Page 13 of Wicked Waters

Roman.

Dimly, I registered that I wasn’t even surprised that he’d showed up. Something in me had known that he’d be here.

When he caught my eye, he smirked. Why did he have to look so good when he was acting like a dickhead? I shot him a glare that made his smirk melt into a blinding smile that gave me butterflies against my will. For fuck’s sake, not again! Why did he affect me like this?

How had he even become one of the elite? He’d always been the bad boy of Hatherley Hall. Either the elite admired him for his give-no-fucks attitude, or they weren’t immune to his charms. Probably a bit of both, if I had to guess. Well, that and the fact he was super rich, and from the rumours I’d heard, his uncle had apparently used his considerable influence to keep him at Hatherley Hall as a student despite the things he’d done. Money and power were the two biggest draws for the elite, after all.

I turned away from Roman and his friends, stepping out onto the decking and taking a seat on one of the loungers, watching as Freya came to stand next to Penelope, joining a whispered huddle with their friend Harriet. I would bet anything that the new arrivals were the subject of the conversation. Elena had disappeared inside with Knox, and for the moment, I was left alone.

My breath caught in my throat as it all hit me at once. I shouldn’t have come here. Maybe I could avoid Roman tonight, but tomorrow, I doubted I’d be so lucky. In the evening, we were apparently all supposed to be going to a place called Chaceley Rock—a little island farther down the coast with a ruined lighthouse. It was basically an excuse to go out on the boats and get as loud as we wanted without any neighbours to complain. I’d been looking forward to it until now because I’d been avoiding the truth. Now, there was no denying it. If I was lucky, I could escape to my room tonight and stick with the girls tomorrow during the day. But when it came to the evening…I’d be stuck on a tiny island with no escape from the one person I was trying to avoid.

Was it too late to fake a sudden illness that would mean I didn’t have to go?

Blaine directed me to the very end of the pier, to the ladder that led to the water. “Down here.”

I paused. There was still time to turn back.

“Come on. This is the last boat. The others are already there.” I could hear his barely concealed impatience.

The boat in question was bobbing below us, a shadowy figure at the helm and two other figures sitting inside. I shook my head, looking at the dark water swirling below us, and then began to descend the ladder. The metal rungs were cold under my grip, and I was suddenly aware of how cold I was. A shiver racked my body, and goosebumps flared down my arms.

A pair of hands were suddenly gripping my waist, and then I was being lifted into the air and placed down on a bench seat. I shrieked involuntarily.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” the figure spoke. They pulled a phone from their pocket, turning on the torch and shining it in my face. I recoiled at the sudden brightness.

The next minute, Tristan’s low voice sounded close to my ear. “Quinn. Hi. I feel I should probably tell you to watch out for Roman.”

I swallowed hard. I shouldn’t have come.

Before I could think of a reply, the boat engine started up, and Tristan was moving away.

Then, it was too late to turn back. We were cutting through the dark ocean waves, heading for Chaceley Rock and Roman Cavendish.

The closer we drew to the tiny island with the ruined lighthouse, the more apprehensive I grew. I had to remind myself that I could hold my own. Roman needed to get the message that we had to stay away from each other, if he hadn’t already, and if I had to hurt both him and me to get the message across, it was a price I was willing to pay. He wasn’t going to be expelled because of anything I did. I’d make sure of it.

The smell of salt filled the air, and the boat kicked up sprays of seawater that misted on my hands and face. I huddled into my thin hoodie, wishing that I’d thought to bring something warmer.

Finally, the boat slowed, and then the engine cut out. Blaine jumped out onto a small dock, the wood creaking beneath his trainers. Once the boat was safely tied up, we climbed out of the boat. I stood, blinking, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. Huge, jagged rocks towered ominously to my left. To my right was the jetty, and up ahead, I saw the tall, looming structure of the old lighthouse. So, this was Chaceley Rock.

My feet slipped on the wet, stubby grass as I followed the light of Tristan’s torch towards the lighthouse, and I slowed down, not wanting to risk falling on my face in the dark. As we reached the lighthouse, I looked around me. I could just about make out a tiny path leading to a small, pebbly beach and more jagged rocks, with waves crashing against them.

Yet again, I stumbled a little, and I reached out, touching the crumbling stone wall of the lighthouse in an attempt to support myself. Pushing the door open, Blaine gripped my arm to hold me steady. Dim light spilled from the opening, and he tugged me forwards before dropping my arm and stepping inside. “Come on.”

The crowded, circular interior was full of people, talking, drinking, laughing, kissing, but I didn’t see Roman.

As I stood, paused in the doorway, taking everything in, an arm snaked around my waist and yanked me back outside. I gasped as a hard body pressed me up against the side of the lighthouse, a hand coming over my mouth and nose so I could barely breathe, let alone scream.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

At the sound of Roman’s voice, I kicked out, but he was too strong. He gave a dark chuckle, adjusting his grip on my face so I could at least breathe through my nose. “So angry, but you still want me.”

He was right, but I couldn’t and wouldn’t admit it to him.

His lips skimmed over my ear. “We need to have a conversation about the way you say one thing and do another. How you think I’m not good enough, but you still want me to fuck you.” At my attempt at a violent shake of my head, he laughed, tightening his grip on my face. “Don’t even deny it. I’m not fucking stupid, baby. I see the way you look at me.”

“Roman?”

Shit. That was Freya’s voice. Roman growled under his breath, then released me, muttering a string of swear words, too low for anyone to discern.

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