Page 39 of Lord of Debauchery

Since then, I could hear comings and goings, the booming voices of several men, some of them quite animated. Beckham had been a consummate host, ensuring I had whatever I’d wanted to drink, telling me I could help myself to anything in the refrigerator or cabinets. I had found a bottle of whiskey, which wasn’t my normal drink but, on this day, and after everything that had occurred in less than twenty-four hours, only something hard would satisfy.

Only it hadn’t.

All the liquor had done was left a bad taste in my mouth.

Still, I turned away, staring at the glass in hopes it would give me answers.

Or maybe salvation.

I was slowly spiraling into a dark place, something I’d promised myself wouldn’t happen again. There’d been no need. Then the monsters had appeared, the ones that I knew existed for real, not those hiding in the shadows of our mind.

I recognized the brand, although I was trying to remember if it had been while serving overseas. Most of our missions had been in the dark and we hadn’t taken the time to learn anything from their dead bodies. There’d been no need. Then why was I certain the situations were similar?

I pulled the glass to my lips once again, needing fresh air or I might pass out. Maybe he had rules for me to follow, but I didn’t know and didn’t care. We were surrounded by an army so I doubted that anyone could get near the place.

I’d underestimated the man’s power, not because he hadn’t appeared ruthless enough but because he also had a boyish charm that seemed out of place. His grin was adorable, the way the light refracted off his hair highlighting the gold streaks, and the dimples were pinchable.

Only his eyes reflected the brutal man he’d been turned into.

I’d also seen tremendous concern in them as well almost every time he’d gazed at me. I refreshed my drink, hoping it would finally calm my nerves. At this point, I wasn’t certain anything could.

He was lucky he was alive, the wound deep but certainly not life threatening. It had felt natural playing his nurse, the closeness we’d both felt on the short plane ride not easy to explain.

Including to myself.

I had no idea why I wasn’t doing everything I could to escape. Granted, my senses were dulled, my mind one big blurry haze. Maybe I’d be a screaming lunatic after being attacked twice in two hours. I should call and warn Janie. Whoops. I didn’t have my phone.

Plus, I doubted a single one of the assassins remained in Maine. They’d all followed us here. Of course they knew where everyone in the family lived. They had to. Maybe not. Oh, I hated being so far out of sorts.

As I opened the door, I wasn’t certain how to process the events. It was more like an action movie than dealing with real life.

And I suspected Beckham wasn’t used to experiencing anything like what he was going through. The air was cool, but the sun was warm enough to keep another chill from adding a layer to the first. I moved through the beautiful sets of furniture, still marveling people actually lived like this.

While I’d told Beckham that he was an arrogant ass, he wasn’t stuck up as if he thought everyone else was beneath him. Although I wasn’t going to entertain the thought that I knew him at all. He could be hiding behind whatever mask he wanted to.

I noticed a group of shadows, a room full of soldiers. Even though the sun was still high enough in the sky to cause a glare on the various windowpanes, I felt he was watching me, every step I took and every sip of my drink.

I wasn’t good at flirting, but I had to admit, teasing him my way was a foil to the horrors we’d been through. It gave me some sense of normalcy, including dipping my finger into the whiskey and sliding the long digit into my mouth. As I sucked, I closed my eyes on purpose. It was ridiculous, the behavior akin to some high school kid but the few moments allowed a sense of calm.

A few minutes later, I headed to the railing, the call of the ocean much more important. It also represented everything I might lose. The breeze was light, the view incredible, and as I pushed loose strands of hair behind my ear, there was nothing I wanted more than to sit in the sand thinking about nothing. The one thing I enjoyed about this view as opposed to the one I had in Camden was the easy access to the beach.

I pulled off my shoes, laughing at my surprise at being able to balance with a drink in my hand. I guess it was good to see I could still amuse myself since I was normally clumsy when on one foot.

Unable to help myself, I headed to the stairs, walking down until I was able to soak my feet into the cool sand. The ocean had always been my respite, my happy place and while I couldn’t say I was joyful right now, I was okay with being safe.

Were we safe?

I walked toward the water, half expecting a soldier would fly in my direction. That didn’t happen, although two of them did flank me on opposite sides of the beach, acting as if they were statues. No, they reminded me of the Buckingham Palace guards who never blinked, never moved. I had a sudden urge to run toward them, fanning my hand in front of them.

But I refrained, wondering if they’d pull out a gun instead. I was obviously in need of rest and maybe some food. As the froth of the water washed up to my toes, I felt a couple of tears falling. My strained emotional level had to be from exhaustion.

After a few seconds, I moved back to a nice soft spot on the sand and sat down, bending and crossing my legs. And for the second time since I’d met the man, I allowed the tears to fall.

Beckham

Fucking hours had passed since we’d returned to New Hampshire, enough that I was antsy especially given the sun was slowly fading, twilight soon to fall.

I was even more pissed off than before, likely because no answers had been found even though James and another one of my computer experts had been working nonstop since returning to try to find anything on the brand.

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