Page 101 of Heart of Frost and Scars

None of it matters without Frankie.

“With hard work and compromise, you can have this, too.” Monty looks at Kody, then me. “With freedom like this, you can have anything you want. You’re the only one standing in your way.”

“What are you saying?” My brows pull together. “What compromise?”

“Let me help you. If you want a pilot school, a distillery, whatever your dreams are, work with me. I can guide you through the logistics, be a silent partner, and help you make it successful. It’s what I do.”

“What do you get out of it?”

“A new challenge.” His eyes glimmer. “And a percentage of the profits, of course.”

A businessman, through and through.

I glance around, taking in the extravagance and comfort of it all. He has every material possession a man could want, but part of me remains unimpressed by the trappings of wealth.

The pod of whales stirred something in me that no amount of luxury could replicate. Their wild, unassuming nature calls to a deeper part of me, one that yearns for something more primal and authentic.

This yacht, this life, it’s a world away from everything we’ve known.

But we’re not in the hills anymore. We must adapt, evolve, and transcend from the feral, snarling animals raised in the wild into smarter, more refined, successful men.

Men who can properly care for Frankie in this strange, manufactured world.

A world where we can finally find the freedom and peace we’ve been searching for. A life we never imagined.

Kody sits beside me, silent as usual, but there’s a light in his eyes I haven’t seen before. He’s curious, maybe even a little excited, though likely more by the sheer novelty of it all.

I give him a look, letting him take the lead.

“Put together a plan.” He rolls his lips. “Give us an offer, and we’ll consider it.”

Monty smiles, a genuine, warm smile that transforms his stern features.

“Here’s to freedom.” He raises his glass.

For the second time today, I clink my tumbler with his and finish my whiskey.

He makes a third drink, this one with Kentucky bourbon, a splash of Amarena cherry juice, and two black cherries.

For Frankie.

My stomach hardens.

“Let’s eat lunch then start on those driving lessons.” Monty pushes off the bar, carrying her drink.

Kody and I rise, taking a second to find our footing against the gentle rocking of the yacht.

We follow the distant calls of seabirds through the narrow corridor with Monty in the lead.

“One more thing.” He pauses at the doorway of the largest suite, turning to face us. “This one’s mine.”

I peer inside the main bedroom. It’s bigger, more lavish than all the rest, a reflection of his status as the owner.

He steps closer, his expression stony. “No one fucks her in this bed but me.”

“What the fuck did you just say?” Blood rushes past my ears.

“You heard me.” He leans in, his breath fuming with whiskey. “Going forward, you get two versions of me. That’s the only way this works.”

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