Page 74 of Sinners Retreat

“That’s part of the hunting grounds.”

“What’s the hunt? I’ve heard it mentioned a few times now.”

“The highlight of the resort stay. Jim takes all the remaining Cattle to this isolated part of the island and sets them loose. They disperse here and across the bridge.”

“So if I sleep in tomorrow, the only thing between me and a rapist is a little bit of jungle and this poor excuse for a bridge?”

“It’s nothing to worry about, pet. Jim has a few goons who like to lurk the perimeter. They take out anyone who tries to slip by.”

“Point taken. But what happens if they stay out in the jungle? Like, can they survive out there?”

“If anyone survives—and that doesn’t happen often—they get an opportunity to work on the island. They’re fitted with trackers so that Jim knows where everyone is at all times. The cannibal chef? He’s the rare survivor.”

“What if your friend survives?”

“Gary? No, Gary won’t survive. Bennett won’t let him after what he’s done.”

“How are you even so sure of what he’s done?”

“I have more than enough proof for his death warrant. I’m a PI, remember?” Ezra grips a branch, holding it out of the way as I duck under it and step closer to the bridge.

“Oh, right. That’s how you found your brother.”

I have plenty of time to get to know the skeletons in Ezra’s closet, so I stop with the personal questions. Right now, I’m more interested in seeing what waits on the other side of that bridge.

“Can we go over there? To the hunting ground?” I ask.

Ezra clams up, though it takes everything in him to play it cool. He stuffs a shaking hand into his pocket, but not before I witness his rare weakness.

“There’s only one way over to that section of the island,” he says, “and it involves taking the bridge.”

“Is the big bad Crumpet Killer afraid?” I walk my fingers up his chest and touch his chin.

He smirks and pulls off his glasses so he can clean them on his shirt. “I don’t want it to be the Ezra Carter bridge next year, so why don’t I show you another of the island’s hidden gems?” He holds the branch out of my way again, and we return to the jungle.

We follow the same non-existent path back the way we came, but then Ezra takes a right at a tree. I’m not sure how he knows where to turn, as all the trees look identical to me. I’m about to ask if he’s sure he knows where he’s going when the sound of rushing water reaches my ears again. Then we step into a clearing, and I can hardly breathe.

I never should have doubted him.

Stunned into silence, I stand in awe of the island’s hidden beauty. Massive hibiscus plants have been left to grow wild near the water, dotting the greenery with bright splashes of red, orange, and pink. Moss grows on the rocks jutting from thewater, which is a blue so dark and deep I can’t see below its rippling surface.

A waterfall rushes down the side of a tall cliff and lands in a large basin below. It’s not Niagara Falls, but it doesn’t have to be. It’s a tropical oasis for Ezra and me.

Ezra begins stripping off his shirt, and now I’m stunned into silence for another reason. Does he plan to go for a swim?

“I didn’t wear a swimsuit,” I say.

“Neither did I.” He pulls off his shorts.

No. He certainly did not.

He slips his fingertips beneath the hem of my shirt, and, with a featherlight touch, he begins to lift. I slam my hands over his to stop him as my eyes scan for the people who could be hiding behind all these rocks and trees. He’s gotten me to loosen up quite a bit, but I’m not sure I’m ready to go skinny dipping.

“I can’t strip here,” I whisper. “Someone could see me.”

Ezra looks around, turning a full circle and giving me a glimpse of his perfect backside and that horrible tattoo. He even has those sexy dimples above his ass cheeks. I still can’t believe this British choirboy has such a devilish streak to him.

When he faces me again, he shrugs his shoulders. “I can scare the birds off if you’re that shy, but I’m not sure what I’m expected to do about the fish.”

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