Page 50 of Nemesis

“You promised me food.”

He inclines his chin.

There’s a path to the right, and he steers us in that direction. It’s so dark, I’m suddenly glad he’s holding my hand. I can barely make out the hulking shadow of him, let alone any features. The sound of water lapping is the only noise around us.

He could do anything to me in this moment. He could force me on a boat and take me far, far away from here. Kidnap me, torture me. Rape me.

Sell me.

A shiver coasts down my spine.

Why do I put myself in these situations?

I tug on my hand, but he holds fast. My dread is cold and sluggish, but the panic that begins to flare to life is white-hot.

“Just trust me,” he murmurs, like he can sense it.

It doesn’t help.

What sort of trustworthy guy says that?

And then we round a corner, and there’s a boat all lit up. It’s a flat houseboat decorated in string lights, torches lit around the perimeter with real fire—a true sailor’s worst nightmare—and, inexplicably, the smell of cooked meat.

My mouth waters before the rest of me catches up.

“Bobby!” Kade calls. “You still open?”

A sandy-blond head pokes out of the open doorway of the houseboat, and my confusion grows.

It’s not like I know everyone in Sterling Falls. That would be ridiculous. But?—

“For you?” the guy answers. “Of course.”

He disappears back inside.

“What is happening?”

Kade laughs under his breath. “Bobby runs a food truck of sorts.”

“A food boat…?”

“Yeah.” He snaps his fingers. “I took a boat out to Isle of Paradise, and he was docked over there catering to some of the workers coming off the ferry.”

“You went to Isle of Paradise?” My tone is wary. There’s an organization there that claims to be a trauma rehabilitation center, but they really just keep people for as long as possible. Forever, if the money doesn’t dry up.

He shrugs. “Covering my bases when it comes to Reese. But Bobby and I got talking, and he said he’s open late. Sometimes he’s over in North Falls to catch the late-night drunks leaving your club.”

I turn another, speculative eye toward the lit-up boat. From this angle, I can barely make out a sign that proclaimsBobby’s Eats. But it solidifies what he’s saying.

And come to think of it, I have seen a crazily illuminated boat around Bow & Arrow’s closing time.

“Come on,” Kade murmurs. “He doesn’t bite.”

Sure.

He easily steps up onto the boat, swinging his other leg over the railing. Straddling it like that, he extends his hand to me.

Not a chance.

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