Page 10 of Joel
“I didn’t tell the Coast Guard anything,” I remind him.
“You better fucking not,” he growls.
“I’m good at playing tourist, just like you taught me.” Is there a heavy dose of malice in my tone? I sure as hell hope so.
“You’ll go back out, Kylie.”
I hear what he doesn’t say. I hearYou’ll go back out there if you want to pay off your debt to me.
“I’ll need another boat. The first one sank,” I say, hoping that detail will keep Todd in check. Maybe make him a little more human again. I could have died had I not resurfaced in time.
“What?”
“The boat you rented for me. It was a piece of shit. It sank when I came back up from my dive. I barely got the life raft?—”
“You sank the fucking skiff?”
“No, Todd.Ididn’t sink it. It sank itself.That’swhy the Coast Guard ended up rescuing me. I’m okay, in case you were wondering. But I’m going to need another boat if you want me to go back out there.”
“Christ, do I have to handle everything?” he grumbles. “You’re worthless, Kylie. Just like your fucking mother?—”
With shaking hands, I end the call. A tear threatens to fall, but I refuse to let it as I power down my phone.
They’re just words.
Words he uses as daggers to control me, I remind myself.
Todd can go straight to hell.
A knock at my door pulls me from my trance, and I answer it without checking the peep hole.
Joel Pierson stands on the other side, wearing a black J-Squad T-shirt, a damp pair of neon orange swim trunks, and devilish grin.
I’m reminded, by the wetness pooling between my legs, that I’m not wearing anything underneath my oversized T-shirt. Fuck me, I want to pounce on him right here in the hallway. I want him to push me up against the wall and take me nice and rough. I bet he could erase the last several minutes with primal ease.
“Your ride is here,” he says, a gleam in those ocean blue eyes. Then he does a double take, seeming to really see me, and the gleam disappears. “Kylie, what’s wrong?” His gaze lifts above my head, to the bed covered in damning evidence. “And what’s all that?”
For a moment, I consider throwing him off course. I could shut the door behind me, and insist he take me back to his place so we can pick up right where we left off. I don’t actually need a bikini. It was never meant to stay on all that long anyway.
But lying to Joel just feels…wrong. And I can’t shake the feeling.
Iwantto tell him the truth.
I squeeze the gold coin in my palm, hoping it’ll bring me good luck and not some curse. I really don’t needthatright now. I take a deep, steadying breath. “I need to tell you something, and I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
6
JOEL
“You’re looking for The Esmerelda?”I ask, scanning the charts, pictures, and articles spread out across her bed. My gaze snags on a neon orange bikini tossed on her pillow and it almost distracts me from my initial question. Almost.
I’ve heard about the legendary pirate ship that may or may not have sunk off the coast of North Haven over a century ago. Everyone around here has.
It’s alegend.
A tragically romantic story that the locals love telling tourists. A pirate who’d spent too much time on the sea in search of his big score finally on the way home to his true love in North Haven. Except he hit an iceberg and sank with the treasure before he could reach her. Or so the story goes.
No one has ever found the wreckage.
