Total pages in book: 217
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
Escape me?
“So are you going to tell me what’s up?” I ask, jerking my head for him to come. I slip my arm around his shoulder as we walk out of the changing rooms.
“Tank and Fury’s mom died.”
I look down at him. “When?”
“We were out for pizza. Tank got a call and we had to go with him and Fury to the nursing home where their mom lives. She has dementia. Or . . . had. She died a minute before we arrived. Just a minute, and now I feel so bad because I hugged Mom by the car and she dropped the pizza box and it took two whole minutes to pick it up. That means they would have been at the nursing home one whole minute before she died. They would have been able to say goodbye.” He throws his arms up and lets them drops heavily. “So it’s all my fault.”
“Ah, kid.” I pull him into my side. “You can’t blame yourself. There are a million things that happened today that steered the course of history, and you hugging your mum is only one of them. Is that why she’s upset?”
“Yeah. Mister had us picked up so Tank and Fury could stay for a while. Grandma and Lawrence are in the café having tea.”
“Bet it’s not as good as your grandma’s.”
He chuckles and stops, forcing me to stop to. “Do you think we’ll ever go back to St. Lucia?”
“Who knows, kid.”
“Do you think I’ll ever be allowed to go to a regular school?”
Fuck. “Maybe.”
“Do you think I’ll be able to go to college?”
That pizza’s gone to the kid’s head. “I’m not Mister, kid. Do you want to ask me a question I can answer?”
He smiles sadly and walks off, kicking the floor as he goes, head down.
“Hey, kid,” I call, and he looks back. “Ask me if you’re loved. If you have a family. A massive one, full of people who’ll do anything for you. A family you can go out on the water with and race.” While they take delivery of their guns.
Daniel’s mouth lifts at the corner, and he nods as I join him, walking him back out. “You any closer to beating Mister yet?”
“Today’s the day,” he assures me, racing off to help Leon get his jet ski on the water as Otto jogs over.
“She turned her phone on briefly.”
What? “And?”
“And she was across the road from the hotel.”
Again, what? “The car?”
“Moved fifty yards and has been stationary since.”
We both look up when the sound of tires crunching across gravel sounds and see my Range Rover pulling into the boatyard. My heart leaps. It fucking leaps. And then she gets out and it’s an effort to stand steady. Relief. It’s making me wobbly. Beau walks over, and the sight of her is like a salve to my cracked soul.
“What the fuck?” Otto grumbles, going back to his phone, obviously to check the tracker.
Beau holds up said tracker, clicks it on, and places it in Otto’s hand. His phone starts beeping immediately. “I’m here,” she says, looking at me, her dark, dark eyes a storybook of hopelessness.
“Where have you been?” I ask.
Her beautiful face is impassive. Emotionless. “I needed space.”
She needed space? From me? It’s a kick in the fucking teeth when all I’ve ever tried to do is protect her from the world. Keep her in the light. I’ve been tortured all night because she needed space? My relief is short-lived. Hello, irritation. “You didn’t think to let me know you were okay? Alive?”
“You didn’t think to tell me Cartwright had showed up dead?”
So it’ll be like this? Tit for tat? “You fucking shot me.”
“I was mad.”
“So you shot me?” I ask, my voice rising in pitch. Otto slowly slinks away, leaving us to it. “You can’t go off around town on your own playing detective, Beau,” I yell.
“Beau!” Daniel cries, coming at us, his face significantly happier than a few moments ago.
“Not now, kid,” I warn, holding up a hand to stop him. She is hearing this. “I’ve told you that repeatedly,” I go on as Daniel joins Otto, moving cautiously away. “I need you to trust me. When the fuck are you going to lis—” I stop talking as Beau picks up her feet and walks past me, heading for the cabin as she shrugs off her trench coat. “Where the fuck are you going now?” My God, can’t she stay still for just a minute?
“I didn’t come back to argue.” She doesn’t look back.
“So I’ve just got accept that you’ll up and leave whenever the fuck you like?” Am I getting this right, because that seems really fucking unreasonable? “Beau!” I’m off across the stones on my bare feet after her, feeling the eyes of many following my fuming form. “I didn’t sleep a wink last night.” I stalk up the steps behind her. “I’ve been calling you repeatedly.” She disappears into the female changing rooms, and I’m right there with her. The three women in there, thankfully, are fully dressed, and all leave hastily, giving my looming frame a wide berth. Beau goes to her locker and pulls out her wetsuit. “I’ve been worried sick, Beau.” She strips down to her underwear, completely ignoring me, and my eyes fall to her arm. Where it all began. My own scars tingle in response. “Running around town looking for you.” Then she starts tying her hair in a high ponytail rather than covering herself, which I’d be really grateful for in this moment. I’ve missed her. Want to hug her, kiss her, spill my love all over her. But I’m mad at her too.