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My body stiffened, and my nerves wound tight. I waited for my world to fall apart.
Liam had concerned himself with the other guys and how they would handle things. He hadn’t considered that I might not be able to take hearing a rejection from any of them.
Memories flooded through me in those few seconds. I pictured Brandon with me in the trunk of a car, hearing his desperate voice. How could I put him through this, after what we’d been through together? I was suddenly sure I’d done something horribly wrong sending Liam and Axel to tell them everything.
He looked right at me, then at Blake, then back to me before he straightened and looked away. It was a simple glance, dismissing me without any interest at all as he passed me and headed toward Fancy’s door.
I nearly fell to pieces at the rejection, at how easily he had dismissed me. But then I realized he must not have recognized me.
At least the outfit worked. “Brandon,” I whispered, afraid to talk too loudly.
I didn’t want him to get his head blown off by waking Fancy up.
Brandon stopped just short of her door and then slowly pivoted on his heels, staring down the hallway at me. He had dark circles under his eyes, like everyone else I’d seen so far.
I gestured for him to come closer.
“I guess he’s here for you,” Blake whispered in my ear. “Best if I scoot along.” He started down the hallway, away from Brandon, before I could answer him. He walked tall, looking back at me and silently telling me to call him back if I needed him.
I didn’t blame him for leaving. Brandon had a knack for lashing out at Blake. If Brandon had talked with Axel, he knew everything and had agreed to not make trouble; I didn’t think it was wise to agitate his feelings.
I turned toward him.
He slowly approached me with a questioning tilt of his head. His eyes weren’t angry at the moment, but sad, confused. “Uh…”
“It’s me,” I said, looking at him full-on as he got closer. My heart pounded and I hid my shaking hands behind my back. I should trust him, no matter how he felt about me.
Seeing him up close, he was still Brandon, the guy who had saved me so many times. The guy I had saved from dying. I wanted to be calm and readied myself to hear him say what I thought would be the worst: that he was not interested.
His eyes scanned me, and slowly his lips parted, until his mouth was hanging open. “My God, it is you…” He breathed heavily and lifted his arms, reaching for me. His eyes were wide, and a concerned expression crossed his face. He paused just short of touching my shoulder, rubbing his thumb against two fingers. “I can’t believe…I mean, I knew you were back, and I was coming down to see you, but…you don’t look like you.”
I didn’t move, not daring to. I wanted to hug him, to hold him, but I kept my distance. I needed to let him come to me, and not push for attention or answers, even though waiting was almost unbearable.
I thought lightening the mood would make it easier to talk. “Better, right?” I grinned, trying to make it obvious I was joking.
“No,” he said, still serious. “It’s not you. I mean…” He withdrew his arm and reached up to his hair, running his fingers through it, then pressing a palm to his forehead. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do right now.” His eyes fell to the floor.
My heart dropped when he pulled away. “What’s wrong?” I asked, suddenly worried something else had happened. Had he actually talked to Axel and Liam?
He pressed his lips together and then frowned at me before darting his eyes around the hallway. “Please don’t take this wrong. I don’t think we can talk about it here.”
He looked so serious; I dreaded finding a spot to talk privately. I didn’t want to hear his rejection. As much as I was dying on the inside, hearing the words would be too much.
But we couldn’t stand there in the hallway any longer, so I motioned for him to follow. I’d planned to go to the sundeck anyway. I wasn’t sure how I’d focus if he was nearby.
There were no questions as to where we were going. No redirecting me. I took the lead, and he followed.
I hadn’t expected that. I had expected Brandon to bark orders, to tell me I was taking too many risks. I’d expected a fight.
Without passing anyone else in the deserted hallway, we stepped into the elevator, and I pushed the button that would take us to the right deck.
The elevator stopped before we got to the right level, and the doors opened. I held my breath, edging closer to Brandon.
He turned completely, looking right at my face.
He was hiding. Did he need to get some makeup and another outfit? What had happened while I was gone?
I didn’t recognize anyone coming onto the elevator but couldn’t tell if Brandon knew them. They talked about the shopping level and the comedy show later that afternoon. They offered us a “good morning” and quickly dismissed us after I smiled politely and then shyly looked at my feet. I tried to look pleased to be there, but just not talkative.
They didn’t show any interest in us beyond the greeting, but Brandon still didn’t face them.
A few minutes later, we reached our deck. Brandon and I quietly exited through the crowd of people waiting to get on after we got out.
The sudden bustle of being on a populated floor shook up my senses. It had been so quiet for so long, and I was suddenly hypersensitive to noise: loud talking and laughing, music playing from overhead speakers. Ice clinking in glasses as people carried beverages. People walking around shuffling their shoes along the blue carpet.
Everyone here was either on vacation or part of the crew. I felt like I was traveling in my own universe, and no one could see the shadowy underworld I could see. I scanned faces for someone I recognized, but they blurred by, and no one seemed familiar.
All of the guests were part of Murdock’s empire. Not all were innocent. We’d only scratched the surface.
I focused on what I was there to do. It took me a few wrong turns to find the area where I’d been thrown over. Luckily, it was a small sunning deck a good way away from the popular pools. It was empty when we arrived.
The sun was out, and the day was warming, but there was still a November breeze blowing over us as the ship cruised on. I couldn’t see any land, so either we were way far out, or it was on the other side of the ship. Were we moving? I couldn’t feel it, and there was no reference landmark to tell me if we were.
The rail attracted my attention, and as I looked at it, panic threaded through me. Maybe Blake was right about not coming back here. If Brandon wanted to talk, maybe this wasn’t the right spot for it.
“Why are we here?” Brandon asked. He stayed by the door, his eyes looking over the deck and then at me. “Is something wrong?”
I was going to answer him, but then became distracted when I heard voices in the hallway. I stared at the door until the voices moved on. “Just give me a couple minutes,” I said.
There was rust along part of the door, and there were spots where paint had been reapplied, but mismatched the older paint of the ship. Nothing of interest stood out to me. I looked at the small grooves where the wall met the decking and got on my knees, checking the corners, the flooring.
Minutes passed as I looked around, and every little second seemed like eons while I waited for him to say something.
Yell at me. Tell me you know and you don’t like what’s going on. Break things off cleanly. Don’t just stand there and look at me!
I couldn’t stand it. I ground my teeth and focused on looking around, too wound up to talk. I got to work checking the blue outdoor lounge chairs that had been stacked and pushed to the far side of the deck.
When I was on my knees checking underneath the deck chairs, he came up behind me, watching. “What are you looking for?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
He folded his sleeves up past his wrists. The lightweight sweater was very loose, and the fol
ds eventually kept falling until finally he gave up.
“Clues?” he asked. “Are you playing spy and looking for clues?”
I gave him the side-eye. “You’re not supposed to use the spy word.”
A small smirk. He hadn’t totally lost his sense of humor. “I don’t understand you. We’ve been all over this place.”
“Have you?” I asked. “This morning, since the sun’s been up? Or just last night?”
He furrowed his eyebrows. “We checked with flashlights last night, right after it happened.”
I pointed to the floorboards. “There’s smudges from different shoes along this balcony.” I stepped toward him, pointing again to another part of the floor. “There’s a scuff mark over there, closer to the rail.”
I went to the rail, examining the space. I leaned toward it and then reached out, dusting the rail with my fingertips. A hair drew my notice and I lifted it gingerly. It looked like mine, but could I be sure? The wind blew stronger here. It was a miracle at all that it had caught on a small bump in the rail and hadn’t blown away.
“You’re not going to find some magical shoe print,” he said, raising his hands, palms facing me, as he approached and inched closer to me. “This isn’t like the crime shows.”
I spun and held the single hair out to him. “What if this is from whoever threw me over?”
