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Is this his punishment for dodging his question? A reward? A taste of the inferno?

“I’ve wanted to do this,” he murmurs. Another kiss. Another suction.

“What?”

“Your pretty pale skin. I want to mark it up.” His voice takes on a dangerous, dark edge.

“You know we shouldn’t do this.” Using the last of my willpower, I pull away from him.

This time he lets me, and I swim toward the shore.

“Your secret, Olivia. A truth for a truth. You owe me one and I want to collect.”

I stop at his words and moisture suddenly pools in my eyes. Keeping my back toward him, my gaze pinned on the shoreline, I reply with one truth.

“I’m a prisoner of grief and guilt. And that’s why I’m your doctor today. Because I think, I sense…you’re just like me.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

It’s the same smellagain. Death.

Dewy and thick, the acrid saltiness mixing with damp earth. The stench burned into my nostrils when I found Mom’s body all those years ago.

My head throbs, courtesy of the nightmare, this time of Raya with the bullet wound in her chest, asking me to take her daughters to safety. It woke me up two and a half hours into my sleep. I tossed and turned for a long time before finally giving up and reaching for my trusty Velowake.

Four pills this time.

I wonder if I can overdose on caffeine pills.

Then, as my pulse rioted from the side effects, I pulled out my phone and looked at photos of her. Olivia’s soft smile. Her kind eyes. The newest one I stole of her when she padded back to the cruise, clothes sticking to her damp skin after the cliff dive two days ago. Those minutes with her felt more real than most of my life. No fake smiles. No jokes. No pretending. No judgment.

She made me forget—about Mom and Raya’s deaths, about how screwed up I am with my blackouts, about being lost and half alive. One moment I was staring into the Adriatic, wondering how deep those waters were, and the next moment I was laughing, teasing her, tempting her, making her smile.

I was normal. I was trulyalive.

I wanted to take a picture of the teeth marks on her shoulder. My mark.

Mine.

No. Not yours. Never yours.

I have to protect her reputation, her career, her heart.

The words aren’t sticking. After all, how can they, when in her presence, I can finally breathe?

The chilly wind bites into my skin as I stand on the balcony of my stateroom, waiting for Elias to show up with updates about his investigation into the kidnapping attempt. The man didn’t tell me anything when he first boarded the ship. He said I looked like shit and he was close to answers before disappearing like the phantom he was.

The endless ocean stretches in front of me, the rippling waters and muted skies warning me it won’t be smooth sailing in the future. I take another whiff, my lungs drawing in the same scent notes from my memories.

There was life before Mom’s death and life after. This smell was the demarcation line.

I once read that smell was the strongest sense tied to memories. It was strange how it wasn’t the sight or hearing.

What would Olivia say if I asked her in my session later today? Would she give me some biology textbook response or would she prod into my fascination with memories?

Knowing her,I smile,probably both.

But then her parting words in Dubrovnik echo in my mind.