Page 56 of Mr. Risky

“I don’t want to see you again,” Chamberlain snapped. “Let this be the end of the matter.”

“Fine by me. The cooking sucked here anyways.”

But as he left, he had one more parting shot.

“This fucking pervert has been hiding in the other room and watching women changing into Siren costumes,” Granger said, gesturing back at Hayden. “And his sister knew about it. Maybe someone should investigate that.”

He pulled us out of the pool house just as the back wall collapsed, then slapped my ass and pointed me toward the beach path.

The wind was howling as pieces began to tear off Hollingsworth House, and at last the guests became aware of the danger, and they began to stream away from their little beach tables.

At least I didn’t see any Sirens around. Thank god they’d all left earlier.

The waves were whipping into a foam, and I couldn’t see more than a few hundred yards out to the ocean.

My fingers felt frozen with the cold spray, my dress sopping wet and heavy against my ankles.

Tiles began to shear off the buildings, and I ran, the flute clutched in my frozen hands.

Getting closer! But what would I find when I arrived?

As my feet dug into the cold sand, I heard a terrifying crunching sound, and I saw the left side of Hollingsworth House begin to crumble.

I tried to go fast as I could to the guesthouse to wait for Granger, but my skirt was weighing me down so much that I could barely move.

At last I tore at it with trembling, angry hands, ripping it at the waist and leaving it on the ground, stepping out like a chrysalis.

Had that ever been a genuine opportunity?

When I got to the guesthouse, it took an effort to open the door, but all my packed bags were gone.

Had Granger taken them?

I went back outside to the howling of the storm, and I saw waves were rushing in faster and faster now.

What was going to happen?

The waves were washing over the roadway that led to Hollingsworth House now.

Oh my god, where was Granger?

I didn’t know which way to go. To the left the big house was splintering apart, and to the right the spray and surf was so high that I couldn’t even see a path out. And even if I could, the rocks were too slippery and dangerous.

Shit shit shit.

“Granger?” I screamed out into the wind.

The rain was lashing my face like crazy, making me so disoriented that I wanted to puke. I was no match for this storm.

My baby and I were going to die out here, and I wanted more than anything to live, to see if the baby looked like me or like Granger.

To give our baby the kind of happy childhood I’d never gotten.

But why had I trusted Granger?

A man who I knew damn well was a manipulative liar and a cheater.

He had probably gone to save Pippa and take her to some luxury hotel, while I was going to die here.