The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea
Page 6
Maybe I should have insisted on doing things my way, but I was twenty and broke and scared if I kept holding out for more, I’d wind up empty-handed. I doubt many people would say it was a mistake, given where I am now.
The shops come to an abrupt end, replaced by a little beachfront park where a massive, twisty tree looms just off the sidewalk. I jerk to a stop and stare at it. Under the glow of the full moon, it looks magical, like something created by Disney.
“It’s a banyan,” says a voice behind me. I gasp in surprise and round on Joshua.
“Did you follow me?”
His tongue prods his cheek. “I certainly wouldn’t run this slowly by choice.”
“Why?” I bark. My foot begins to tap. This was supposed to be my time to myself. Or at least my time away from people who accuse me of class A misdemeanors. “There’s no one even out here.”
“Right. I forgot how much safer it is outside when it’s dark and there are no witnesses.” He sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You do realize that most attacks on female joggers occur in the morning?”
I lean against a lamppost and start to stretch. I’m already getting stiff. “Sounds like someone’s been researching the best way to attack female joggers. And we just passed Tiffany and Jimmy Choo. The brokest, most dangerous guy out here right now is probably you.”
“Uh-huh,” he says. “And on the off chance you’re wrong, Drew, how exactly would you defend yourself? You’re about three feet tall.”
“I’m five-six,” I growl. “And I’m in amazing shape. I could fight off ten guys your size.”
This is perhaps a slight exaggeration. But I definitely kicked Max Greenbaum’s ass, mano-a-mano. Possibly less impressive if we weren’t nine when it happened, and if he hadn’t been really small for his age.
His brow lifts. “Ten guys?”
“At least ten. All at the same time. Tarantino movies are a pale imitation of my fighting skills.”
He steps into the sand. “Then show me,” he says. His shoulders are relaxed. “Let me see you defend yourself.”
The crickets chirp, the breeze blows, and moonlight glances over his smugly perfect face.
“My hands are registered lethal weapons. And you’re underestimating how bad I want to kick you in the balls,” I reply. “I wouldn’t push this.”
He tips his chin and his mouth almost curves into something less severe. “Yeah? Because you’re acting like someone who isn’t sure.”
Now that he’s called my bluff, I have to go through with it, though to my surprise I don’t actually want to hurt him quite as much as I thought. I mean, yeah, I still want to hurt him. Just…less. Also, he’s a foot taller than me. It will be a lot like trying to beat up a redwood.
“The last guy I fought wet his pants. Is that really something you want to risk?”
“Feel free to just admit you’re far weaker,” he says, folding his arms across his broad chest, “and we can proceed with the run.”
Okay, I rescind my previous statement. I totally want to hurt this guy.
Fast as a flash, my leg swings out. It’s been a while, but I can still do a decent roundhouse kick, if nothing else. But just as I’m about to make contact, he grabs my leg. Two seconds later, I’m on the ground and he’s kneeling above me.
I don’t even know how he did it, but I do know my whole Max Greenbaum victory feels a little tarnished now.
He pulls me up by the forearm. “So, is there anything you’d like to say?”
“Yeah,” I reply, brushing myself off. “You seem to enjoy throwing a female on the ground a little too much. No wonder Sloane looks so unhappy all the time.”
His face reverts to its previous severity. Maybe I aimed a little low, but I’m not the one who invited her.
“I’ll take that as your concession speech,” he says. “And you might want to take it easy today, by the way. Lounging isn’t really on the Bailey vacation itinerary, ever.”
“I’ll be fine,” I reply. “Worry about yourself.”
I pat my pocket for my inhaler though I have no intention of using it in front of him, lest he add asthmatic to his ever-growing list of my flaws. And then I turn toward Diamond Head and start running, knowing I’ll have to go longer and harder than I ever planned, just to prove to Joshua Bailey I don’t need his advice.
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