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Just as well. Nemo needs to get laid, and Lauren’s a sure thing.
I, on the other hand?
I don’t need to get laid. However, I desperately want to get laid. By Emily Moreno.
I get out of the water and grab a towel from the stack Siri and Angel provided. I dry off my hair, wrap the towel around my waist, and go in search of my clothes.
Siri grabs one of my butt cheeks. “Best ass on the beach, Scotty.”
“Yours is better.”
She laughs. “Lyle took an informal poll at the bar tonight. You won best guy ass and I won best girl ass.”
“I can’t find any fault with those results.”
“You want to roast marshmallows?” Siri asks. “We started a small bonfire. Got everything for s’mores.”
“Sure. What the hell?” I hastily get back into my shorts and island shirt and follow Siri to the small fire.
We’re allowed to have a bonfire, but only in this one location on the staffers’ beach. The Wolfes are great to all of us. Our own private beach, great living quarters, all food and drink included. I guess that makes up for the meager pay. No tips, either. It’s forbidden. The artists are here to create, not go broke. Roy Wolfe’s words. Of course, a few of them still tip. Lyle and I learned quickly who they were and we give them extra special service.
Still we make enough to get by and put a few bucks each check into savings. With shelter, food, and drink included here, it’s an amazing deal. I was lucky I got hired on Billionaire Island. I take a roasting fork and load it with two marshmallows. Angel and Lyle are among the others around the small fire. Siri and I join them.
“You got any dark chocolate?” I ask Siri.
“Sure thing. I remember you don’t eat Hershey’s.”
“Tastes like sour milk to me,” I say.
“I got you some Special Dark.”
“You’re awesome!” I give Siri a kiss on her smooth cheek.
Funny. I’ve kissed two women’s cheeks tonight. Lauren and Siri. And I felt nothing. Not even a slight stir downstairs.
I’m off my game.
Except I know I’m not.
I’m on my game. Totally on it.
I just have my sights set on another woman.
Once my marshmallows are brown but not burnt, I move them from the fire and slide them onto a graham cracker along with a square of dark chocolate. I top it with another graham cracker, and just as I’m about to shove it into my mouth—
I shift my gaze toward the other side of the beach.
Darkness has fallen, and a lone woman wanders barefoot, right at the shoreline. She’s dressed all in white—a sundress—dark hair falling down her back.
An angel.
A fucking angel on the beach.
I absently drop my s’more in the sand and begin walking.
11
Emily
I feel safer in the dark.
Silly, I know.
If Lucifer wants to find me—and he does—he will. Eventually. Buck will do what he can to throw him off my trail, but in the end…
He’ll find me.
You’re mine, Emily. You’ll never escape me.
This is the edge of the colonists’ beach. A fire burns in the distance. I inhale. Mmm. Smells like campfire and roasted marshmallows. S’mores.
I haven’t had a s’more since I was a little girl. I used to be a Girl Scout. Emily Moreno was a good girl. She was always prepared—the Girl Scout motto. She earned good grades and never got into trouble.
Never.
Until she met Lucifer Black.
I’m an accessory to myriad crimes, now. Not by my choice, but that won’t matter to the people who want to bring down Lucifer and his underground syndicate.
I know too much, as well.
Which is why Lucifer can’t let me go.
Security here on the island is top notch, according to Buck. He should know. He’s been in the Wolfes’ employ since he left the Navy. He and his friend Leif are two of the Wolfes’ hired guns, so to speak. They’re jacks of all trades with a SEAL background. I don’t even want to think about some of the stuff my brother most likely did when the Wolfes were all suspects in their father’s murder.
Thankfully, that’s all over now. Turned out Derek Wolfe had led a double life. He was a bigamist, a kidnapper, a rapist, and a psychopath.
Nice guy.
The ocean pushes toward me, tickling my bare toes.
I let out a sigh.
I’m in paradise.
Paradise.
And earlier today, I met a man. A nice man who seemed interested in me. Wanted to know why I’m running. Why I’m hiding. Sure, he’s a bartending beach bum, but I liked him. I wanted to get to know him.
Wanted…
Wanted to feel his strong arms around me.
But I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to him, when I belong to someone else.
Except I don’t belong to someone else. Damn. Lucifer’s words haunt me to the point where I actually believe them sometimes.
No. I do not belong to Lucifer Black.
