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“So he’s a prick.”
“Yes.”
“Won’t this prick collect a big fat insurance check if we destroy his beautiful resort?” Seemed like kind of a moot point to punish the guy if it was only going to line his pockets.
“Clever girl. But, no. The resort belongs to his wife, passed down through her family. All the money will go to her.”
I took another look at the resort. The main building was a beautiful, multistory, chalet-style marvel. It stretched out several hundred feet in each direction, and the lights within gave it an intentionally warm glow. I bet the place was full of exposed wooden beams and furniture made from deer antlers.
The upper decks were built of intricately laced wood designs, and the planters out front held meticulously trimmed globe cedars. The place was pristine and painfully lovely, far removed from any part of my reality.
I’d never get to stay in a place like that. Never have a family to take on vacations or have a wine-infused girls’ weekend at the spa. Dreams like that had long since passed for me, so much so I only felt the slightest pang of regret looking at the place.
Yet I didn’t want to destroy it for being unachievable.
I found I didn’t want to destroy it at all.
“If the hotel belongs to the wife, aren’t we punishing her more than him?” I drummed my nails against my jean-clad thigh, searching for any reason to avoid unleashing an act of the gods on this place.
Couldn’t I just blow up his car instead? I loved smashing luxury sedans, as my evening’s earlier adventures indicated.
“She’s the one who asked. Several dozen times. And the offerings she’s making don’t come cheap.”
I let out a little grunt. The clouds overhead were getting fatter and darker by the second. “We’re going to need to make this fast.”
“Did you make Daddy mad?”
“Ha ha ha,” I mocked. “Let’s get this out of the way. I think the Chinese place closes in an hour, and I’m going to need more MSG when this is all said and done.” And, like, a four-year nap.
“I’ll buy you all the Kung Pao your stomach can handle.”
“Sweet talker.” Wind picked up, swirling across the parking lot and whipping my black hair into my eyes and momentarily obscuring my vision of the main house. I pulled my hair into a high, messy ponytail, securing it with the elastic I kept around my wrist. Cade had apparently been watching this whole process, because once I could see again, I noticed the look of amusement he was wearing.
“That’s why I keep mine short.” He rubbed his own head, ruffling the short wisps of curl that were coming in on top. I wondered if his hair was coarse and wiry or soft.
If it was anything like him, it probably felt like a metal scrubby sponge, rough and unapproachable.
We crossed the parking lot in mutual silence. Each new step we took it felt like the temperature dropped a few degrees, until we reached the front steps of the building and I could see my breath in each exhale.
A low rumble of thunder echoed across the water. It wasn’t exactly threatening, more like an announcement, but it was all I needed to hear. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I grabbed Cade’s arm, pulling him to a stop.
“Wait.”
He looked peevish, annoyed I’d stopped us on the threshold, but he couldn’t possibly understand the nuances of the coming storm. He didn’t speak the language of wind and rain and thunder.
“What?” he asked, evidently seeing how serious my expression was.
“He’s here.”
Cade knew I wasn’t talking about the man inside.
Overhead, the clouds, bloated and menacing, opened up, and within seconds the parking lot was drenched. Under the eaves of the main deck we were protected, but this was no mere rain, and what it promised was something I couldn’t hide from.
Seth was here, and he was pissed.
Chapter Six
The rain was falling so hard I couldn’t see Cade’s car across the lot. The sheets were dense enough to look solid, as if the cascading droplets had real form.
