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Twenty
Malakai
I lookat my watch for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. She’s late. An hour late. I’ve picked up my phone to text her a dozen times demanding she come but deleted every single one. Behind me Grant sighs heavily.
“Mate, you need to calm the fuck down. You’re going to wear a damn hole in my floor.”
I swivel on my feet and glare at him. “Don’t tell me to calm down. Connie’s been hanging around with some douchebag for the past couple of weeks and is mostly likely withhimright now. I asked you to keep an eye on her god-fucking-dammit!”
Grant frowns, shaking his head. “I have kept an eye on her! No harm has come to Connie.”
“But she isn’t fucking here!” I roar back, fully aware of how unhinged I sound.
“Look, I don’t know where this is all coming from. The kid is just some backpacker from Australia who’s taken a shine to Connie. A passing summer fling at best. I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
My teeth grind together. “I asked you to tell me if anyonetriedto get close to her.”
“And I did…”
“Are they fucking?”
Grant throws his hands up in the air. “How the hell would I know if they’re fucking? I might be good at keeping tabs on people, but I’m not a voyeur, or your fucking skivvy, I might add.”
“They better not be fucking!”
Grant shakes his head, giving me one of his looks. Unbeknownst to everyone on the island, Grant is an old friend of mine. Well, more of an acquaintance given I don’t do friendships all that well. He’s the one who sold me Princess all those years ago. At the time, he had a boat building business in Brittany. We got to talking and I told him about this island, though little more than that. He’d recognised a man on the run, just like I did. We’ve both got shady pasts, but we don’t discuss them. It’s better that way.
Then, about three years ago Grant sold his business and moved here permanently. Ever since, he’s kept me informed about island life. He was the one who told me that Lola had come to live on the island. It took him a while to figure out that we knew each other, but once he realised the connection, he let me know. He’s also been instrumental at keeping me up-to-date with the Palace after I asked him to keep an eye on the place for me. A few years ago he reported that the Palace had people staying there. It wasn’t hard to work out who that was, though I never told Grant about my connection to the place or the person who owns it. Fortunately for everyone here on the island, it has stood empty ever since. Taking my anger out on the floor, I begin pacing up and down again.
“You want to talk about it?” Grant cocks a brow and waits for my response.
“No.”
“Fair enough.”
That’s the thing about Grant. He’s never probed too deeply into my past and has always respected my need for privacy. It’s why he never thought to tell me about Connie before because I’d never mentioned my connection to Ma Silva and Annabelle. Though, he’s probably worked that out by now. He might not pry, but he isn’t an idiot.
“She’s an attractive young woman, Malakai. Are you really all that surprised someone’s taken a liking to her?” It’s more of a statement than a question, but it pisses me off, nonetheless.
“Not surprised, no.” I’m justreallytwisted up about it, not that I’m ready to admit that to anyone who might actually give a fuck.
“Look, they’ve been hanging out together. As far as I can tell she’s put this Peter lad in the friendzone. Though the guyispersistent, I’ll give him that,” Grant continues.
“And you didn’t think to tell me about how close they’ve been getting?” I growl, unable to control my temper.
“You asked me to keep an eye on Connie, make sure she was safe. Peter is hardly a threat.”
I grunt a garbled response and Grant pulls a face. “Next time be more explicit,” he says.
“More explicit about what?”
We both snap our heads around. Connie has just entered the boat shop, over an hour late.
“That’d be my cue to leave. Catch you later, Malakai,” Grant mutters, nodding his head at Connie before exiting the shop by the rear door.
I don’t acknowledge him leaving. I can’t. I’m fucking struck dumb by Connie’s closeness. I can’t speak, let alone move. She’s here.
My Little Siren is here.
