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Tomorrow…
Tomorrow I’ll deal with Droga.
23
KATURA
I wakeup a little past dawn. This island has some sort of magic, because I sleep like a rock. Maybe it’s all the stress—every day is a rollercoaster.
I put on the light green shorts and tank—the island uniform, then make a coffee and sit for some time on the small deck behind the bungalow, studying the ocean in the distance.
This feels like a vacation, minus the drama. Let’s just hope these people with guns and shady morals are not complete dicks—I’ve had enough after the Change.
Except for Archer. He is definitely a dick. His morals are yet to be determined. And he doesn’t carry a gun, because—yeah, he has a team of jarheads and gunslingers, or whoever they are, following him everywhere.
Right now, the upper echelon is all about this Droga drama while I have my own shit to figure out. My satellite phone is on the Eastside. I haven’t had access to the data center yet. And Archer—aka Big Dick—is ignoring me.
I’m thinking of finding out where Kai and Callie are staying but then leave the thought alone. I’m sure they are fucking the imminent doom out of their system right now. That is if Kai is not injured too badly.
I need to talk to Archer. Kai has too much pinned-up anger. Me, I am a number one negotiator. If only I can keep my cool around Mr. Chancellor.
Everyone needs to chill out.
There is nothing much for me to do, except hike around the resort perimeter, which takes a couple of hours. And I didn’t even go through all the roads that crisscross the hill, up, down, and sideways. But I have a better idea of the structure now, and that helps me kill some time.
It’s around noon when I am back down on the beach and a Quad zooms toward me. I recognize Marlow’s sparkly-white grin.
“What’s up, beautiful? Wanna ride?”
I want not to die out of boredom. Grateful for the company, I hop on and smile broadly as we zoom toward the distant most northern part of the beach, past the docks, the boats, the security tower, and pull up to a cliffy area.
Then we sit on the beach and chat.
Marlow comes across as cocky and flirty, but he is a good-hearted guy. Like Ty. God gathered all the good-looking guys and put them on this island. I am surprised Marlow is single, which is one of many things I find out as we talk. As well as more info on Archer, Axavier, Raven, Osian, Savages from the Ashlands, Butcher and his gang in Port Mrei, and people I haven’t yet met but need to.
Research, yeah. I need several days of Marlow talking to know what’s up.
“This place is paradise, but it has its own pits of hell, you know.” Marlow smiles. He pulls a joint out of his duty belt, and I moan when he lights it and the familiar smell tickles my nostrils.
“Fucker,” I whimper, snatching it out of his fingers. “Why didn’t you say you had some?”
“Kitten, it’s Zion. And you are with the best of the best.” He winks, grinning beautifully.
I squint as I take a deep drag and swim for a moment when the first high hits.
“We are not friends yet,” I say, exhaling a cloud of smoke, “so I prefer a more formal address.”
“Oh, yeah? Kat?”
“Katura.”
“Well, you can call me Nicholas Perry Marlow. You can add sir if you’re feeling too formal.”
I elbow him as I grin.
“So, Nicholas Perry Marlow,” I add for juice, “how come you are single?”
“You realize Zion is a closed circle, right?”
