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I took them without speaking, gathering up my hair to poke it through the band at the back of the hat. He watched me the entire time, his attention locked on my hair as it disobeyed me, refusing to fit through the small gap.
“Here…let me.” Slipping behind me, his fingers gathered up the length with a softness he’d never shown before, quietly and meticulously securing each strand.
I couldn’t breathe. I suffocated as surely as if his fingers were locked around my throat.
Each sweep of his touch, each tiny caress on my nape made me wet, made me lightheaded, and poured utmost travesty on my short-lived convictions of before.
I was meant to guard myself against this man, yet here I was fighting every instinct not to swoon into his arms and let him do whatever the hell he wanted.
He strangled three girls.
He might’ve killed them.
Chemistry or not, I could not forget nor forgive.
With a thumping heart, I stepped forward, breaking the strings of sizzling contact and gulping down a salt-laced breath.
He grunted painfully then moved stiffly toward the helm. Instruments and fancy monitors hinted at the exorbitant value of this boat, but Sully turned the key and fiddled with dials and buttons effortlessly, signalling he used the expensive vessel often.
Where the hell is he taking me?
The gentle rumble of the engine was barely noticeable as he cast off and added speed with the throttle, easing out of the small bay.
I didn’t speak as he captained us through shallow water. I leaned over the side, marvelling at the clarity of the sea, revealing colourful coral, sparkling fish, and an inquisitive yellow and black banded sea-snake, coasting in our ripples.
I coughed a little, still sore from what’d happened.
Sully’s head whipped to face me.
I waited for some aggression—some question on my health and vindication of what he’d done. Instead, he forced his shoulders to relax, deleting his tension and returning his attention to the horizon.
Seemed talking wasn’t the purpose of this trip.
Grateful for the quietness between us and the seemingly fragile truce, I followed the beautiful sea until it lapped at the shores of the island I now called home.
I’d seen it from the sky, walked its paths, swam in its coves, but I hadn’t seen it from a distance. Hadn’t been privy to the true wonder of its existence.
Palm trees soared in every direction, some with vines hanging from their sun-straining fronds, others heavy with coconuts. Bushes and smaller trees filled in the gaps below, a spray of yellow, white, purple, and pink flowers all enticing bees and birds to slurp up nectar and scatter pollen.
The sand was crystal white from here, licked with glass-perfect water, while the sun dappled everything in splendour. The backdrop of the turquoise cloudless sky made it seem far too perfect to be real.
If it wasn’t a prison…it would be a place I would never want to leave. A paradise that could never be lived upon full-time but a dream where you might be lucky enough to visit in your sleep.
Two feathered flyers shot from the undergrowth, zooming after the boat as it picked up speed. Pika and Skittles pulled up beside us, their little bodies sleek for air travel, their eyes bright and playful.
They kept pace, swift and darting like little dragonflies over the tide. They didn’t try to land on my offered hand or return to shore, almost as if they had fun playing chase and loving the novelty of spreading their wings and flying, instead of flitting from tree to tree.
I was jealous of their freedom, but also mindful of their limitations.
I didn’t want them to get tired, and I had no idea how far Sully intended to go.
Moving toward him, balancing with the rocking of the boat, I said, “Pika and Skittles are chasing us. Do we need to turn back?”
He turned to watch the two parrots, his lips twisting into a reserved grin. Even with a smile half-committed and extremely rare, it made him nowhere near as malicious. I could be forgiven in thinking he wasn’t a killer of women, after all.
“They can come. Pika often comes with me to Lebah. It’s not far. They can land in the boat if they get tired.”
I forced myself to relax, choosing a waterproof-flocked bench to sit on. “So Lebah is another island?”
He nodded.
“Named in Indonesian for which creature?”
His grin widened. “You catch on quick. Bee.”
“Bee?”
“Without them, the food I grow would have to be bought from genetically modified seeds that don’t allow repeat cultivation. I sourced unaltered crops and keep them going with natural pollination.”
“You’re taking me to your garden?”
“I’m taking us for some peace and quiet.”
“Aren’t there staff there, too?”
He clutched the steering wheel as if the thought of dealing with more people pushed him to his limit. “There are, but they’ve been told to make themselves scarce. They’ll stay away.”
