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I clutch the front of the blanket and pick up my pace to the boat. It takes around fifteen minutes to get to Hades Landing in the daylight, much less at night and in the condition that the weather is in right now. It has to be blowing around eighteen knots, and as much as I love big swells, I’m not particularly fond of them in a speedboat with a shallow hull.
Climbing up onto portside, I scan the area as best I can. LED lights light up the inside, and when I’ve made it to the wheel, I bring the blanket down over my shoulders. My fingers touch a hood and I sigh, pushing my arms through the sleeves. I’m too cold to not wear his hoodie.
Waves slam against the hull of the boat. I’m not as comfortable as a skipper than I am as a surfer, but I still know how to navigate a GPS system, and I know these waters. Tossing the hoodie over my head, I turn the wheel to the left when the lights on the GPS light up, signaling the path I’m to take. The starboard and portside lights flash on either side, and the LED blue light beams beneath the hull, showing the ocean below. Thank fucking God I am behind the break, because crossing the bar in Hades Hollow isn’t an easy task even for the most seasoned skippers.
I sink my chin farther into the warmth of the hoodie, when the scent of clean linen with the subtle hint of expensive bourbon envelops me. God. Of course, the fucking thing smells of him.
The lights flicker over the little computer, and I pull the throttle down to slow the boat when I see a blinking pink light in the distance. Darkness wraps around me, and now without the loud tempo of the engine burning aggressively to chop through the rollers, I notice how quiet it really is. The distinct sound of water crashing against the base of the hull fills that silence every now and then, but other than that, it’s just me idling in the middle of a very temperamental ocean.
I look from left to right, unsure of where I’m supposed to pull up. It must be the pink light flashing. There’s no other place. For years, people have spoken about this island, about the same as people who won’t speak about this island. The tales that hover from this island bleed onto the shores of Hades Hollow. It all started from here. Well…I guess that depends on what story you choose to believe. I’m not sure which I do yet.
My phone vibrates in the hoodie pocket, and I fish it out, swiping it unlocked when I see a new message from the same number.
Follow the light.
I shove it back into my pocket and pick up the throttle slightly. I move forward, and the closer I get to the light, the bigger it gets. There’s a small jetty that stretches out into the water, and a man standing at the end with his back turned to me. I turn sharply into the portside, cutting the engine when he knots a rope around the side cleats.
I stand there nervously when he finishes and watch as the muscles on his arms flex and tense as he moves around the edge of the boat like he’s done this a million times. He probably has. The moon isn’t full, but it’s enough to let off enough light to show his body and what he’s wearing. Jeans and a plain white tee that fit him in all the right places.
When he finally rolls to a stand, his eyes collide with mine, and I hold my breath. His features are sharp. His eyes, though I can’t make out the color right now, slant slightly in an almond shape, or kind of like he’s too lazy to really pay enough attention to look at you. His square jaw and straight nose somehow seem symmetrically perfect, and I wonder if I’m staring back at, quite possibly, the most handsome man I have ever seen. Big Boy aside. I mean…Big Boy is hot too. Wait. No, he is not. He kidnapped me and—
“Get a long enough stare, Poppet?” His words snap me out of my thoughts, and I realize I did all of that thinking while looking directly at the deep-set bow in his top lip. It curves upward in a sly smirk and heat rushes to my cheeks.
Shit.
“You have a package for me?”
His tongue sneaks out and dampens his bottom lip. “Yeah. I do.” He reaches out for me, and I catch the glint of his diamond ring hitting the moonlight. “Come with me.”
I look between his outstretched hand and his eyes. I wonder if he ever stops smirking, and why does it both terrify and excite me?
When I don’t take his hand, he kneels to come level with me as the boat rocks against the waves, hitting the jetty. “What? You don’t trust a stranger?”
I tilt my head to the side. “I don’t know. Are you someone I should trust?”
His eyes fall down my body, stopping where the hoodie ends and exposes my thighs. “That depends.” He leans forward, popping open a compartment between us and pulling out a pair of flip-flops. He drops them on the jetty. “Do you want me to lie?”
My phone vibrates again, and I quickly reach into my pocket, desperate for a distraction, even for a second while I figure out my options. Admittedly, I’m well aware I have none, but for some reason, I assumed I would be collecting something, and then taking it back to Big Boy.
I swipe the phone unlocked and hit speaker, since I already recognize the number.
“Get your ass off the boat, Shiloh.”
I keep my eyes on the guy in front of me. “What’s your name?” I’m asking the one on the phone, but the one in front of me deepens his grin, flicking the corner of his mouth with the edge of his thumb as he steps backward, leaning against a pillar. He looks amused, as if he’s waiting for the answer just as much as I am.
“Sparrow. Now get off the boat.”
The one in front of me slips from his position, his smirk falling slightly.
Hitting the red button, I push my phone back into my pocket and climb out of the boat, slipping my feet into the flip-flops. My feet sit snug inside them, and somehow, it’s a perfect fit.
“Ready to go?” The smirk is back, and I try my best to ignore him when he closes the distance between us. “Follow me.”
I stay close behind him, while remaining a safe distance away so that I’ll at least have a shot of running if I need to. When the jetty turns into dirt, a small RVR idles to the side, with headlights beaming into a dirt track ahead of us.
I turn over my shoulder slightly, taking one last glance at the boat that waits on the jetty, before squeezing the door handle and hopping into the passenger seat.
“Do you trust me now?” he asks, and I turn in my seat to face him.
