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Just pure, unadulterated hunger.
I did that.
Me.
I rolled on my side and stared into the darkness. My fingers grazed my bottom lip. I could still feel Deacon’s lingering kiss. Could feel his strong arms surrounding my waist. Fingers trailing the skin on my back.
Heated, I sat up and pressed a hand to my beating heart.
Guilt was the appropriate emotion after such lewd behavior so why was I getting worked up again?
Hindsight screamed at me with a voice that sounded identical to my father’s.
“You don’t know this man. Why would you get naked with him? Did you consider the fact that he might have a disease? Did either of you wear protection? What if you’d gotten pregnant? Are you ready to have kids? Are you ready to potentially raise them alone?”
This little spiel felt familiar to me and I realized, with a gasp, that I’d heard these warnings when I was with Deacon. They’d rung in my head while his hot lips branded my shoulder, my neck and… other places. They’d tried to get my attention over the moans and the writhing.
They’d screamed at me.
I’d ignored it.
Because I’d wanted him more than I wanted to be the ‘good’ girl.
It was a revelation about myself that I didn’t want to face. My beliefs had always been important to me and my behavior was an extension of the values my father planted in my head as a child.
So who had I become?
Or had I always been this person?
I stood and paced to the window. The colors outside stole my breath. The sky was a magical blend of black and blue, while a blush of pink inched ahead.
Dawn was approaching.
I wanted to dart outside, scream at the sky and forget this night ever happened. Fear of running into Humphries and Deacon kept me imprisoned. The view from the window would have to work for now.
I wrestled with the locks and shouldered the latch until the window burst free. A gentle breeze filled the room. Light crept in, chasing the darkness. I took a long, cleansing breath. Enjoying the scent of a new day. A new beginning.
In a few hours, I’d hop on a boat and leave this island forever. My problematic feelings for Deacon and the decisions I’d made here would be lost at sea.
Freedom.
I could almost taste it.
Suddenly, my phone rang.
Startled, I jumped and whirled around. The display screen lit up beneath the comforter I’d left tangled on the bed.
My muscles tightened.
It was too early for that call to mean something good.
I bounded over and unwound the blankets until the phone plopped to the mattress. Scooping it up, I glanced at the screen.
Mom’s name appeared.
I picked up and spoke anxiously. “Mom?”
“It’s me, Angel.”
