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He arched a brow at my observation.
“You always wear a suit.”
His eyes raked over me from a distance, making my blood heat everywhere. His tight black jeans accentuated every damn muscle and a dark grey pullover made him look urban and edgy. His hair was uncharacteristically ruffled and several days-worth of stubble lined his jaw. I swallowed dryly.
“I have a different kind of business planned for this evening,” he said in a low voice loaded with intention. “And I’m growing impatient, Vivian. I’ll wait out here.”
He delivered his warning and stepped out into Minty’s living room, leaving me short of breath and clueless as to what the hell I could wear that might evoke a similar reaction in him.
Ten minutes later, I emerged and waited for him to turn. I’d found a pair of vintage jeans that hugged my hips and a cropped sweater that skimmed over my belly button. I left my hair down so it caressed my bare shoulder and only dabbed a small amount of Minty’s blush on my cheeks.
I watched for his reaction but there was barely any. His jaw ground in the shadows and his shoulders seemed to swell. I tried not to show my disappointment that I hadn’t made him weak like he’d made me.
“In the car,” he ordered, reminding me of the time he found me stealing mushrooms from the labs. He sounded angry and downright exasperated.
I huffed as I sauntered past him, making a point of swaying my hips. I felt his heat at my back as he tailed me to his beast of a car. Instead of opening the passenger door gallantly, like the gentleman he insisted on being, he flung it wide and strode round to the driver’s side.
I slid into the seat with raised brows. He seemed to be in a mighty bad mood all of a sudden.
We drove in silence across the island. It was deserted. No other cars on the road, only dim lights in the houses. It was as though everyone was hiding, hoping the recent fires were a horrible dream. Overnight, people lost their jobs, their purposes. It wasn’t just the lab workers, it was those who supported the infrastructure – the port workers, the scientists, the security teams. The only place that still seemed to buzz was Caspian House. The Consortium families, it seemed, had continued as though nothing had happened. Sure, the most senior and influential family on the island had suffered multiple catastrophes, but the rest of them were alright, Jack. They were each still rich beyond all comprehension, and their happy hours, their lunchtime tipples and their debauched evenings hadn’t been impacted in any way. If anything, Ossian’s absence meant they could enjoy themselves more without his bitter and twisted shadow looming over them.
We drove past the Glade, past the charred acres of land once surrounding the labs. An acrid smell worked its way round the window frames and I held my breath until we’d passed by some distance. Before long, the edge of the island was in sight. I’d never ventured this far, to the clifftops; I’d only seen pictures of them.
A tall structure emerged from a brush stroke of silver mist. “What’s that?” I asked, my heartbeat picking up speed.
“The lighthouse,” Rupert replied eventually. He was still punishing me for something.
“That’s where we’re going?”
He didn’t bother to reply that time, and instead pulled up in front of the beautiful tower and turned off the engine. I sat waiting while he fetched something from the back of the car, then opened my door, shooting fiery eyes at me as I climbed out.
“What’s that?” I glanced down at the bundle in his arms.
“Blankets,” he snapped.
“We’re sleeping here?” Was he serious? It was freezing.
He grumbled something illegible and strode off towards the building. I stood inside the door hugging my arms around myself as he walked round the small space lighting the lamps attached to the wall. A metal staircase wound around the outer edge leading to a floor above. I followed Rupert up the steps as he continued to light the lamps and ignore my very presence. At the top floor, he unlocked a set of doors and pushed them open. I gasped at the sight.
The same silver mist that cloaked the lighthouse was layered over the sea, softening the lights of boats in the distance. The sound of waves crashing against the cliff side gave the scene a magical, dramatic edge.
“Why is this place so special to you?” I whispered against the persistent howl of the wind.
Rupert placed my hands over the railings and curled his fingers over them. The shock of the cold metal was dampened by the warmth of his body wrapping around mine.
He didn’t answer straight away and I began to wonder if he’d heard when he spoke quietly.
“I used to come here as a kid,” he said. “Whenever things became too much, I would hide out here, sometimes for days.”
“Didn’t people worry about you?” I asked, realising the absurdity of that question before it had finished leaving my mouth.
He huffed bitterly. “No. That should have sounded a few alarm bells, but it didn’t. I thought that was just the way families were – that if we were struggling in some way, we took that shit off somewhere else so no one had to worry about it. Hector would always go looking for me but I think after a while he figured I didn’t want to be found. Most times, he was right.”
I pressed my back against him. “I’m sorry you felt alone. What made you want to come out here? What happened to make you run away?”
“A lot of things over the years,” he sighed. “The one I remember most clearly was when Dax was injured.”
I held my breath through his long pause.
