Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
The fact that he knew I’d received a black dress in my basket this morning told me all I needed to know.
Locke knew I had done The Hunt, and there would be hell to pay.
Of course he’d know what was in my basket and the gifts I received. He oversaw The Hunt. I was pretty sure there was very little he didn’t know about what occurred during the event.
“We’re going to Ghost Pines tonight,” he added.
“Tonight?”
He had mentioned us going, but it was still too soon. And did he really plan on lecturing me at the fanciest restaurant on the island?
“I’ll pick you up in thirty,” he said before hanging up the phone.
As soon as Locke hung up on me, I paced back and forth in my room. I knew I was in deep trouble. It wasn’t as if I thought I’d be able to keep it a secret from Locke. The reality was that deep down, I think I knew he’d find out. Maybe I was testing him. Pushing him. But why?
I slipped the black dress over my head. The fabric clung to my curves, the neckline plunging low enough to reveal the swell of my breasts. Since he clearly knew of my gifts, I decided finally to wear the diamond necklace I’d received in my first basket. Ghost Pines was so freaking fancy, at least I’d look the part and maybe I wouldn’t be called out for being an imposter.
This wasn’t how I thought I’d be spending my evening. I had blown off work at the docks today to recover from last night. The money and jewels from my basket helped ease my guilt about taking a sick day. I had an evening of binge-watching TV and popcorn ahead of me. Not this. But classic Locke Hartwell. When he demanded something, you did it.
Thirty minutes later, I was ready and waiting outside my cottage when his sleek black car pulled up to the curb. The door opened, and Locke emerged, dressed in a sharp suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and chiseled torso.
His piercing brown eyes scanned me from head to toe before finally settling on my face. “You look beautiful,” he said, his voice melting my nervousness slightly.
I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. I had messed up, and I knew it. “I know you didn’t want me to do The Hunt,” I muttered, looking down at the ground, deciding to cut straight to the chase. “But—”
Locke’s expression remained unchanged. “We’ll discuss it at dinner,” he said, offering me his arm.
The drive to Ghost Pines was silent, the only sound the hum of the car’s engine. As we pulled up to the valet, I felt a knot form in my stomach. Locke stepped out of the car, his hand extended to help me out. I took it reluctantly, feeling the cool touch of his skin against mine.
We made our way through the crowded restaurant, the scent of expensive perfume and cologne filling the air. The hostess led us to a private table in the corner, away from prying eyes, which I was grateful for.
I didn’t belong in a place like this, and at least this way, no one could see the fraud trying to awkwardly fit in.
Locke ordered a bottle of red wine, and we both sat in silence until it was poured and the waiter left the table.
“You gave me your word that you wouldn’t do The Hunt again,” he said, his voice cold and unforgiving.
There was a long silence between us, the only sound the distant murmur of other patrons. I could feel Locke’s eyes on me, studying me carefully.
“I know you feel I gave you my word,” I began after sipping from my wine. “But I didn’t promise. I didn’t actually say it.”
Locke’s eyes bored into mine, and for a moment, I thought he was going to say something else. But then, he took a long sip of wine and leaned back in his chair.
“Are we really going to play that game?” he finally said, his eyes flickering with anger.
I swallowed thickly, knowing that there was no way to talk my way out of this. But there was something inside me that couldn’t resist the thrill of The Hunt. The danger, the adrenaline rush, it was like a drug that I couldn’t get enough of.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t help myself. The Hunt is addictive, and I think you know that.”
Locke’s eyes narrowed, and I could feel the tension in the air.
I continued, “You don’t have an issue with anyone else on this island being part of it. You host it. You. And I can bet money you wore your own bone mask last night too. I think you’re being a hypocrite. You yourself condone The Hunt.”