Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
My fingers itched to play, but I ignored them.
If I gave in, I’d lose myself to hours of music until midnight replaced early evening.
Once I’d locked the cello inside its case, I shrugged into a fresh black t-shirt and left my room.
Pim was on deck. Deck meant neutral territory with multiple staff keeping boundaries in place. I would prefer not to see her, but I had to man the fuck up and apologise. Breaking bread together would give us a reason to meet. And if she hated my guts, then I’d think on my feet and offer an alternative to her staying with me.
Obsession or no obsession.
I wouldn’t destroy Pim just to get what I needed.
I’d survived this long without slipping.
I’d do whatever it took to continue.
Chapter Four
______________________________
Pimlico
MY HEART SAW him before my eyes did.
Somehow, the organ responsible for keeping me alive in the worst of tragedies had reprogramed itself to his frequency. I was in better sanctuaries now, yet he still made my skin break out with goosebumps.
I knew the moment he was close even though I couldn’t see or hear him.
I knew he saw me by the way my scalp prickled beneath his attention.
And I knew his sole purpose for being here was because of me, just like my sole purpose of being there was for him.
We needed to clear the air before I drove myself crazy.
He’d taken something from me that I wasn’t prepared to give. But in doing so, he’d unlocked something I wasn’t strong enough to tap into. I owed him retribution and thanks.
I just didn’t know which would come first.
Soundless feet whispered with hesitation as he inched closer.
He moved slowly as if afraid I’d bolt if he approached too fast.
Where would I run? How far could I swim in the vast unending ocean before he scooped me from the salty brine and took yet another piece of me?
No, running wasn’t an option anymore—even if the sea didn’t prevent such a thing.
I’ll stay and fight.
My shoulders tensed with conviction, ready and willing to go to war.
Step by silent step, his shadow crept across the polished wooden deck until he pulled to a stop beside me at the stern.
The sun sank below the horizon, turning from golden orb to cut-in-half penny—sliced by the ocean and spilling its warm halo. The twinkle of light on the dark sea danced with watery rays as if showing a treasure map and promising wealth beneath.
My bones ached with the pressure of his presence. His gaze remained locked on the horizon, his face painted in burnt sienna and bronze.
My fingers latched tighter around the railing, doing my best to control the heightened awareness pinpricking me until I bled from tiny holes.
I didn’t know how much time passed—two minutes or twenty—but finally, he murmured while still staring at the sky, “I’m sorry, Pimlico.”
Instantly, my head hung as if a thousand regrets pulled me down. I didn’t realise how much I needed to hear that. To know he understood something Alrik never did: that there were boundaries and lines and stepping over them was never okay. Elder recognised he’d bulldozed past them but was courteous enough to make amends.
With three words, he’d shown me everything I needed to prove he wasn’t like the men who had sold and bought me. He wasn’t a beast. He was human. And like all humans, he’d made a mistake.
And I made a mistake by not talking to him. By not trusting him sooner. By not thanking him for his protection.
The weight of guilt and remorse in his voice was what affected me the most. Not the apology but the depth of feeling behind it. No man or monster—no matter what they’d done—could ever be evil with that tuning fork of goodness in their tone.
I swallowed hard as Elder placed his hand over mine on the railing. His fingers hovered tentatively, barely capturing, just offering his body heat and a roof to seek shelter beneath.
“You asked me where I was two years ago.” He sighed softly. “You don’t talk to me for weeks, and then when you finally do, it’s a question that doesn’t have a right answer.”
I half turned to face him. My lips parted to tell him he didn’t have to answer—that it was wrong of me to ask such things—but he didn’t stop.
“Two years ago, I was in Dubai completing a business deal.”
I jolted. Not because of the location of his work but because as much as I’d known he wasn’t at the QMB when I was up for auction, it still hurt to think he wasn’t there. I didn’t know what would’ve made me feel better. In the audience, hidden behind a nasty paper mache mask? Or halfway across the world, neither aware nor responsible for my wellbeing?
I looped my thumb over his, our hands joining on the railing.