Chapter Thirty-Six

Isla

I heard the muffled talking outside my door, but I didn’t move.

I listened.

The two voices were too deep to distinguish any individual words, but I still knew it was Nix and Ares.

Then the talking stopped, and I heard the faintest click of a lock unlatching before the whisper-soft movement of the door moving over carpet.

Pretending I was still asleep, I kept my breathing even despite my heart jumping a mile, then deciding to slam against my ribs for sport.

There was a soft thud, then the sound of the door moving repeated before the latch clicked again. Except this time, the faint catch of lock tumblers followed.

That bastard.

Listening hard, I waited thirty seconds.

No breathing, no footsteps, no nothing except the low hum of the boat’s engines that’d slowed way down over the past half hour.

To be safe, I counted down from thirty.

Then I slowly rolled over like I was just coming awake and opened my eyes.

No SEAL.

Just the muted light of a cloudy morning and my backpack sitting against the wall by the door when it’d been by the bed last night.

A distant sound of a ship horn drew my attention to the windows, and I glanced out.

Land. More importantly, a port.

And we were heading right for it.

Shoving off the soft comforter, still naked from the waist down, I grabbed my bikini bottoms. More than a little humiliated in the light of day, cursing myself for even thinking of waiting for him all night, I hated how I could still feel where his fingers had been.

Ignoring my traitorous hormones, I quickly retied the sides of the bottom of my swimsuit. Then I went for my backpack and pulled out a shirt, pants, socks and my hiking boots.

Dressed in under a minute, ignoring how my journal was right on top of all my things inside my backpack when I usually kept it in an interior pocket, I grabbed my small toiletries bag.

Fishing out the container I kept tampons in, I reached into the bottom and grabbed two of the paperclips I kept in there.

Screw a SEAL who stole my barrette.

Putting everything back into my pack except the paperclips, I zipped it up and shouldered it.

Then I went to the window and watched as the giant boat gently floated toward the docks as if it were drifting instead of being expertly navigated.

Bending the paperclips, I waited.

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