Chapter 8
The first glass had been for courage.
The second had been for punishment.
By the fifth, maybe the sixth, Everett had stopped assigning purpose to any of it.
He stood at the far edge of Rocco and Jemma’s property where the clipped lawn gave way to a narrow strip of wild growth and sea grape bushes.
The garden party carried on behind him in a blur of steel drums, laughter, clinking glasses, and people pretending life was simple because the sunset was too beautiful to let anything ugly belong in it.
It was the kind of sunset the Palmchat Islands produced without effort or apology, the kind that made you feel robbed if you were in no condition to appreciate it.
He leaned one shoulder against the low stone wall and stared at the line where the sea met the dying day. Golden light spilled over the ocean and set the water on fire. The horizon burned orange and copper, then bled into a bruised violet sky.
Remington had gone back into the party.
She was really good.
Truly.
The words kept looping in his skull with aggressive cruelty.
He tipped the crystal tumbler and let the last swallow of Bishop’s Reserve burn down his throat. It barely touched the pain. That part of him was too deep for liquor. Too old. Too stitched into his bones.
The rum was doing what rum did, smoothing the sharp edges of painful thoughts, leaving him with a kind of clarified misery. A man knew himself better, not worse, with enough rum in him.
That was the trouble with it.
He heard footsteps on the grass behind him, but didn’t turn.
“Are you here to stop me?” Everett asked.
The words came out rougher than intended. A breeze caressed his face, carrying with it the smell of salt and charcoal smoke.
Adonis Williams stepped into his peripheral vision and rested his forearms on the stone beside him.
He was dressed in a short-sleeved ivory knit and tan trousers, but there was nothing soft about the man.
Built like his name suggested, broad through the shoulders and steady with an easy strength.
He was the only native Palmchatter of their group, born and raised in St. Xavier.
He had friends across all the islands, but none closer than they were.
He belonged to Stingray like all of them did. Without condition, without agenda.
“Nah,” Adonis said. “I’m here to make sure you make it home alive.”
Everett let out a dry laugh. “Thanks.”
“For what it’s worth, you look like shit.”
“Also helpful.”
“That’s what friends are for.”
The band shifted into a slower song, quieter now, unhurried in the way live music gets when the crowd has eaten and drunk enough to stop needing to be entertained and simply wants to be held in the sound.
Somewhere deeper in the garden, Gabrielle’s laugh rose above the others and drifted away on the wind.
Everett couldn’t hear Remington’s voice even though he knew she was still there. He hated that he listened for it anyway.
Adonis reached behind him, stole the bottle Everett had set in the crook of the wall, and checked the weight.
“Damn,” he said. “You weren’t playing.”
Everett said nothing.
Adonis handed the bottle back but kept his gaze on the ocean. “This about Remi?”
Everett laughed again, softer this time. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Adonis was quiet for a beat. The breeze pushed at the palms overhead, making the fronds rasp together like whispered warnings.
“She’s definitely enjoying herself,” Adonis said. “Not sure I’ve seen her this carefree in a long time.”
The words felt like a punch in the gut.
“We talked.”
Adonis turned then. “Who the fuck is we?”
“Me and Remington.”
Adonis blinked once. “Directly?”
Everett nodded.
“To each other?”
“Yeah.”
“The two of you in a conversation.”
“One on one. No one else around.”
Adonis let out a low whistle and looked back toward the party as if he might somehow catch the aftershock of it hanging in the air. “Fuck. What happened?”
Everett stared down into his glass, though there was nothing left in it.
“It was short,” he said. “Started sweet. Ended bitter.” He swallowed. “Some part of me always thought there was a chance, you know. That’s why I stayed away.”
Adonis snorted.
Everett looked at him.
“Liar,” Adonis said. “That’s not why you stayed away at all.”
“Fine,” Everett muttered. “But I thought there was a chance because somewhere deep down, I didn’t think it was possible that she was happier with Bobby than she’d been with … me.”
Silence answered him, giving the memories room to fester.
Remington’s face rose up again with devastating clarity. The way she had looked at him over the rim of the glass coffee mug. The way the light had caught in her eyes. The smile that came when she said it.
I’m really good, Everett. Truly.
Her smile was like a blade driven in, pulled out, then driven in again.
Because that expression was familiar. He knew every version of her smile.
The shy one. The teasing one. The wicked one she used when she wanted him flustered.
The radiant one that showed up when she was so happy she forgot to guard herself.
That was the smile she’d given him.
Not for him.
To tell him she belonged somewhere else now.
“I asked her if she was good,” Everett said.
His voice sounded distant to his ears. “And I swear she couldn’t hide how happy she was.
With Bobby.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth.
“She kept it short not to destroy me, but hell, there was no denying it. She’s not looking back.
She’s not pining over what we once had. What she has now with him is everything she could’ve ever wanted after what she went through because of me. ”
Adonis’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt.
“It’s like telling me freed her,” Everett said. “Lifted a weight she’d been carrying too damn long.”
Adonis exhaled and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, man.”
Everett shook his head and stared at the party behind them without seeing it.
Lanterns had begun to glow in the trees.
Servers moved between guests with trays of grilled shrimp, fried plantains, and champagne.
Out near the center of the lawn, Remington stood with Jemma and Gabrielle, her coral dress moving in the wind, hugging the curves of her toned body.
His hand flexed. The tumbler fell to the grass.
“How can I be happy for her and miserable at the same time?” he asked quietly.
“Because I am. I’m overjoyed to see the Remington I love still there.
That teenage girl who mesmerized me with her sweet, playful toughness.
The woman she’d become by the time I came back to the islands.
The one who stole my heart again with a single glance.
” He looked down, throat tightening. “She wasn’t destroyed back then.
I’m so grateful for that. I thought if I knew she had a better life without me, it would make the difference, but … ”
“You’re still as in love with her as you’ve always been.” Adonis finished it for him.
“I feel like I’m dying a slow, painful death.” He looked at his friend, desperate for relief. “How do I get past that?”
Adonis looked at him for a long moment. “You don’t.”
Everett laughed once under his breath. “That’s encouraging.”
“You asked.”
“Unfortunately.”
Adonis rested both elbows on the wall and faced the ocean again.
“You will never get over Remi. That’s not the goal.
The goal is to learn to live with the ache so you can have a happy life too.
Meet somebody who stops you from wanting the past. Dulls the pain enough that you almost forget it’s there.
” He paused. “But it’ll never leave you. And that’s okay.”
Everett let the words settle. He recognized the truth in them and hated it. He gave a small nod. “Yeah.”
A rustling came from the bushes to their right.
Both men straightened on instinct, reaching for their concealed weapons. Everett turned as Kane eased through the sea grape trees in full stealth mode. He had leaves in his hair, a grin too wide for decency, and a linen shirt open one button too low.
Adonis lowered his hand from behind his back. “Surprised to see you at this party.”
“I’m not at the party.” Kane’s grin grew brighter. He glanced between them, gaze settling on Everett. He read people too well for a man who spent half his life making sure they never saw him. “Looks like you need an escape.”
Everett stared. Then, despite everything, a laugh erupted from him.
Kane jerked a thumb back toward the bushes. “Want to get out of here before one of these special agents realizes I’m on the list of criminals they’ve been trying to find?”
Everett laughed again, this time harder. “Yeah, where to?”
“Queen Palm Hotel.” Kane rubbed his hands together vigorously, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick roll of cash bound by a black band. He waved it once in the air like a flag. “I hit a windfall. Let’s go see if we can double it.”
Adonis barked a laugh. “You think that stolen money is going to be lucky?”
“Stolen?” Kane clutched the money to his heart. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing at a respectable gathering?”
“The way my luck has been today, you don’t want me anywhere around a casino and that cash,” Everett said.
“I have a feeling your luck is about to change,” Kane said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out two more rolls of bound cash. He slapped one down into Everett’s palm, then wiggled the other at Adonis.
“I’m in if you are,” Adonis said, giving him a chance to opt out.
Everett turned to look over his shoulder. His eyes searched and then found Remington. She stood near the garden with other guests, laughing and dancing to the music.
He let himself look at her for one final second.
Then he looked away.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m in.”