CHAPTER 16 ROHAN
ROHAN
W hat do you see?” Rohan posed the question from the top of the flagpole.
“A starry night and not much else.” Savannah gave herself a moment to take in the view from fifty feet up.
Rohan removed his right hand from the pole and brought his fingertips to lightly brush Savannah’s temple.
“What do you see ?” he repeated. His own mind laid out every detail of the island over the darkness of night.
“The ruins. The burned forest, the living one. Stone arches with a dock beneath. Thorny brush. The helipad. The house. And beneath one of the many cliffs on this island, a bonfire I would wager no longer burns. What else?”
Rohan had been trained to miss nothing, but the point of having an ally was, in part, a matter of additional perspective.
“A stone staircase,” Savannah said in the darkness. “Another dock. Evidence.”
“Of?” Rohan prompted.
As ever, there was no hesitation in Savannah Grayson: “What Hawthornes can get away with by being Hawthornes.”
She was talking about the devastating fire, decades past—and about her father. Is it the Hawthornes you blame—or is it Avery Grambs? Savannah’s anger was a many-layered beast. From Rohan’s perspective, it was both a strength and a weakness.
Use the strength now. Exploit the weakness later.
“Channel it, love.”
“You seem to be confused.” Even in darkness, Savannah could make the arch of her brow heard in the tone of her voice alone. “You aren’t the teacher here, British. I’m not your pupil. I am here for a reason, and it is not you.”
Rohan smiled. “I’m a magnificent bastard, love.
I’m not anyone’s reason.” Their limbs were very nearly entangled on the pole.
Rohan brought his face closer to hers, his lips to her ear.
“Picture in your mind a golden dart. Don’t think.
Don’t hesitate. Don’t even breathe. What are we looking for, Savvy? ”
Answers flew through his own mind.
“A dartboard,” Savannah said. “Or a tar—”
Rohan’s well-honed senses sent up a warning. “Eyes,” he told Savannah. “On us.”
They had company. In the darkness of the night, it took Rohan a moment to locate the company in question. Hello, Mr. Daniels.
“In a game like this one,” Rohan told Savannah, “some contenders play the game, and some play the other players. The logical alternative to solving the puzzles is to track your competitors as they solve them.”
Rohan really should have known better than to say something like that to Savannah Grayson. In an instant, she was flying down the flagpole. Rohan followed but held back slightly, interested to see how she would play this.
“The girl you’re playing for.” Savannah addressed Brady with that high-society voice of hers, diamonds and iron. “The one you lost. What was her name?”
Brady didn’t so much as blink. “Her name is Calla.”
Is , Rohan thought. Present tense.
“You’re playing this game—and trying to win—for Calla .” Savannah didn’t make that a question. “Money can move mountains. Or maybe your sponsor can?”
Right for the jugular.
Brady stared at Savannah for a moment. “You’re nothing like your sister.”
Savannah had succeeded in getting under his skin. Brady was trying to do the same to her. Gigi was a weak point for Savannah—one of very few.
But in response to Brady’s words, Savannah showed no weakness. “I was born first. It would be more accurate to say that Gigi is nothing like me.”