Chapter 5
Jeb’s mind filled with unasked questions. His gaze searched hers with a fierce desire to know about her life now. He yearned to delve into the chasm of years lost but knew the timing wasn’t right. But her trust was slow to give, and the cocoon she kept tightly around her would only slowly release. Pushing would only chase her away. She would open up when she was ready. He just needed to get her ready.
A large ball of guilt lodged in his throat, making it hard to breathe. Guilt that he should have done more to keep up with her over the years. But I assumed… He dropped his chin to his chest. Assumptions were a feeble excuse. He knew all too well what assumptions were worth—exactly nothing. Standing in the old lighthouse, he vowed to forge a new bond… one based on understanding. He had no idea how long they’d remained silent, but her words jolted him back to the current situation.
“So… um… there are things I need to get back to,” she said, her gaze now looking everywhere except at him.
As she turned toward the stairs in the corner, he rushed, “Skylar!”
She stopped and twisted to look at him, remaining quiet.
“I…” The tangled thoughts refused to unravel. “I’ll fix something for us to eat, then I’ll come up.”
Her gaze shot over to the crates holding food items. “There’s not much to fix.”
“No worries. I’m a simple eater.”
Her gaze held his for a long moment, then she nodded before turning. Her shoulder slumped before she looked back at him. “I’m sorry, but I will need my chair back upstairs.”
“Of course.” He picked up her chair and, without waiting, carried it up the narrow stairs. Once it was in place in front of the desk filled with computers, he jogged back down, stopping just in front of her.
“Thank you.” She hesitated for a moment, opened her mouth as though to say more, then turned and hastened up to the second floor.
As she disappeared from sight, he sighed heavily, shaking his head. So far, the day had unraveled into a tangled shitstorm. From the moment he set foot on the island, ready to confront a perceived cyber adversary, his expectations had been upended time and again. In the span of a few hours, he’d been perpetually stunned. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever felt so out of his element.
Of all the Keepers, he was the calmest. The rock. The most methodical. The one determined to research every rabbit hole until he could come up with the necessary information to make every mission as successful as possible.
And now, he was so thoroughly caught off guard he barely knew which way to turn. Scrubbing his hand over his head again, he glanced toward the crates holding the food. A flash of anger hit him as he looked at the modest supplies. The idea was that while they were still sending in supplies, she was only having her barest needs met. That stops fucking now,andI guess I know where to start…
He found cans of vegetables and a tin of cooked chicken along with the ramen noodles. As a former SEAL, he’d learn to eat off the land when necessary, and with these supplies, he was in a much better position to create a dinner that he hoped would be well received.
It didn’t take long to fix a one-pot meal with ramen noodles boiled in the water she had filtered in the refrigerator. Adding mixed vegetables and pre-cooked chicken, he had a meal. Not fancy, but filling. Glad she had more than one bowl, he filled them and decided to join her upstairs.
When he arrived, she glanced over her shoulder, her gaze landing on his face and then dropping to the steaming bowls in his hands. She sniffed, appreciation filling her expression.
“I didn’t expect you to fix me something to eat,” she said softly. “But thank you, all the same.”
He dipped his head in acknowledgment and walked over, placing one of the bowls in front of her.
“With only one chair downstairs and this one upstairs, don’t feel like you have to eat with me,” she said. “This place was very much designed for one person.”
With his back against one of the walls, he slid down until his ass met the floor. Balancing the bowl on his bent knees, he took a hefty bite. After swallowing, he said, “It makes you wonder who would’ve lived out here as a lighthouse keeper.”
She nodded, then glanced up toward the wooden ceiling. “When I was first brought out here, I was caught up in the romanticism of the history.” She nodded toward the far corner where a metal ladder was attached to the brick walls. It led to a trapdoor. “The third floor is unusable. The only thing up there was a light, but some of the glass had broken out.”
She pressed her lips together as she held his gaze with a palpable longing. He could have sworn she was about to share something personal, but then she dropped her gaze to her bowl. After taking a bite, she shrugged as she continued, her voice flat. “But I used to wonder the same thing about who would live here. I couldn’t find a lot of research, but I guess in the 1800s, there was a keeper. He lived here by himself.”
“Lonely existence,” Jeb commented, his words heavy with meaning.
“It’s an existence I understand.”
Again, the silence stretched between them, and he wondered if he’d ever faced a deeper chasm in all the missions he’d worked.
As she delicately spooned another bite into her mouth, little murmurs of contentment hummed through the room. “It’s funny,” she mused. “I’ve made this simple meal countless times, but food always tastes better when someone else makes it.”
His grin spread across his face, and he savored another bite himself. It didn’t take long for him to scrape the bottom of the bowl, and he watched as she ate carefully and deliberately. There was no rushing through the meal for her. Each bite was savored. Revered. When she finished all the noodles, vegetables, and chicken, she gently tilted the bowl and drank the broth, ensuring no drop was wasted.
At that moment, a rush of memories surged through Jeb. Memories that hit hard, making the food sour in his stomach. Pushing those thoughts down, he waited until, finally, her bowl was back in her lap, and a little smile of satisfaction curved her lips.
The need to escape for a moment pressed on him, and he stood. Reaching out, he collected her bowl with his. Forcing down all the personal questions he wanted to ask, he let out a slow exhalation, trying to recenter his thoughts. “I didn’t bring up anything to drink. I assume you usually have the water from the filter in the refrigerator?”
“Yes. The water comes from the rainwater catch, and I run it through the filter.”
“That’s smart. I’ll bring you some.”
She glanced toward one of her computer monitors, then looked back at him. “Everything is set for this evening”s runs. I don’t have to do anything else.”
He cast his gaze around the room before settling it on her. “What do you normally do when you finish your work?”
She leaned back, her gaze now following the same trail as his had. “I read books online or stay up here and watch a movie. I’ve been able to stream almost anything I might want to watch.” Her brow furrowed, and she shook her head. “It’s weird, but I realize that I’ve been fortunate in many ways.”
A jolt of tension coursed through him, and his body tightened. His chin jerked back in disbelief. “How the hell do you figure that?” His jagged words were harsher than he meant, but seeing the resigned expression on her face made him want to lash out.
Her pale gaze penetrated as she met his squarely. “Jeb, a lot of people in the world don’t have enough food to eat, books to read, and certainly not movies to watch. While I have been stuck out here longer than I was told, I’ve been earning a paycheck because I can see it going into my bank account. And while the food isn’t gourmet, I haven’t gone hungry. And it may be in an ancient, somewhat crumbling lighthouse, but at least I have a roof over my head.”
His muscles vibrated with anger. “You do realize that what you’re saying would only make sense if being here was your choice? If you had decided to eschew the trappings of the world and come live out here on your own, that would be one thing. But you were coerced out here under false pretenses, and now you’re essentially being held hostage. Don’t turn this into something that it’s not, Skylar. This is a fucking prison, and you’re being treated as a prisoner, even if you have been given some privileges and a fat paycheck.”
His body still shook with rage, but he remained steady, his gaze not wavering. Her tongue darted out to moisten her bottom lip, but she continued to be quiet. And as though the years had dropped away, he could see how she carefully pondered his words the way she used to.
Everything about the moment between them was new… yet hauntingly familiar.