Chapter 16
CILLA
I took to boat life with relative ease.
Locke and I slipped into a routine of sorts. Cleaning up, checking my wounds, breakfast, and then he left me alone. By the second week, I’d plowed through half of his books.
Locke was a solitary sort and wasn’t great with conversation.
I managed to get a ten minute conversation out of him every few days.
Otherwise, we hit a few points on the coast of Massachusetts.
He was a damn good fisherman, and I poured over the cookbooks he had to find a new way to make trout taste good.
The days he found salmon were way more fruitful.
His cabinets wouldn’t win any awards, but there were enough spices and lemon for me to be able to figure out a few decent meals.
We’d only made port once and a massive bag of groceries were waiting for us on the docks at the Boston Harbor. He’d been cagey about stopping there and wouldn’t let me off the damn boat.
But I was still hobbling around, so there wasn’t much use fighting with him.
I did find a fat stack of new books in the bottom of the bag.
He’d been paying attention to the books I enjoyed.
The twisty psychological thrillers of Harlan Coben were my favorites.
And I’d laughed at the romance novel he’d added.
It was at the top of the best seller’s list and a doorstop with over six hundred pages.
I devoured it.
At my job I’d rarely had time to read.
Considering my leg was still throbbing when I walked too much on my own, I took the time to let myself heal. I figured I’d be bored, but soaking up the sunny July days were doing my mind wonders. The nightmares had abated to only a few times a week.
And each time, Locke sat with me without a word.
He didn’t touch me anymore.
Even when the nightmares were thick and wicked, he simply sat next to me.
It helped, even if I ached for his arms. I knew he was dealing with his own demons and was grateful for somewhere to heal and stay.
We checked in with Stone every Thursday, but neither of us had anything to update. My memories were still spotty. Officer Stone wanted me to work with a sketch artist, but all I had were inky black eyes and macabre teeth. Nightmare fuel, but it wouldn’t help Stone with a suspect.
However, today, we’d be seeing him in person.
I had to get my staples out.
We weren’t going to Pickering. Instead, we headed for Boston Harbor. We were going to take the ferry to Salem in hopes that we’d stay under the radar.
I just finished braiding my hair when Locke came to find me. We kept the doors to our rooms open just in case I needed anything. I was getting stronger by the day, but I still needed help with the stairs.
The only time he touched me.
The one thing I looked forward during my days, sad as that was.
He filled the doorway, wearing a pair of beat up jeans and tight black T-shirt. Instead of his usual bare feet, he had sturdy boots on. His beard was still unruly and made me hot just looking at him.
“Ready?”
I nodded and gathered up the makeup strewn across the bottom of my bed.
His gaze tracked over my loose navy maxi dress with tiny white daisies.
It was a bit big on me and kept dropping off one shoulder, but it was comfortable against the heat of the day.
I wore a white tank under it and felt a bit restricted.
I’d been living in my bikinis and oversized T-shirts and shorts.
I used my lip gloss to add a little color to my lips. “Nice to pretend I’m a girl today.”
He grunted. “No pretend necessary.”
I peered over my compact. “Was that a hidden compliment?”
“You know you look good.”
“Right. With my choppy hair that looks like a toddler gave me a haircut, yellow bruises on my neck, and hacked up leg. I’m a stunner.” I snapped my compact shut then tucked both into my makeup bag.
He came a few steps into the room. “You’re healing.” He stopped in front of me, his leg brushing mine, those misty forest eyes assessing. He lifted a hand to my chin, tipping it up with his thumb. “You stay with me today. Pretend I’m yours.”
I frowned. My heart kicking at the thought. “What?”
He cleared his throat. “Pretend we’re together. I don’t want you more than an inch away from me today.”
My throat suddenly dry, I wasn’t sure what to say to that.
His hand moved from my chin to hold out for me to take it. “It’s easier to look like we’re a couple on the ferry.”
“You think that’s necessary?”
“Stone hasn’t had any other attacks that look like yours.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” I took his hand, and he helped me to my feet. I swayed a bit as the boat hit a wave. He gripped my hip to keep me from falling.
“I don’t know. I’d love if this was a one-off.”
I brushed his hand away and went around him. “I didn’t see him enough. Why the hell would he care about me?”
He grabbed my hand. “Two attempts in the hospital tells me he’s not so sure about that.”
“It’s been weeks.”
“And he might be obsessing.”
“Are you trying to scare me?” I pulled my hand away.
“Yes. I want you careful today.”
I’d been looking forward to getting off the boat, now I was tempted to tell him to take me back out to sea. It had been quiet and easy, even if he ignored me more than half the time.
Annoyed, I hobbled out into the hallway. I was walking on my own steam, but I stopped at the stairs. Stupid things ruined my angry huff.
He came up behind me and turned me around. “I don’t like scaring you.” His voice was low and husky. “I just want you aware.”
“Pretty sure you just landed on scaring me.”
He wound an arm around me boosted me into his arms. I gripped his shoulders, my chest far too close to his face. His eyes blazed up at me for a split second before his face took on that annoying blank look.
A part of me wanted to shove my boobs in his face to see if I could jar him into some sort of reaction to holding me, but I didn’t. Instead, I went more rigid in his arms than usual and my thigh throbbed in reaction.
I grit my teeth against the pain as we went up the four stairs. At the top, he let me slide down his body. Every muscle just as taught as my own. Finally, my feet found the wood floor in the main living space. He brushed by me and out the door to the outer deck.
I tipped my head back, annoyance and awareness duking it out in my system.
I followed him, albeit a little slower, and paused at the threshold of the deck. Locke was already gone, the deck empty. Suddenly the boat bounced as he thundered back down the stairs. “We’re clear. We have twenty minutes to the next ferry.”
Clear.
Like he was already looking for trouble.
My original excitement turned to dread. Locke was always intense, but this was different. I braced as he scooped me up and climbed the few stairs to the topside of the boat. He jumped neatly onto the dock and strode through the marina with me in his arms.
“What are you doing? People are staring.” I glanced around at the surprised faces. A few giving me jealous looks. What woman didn’t want a strong guy to carry her?
But he looked a bit more raggedy than me with that stupid beard, so a few people pulled out their phones.
He looked like he’d been on the sea for years. Or an extra on that old Tom Hanks movie where he’d been on an uninhabited island. But I found myself holding on more firmly.
He might look like a refugee, but he was mine.
Well, helping me.
Not mine.
And of course, being Locke, he didn’t bother to explain himself. He just kept on moving until there were signs for the ferry. He took a hard left and went around the crowd of people.
It was a weekday, but summer was in full swing. Tourists were going to the aquarium and walking around the harbor. There were also a ton of businesses in the area which made for even more foot traffic.
Locke’s stride was long, and his eyes were darting everywhere.
Suddenly he stopped. I gripped his shoulder and tried to figure out what he saw.
A man stood on the fringes of the crowd.
His thick hair was swept back to show off an angular, beautiful face.
His eyes were hidden behind mirrored shades much like Locke usually wore.
The man wore a bespoke suit in jet black with a crisp white shirt open at the neck.
He had his hands in his pockets and his body language said he was relaxed, but somehow I knew better.
He was athletic and had a body built for a suit.
“Can’t run forever, Jordan.” The man’s voice was cultured and deep.
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“Seems you had plenty to say to Nyx.” He took his sunglasses off and came forward with a smile. “You must be Priscilla.”
Locke tightened his hold on me.
“Yes. Should I know your name?”
“Sorry, I’m Leo Kendrick. Locke’s boss.”
My breath caught. I’d heard about Leo Kendrick, the head of The Kendrick Group, but he rarely showed his face. The occasional charity benefit, but for the most part he stayed in his tower. “Put me down, please.”
He glanced at me, his jaw ticking.
“Locke,” I pitched my voice low. “Please.”
He sighed and set me down, standing behind me, leaving no space between us. He put a firm hand on my hip to steady me. “What are you doing here, Leo?”
“You don’t talk to us for nearly a year, and you suddenly ask my sister for help? Color me intrigued.” He glanced at me, his gaze assessing. Not in a creepy way, but like he was cataloging everything about me.
“She’s faster and has access to more databases.”
“That she is.” He rocked back on his heels. “Be at the tower before you leave, Locke. That’s an order.”
Locke stiffened behind me. “I don’t answer to you right now, Leo.”
“Oh, you do. And you will. I have information you’ll want to know.” Leo gave him a genial smile. ”Don’t think of disappearing. This time I’ll hunt you down.” Then he suddenly turned and melted back into the crowd.
“Fuck.”
I turned. “That’s your boss?”
“One of them,” he muttered.
“Do you think he knows something about...my situation?”
“I’d say he knows everything. Bastard.”