Chapter 8
Bea
I’m stomping around the hotel room, wondering how my life has become such a mess, falling apart faster than I can blink.
Maeve is back, alive and happy. Really happy. And I should be happy for her too, but I can’t shake the feeling that she’s taking my life away again. Just like she did five years ago. It’s pathetic to think that way, but my heart feels betrayed in every way possible.
Marrying Ezra King was supposed to be my ticket out of here, and now that ticket has been taken away.
I’ve been dealing with this since yesterday when I found out that my supposed-to-be fiancé was going to marry my sister instead of me.
My initial reaction was shock and hurt, but the more I pace my room, the more I understand that he was never mine—just a deal to escape my parents’ gilded cage and their endless schemes.
If he was ever meant for me, I wouldn’t have had jelly legs every time Noah King opened his damn mouth to throw a new challenge my way.
And the more quips and jabs he threw at me yesterday and the more he called me little mouse, the more interest I felt.
Which doesn’t say a whole lot of good about me.
I’ve always been scared to go without my family’s money because I’ve never known another life, but I’ve come to realize over the past couple of days that no amount of money is worth the shit show I’m living in.
I’ve had this dream of running away one day, following Maeve’s footsteps.
But when she called back asking for help, coming back with her tail between her legs, it made me second-guess myself.
I don’t have any jewelry to sell because Mother keeps all the valuables in her room, including my valuables.
The only money I’ve got is what I’ve saved from my secret online job as a virtual assistant I’ve had since I was seventeen.
My grandmother’s Chanel bag is the most expensive thing in my possession, but I know I could never part with it.
Still, I can’t stay here anymore. I just can’t.
So I grab my suitcase and start shoving in whatever’s closest: the white sundress I was wearing when I fell into the pool with Noah, the pink sundress, all underwear and shirts, and everything else that fits.
My hands shake as I zip the suitcase with a loud rip in the empty room. I’m doing this alone—no pawns, no plans, just me.
I crack the door, peeking into the torchlit hall. Empty. I slip out with suitcase wheels hissing on the teak floor, my heart pounding like it’s trying to escape my ribcage. I take the stairs down into the dead lobby where the majority of the staff are gone.
I head for the side exit, my path away from the bungalows, away from Noah’s nosy ass, from Maeve and Ezra’s betrayal, from my parents’ suffocating control.
My flip-flops click softly with each step, carrying me toward my freedom, but my chest aches leaving Maeve.
I was mad at her yesterday, until I’d come to realize that she was actually doing me a favor.
The more I saw Ezra, the more I knew he was not for me, the one-year clause was meant to happen.
But Maeve seems to feel deeply for him, so she doesn’t need the clause.
It doesn’t matter how much they bicker and look broodily at each other, I see the fire behind their eyes.
The longing they have when they think the other is not looking. They were meant to be, not us.
Heavy footsteps thud behind me, making me jump. My breath catches with a spiking pulse.
“Where you headed, little mouse?” Noah’s low voice cuts through my self-forgiving meditation.
I spin, making the suitcase smack the wall, and glare at his smug face. He is leaning against a pillar with arms crossed over his annoyingly wide chest, a linen shirt hugging his frame, stretching over his shoulders. His hair, mussed by the night breeze, makes him look like a pirate.
“What’s it to you, caveman?” I snap in a shaky voice while stepping closer, close enough to feel his heat. “I’m leaving. Go back to your booze and your brother.”
He pushes off the pillar, closing the gap between us and bringing that cedar smell with him.
“You leaving? Alone? That’s dumb as shit,” he drawls in a mocking voice while his eyes scan me up and down. “You’ll get lost or worse, and I’m not going to look for you this time.”
My fingers grip the suitcase handle with so much force it turns my knuckles white.
“I don’t need you looking for me,” I fire back in a wobbling voice while stepping closer, our chests almost brushing.
“I’m done with this island, my parents, all of you.
Especially you.” I press my index finger into his chest. “Go play hero somewhere else.”
His eyes flash with surprise before they harden.
“Hero? I’m keeping you from getting snatched by some creep,” he growls in a rough voice while stepping into my space, his breath hot on my face.
“For your brother?” I ask mockingly, reminding him about all the times he brought my not-happening fiancé up.
He clearly doesn’t like the answer because his jaw clamps shut.
“Right.” I laugh. “You are saving me from a nonexistent creep, swooping in like a hero.” I push onto his chest. “Go away, caveman.” Another push. “I don’t want to see you.” Another. “I don’t want to know you.”
The next push doesn’t happen because he circles his hands around my wrists.
“Bea.” My name is a whisper on his lips. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” I lift my face to hiss into his. “Don’t feel what I feel? Don’t escape this shit show? Don’t save myself?”
“Don’t leave,” he swallows, “your family like this.”
My mouth falls open from such impudence. “My family.” My chuckle is dark. “My family?” My voice gains strength. “Or you?”
For a second, I expect him to man up and respond like the grown man he is.
But he doesn’t.
So I walk away.