18. It’s Unfortunate That I Can’t Keep Her Here Forever
18
IT’S UNFORTUNATE THAT I CAN’T KEEP HER HERE FOREVER
EZRA
I can’t help but feel a strange sense of relief. The air between us is lighter than it’s been in days, the tension dissipating as we finish our breakfast. Kruz’s cooking has a way of grounding me, pulling me back to something simple and familiar in a world that’s anything but.
When the silence stretches, I finally glance at her. She’s watching me, her gaze quiet, measuring. Maybe she doesn’t know it yet, but I can feel the change in the air. The way she looks at me, the way she softens in my presence—it’s different than before. And it’s unsettling because the last thing I want is for her to get too close. Yet.
I have to make sure everything works out the way I plan for it to first.
Her safety is my top priority.
Regardless of how I feel, there are things happening that are out of my control. If those things happen to go south, it will be even more dangerous for her to be close to me than it was before once we are back on the mainland.
It’s unfortunate that I can’t keep her here forever.
But I can’t deny what’s happening between us.
There’s nothing sweeter than the sound of her surrender.
Nothing more addicting than the way she melts when I show her exactly who she belongs to.
If I thought I was fucked before, it’s nothing compared to how I feel about her now that I’ve had this time with her, just the two of us. Even if part of that time was spent sleeping with one eye open in fear that she’d ball up her wool socks and shove them down my throat while I snored.
“Thank you,” I murmur, my voice a little rougher than I expect. The words feel oddly out of place, but I mean them.
She tilts her head, seeming to understand what I mean. “You’re welcome.”
I stand, pushing my chair back. “I’ll take care of the boat stuff,” I say, keeping my tone casual. The last thing I want is for her to see the bodies. There’s no reason for her to witness that kind of thing.
She doesn’t argue, just nods quietly. I’m relieved.
I’ve waited too long as it is, but I have the best excuse and my cock jumps when I think about last night.
Not only does my cock jump, my heart does too.
Because this is more than just fucking now, isn’t it?
It always has been for me, but I suspect the same for her now too.
I head out of the cottage, letting the door close softly behind me. The wind is still brisk, the air cold against my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the storm we just survived. The ocean seems quieter now, almost eerily still, though I know it’s only temporary. The waves are never calm for long.
I make my way down to the shore, where the boat sits just above the waterline, the hull cracked and battered from the impact with the rocks. The bodies are still on board, motionless, silent.
I need to get rid of the evidence. It feels more urgent now that I have left things as they currently are for so many hours.
The boat’s too far out for me to just drag it back in, and the bodies—well, they’re better off left to the ocean. The last thing I want is for anyone to come looking for these two idiots. Which, I am sure they will. But if I can make it seem like the island is still mostly deserted to any passersby, maybe we’ll be able to move on without too much attention.
But the drugs—those are a different story.
I don’t want the ocean tainted by whatever the hell these people were transporting. I don’t want to risk the fish, the wildlife, anything.
I imagine a coked-up blowfish and chuckle to myself.
Then I set to work. I damage the hull further, making sure it’ll be unstable enough to sink once it’s pushed out into deeper water. I don’t care what happens to the boat. I don’t care about the wreckage or the twisted metal. All I care about is making sure it disappears without a trace.
I shove the boat into the water, the wood scraping against the sand and rocks. It takes more effort than I expect, but eventually, it’s far enough out that I can let it drift. The tide will take care of the rest.
The bodies stay in the boat, drifting away as I push it into the deeper water. The waves take them, pulling them out of sight, out of mind.
I don’t watch them for long. I don’t need to. The ocean’s a cruel thing, but it’s also efficient. The bodies will be gone soon enough.
I turn away, walking back toward the lighthouse. The drugs are a problem, though, and I need to deal with the rest of them.
I stash them in the unused part of the lighthouse. I’ll have to figure out what to do with them later. For now, the only thing I can do is hide them out of sight.
I pause for a moment. The boat’s gone, the bodies are gone, but the damage is done.
I can’t afford for things to spiral out of control, not now.
I just need to keep my head down and focus on keeping Kruz safe. I’ve got enough trouble on my hands without adding to it.