Chapter 10
Paradise
Isaac
The air conditioning was cranked to the highest setting, blasting frigid air into the cab of the truck, and my palms were still sweating.
One day until the full moon.
Until Tara walked out of Port O’Henry.
I raked rough fingers over the skin on my arm. It kept prickling, itching in a way I knew wouldn’t be soothed by anything but fresh air. Open sky. Stars above me and moonlight in my eyes.
That wasn’t the truth. There was one more thing that could soothe it, but I was too afraid to name it.
One day until the full moon, which meant three weeks had passed without me noticing. Three weeks without speaking to Eli. Without checking whether Saul had walked the perimeter of my property dozens of times. Three weeks and I’d barely sat at my desk.
And when I did, I watched the light flash on my old-fashioned answering machine. Forgot to return important calls.
It all felt meaningless. So far away from what was happening inside me.
A thread of fear wove around my heart, pulling tight with every beat of my pulse. The beast was fixated in a way that I couldn’t allow. A predator watching his prey from the shadows of my eyes. Waiting.
Waiting for what? I couldn’t figure it out.
I should have gone back to the bayou. Told Eli what I was afraid of—that I was finally on the cusp of madness. A fate Saul was always anticipating for us—all of us.
When I slept, it was on the couch in my office, and it was fitful. I would wake in a sweat, standing in the entryway with my hand on the door. A few nights, I had even made it past the parking lot, wandering barefoot over the asphalt toward the southeast corner of Port O’Henry.
Familiar territory. Close to the bayou. Where I purchased my first properties.
Where Tara slept, unaware.
Guilt joined my fear with a heavy thrum. I was dangerous to her. What should have been nothing…wasn’t staying that way.
My fingers drummed on the steering wheel as I slowed to pull beneath her house.
And yet…here I was again.
Relieving the tension under my skin. Giving the beast a sliver of what he wanted in exchange for a few moments of peace.
I was breaking every rule we had ever made. If Saul found out—when Saul found out—there would be hell to pay.
It couldn’t be any worse than the hell I was experiencing now. As if the moon was already overhead, turning me inside out. Twisting me into the monster beneath my skin.
I should have taken the bike. I could ride off right now, taking the highway at three times the speed limit and burning off some of this—this—
Hunger.
It wouldn’t work. It hadn’t for a long time. My nights were getting worse. Bar fights getting meaner. My pursuit of women more frustrated and impersonal. The hollow in me kept growing until I felt like I should have my own gravitational pull. A black hole swallowing up everything around me.
I took the stairs toward Tara’s front door two at a time.
No matter how many times I knocked on her door, she was surprised to see me. Blue eyes wide, blonde hair still matted and soft from sleep.
I knew I was a selfish asshole. We both did. For some reason, she kept opening that door for me.
“You’re late,” she said, leaning in the doorway with her usual cup of coffee in hand. There was ugly flounder artwork on the side of the mug, reminding me of our morning on the jetty yesterday.
I still hadn’t figured out why I brought her there. Tara was not the outdoorsy type. She would hate my life. Hate the bayou, and the mosquitos, and the trips out on the boat that Eli made me take at least once a month.
But she came anyway.
Stayed all afternoon, wrinkling her nose every time I put fresh bait on her hook.
“Late night?” she asked, the subtle curve of her smile fading as she studied the dark rings under my eyes.
It was only fair for her to think so low of me. To imagine the first thing I did after dropping her off that afternoon without so much as a kiss at the door was find the nearest bar and look for company. That was all that used to matter when the workday was over.
I couldn’t explain to her that it was a tactic for survival. That throwing myself at the most willing woman was the only way to keep me from crawling out of my own skin, emerging as the product of nightmares.
I shifted on my feet. “More like rough night.”
Tara took a long, slow sip from her mug. She didn’t look at me when she said, “She was that bad, huh? Or maybe that good.”
“If by she you mean the couch in my office, then yes.” I pushed past her, dismissing her distasteful tone and heading for the kitchen.
The coffee maker was full, and there was already a second mug sitting on the counter. She was expecting me, and it wasn’t just for sex.
At least, not only for sex.
I took my time with my coffee, stirring sugar in gentle circles. Tara chewed the inside of her cheek, watching me silently.
Finally, she asked, “Why were you sleeping in your office?”
Because I can’t stand to go home.
Because I didn’t trust the beast on the bayou.
Because it made me feel like my skin was on fire the last time I tried to leave town.
“Had to catch up on work. Speaking of, get dressed.”
“What am I dressing for today?”
“Work. Wear whatever you want.” I reached out for her before she made it to the bedroom, unable to stop myself from lifting a strand of her hair to my face to inhale. “Pick sensible shoes.”
“Sensible shoes?” She was watching my fingers glide through her hair, only half listening to my words.
“No heels.”
“So, we’re not having any fun, then,” she muttered, walking away from me and leaving the bedroom door ajar.
She was daring me to follow her. She was also trying to keep it simple. Quick. Disposable.
My lungs were filled for the first time since yesterday. I stayed where I was, breathing deeply.
“Do I get a hint?” Tara leaned out of the doorway, clutching a white blouse to her bare chest. Her teeth left indentations in her bottom lip, eyes filled with false innocence.
I took a sip of coffee, face impassive. “I told you, it’s work.”
“Am I getting paid?”
“My company is payment enough.” I set my mug in the sink, prowling to the bedroom door and sliding the blouse from her grip.
Tara stepped back. Her pulse pounding, pupils dilated, shoulders back to display every naked inch of her.
I took her by the hips, turning her so fast her palms landed on the unmade bed. “This is a cute game you’re playing, but I think you forgot who you’re dealing with.”
“And who am I dealing with?”
A growl tried to tear from my chest, and I took two sharp steps backward.
“An impatient man,” I muttered, leaving the bedroom and closing the door before she saw the pale glow of moonlight in my eyes.
This was it. The last time. It had to be. Otherwise, I didn’t know what I might do. What he might do.
The draw of the full moon was getting stronger, and the beast was getting stronger with it. Until it was high overhead and he could take his true form, he would be dangerous. Violent.
I couldn’t expose Tara to that. It wasn’t fair.
Then why the hell was I doing this right now?
The answer was there, just out of reach, as I opened the door to my truck. Tara climbed in, getting comfortable while I made my way to the driver’s side.
She talked as we drove down Adam Street and crossed to Washington Boulevard. Quiet, unnecessary words about the weather, the dream she had the night before, the Port O’Henry T-shirt she bought at an outrageous price from the Stop N’ Shop.
I tried to listen, but my palms were sweating again. The truck motor was too loud. A familiar pressure was building at the base of my neck, making my shoulders tense.
I had the sudden feeling that the stakes had shifted—and I was on the edge of a mistake I wouldn’t come back from.
Swallowing down another growl, I turned off the road onto a concrete lot.
Tara hesitated in the passenger seat when I got out, frowning at the weeds growing through cracks in the concrete.
“There was a gas station here before the last hurricane.” I tapped my boot on a metal tank cover to demonstrate. “This property sat on the market for two years. I kept making an offer, and the previous owner kept turning me down. He didn’t know who he was dealing with, either.”
“An impatient man?” she asked, arching a brow.
I smiled darkly. “Actually, I can be incredibly patient when I want something.”
Tara crossed her arms. “And why did you want this old slab of concrete?”
“Look around,” I instructed. “What do you see?”
She glanced left and right. “Concrete and asphalt and grass that needs mowing.”
“Wrong.” I came up behind her, tilting her chin to the right and pointing up.
“That’s Main Street. It leads directly to the highway.
One way in, one way out. Over there,” I pointed again, “is the Stop N’ Shop.
One of only two gas stations and the closest to a grocery store you’ll get for twenty-two miles. ”
“I still don’t get it.”
“You’re standing on a goldmine right now. By this time next year, this lot will be a shiny new retail center.”
Tara scanned the lot with a fresh sense of curiosity. “Oh my gosh, are you…smart?”
I gave her ass a playful smack, guiding her back toward the truck, “Don’t act so surprised.”
She climbed back into the passenger seat, head turned to assess me. “You actually know this real estate stuff.”
“I’ve been at it a long time.”
“Sometimes you make it sound like you’re so old.”
“I’m older than I look.”
She laughed. “Should I guess the year you were born?”
“I promise, you won’t get it right.”
I twisted the key in the ignition, keeping my voice casual as I said, “These are the things you start noticing when you do this for a living.”
Tara went quiet, considering my words on the way to the next location. This property was purchased with less strategy and more sentimentality. It bordered the bayou, further away from the beach and closer to the old cemetery.