Maverick
Present Day
I’m so fucked.
The more time I spend with Delilah, the more I like her. But pursuing any kind of relationship—or even friendship—with her would be foolish. She’s been through so much, and I would have to be a complete ass to take advantage of her fragile emotional state.
Not only do I find myself caring for her, but I definitely heard her moan my name last night.
I spent all night staring up at the stars—a place that would normally bring me great comfort—tossing and turning restlessly while trying to ignore my throbbing dick.
I refused to let my hand relieve the pressure in my balls, not when I knew my thoughts would be of the one woman who doesn’t deserve any more objectification.
Hence, the wood chopping. It’s always been one of my tried-and-true stress relievers, but today it did absolutely nothing to help me decompress.
I shake my head to clear my thoughts. I have a lot to do today, including picking up my dad from across the border.
It’s been a few months since his last visit, and we need to replenish our dwindling supplies, especially now that we’ve moved islands again.
I need to check in with Bec before I leave since she’ll be in charge while I’m gone, and we always meet at the boat to say goodbye.
Unfortunately for me, my path gets blocked on my way there by a familiar face.
“I need to talk to you.” Sam crosses her arms and sticks out her hip, the bruise around her eye shades of dark purple and sickly yellow.
I exhale, forcing myself to find the patience with her that I would anyone else. “What is it, Samantha?”
“Don’t Samantha me,” she sneers. “I think we’re both past the point of formalities, don’t you?”
I give her a tight-lipped smile. “What do you need?”
She laughs humorlessly. “Oh, I need a lot of things, the first of which being that Brotherhood bitch back where she belongs.”
My jaw clenches involuntarily, but I have to remain calm here. Sam’s extremely perceptive. If she catches even a whiff of my feelings for Delilah, she’ll accuse me of disloyalty. “Mrs. Sinclair will be here for the foreseeable future. I suggest you make peace with her presence in your life.”
Sam steps into my space. “Her being here puts us all in danger. How many more times will we have to move to protect her?”
“The safety of everyone here is my top priority. Always has been. Always will be.”
“I’m not the only one who feels this way, Maverick.” Her tone is softer now as she reaches for my arm.
I try not to shrug her off, but her touch puts me on edge. In New Athens, she learned to use body as a manipulation tactic, and even now, her touch is never arbitrary. “I’m always open to discussing legitimate concerns with the camp. Our next meeting is in a few days.”
Sam scoffs and removes her hand from my arm. “Will you even be there?”
My usually unceasing patience is wearing thin. “If you have something to say, just say it.”
“You’re always with her!” Sam shouts, pointing a finger toward my tent. “Doting on her every need, attending to her every whim.”
“Delilah’s adjusting,” I argue. “I’m just trying to make her feel welcome here.”
“Oh, so she’s Delilah to you now?”
I step around her. “I don’t have time for this.”
“She’s dangerous, Maverick!” Sam calls after me. “Are you really prepared to let everything you’ve built here go to waste for one woman?”
I don’t stop, but Sam’s words ring in my ears with every step.
Have I been neglecting my other responsibilities to spend time with Delilah?
My mind reels, thinking through the last few days.
If I’m really honest with myself, the answer is probably yes.
But for whatever reason—even if she decides to go back—I don’t want her to think of me, to think of this place, and have nothing but negative memories.
When I get to the shoreline, Bec is waiting near the small boat we use for supply runs. She hands me the satellite phone with a raised brow. “You good?”
I shake my head. “Fine.”
The look she gives me makes it clear she doesn’t believe me. “The wood you were chopping this morning might say otherwise.”
I close my eyes briefly, forcing my shoulders to relax. “Sam stopped me on my way here.”
Bec sighs. “Of course she did.”
“She thinks I’m spending too much time with D”—I clear my throat—“with Mrs. Sinclair.”
Bec rolls her eyes. “You and Della are both adults. What you do with your time, or who you spend it with, is none of Sam’s business.”
My brows pull together. “Della?”
Bec smiles proudly. “She’s loosening up, huh? I might even like her.”
I might like her too, I think. “Anything I need to know before I leave?”
My number two reaches up and pats my cheek, a little harder than necessary. “Go. We’ll be fine.”
I bite my tongue, knowing anything else that would come out of my mouth would simply be stalling.
I hop in the boat and start the engine. Bec gives it a small push, then offers me a mock salute, which I return.
This newfound hesitancy to leave the camp is fucking with my head; I’m probably just tired after the craziness of the last few days.
I spend the hour-long ride through the water trying—and failing—to think of anything but the woman who’s currently lying in my bed, until I make it to the abandoned port we’ve used for supply runs for the last several years.
My father lifts his hand in greeting, and I immediately feel lighter.
His presence is grounding, always somehow easing the heaviness of my burdens.
We’ve done this enough times by now that he starts tossing bags to me without any direction. “Hey, son.”
“Hey, Dad.”
Legally, as soon as I pass into Canadian waters, I’m supposed to report my presence to the government.
Technically, however, if I don’t disembark and my feet don’t touch solid ground, I don’t have to call.
So I keep my feet in the boat and organize the supplies, everything from basic toiletries, to camp supplies, to food, to electronic devices.
I extend my hand and hoist my father up. He pulls me into a hug, slapping me on the back a few times. “How ya doin’, kid?”
We both find our seats among the supplies and I shrug, steering the boat back toward our new island. “How’s Susan?”
We both know I’m dodging his question, but he doesn’t push it for now. “She’s good. She got her book club to knit some scarves and hats for the camp.”
“That was nice of her,” I say, and I mean it.
My father remarried a few years ago, and Susan’s good for him.
He was only fifty when Mom passed away, and for a while I think we both assumed he’d just stay single.
He met Susan—who was newly widowed at the time—at a local farmer’s market and they bonded over their mutual love of gardening and the fact that they’d both lost spouses.
I haven’t spent much time with her, but I know my father loves her, and since I can’t be with him, I like knowing he has someone to share his life with.
The engine hums, and I watch my father look out over the open water. “Your mom always loved being out on the boat.”
I smile at the memories of our summers spent on the lake. Water skiing, tubing, wakeboarding, countless hours in the sun until we were all sunburned and sore. “Yeah, she did.”
My father turns to me, crossing his arms to keep out the biting wind. “I saw the strangest thing on the news the other day.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask casually, even as dread knots my stomach.
The news has always been unreliable, but after the Reckoning, it became downright fraudulent.
In Canada, it’s not the outright propaganda that the Brotherhood spews, but it’s not much better.
As much as they like to claim objectivity, someone somewhere is always biased.
“It was your old friend Gabe.” My dad watches me to gauge my reaction.
Fuck. My father is well-aware of the falling out we had a dozen years ago, but I have no idea if he truly grasps who Gabriel is now. “What did he say?”
“The Brotherhood is putting out an official reward for any information regarding the capture of his wife. They showed some security footage of a man carrying her over his shoulder at some fancy black-tie event a few days ago in New Athens.”
“Hmm,” I hum noncommittally, avoiding his gaze.
“Maverick.” My father’s tone is gentle but firm. Always has been. I can’t remember a single time he ever raised his voice at me as a child.
I finally meet his gaze with a sigh. “I’m working on it.”
His gaze is steady. “Tell me what happened.”
Everything that’s transpired over the last few days spews out of me.
I make sure to explain things in the most neutral tone I can muster, giving him all of the information while somehow managing to leave my complicated, growing feelings for Delilah out of it.
By the time I get him caught up to now, his brows are drawn together contemplatively.
“Does she want to go back to New Athens? To Gabriel?”
“She says she does, but we haven’t made any concrete plans to make that happen.”
“Maverick, the Brotherhood isn’t just offering a reward for information about her whereabouts. They’re also offering a bounty for anyone who can locate and turn you in.”
I breathe out slowly to keep my cool. “Of course they are.”
“They called you a domestic terrorist, a threat to national security. Are you sure they weren’t able to track you to the new island?” My father’s looking at me with so much concern I’m afraid he’ll give himself heart palpitations.
I nod. “Benji will know if they find us again.”
He looks relatively reassured, but I can tell he’s still nervous. “Why would they send out a public message asking for information when they know exactly who has her?”
I shrug. “Maybe they’re trying to appeal to the hearts of the public, playing the victim to garner sympathy even though they’re the true monsters.”
“Can you trust everyone in your camp?”
My thoughts return to my conversation with Sam before I left, but even she wouldn’t stoop so low. Arcadia is her home, the camp is her family, regardless of how our relationship ended. “No one in camp would even know about the reward, Dad. I didn’t even know about it.”
He nods, then slaps both hands down on his thighs. “Well, I would very much like to meet this young woman.”
“Sure, Dad,” I say, though my voice sounds tight even to my own ears. The idea of my father meeting Delilah makes me nervous, but I can’t exactly pinpoint why.
My dad gives me a coy smile. “You like her.”
“I…” I struggle to find the right words before finally settling on, “It’s complicated.”
He waves me off. “How complicated can it be? Either you like her or you don’t.”
I shake my head, frustration mounting. “She’s been through a lot. I would have to be an asshole to try and pursue anything with her right now.”
“Liking a woman doesn’t make you an asshole, Maverick.” He reaches out and places his hand on my knee. “You’re nothing like them.”
I close my eyes briefly, letting his words flow over me. I had no idea how much I needed to hear that. “It doesn’t matter. She very much does not like me.”
My father laughs. “I very much doubt that.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to hide my smile. “How long are you staying?”
“Just a day, if that works for you.”
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
“It’s just… Susan worries,” he says.
“You don’t have to explain, Dad. It’s all right.”
We sit in amiable silence until the island comes into view where a small group of people are waiting on the shoreline. My eyes scan the faces, unable to ignore the deep disappointment I feel when I realize Delilah isn’t among them.
Bec waves frantically, a huge smile on her face as I jump out of the boat into the water and help my dad over. The small crew of people immediately starts unloading the supplies while Bec hugs my dad tightly around the middle.
“Hey, Papa Joe.”
“Hey, kiddo. How ya doin’?” My dad pats her on the back, a genuine smile on his face.
They chat and catch up as we grab a few bags each and walk back to camp to unload the goods. Once we’re at the Hub, my eyes continue to search for the woman who haunts my mind every waking moment, but I still don’t see her anywhere.
“Where is she?” I ask Bec, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.
Bec shrugs. “Haven’t seen her all morning.”
I clench my jaw to keep from snapping at my closest friend and set off toward my tent, dropping the bags I was carrying unceremoniously at my feet with a thump. The anxiety I feel is all-consuming as I navigate the dense forest. What if something happened to her?
I see V near her tent, not even bothering to stop as I ask, “Have you seen Mrs. Sinclair?”
The doctor’s brows furrow. “Not since this morning.”
I continue stalking away, ignoring V as she calls after me.
Finally, I make it to my tent, bursting through the closure as my chest heaves and my heart beats wildly in my chest. I stop short when I see her right where I left her, asleep in my bed.
Zeus is curled up on the floor beside her, like he was watching out for her while I was gone.
I close my eyes and exhale, relieved far beyond what’s normal.
I take a few steps toward her, studying her face in her sleep.
God, she’s beautiful. Even with her curls sticking out at wild angles and her mouth slightly parted, she’s stunning. I have the strangest temptation to count all the freckles dotting her nose and cheeks, and my feet move toward the bed before my mind can catch up.
I squat down and reach a hand toward her, brushing my fingertips down the side of her cheek gently. She sighs and nuzzles into my touch, but I convince myself not to read into it. She’s asleep, for fuck’s sake.
“Mrs. Sinclair,” I say quietly. The last thing I want to do is startle her.
Her eyelids flutter open, and I watch as her expression morphs from one of confusion to one of familiarity. She looks around before stretching, reaching her arms above her head in a feline manner. “I’m sorry. I must have fallen asleep.”
I realize my thumb is still stroking her cheek and remove my hand as casually as possible, clearing my throat. “Don’t apologize. Your body needed rest.”
She nods, sitting up. “What time is it?”
I check my watch. “A little after noon. How are you feeling?”
“Better. Thank you.” She wraps her arms around her lower stomach, and I get the sense she’s still in pain.
“I have someone who would like to meet you, if you’re feeling up for it.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Someone wants to meet me?”
I stand and extend my hand toward her. “I apologize in advance for any jokes you’re forced to laugh at.”
She takes my hand and I pull her to her feet, and even once she’s standing, our palms linger until she seems to realize we’re still touching. She crosses her arms once again and gives me a weak smile. “Color me intrigued.”