Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
My thoughts come to a jarring, unexpected end, and I take a deep breath, feeling as if I’m tumbling off a cliff, frantically clinging to my hopes for safety, because that is what they are. Hopes.
When I first followed him into the night, making sure nothing happened to him during the flight from the gala, my goals were simple—to make sure he didn’t suffer any negative consequences of freeing me, and the rest of the fucking world, from that crooked reptile Sullivan. When did it become more than that?
When did I start assuming Eli would follow my lead and want to retire with me? It’s not fair to just project that onto him, when he ought to choose his own destiny once we’re both safe.
I feel so selfish when he smiles at me and finally pulls away. “Okay. Wait, I’ll take a photo so you can see if it’s acceptable.”
But even as he shows me the picture, I struggle to look at the screen, because I want to see him instead. He thinks I’m his savior, but he’s the one who’s saved me. Again.
I pull him close and press my lips to his forehead while my heart gallops, trying to absorb the ink.
Everything inside me longs to be close to Eli, to fall asleep with my head in his lap and fiercely protect him from anyone who dares come too close, but I shouldn’t be selfish.
He took off my chains, and making sure he knows he’s free to leave is the least I can do.
Chapter 21
Eli
Getting on board is nerve-wracking. Cesar has bribed someone to turn a blind eye to our presence on the ship, so technically we are not even registered as passengers. By the time we step onto the deck under the watchful eye of the seaman who looks as if he could hunt down a whale with a harpoon on his own, I’m too frazzled with stress to be afraid.
The man’s beard is a pure white shade, just like the snow we are leaving behind in the glow of the artificial lights. It’s around four in the morning, and bitterly cold, but if this plan pans out, I might really have gotten away with murder.
While the ship is primarily transporting cargo, we’re not the only passengers. I’ve already spotted a couple with Go-Pros documenting it as an “adventure”, and they aren’t alone. Due to there being a very limited amount of cabins, most of the passengers will be setting up tents or sleeping on yoga mats in lounge areas, but my man can afford paying the premium for privacy. Still, as we walk along the railing and watch the massive port that could have been its own city, I’m eager to enjoy the fresh air for as long as possible, because I doubt we’ll be socializing much while onboard.
I’ve got my cloth mask on, which is nice, because it keeps my face warm in the chilly wind. Both Cesar and I lean over the railing to watch the land disappear from a secluded spot so no one bothers us. I was so happy to help him with the tattoo issue. It felt like a special moment between us, like I was the only one who could save him from the trauma inflicted by Sullivan’s brainwashing.
But now he’s silent and distant again. Which makes me babble out of nerves.
“Did you visit the house we’re going to often? Did you furnish it yourself? Or is it a bare bones situation?”
Cesar, who’s been watching the lights on the shore, glances my way and clears his throat. “I’ve been there once. I used to rent it out to people, so it’s furnished, but… well, redecoration is always a possibility,” he says and offers me a flat smile. “We’re off.”
“Are you excited to retire? Or afraid you won’t know what to do with your time?” I try and poke his hand with a gloved finger. The wind is so intense it would be hard to talk if we didn’t stand so close. He swallows, and every second of silence shifts me closer to the edge of panic, because what is happening right now? Is he worried that this whole thing was a mistake? That I am a wedge in his plans for a peaceful life on his own?
Have I been too much again?
He clears his throat and speaks. “It still doesn’t feel real. I wanted this for so long, I was angry when Sullivan delayed it, but I think deep down I didn’t believe it could happen.”
A sudden gust of wind swipes up my forehead and snatches my hat. We both bend over the railing to grab it, but it’s too late. It’s gone in the waves in seconds. I groan, because now my hair flaps about everywhere. We’ll probably soon go to our cabin, but I don’t want to leave this conversation unfinished.