“I guess that depends if Penny stays or goes. If she remains in Greece I assume lover boy—” he jerks his chin at me “—and big brother will want to keep hovering close. That leaves me to do the heavy lifting, because don’t forget that asshole who got away could be planning any number of things.”
I clench my teeth, biting back a reply to his “lover boy” comment that will only strengthen his derisive argument.
“It’s the best option,” Decker grates. “Hunt can go back and—”
He stops mid-sentence at the sound of crunching pebbles behind him. It’s Penny, her fragile frame coming to stand a few feet away.
“I heard my name.” She inches closer. “What’s going on?”
Hunt clears his throat. Decker glances off in the distance while rubbing the back of his neck. Both of them act as if they didn’t hear her question, making it fucking clear they expect me to be the bearer of temperamental news.
“Fuck you,” I mutter under my breath, then walk to stand in front of her. “We’re changing things up a little. It’s for the best if we get your friends on a jet and send them home right away.”
“What do you mean right away?”
“He means now. From here, to a boat, to the airport.” Hunt speaks up. “You need to decide if you’re staying or going.”
Her eyes flare in shock, those dark depths cutting me down at the knees. “Without going back to the island to collect Tobias?”
“Yes.” I nod. “Torian has already organized the jet.”
Her lips part and her already pale skin turns ashen. “Then I’m staying. I won’t leave Toby behind.”
Decker winces. “You’d be safer—”
“I don’t care what’s safe. I’m not leaving without him. He’s just a little boy.”
“And what about your friends?” I ask. “You’re happy for them to go without you.”
“No, Luca, I’m not happy,” she scolds. “But you’ve given me no choice.”
A tense second of silence falls between us.
I don’t want to do this to her. It’s not fucking ideal. But those eyes hold me accountable. The glimmer of betrayal cuts me to the core.
“Okay, if that’s settled, we need to make a move.” Hunter starts for the other women. “Say your goodbyes.”
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter. “Have some fucking sympathy.”
“Wait up.” Decker follows after him. “I need to tell you where I hid the car.”
They leave me alone with her pained judgment. Penny continues to stare back at me, her exhausted sorrow forever tattooing my mind.
“You’re really doing this?” Her nose wrinkles as if she’s trying to dislodge the tingle of building tears. “They’re not strong enough to go without me.”
“You don’t need to mother them anymore.” It’s obvious Penny has been their rock. She was the one they turned to with questions of my sincerity. The three others took a step back at every opportunity when Penny rushed forward to save them. “Hunter can take care of it. He’ll make sure they arrive in the States safely.”
“They won’t like that.”
“Then convince them. Or go with them. It’s your choice.”
Penny’s eyes remain hardened, but the severity loses its edge. She’s exhausted. Bone-deep. “I can’t leave Tobias with those people. Not when I know what they’re capable of.”
“Then, like Hunt said, say your goodbyes.” I try my fucking hardest not to let her vulnerability wear me down. “You’ll see them again soon enough.”
She sighs, the breath of defeat punishingly brittle before she returns to her friends. She talks in a low murmur, her undecipherable words causing the women to erupt in more tears, their arms wrapping around her as they sob against her shoulders.
She clings to them, her fingers white-knuckled, but still she doesn’t break. There’re only strong eyes that hold mine as if begging for this new form of torture to stop.
She’s been through murder, death, reunion, salvation, and now a farewell all in one day, and she hasn’t shed a single tear. Not one. Any sane, full-grown man would have blubbered through the experience.
“Come on.” I start for the car. “I need to get the fuck out of here.”
12
Penny
I walk on numb feet from the car to the start of the Naxos port, Luca at my side as he carries the duffels while Sebastian is up ahead, his arm wrapped around the guard who stumbles along at his side.
They gave him something. Ecstasy or speed maybe. I don’t know. But the effects make the man appear drunk. He’s swaying, not protesting as my brother slurs out a rendition of “Fifty-Five Bottles of Beer on the Wall” to increase the ruse that we’re not taking one of Luther’s men as a prisoner.
Yet all I see is Chloe.
I stagger along the pier, each blink punishing me with a snapshot of her suffering.
I climb into the boat as guilt consumes me, the fact I’m alive while she’s dead is so bitterly unfair.
And when I take a seat on the cushioned bench and stare at Otis, who Sebastian shoves to the floor, all I want to do is make the guard pay.
I need his dried blood under my nails, not Chloe’s.
I yearn to see the fear of death in his eyes, just like I had to witness in hers.
I crave the euphoria of hurting him, punishing him, torturing him. Because that’s what they did to her.
To all of us.
His future suffering is what I focus on as my brother starts the boat and guides us from the port. But Otis doesn’t suffer. He’s not even scared. Whatever they gave him has plastered a delirious smile on his face, the expression pure evil.
I can’t stand it.
Chloe is gone—left on the cold floor in a pool of her own blood, her soul forever trapped in that godforsaken house—and this man is blissed out.
It makes me sick.
I drag my gaze away and turn to the water, wishing the excruciatingly slow journey would pass faster. The minutes tick by like hours, the muted chuckle from the maniac on the floor a constant grate on my ears.
“You’re dead, pretty Penny. They’re going to eat you alive.”
I ache at his words. Shiver. It isn’t from fear, though. It’s from suffocating anger. Every emotion bottled inside me has been increased tenfold—the grief, resentment, hatred, heartache and sorrow. I need to make it stop, I just don’t know how.
“You’re going to wish you never defied Luther,” he slurs. “They’re going to make you pay.”
I close my eyes and pray for calm.
“You’ll beg for death.”
I swing around and lean toward him, inching closer, resting my elbows on my knees. “And who, exactly, is going to do all this to me?”
He beams a bright smile, his eyes lazily blinking. “Robert. You know Luther promised you to him. And the things he’s going to do to you…” He laughs and flops onto his back, gyrating his hips to the night sky. “You will probably love it. Just like you loved everything Luther put you through.”