“I know you won’t talk to me until the sun sets, but you should make an exception today,” Liesel puts one hand on her hip while the other lifts her oversized mug to her lips, as she stands in front of me.
I shake my head and then press my fingers against my forehead, trying to relieve the pressure from my pounding headache.
“You know what would fix your migraine? Talking to me,” Liesel says.
Ignore her.
I keep my eyes closed, hoping she’ll go away if I don’t give her any attention.
“Really? You think ignoring me is going to work? We aren’t kids anymore, Langston! This isn’t a game. You can’t just ignore me. You can’t just do what you did last night and not talk to me.”
Fuck.
I run my hand through my hair.
I don’t want to talk about last night.
I don’t want to think about last night.
Last night was one giant mistake.
Liesel steps closer to me, and I finally look at her.
She’s right.
I should talk to her.
A buzz in my pocket brings me out from under her spell. I pull out my cell phone.
“Yes?” I answer without looking at who’s calling me. I’m just thankful that someone is before I made another mistake.
“Siren’s missing,” Zeke says.
My heart stops. “What do you mean she’s missing?”
Zeke has been my best friend for years. Siren, his wife, has a connection to my soul.
“I mean she was supposed to pick up Cayden from daycare, and she never showed up. I think someone kidnapped her.”
Rage consumes me, and I welcome it. As much as I hate to admit it, I’d rather be dealing with Zeke’s crisis than my own.
“I’ll be there soon. We’ll find her.”
“Hurry,” Zeke says.
I hang up and start marching inside, my shoulder brushes Liesel’s as I pass, but I can’t think about anything except getting back to Miami and finding Siren.
“Langston!” Liesel yells, following me inside.
I keep walking. Ren, I’m coming.
“Langston Pearce! Talk to me right now!”
I stop. I turn and look at her. “I don’t have time for you to throw a tantrum right now, Liesel.”
“I’m not throwing a tantrum. Just talk to me.”
“Fine. Someone I love is in danger. And as you’ve pointed out, I have a habit of not being there for people when they need it. I’m not going to let her down.”
Liesel’s shoulders drop. Her lips curve into an O. Her breathing slows.
“Joel!” I yell.
He pops his head out of his room.
“You’re on security, Joel. Make sure everyone is safe.”
He nods.
“Amelia, you’re in charge of the house.”
She salutes me. “Yes, Captain.”
I shake my head. Usually, I like her teasing. Not right now.
Amelia steps back, noticing my change in mood.
I jog over to the locked part of the house. I unlock and open the dividing door. “Phoenix,” I holler.
She steps forward out of her bedroom, still wearing a robe.
“Yes?”
I glance back to Liesel.
“Phoenix, you’re in charge of Liesel.”
Liesel’s eyebrows draw up.
I glance to Phoenix, and she nods solemnly.
Then I lock the door again and pull my phone out. I start making calls to arrange for a flight, walking around the house with Liesel on my heels.
“How are you going to fly somewhere when you killed the pilot?” Liesel hollers.
“You killed Ken?” Joel asks.
I growl at him.
Joel moves out of my way and doesn’t ask any other dumb questions.
Liesel, on the other hand, continues to run after me as I head to my car.
I unlock my Range Rover and open the door.
Liesel is there to grab the door before I climb inside.
“You didn’t kill the pilot, did you?”
I don’t answer her.
“You’re a piece of work. You just did that to scare me.”
She takes a step back.
“When will you be back?” she asks.
“When I save my girl.”
My words cut her. She doesn’t know who I’m talking about. All she hears is the my girl part. I’m talking about a woman I seem to care about more than her. I see the jealousy in her eyes.
When I return, Liesel will make me pay for that.
But just as quickly as it came, the jealousy is gone.
She wasn’t able to do that before. I’m guessing it has to do with her having trouble feeling anything anymore.
“Whoever she is, save her like you didn’t save me.”
“I won’t fail.” I slam the door and drive away, while Liesel watches me leave her, like so many times before.
25
Liesel
Who is she?
Who is the woman Langston dropped everything for? At a moment’s notice no less, scrapping all of his plans for the day.
She’s a lucky woman, whoever she is. Even when we were best friends, Langston never looked at me with that much worry or concern in his eyes. He never ran the second I called.
Who is she?
Who is he running to save?
Who does he love?
All those questions burn through my head as I watch Langston drive off.
Is she a girlfriend?
A woman he wishes was his?
Is it Kai or Siren?
Who?
It’s like a punch to the gut. My world spins. My eyes slant into slits of anger.
I’m jealous.
For a split second, I wish I was the lucky girl to whom Langston is running.
“Snap out of it. Langston is a cruel, sadistic killer. Nobody wants to be loved by a man like that,” I coach myself.
I walk back inside the house just as Joel heads back into his bedroom and slams the door shut. He doesn’t care about protecting us. He’s useless. I doubt I see him out of his room again.
I head into the kitchen, where Amelia is making breakfast. She’s holding a plate of food, which I assume is for me.
“Thanks, I’ll just eat it out—”
Amelia takes a bite of the toast on the plate. “There are groceries in the fridge. I hope you know how to cook.”
She flashes me an annoying, sarcastic grin before she takes her breakfast out on the patio, where I usually eat it.
“Bitch,” I mutter under my breath.
I’m alone.
And I’m not hungry.
I stare at the door Langston had to unlock to relay an instruction. There is a woman who lives in the other half of the house.
Who is she?
I walk to the solid wood door. I put my hand on the door handle and twist.
It’s locked.
I jiggle the door handle a couple more times just to be sure, but the door is definitely locked.
I consider spending all my time trying to break in, but I have more important things to do today. I need to find a way off this island before Langston returns.
I run upstairs to Langston’s bedroom.
I search for his phone, his laptop, any electronic device that I can use to contact Waylon.
God, Waylon, I miss him.
Langston is a bit of a minimalist. He has a nightstand with no drawers. His dresser only has clothes in the top two drawers and the bottom drawers are empty. His bathroom only holds the absolute basics—toothbrush, soap, towels. I find nothing useful.