I slink away from the window and along the house.
I can’t believe what I just saw. Maybe I wasn’t so wrong about Langston after all.
I stop to dart into the kitchen and find a bottle of scotch and a towel, quickly running back outside. I don’t know what to make of everything that just happened. I need some space to decompress everything. The scotch will help with the pain until I’m ready to face Langston again.
What are you up to, Langston?
I always thought I was the only one with secrets. I thought his only secrets were the contents of the half of my letter he stole. Now, I’m beginning to think he has secrets of his own.
28
Langston
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this level of anger.
I thought shooting Joel would dissipate some of it, but I’m more pissed off than I was when I first caught them.
I can’t trust any of my employees.
I’ve always known that. The only way you gain the kind of trust required to do this job is by working side by side, battling for your lives and growing up together. The kind of trust that I have with Enzo and Zeke. That’s not possible with any of my employees.
I have money, but I’m not filthy rich like Enzo. I can pay my employees well, but not well enough to ensure they are loyal. And the threat of death only goes so far. I’m guessing now that I’ve killed one of them, the rest will be more likely to stay in line.
God, I can’t get the images out of my head.
I was still in the air, about an hour out, when the security feed came through. I just wanted to see Liesel, see what she was up to. That’s when I found her tied to my bed.
She looked dead, but I couldn’t see any bullet or stab wounds, no blood.
I implored my pilot to fly faster, but we weren’t fast enough.
As soon as I landed, I drove like a maniac to get here. I didn’t trust anyone to stop what was happening. And then I saw Joel enter the room.
Up to that point, Liesel was just tied up. I could think of a million ways my huntress could have gotten herself into that position. A billion tricks she could have pulled on my staff that made them think she was a vicious creature needing to be tied up.
Joel climbed on top of her.
He kissed what is mine!
And he said he had violated her before.
I became a bull about to ram through everyone in my way at that point.
I couldn’t watch the rest, and yet I couldn’t drag my eyes away.
I watched as she drew blood.
I watched as she struggled to free herself.
I watched her stronger than I’ve ever seen her, not making a single sound of pain, fear, or defeat. It’s then that I realized my entire strategy had been wrong. There is no way I’m breaking Liesel. She’s too durable, impenetrable.
But if anyone is going to break her, it’s going to be me.
When I finally got here, it took all of my control not to show her how I felt. I was the one breaking for her. I’ve always been breaking for her.
I ordered Joel away.
Even then, it took everything in me to walk away from her. We both needed space. She deserved space to hate me for failing her again.
After shooting Joel, I probably should have killed Amelia too, but I didn’t want to spend the day getting rid of two dead bodies.
Instead, I spent the day giving Liesel space. I spent it trying to put the fear of God into the rest of my team, laying down rules and making it perfectly clear what will happen if they lay a finger on Liesel without my permission.
I pick out a new man as my head of security to replace Joel. Unfortunately, no one else on the team is a good cook, so we will be chefless for the time being.
All I know is that I don’t trust a damn soul on this island—not even Phoenix, who has decided to give me the silent treatment today.
As for Liesel, she’s been at the beach all day.
I gave her her space. I needed it as much as she did.
But the sun is setting—it’s time to talk.
I grab the most expensive bottle of scotch I own. One I don’t think Liesel has tried, but she’ll love. I carry it and two glasses down the sandy cove to the beach.
Liesel is sitting in our spot in the sand already. I’m pretty sure she’s sat here all day. She has a towel wrapped around her like she’s cold, but the sun’s heat is still beating on us. I’m sweating as I walk, so there is no way she’s cold.
Then I spot the bottle she’s lifting to her lips. It only has a fourth of the liquid left in it. She’s probably drunk off her ass if that bottle was full when she started this morning. She’s trying to chase her demons away with alcohol, trying to chase away Joel. She doesn’t know that he’s already paid for what he did to her.
I sit down next to her in the sand.
She doesn’t look over at me, just brings the bottle back to her lips.
“Where’s Joel?” she asks with surprising clarity for a woman who spent the day drinking.
“He quit.”
“Uh-huh,” she says, not believing me.
“You don’t have to worry about Joel anymore.”
“I know.”
I frown, not sure what she means. She’s drunk, so I’m not going to get any clear answers from her tonight. Tonight is just about getting back into our routine.
“I told you not to trust anyone but me,” I say.
“Oh, so this is my fault?” Her head snaps to me with the venom of a cobra as she looks at me.
Her towel drops away as she snarls at me, and my world freezes.
Blood.
Dried blood covers her shoulder.
I think back to Joel. I don’t remember him having any wound except for his tongue, where she bit him. And of course, the giant hole I put in his head.
I reach out to examine her shoulder, but Liesel pulls away, re-covering herself with the towel.
That’s why she has the towel: to hide her pain.
“Liesel, let me see your shoulder,” I say calmly and firmly. I won’t give her a choice in the matter. I need to see her injuries, but I won’t physically force her.
Her eyes tear into me, and once again, she looks ready to strike.
“Please,” I force my voice to soften.
She blinks rapidly, trying to find a way out of showing me her shoulder. Eventually, something she sees in my eyes forces her to let me.
She nods and relinquishes her hold on the towel, but doesn’t remove it herself.
I reach out, and she doesn’t pull away this time.
I grab the towel, preparing myself not to react to whatever I see.
When I lower the towel, I see the dried blood once again, and then I see the gaping hole blasted into the back of her shoulder.
A bullet hole.
In the back.
The fucking bastard shot her running away. He didn’t even have the decency to shoot her face to face.
“Shit,” I curse, grinding my teeth together.
Liesel’s hazel eyes water, but she doesn’t cry.
Once again, I failed her. I should have been here instead of searching for Siren. I should have known Joel was a bastard. I should have known she’d been shot.
And I shouldn’t be showing her any damn emotion, but there is no hiding how I feel.
I pull the rest of the towel from her back, examining every inch of her with my own eyes, but I only see the single bullet hole.