Page 99 of Pleasure Island
He’s just worried about you.
I ignored the quiet voice as I stared at the screen of the TV without seeing it. I finished off the second glass of wine and threw down the remote. Getting up, I emptied the rest of the wine into my glass and started to pace the living room, drinking and brooding.
My head spun a little, but that might have something to do with the fact that I was practically walking in circles across the smooth, polished floors. I felt hot and edgy, desperate for air.
Unable to take it anymore, I strode into the bedroom and closed the door behind me. A door opened to a terraced garden area that was shared with the other bungalow. I was going to go outside and try to breathe.
Carefully, taking care not to let the door shut too loudly behind me, I slid onto the patio and left the pretty wooden platform outside my bedroom door, taking the stone path down into the garden that stretched between my bungalow and several others.
I waited for the vice around my chest to ease up, sucking in air desperately. But the terrace didn’t seem to be much better than inside. I still felt trapped and restless.
The security guards were still at the front door, and I eyed the gate that opened to the paths.
I’d told Liam I’d keep the security personnel with me, but I felt like if I didn’t get away from all of this, I might go mad.
Maybe I’d already done it.
Madness and a whole bottle of wine might explain why I slid outside into the twilight. Alone.
Logic told me I should get back to the bungalow, get the security personnel to go with me, but the fight with Liam had left me unsettled, and I felt like I was going to come out of my skin.
I knew the island better than almost anybody.
If I wasn’t safe here, was I safeanywhere?
Instead of finding that thought reassuring, it left me feeling uneasy, and I paused in the middle of the path, looking back in the direction of the bungalow – the guards.
Damn it, I’d left New York to getawayfrom this sort of shit.
Was it really following me?
It was that thought that made up my mind, and I spun away from the bungalow, taking the first path that veered off to the right.
I was going down to the beach.
It would be quiet this time of day – a storm front had moved in, turning the air chilly and most of the resort guests would be spending time poolside or partaking in other amenities offered by the resort.
It was a perfect time for a walk to clear my head.
* * *
The soundof the water crashing on the beach was normally a sound I found soothing.
Tonight, the surf sounded angry, as frustrated as I was.
A wind whipped off the water, and I wrapped my arms around my midsection, wishing I’d brought a sweater. The cool air did help somewhat though. The fog brought on by wine and not enough food started to clear from my head.
Sand inside my shoes scraped against my feet, and the wind blew my hair into my eyes.
Shoving the loose strands back, I turned and faced the water. I could see the spot on the beach where Liam had placed me after he pulled me out of the ocean.
I found myself thinking about the glint in his eyes, the worry that had sharpened his voice as he yelled at me.
Shivering, I rubbed my hands down my arms, but it didn’t do much to help warm me. The chill sank deeper and deeper inside me, and I cast a look back toward the resort.
Normally, just looking at the place made me smile. The lights that came on at twilight always made it look even more welcoming than usual. At least, normally.
But the lights seemed hard and bright now and awfully far away.
