Page 40 of Property of Anchor
I looked around, lowered my voice.“Pearl, someone’s trying to drag the club into something dark.The bodies, the initials carved into them, now this patch showing up, none of it’s random.And I think you’re in the middle of it now.”
She swallowed hard.“I don’t want to be.”
“I know.But you are.And I’m gonna do everything I can to keep you out of it from here on.”
She crossed her arms, more to protect herself than anything else.“Do you think someone’s trying to frame you?”
I met her eyes.“I don’t know.But I do know we can’t trust the wrong people with this.”
She looked down at the trail again, then up at me.“So what happens now?”
“You go back to your crew.You finish what you were hired to do.And you let me and the club handle the rest.I don’t want this to worry you.”
Pearl didn’t look convinced, but she nodded anyway.
I didn’t want to leave her.Not with that worry on her face.But I also couldn’t keep her too close, not with things heating up.
As she turned to head back to the haunted house, I let my eyes linger on her.There was something about her I hadn’t been able to put into words yet.Something that made it impossible to look away.
I knew I was dragging her into something dark.
And I wasn’t sure I could stop it.
Chapter Sixteen
Pearl
The steam still clung to the air and curled around the edges of the mirror above the tiny sink.I ran my fingers through my damp hair and worked out the knots while my reflection stared back at me with flushed cheeks and tired eyes.
The last few days had blurred together—long hours, late nights, and enough paint fumes to make a person dizzy.But the haunted house looked incredible now.The exterior was done, a patchwork of dark reds, sludgy greens, and eerie purples that made it look like it had clawed its way out of a nightmare.My crew had knocked it out of the park.
Anchor had been a ghost.
I’d catch glimpses of him on the far end of the lot, sometimes standing near the dock or up on the wraparound porch of the clubhouse.Watching.Not hiding, but not exactly making an effort to come talk to me either.It was almost like he wanted me to know he was watching, that he was still keeping an eye on me, but didn’t want to get too close.
And dammit, I wanted him close.
It hadn’t escaped my notice when Brian asked me if I was okay two days ago and Anchor stepped in between us like some kind of brooding guard dog.There was nothing going on with Brian; he was happily married and had a toddler who called me Auntie Pearl, but Anchor didn’t know that.
He didn’t ask either.He just made his silent claim and walked off like he hadn’t just short-circuited my brain.
Now I stood in my towel, the night air pressing through the cracked window.I padded into the main room of the cabin, grabbed an old tee and a pair of soft shorts from my duffel bag.My skin still tingled from the hot water, and I was halfway into the shirt when I heard it—a knock.Not loud.Just… confident.
My heart jumped.Only one person knocked like that on this island.
I didn’t even bother with socks.I padded barefoot to the door and opened it.
Anchor stood there, backlit by the moonlight, the edge of a cigarette glowing between two fingers.His hair was a little wild, like he’d run his hands through it one too many times.His cut stretched across his shoulders like it belonged there, which it did.His gaze dropped over me slowly, deliberately, and settled on my face.
“Evenin’, doll.”
My mouth went dry.“Hey.”
“You busy?”
I leaned against the doorframe, pretending like I didn’t want to pull him inside and wrap myself around him.“You’re lucky I’m decent.”
He smirked.“That’s debatable.”
