“Back in a second. I need to use the toilet.” I push out of my seat and touch the locket around my neck, padding the gemstones like braille.
Souza.
Family.
I’m suddenly aware of a vibration behind me. The ever-present moving shadows that were part of my normal life when I lived in Miami.
Guards had circled me in big crowds. Watched me from their vehicles while I sat on the beach with my friends. Strolled along the boardwalk a few feet in the distance. Even followed us on the journey to school.
I was never free.
Thankfully, when I dive into the washroom at the far end of the room, I’m finally alone. Moving to the basin, cool water splashes my hands and helps to dull the heat of my veins.
My pulse is unsteady and all I can think of is a release. I stare at my reflection, not wanting to go there. That’s for later when his lips are on mine and his tongue is… fuck. My stomach coils with need and I grab onto the glitzy vanity top, breathing through it.
When I first arrived at Blackwater, it reminded me of a prison. Everything about it was gothic, vast, and shut off from society. As time passed, isolation transformed into a peaceful, safe haven.
I found freedom there and a new start.
Drying my hands on a paper towel, I comb my fingers through the lengths of my hair, and fix my dress, checking the front buttons are properly fastened. I dig my Fenty lip gloss from my purse, doing my best to ignore the satellite phone next to it. I’m not a hormonal teen who can’t last a few hours without texting her crush like a love-struck fool.
I laugh at that, accepting the fact I am very much in love and suddenly freeze when it beeps. Fishing it out, I stare at the screen, my heart skipping.
Unknown number:Are you okay?
I chew my lip, stupidly trying to hide my giddy smile that he can’t see and type out a response.
Unknown number:Yeah. I've missed him. But I miss you even more.
His reply fires back instantly.
Unknown number:Good girl.
A wicked shiver runs the length of my spine and I press a hand to my belly, savoring the flutters.
Quickly tapping out another message, I hit send and silently beg for more.
Unknown number:Are you busy?
Three dots appear on the screen as if he’s typing and then disappear. I hold my breath, waiting for him to answer me, but the screen goes black.
Had I been at home in the library, this distance would still be the same. Giovanni is busy… so I may as well enjoy myself while I’m here.
I exhale my frustration, return the phone to my purse, turn around, and walk out of the washroom.
“India!” Matheus calls me from the bar. “Come over here. Let's do a shot together and celebrate your birthday.”
Oh, God.
This won’t be awkward or anything. I’m certain André told him all about my silly teenage crush.
Matheus leans in and kisses my cheek. His fresh cologne mixes with liquor fumes. “This is my best friend, Luke.” He slaps his friend on the back.
“Luke St. James.” The guy confirms, like the name should mean something to me. It doesn’t.
Straight, deep brown hair frames his swarthy forehead, the ends of his bangs hitting his eyebrows. His sharp, striking features offset against a royal blue, casually worn shirt.
“India Hardy.” I take his hand and smile back at him.
