“Thank you,” I murmur, my voice a little rougher than I expect. The words feel oddly out of place, but I mean them.
She tilts her head, seeming to understand what I mean. “You’re welcome.”
I stand, pushing my chair back. “I’ll take care of the boat stuff,” I say, keeping my tone casual. The last thing I want is for her to see the bodies. There’s no reason for her to witness that kind of thing.
She doesn’t argue, just nods quietly. I’m relieved.
I’ve waited too long as it is, but I have the best excuse and my cock jumps when I think about last night.
Not only does my cock jump, my heart does too.
Because this is more than just fucking now, isn’t it?
It always has been for me, but I suspect the same for her now too.
I head out of the cottage, letting the door close softly behind me. The wind is still brisk, the air cold against my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the storm we just survived. The ocean seems quieter now, almost eerily still, though I know it’s only temporary. The waves are never calm for long.
I make my way down to the shore, where the boat sits just above the waterline, the hull cracked and battered from the impact with the rocks. The bodies are still on board, motionless, silent.
I need to get rid of the evidence. It feels more urgent now that I have left things as they currently are for so many hours.
The boat’s too far out for me to just drag it back in, and the bodies—well, they’re better off left to the ocean. The last thing I want is for anyone to come looking for these two idiots. Which, I am sure they will. But if I can make it seem like the island is still mostly deserted to any passersby, maybe we’ll be able to move on without too much attention.
But the drugs—those are a different story.
I don’t want the ocean tainted by whatever the hell these people were transporting. I don’t want to risk the fish, the wildlife, anything.
I imagine a coked-up blowfish and chuckle to myself.
Then I set to work. I damage the hull further, making sure it’ll be unstable enough to sink once it’s pushed out into deeper water. I don’t care what happens to the boat. I don’t care about the wreckage or the twisted metal. All I care about is making sure it disappears without a trace.
I shove the boat into the water, the wood scraping against the sand and rocks. It takes more effort than I expect, but eventually, it’s far enough out that I can let it drift. The tide will take care of the rest.
The bodies stay in the boat, drifting away as I push it into the deeper water. The waves take them, pulling them out of sight, out of mind.
I don’t watch them for long. I don’t need to. The ocean’s a cruel thing, but it’s also efficient. The bodies will be gone soon enough.
I turn away, walking back toward the lighthouse. The drugs are a problem, though, and I need to deal with the rest of them.
I stash them in the unused part of the lighthouse. I’ll have to figure out what to do with them later. For now, the only thing I can do is hide them out of sight.
I pause for a moment. The boat’s gone, the bodies are gone, but the damage is done.
I can’t afford for things to spiral out of control, not now.
I just need to keep my head down and focus on keeping Kruz safe. I’ve got enough trouble on my hands without adding to it.
19
THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES
KRUZ
I knowI shouldn’t be out here—not on the pier, not where he’s explicitly told me not to go—but I can’t help myself.
Ezra’s in the lighthouse, handling whatever came ashore with the wrecked boat. It makes me wonder how many crevices there are to hide things inside there, and what else the Assembly may have stashed.
While he’s away working, it’s the perfect opportunity to stretch my legs and enjoy the small thrill of knowing how pissed he’ll be if he catches me.
