“Oh, really?”
“I’m always misplacing things. And then I became so relaxed I figured I’d stay a little while.”
“It is nice. I’m Skye.” She felt like a flustered schoolgirl. Her instincts should have told her to leave the potentially dangerous stranger and go back to the duplex, but there was no damn way that was happening.
“Pleasure to meet you.”
“I didn’t realize there were other guests here.”
“Not really a guest. I have a business in Belize, but I also help out around here with various exciting chores.”
“What’s your business?”
“Just a little beachfront restaurant. Less sealife, more burgers and fries.”
His voice was deep and soft. She wanted him between her legs.
“Why Belize?”
“Oh, let’s just say it moves at a slower pace here. A little more forgiveness.”
“Yeah, it’s bonkers beautiful here.” She had never said bonkers in her life.
“And you. Where do you live?”
“New York.”
“Really?” He sounded dramatically surprised.
“Why?”
“Well…” He stopped himself, perhaps trying to be coy.
“No seriously, what is it?”
“I’m just surprised you’re from anywhere I guess. Just a feeling I get.”
“Are you saying I don’t seem rooted, or do you just get me?” He wasn’t necessarily wrong. She wasn’t a true New Yorker.
His beautiful smile was still on display. She wanted to grab his square jaw and kiss him roughly.
“I suppose I do. So… What do you like about New York?”
It was a good question; one that she had never even asked herself. Was the art and culture her only answer?
The bottle of tequila was almost completely drunk, the kid taking in his fair share. He thought about cutting him off halfway through, but they were having a good time. Jhett was quite the conversationalist for a fourteen-year-old. The laughter was hearty, the dialog easy, talking about life in the Big Apple, the women, the drugs—trying not to place too much glamour in association with using. He seemed like a smart kid. A good kid.
Jhett took another gulp of tequila. “So, what’s your problem, Ashton?”
“What you mean, little man?”
“Why are you out here wandering around? Thought you had a girlfriend,” he asked.
“I’m not really sure what she is.”
“You break up or what?”
“No, no. I’m not sure why I’m out here. Same reason as you maybe.”
“If you ask me, it’s not a good sign.”
“Or maybe it is. Gotta roll with the punches, you know? Whatever will happen will happen.”
He stared into Ashton’s eyes daringly and then chugged the rest of the bottle in one big gulp. He didn’t even cough or grimace after.
“Hey. I’m a child of a broken and recovered home. I’ve seen both ends of it. Don’t act so Zen,” said Jhett.
The words were out of left field and cut through Ashton, even though he wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by it. Ashton never had a father.
“You don’t act Zen, brother. You are Zen… How do you mean, broken and recovered?”
“Avoiding each other at all costs… You’re on an island. A very small island. And here you are talking to me.”
“You’re just that cool. Why the hell are you living in Belize? I mean it’s wicked, but where are you from anyway?”
“Where I’m from doesn’t matter. Not anymore.”
Ashton regretted filling the kid up with tequila. If one of his parents were here on the island, he’d be in deep shit. Vomit was on the horizon, and he was to blame.
“Where are your parents?”
Jhett started throwing darts again, leaning back into the darkness. Ashton saw that look. He knew that look.
“I can’t remember my dad either. I wouldn’t worry about that, small fry.”
Mentioning his father made him think of his mom. He could see her clearly; lying on the hospital bed, surrounded by flowers. MS… That machine breathing for her…
Ashton extended his hand to receive the bottle of tequila and when it was handed off, he saw it was empty.
“Sorry.”
“It’s all good.”
“No, I mean I’m sorry you’re so pathetic.” Jhett’s sadness had transformed into something with a more sadistic flavor.
Ashton said nothing.
“I mean, what are you? Some damaged burnout without any brain cells left.”
“Hey, I’m sorry your parents abandoned you on an island. And I’m sorry I fed you a barrel of Agave. You should puke as much as you can now. Don’t wait for morning.”
“Oh, no. Bro. Mom and dad are here with me.”
“Good for you.”
“Yeah, I’m not a babbling pussy like yourself. And I’m pretty sure even I could fuck your girlfriend.”
Ashton laughed bitterly. “You might be right. She’d be a helluva cherry popper, small fry. She’s maybe built a little too fast for you though. I’d start slow, build yourself up.”
“I’d handle her just fine. Keep her as my pet. My little stupid whore-slave. I’d treat her the way she should be treated… Fairly.”
“Remember. Vomit before bed. You’ll thank me.”
“That’s some barrier you got, large fry.”
“Shit. You are clever. No denying that, my man. But I should leave though. I haven’t felt the need to punch out a scrawny preteen in quite a while. Since I was a preteen I guess… Make sure you give Skye a shout when the balls drop, yeah? Or let me know. I’ll pass along the message.”
“Don’t worry, Ashton. I think we’ll make a man of you yet.”
Whatever that means. “Sounds good, buddy.”
“I’m not your buddy. Bro.”
“I don’t really care what you are. I’ll catch just ya later. Hopefully not though.”
Ashton was baffled about being railroaded. He debated asking for directions as he turned, and that debate went away when he was struck with something solid. The force folded him to his knees; everything turned black. He fought to stay awake for a split second, but his legs were gone. Fading out, he saw another person in the shadows. He bit down on a crunchy grain of sand as he passed out.
Skye was almost face-to-face with Sebastian in the small cave, the water now up to her chest. The darkness in his eyes was so alluring, making her heart flutter. His last question had lingered. What do you like about New York?
He smiled at her, but it was different this time. It wasn’t quite pity, but it was a longing to help her in some way. Ordinarily, she wasn’t much for the type that was trying to “save” her, but she found his calming smile comforting. His eyes were honest, much like Ashton’s, but more intense. More passionate. She fucking loved passion. Ashton didn’t give a shit about anything.
“What do you do?” She was close enough this time that she could indeed feel the vibrations of his voice. She was becoming increasingly aroused, tension building with reckless abandon.
“I’m a teacher.”
“No.” He moved in closer. The tips of their noses almost touched. “What do you do?”
She leaned in closer, feeling his hot breath on her cheek. “Whatever you want me to do.”
She leaned in and kissed him. He pulled away after a second. She slid her hand down his stomach and passed the waistline of his trunks. To her surprise, he grabbed hold of her hand and squeezed her wrist rather tightly. She liked that it hurt a little. “I should go,” he said.
The wind was removed from her sails. His eyes didn’t waver, his rejection making it hotter. She removed her hand and grabbed hold of his, placing his fingers neatly around her throat, taunting him to apply pressure.