by Bea Paige
“And the problem is?”
“The problem is that I’ve not stepped off this island for more than eight years.”
“Because you don’t want to or are afraid to?”
“A little of both. Mum and Dad died in a car crash on the mainland. I just… I feel safe here and honestly I’ve never had any desire to leave. I love living here.”
Lola drops the dish towel she’s holding and turns me to face her. She squeezes my shoulders, dropping her head to meet my gaze. “I get that. I understand. I love it here too. If you’re not comfortable leaving then don’t feel obligated to do anything. If Peter is a true friend, he’ll understand.”
“But I want to go…” I admit, though it isn’t for the reasons Lola assumes. This past week has been the hardest I’ve had to endure. Being on the island with Malakai and not having him the way I want is torture. Peter has been a good friend. He’s backed off romantically and has kept me sane, and now he’s offered me a means of escape, even if it’s just for a couple days.
“Then do it. The hardest part will be getting on that ferry, once it pulls away you’ll have no choice but to stay put unless you fancy swimming back home and I wouldn’t recommend that, it’s quite a distance.” She smiles warmly, then starts drying the dishes.
“I guess…” Thing is Lola’s wrong. The hardest part will be knowing that despite my antics, Malakai won’t be affected by my absence even though I really, really want him to be. This is a test. This is a stupid, foolish test, I know that, but a tiny part of me hopes that where I go, Malakai will follow. This time.
“When are you going?” Lola asks.
“This afternoon?” My answer comes out as a question because of course this is my job, and I really should’ve given her more notice than a couple hours.
“Done. Rob can help me out if I get bogged down. He’s handing over more responsibility to his crew and taking more time off to spend with me anyway.” She smiles broadly, a flush heating her cheeks.
“You really care about him, don’t you?”
“I do. I wasn’t expecting to fall in love, Connie… It’s just.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask, as she pauses, taking a deep breath.
“It’s complicated.” She chews on her bottom lip and I know she wants to share more but doesn’t know where to start. She looks through the open doors, her gaze directed at Malakai’s boat moored at the end of the harbour. My stomach drops.
“You miss Malakai?” I whisper.
She nods. “I do. We’ve never had the most conventional friendship, and god knows he has hurt me…”
“But?” I question.
“But, I’ve missed him. It’s hard to stay angry at someone you love. Besides, I know he has shit in his past that forces him to run. I just wish he’d talked to me more. I just wish he’d…”
“You just wish he’d said goodbye?”
“Yeah.” She sighs heavily. “He knows exactly how to hurt a person, to keep them at arms-length.”
“You’re not wrong there…” The words slip out before I have a chance to stop them, but it isn’t the words that have Lola questioning me, it’s the sob that releases after them.
“Connie?” I can feel Lola’s gaze on me, and I slam my mouth shut. “Did something happen between you and Malakai last year?” she asks gently.
It’s time to be honest, I realise that, but I can’t seem to find the words. She’s his best friend after all. Her claim to him existed long before anything happened between us. “Yes,” I whisper. My hands grip hold of the sink as my head drops forward. “I missed him so much.”
“I see.” There’s a hint of surprise in her voice, but that’s it.
“And now…” I croak.
“And now?” she asks, her voice soft, warm, with no kind of disappointment in it. She places her hand on my back. “It’s okay, Connie. You can tell me. I’m a judgement free zone, I swear it.”
“And now he doesn’t want anything to do with me.” I don’t tell her what happened on Broken Shores a week ago because I’m still confused by that. His words were hurtful and yet it felt just like that first time when he’d touched me, kissed me. Potent, magical, beautiful, and so bittersweet. Hope had bloomed in my chest that morning only to be dashed and filled up with hate instead. That hate has twisted into pain, despair and a deep longing.
“Malakai doesn’t do relationships well. Look at our friendship,” she offers kindly.
“That’s just it. He’s your best friend. I kept this from you.”
“That may be true, but he isn’t mine, Connie. I don’t own him, and I certainly don’t judge you for wanting Malakai. God knows there’s something about that man.” She gives a little laugh, shaking her head. “You’ve no need to feel any guilt for wanting him or for acting on it.”
“I can’t take a breath without thinking of him, Lola” I say in a rush, the ocean breeze constricting in my lungs. “For so long I willed him to return. I sent him text message after text message the whole time he was away. He read them all, but never once responded. Not once. Then he turns up here a week ago, demanding to see me, only to walk away again with no explanation as to why he left, or why he returned. I don’t know what to do. I’ve got whiplash. My heart hurts. It hurts.” Tears well and I try so hard to blink them back, but they fall anyway. Hot, heavy, and in a torrent that I can’t seem to stop.
“Is that why you need to leave?”
I nod, as she pulls me into her arms, holding me close. “I can’t stand it anymore. This push and pull, it’s tearing me apart.”
“Then you should go. You need space, a few days away from here will give you that. I’m sorry he’s treated you so badly, Connie.”
“It isn’t your fault.” I pull out of her hold, swiping at my eyes. “I’m sorry I never told you before. I just… I felt so guilty that he left, and I thought somehow my messages would get him to return. So much time passed that it got to the point when I didn’t know how to bring the subject up. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be sorry, Connie. This isn’t on you. Malakai chose to leave without saying goodbye, and he chose to ignore your messages. There’s no excuse for that. None. I always knew he was a stubborn idiot, but I never pinned him for a coward. It was cowardly. You deserve happiness, love, fun. You’re so young, Connie. Go to the mainland with Peter, meet up with your friends. Drink, be merry, dance, sightsee, and forget about Malakai, he doesn’t deserve your tears.”
“I’m going to go. I will go,” I say with a determined nod of my head.
“Good. Now, get off home. Go get packed and leave the rest to me, okay?”
“Okay.”
Lola gives me one last hug before freeing me. I grab my hoodie and bag from the office and head towards the door. When I reach it, Lola calls after me, “Connie…”
“Yes?” I respond, twisting to face her.
“Sometimes the only way to make someone see you is to remove yourself from their sight…”
We exchange glances and I draw in a deep breath. Then that’s exactly what I’ll do.
Twenty-Eight
Malakai
I’m standing in Grant’s boat shop when I hear raised voices outside. Grant looks up from the piece of wood he’s sanding down and raises his eyebrows. “Sounds like Lola, mate,” he says, pulling a face. He knows she’s been avoiding me just as much as I’ve been avoiding her. This is the showdown I’ve been waiting for, and damn, I’m not ready for it.
“Fucking great,” is all I manage to respond before Lola pushes open the door and storms inside, Ma Silva following her.
“This is ridiculous!” Lola shouts, and I realise it isn’t me she’s aiming her annoyance at, but Ma Silva.
“Lola, you need to tell us where she is!” Ma Silva responds, waving a piece of paper in the air.
“Tell us where who is?” I push up out of the chair I was sitting in and glare at them both.
“I will not. He made his choice! Connie has a right to be happy.�
�� Lola crosses her arms and glares at us both.
Connie? Oh, fuck no.
“What is going on?” I demand, looking between them both whilst Grant watches us all with interest.
“Connie’s left me a note. I just found it and came straight to find Lola. She’s gone, Malakai,” Ma Silva explains, her anger giving way to fear.
“Gone? What the fuck do you mean, she’s gone? She was at The Shack last time Grant checked.”
“So now you’ve got people spying on the poor girl. What is it with you, Malakai? Isn’t it enough that you’ve broken her damn heart? Coming back here and messing with her head like this is out of order. I’m a grown arse woman who’s used to your shit. She deserves better!”
“Lola, tell us where she’s gone!”
“No.”
In two strides, I snatch the letter from Ma Silva’s hand and read it quickly.
Dear Grandma,
I’ve gone to the mainland for a few days. I needed space to think. I can’t do that here anymore. Lola knows where I am if you’re worried.
I love you,
Connie.
“What the fuck? Where is she, Lola?” I demand, turning on her. My heart jackhammers in my chest, spreading caustic fear through my veins.
“Why do you care?”
“If you don’t tell us, Lola, I swear to fucking god you’re not going to survive what I do next.”
“Don’t you threaten me, Malakai. I am not afraid of you!”
“You should be. You should be afraid, because if anything happens to her…!”
“What do you mean if anything happens to her? She’s with Peter, she’ll be fine!”
“WITH PETER?!” I roar.
Lola’s eyes widen, matching the fear and confusion on Ma Silva’s face.
“Oh, fuck,” Grant mutters.
“She took the ferry that left an hour ago to the mainland. She’s going to visit some friends of his. Meet up with Jack, Georgia and Alice…” Lola explains, her eyes wide.
“NO!” I shout, anxiety ripping through my chest. “What have you done?”
“I haven’t done a damn thing but advise her to live her life!” she retorts defensively.
“You stupid, stupid woman!”
Ma Silva reaches for me, her hand grasping my arm. “Malakai, is she in danger?” Her voice is low, painfully controlled. When I meet her eyes, I nod.
“That kid is hiding something… and now he has Connie.”
“You don’t think the King…?” she whispers.
“I don’t know for sure… There’s someone I know who has been doing some checks. I’ve been waiting to hear the outcome before deciding what to do. This changes things.”
“Oh, god,” Ma Silva cries, her hand flying up to cover her mouth.
I don’t try to comfort her or ease her fears, instead I return my attention to Lola. “I’m going to ask you this one more time. Where. Is. She?”
“Canterbury. They’re staying at the Holiday Inn there.”
I nod my head, turning to Grant now. “Take Ma Silva home. Stay with her until I call with the news.”
“Sure,” he agrees.
“Malakai, what’s going on…?” Lola asks, subdued now that she understands this is something bigger than me just being a jealous, possessive arsehole.
“Ma will fill you in. I’ve got to go.”
With that I turn on my heel and run out of the boat shop and head straight for Princess. Whoever this Peter is, he better not have any connections to the King because if I find out that he has, he’s a dead man walking.
By the time I get Princess out of the harbour and across the mainland, it’s pushing eight o’clock. I moor up in Whitstable, the nearest harbour to Canterbury and press the Uber app on my phone, requesting a ride to the Holiday Inn where Connie told Lola she’s staying. Forty minutes later the cabby pulls up outside the hotel.
“Wait here, I might need you to take me somewhere else,” I say to the cabbie, then dash from the car and straight into the reception area.
Behind the desk sits a middle-aged woman who’s eyes widen when I enter. “Good evening, Sir. How may I help you?” she asks, smiling broadly whilst blatantly checking me out.
“I’m looking for my… sister, Connie Silva, she arrived earlier today with Peter Jones. Can you tell me if they’ve checked in?” I ask. I’m fully aware she has every right to deny me, so I lean over the counter and give her my most disarming smile.
“It isn’t really policy…”
Her name tag tells me she’s called Shelbie. So I lower my voice and give her fuck-me eyes. “I appreciate that, Shelbie, but I promise, I’ll make it worth your while…” I let the innuendo hang in the air and hope to fuck this woman falls for it.
“Connie Silva, you say?”
“Yes, that’s her.”
She taps the keyboard in front of her, studying the computer screen for a minute. “Checked in around 5pm. Looks like she and her friend headed out for the evening though. She booked a cab into the centre of town an hour ago.”
“Does it say where to?”
Shelbie bites on her lip knowing she’s said too much already. I make sure that I drag my gaze over her ample cleavage and lean in closer pretending she’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.
“Volts Nightclub.”
I grin broadly, lean over the counter, grab her cheeks in my palms and plant a kiss on her lips. “You, Shelbie, are a fucking beautiful human being.”
Her cheeks flush red and she giggles as I dash out of the hotel and back into the waiting car.
Barking out the address to the cabbie, who loads it onto his phone, we head off.
Outside the club is a stream of people dressed to impress and waiting to get inside. Girls are covered in a thick layer of makeup, wearing clothes that leave very little to the imagination and the guys are dressed in the usual garb kids wear these days. After a quick glance, I can see that neither Connie nor Peter are in the queue. Climbing out of the cab and chucking the cabby an extra fifty-pound note for the trouble, I head straight over to the bouncer, not bothering to queue up. He takes one look at me and unhooks the rope, letting me in much to the grumbles of the waiting crowd. There’s something to be said about a ‘don’t fuck with me attitude’ and that bouncer knows not to fuck with me tonight.
The minute I set foot inside after paying the fee to get in, I’m hit with a wall of heat and noise. I've been to many clubs like this in my time and they’re good for one thing: getting pissed and finding someone to take home for the night to fuck. I can’t believe that little prick Peter thinks he can take my girl here and get away with it.
My girl?
That thought should surprise me, but it doesn’t. She’s been mine from the first moment I laid eyes on her. It’s only now that fact is really beginning to sink in. Forcefully pushing all thoughts of ownership out of my head, I walk up the stairs to the section of the club that overlooks the main dancefloor. It’s heaving inside, already filled with sweaty bodies and half-drunk revellers. A deep bass pounds in my ears and thrums in my veins, but the beat is sexy, sensual. It puts me on high alert because I know that Peter has brought Connie here to woo her, and dancing is just a prelude to that. The little shit. Heading to the bar, I jerk my chin to the bartender who takes one look at me and comes running.
“Double brandy, straight up.”
Less than a minute later I’ve paid and downed the shot in one go. It’s enough to take the edge off, because right now I’m fucking murderous. Pushing off the bar, I scan the mezzanine floor. Neither Connie nor Peter, are here, which means, in all likelihood, they’re on the dancefloor below. Peering into the crowd below, I hunt for my Little Siren. It doesn’t take me long to spot her.
“Motherfucker,” I exclaim, my jaw gritting and my hands wrapping tightly around the banister I’m holding onto. Connie is in the centre of the dancefloor surrounded by her two girlfriends I met briefly last year, Jack, and that Peter bastard. She smiling, her
eyes pressed shut, her very bare skin covered in a sheen of sweat and the tiniest little dress I’ve ever fucking seen. It barely covers her damn arse. To make matters worse, Peter is grinding against her, his hands gripping her hips possessively. Even the little arsehole Jack is giving him daggers.
Jealousy, like nothing I’ve ever felt before, floods every inch of me and it’s all I can do to keep my cool. If it weren’t for my phone buzzing in my back pocket I would’ve stormed onto the dancefloor and ripped the little shit, a new one.
Sliding my finger across my mobile screen, I click on the message from JMSBOND. Talk about perfect fucking timing. The arsehole has kept me waiting long enough.
His name is Abel Trent. On the run. Three counts of sexual assault. One count of rape.
Motherfucker!
The King? I message back quickly, needing to know if there’s a connection. JMSBOND will know what I mean.
No connection as far as I can find.
It’s a relief, but only a mild one. The little bastard’s a sexual predator and he has my girl. Fuck! I don’t respond, instead my attention zeroes back in on Connie and Abel. Pure, unadulterated fear spreads over me, but beneath that the man I used to be comes back full force. I’ve kept him under wraps for years now, never wanting to go back there. Tonight he’s coming out of retirement. This kid might be dangerous, but I’m the original Punisher, and this dickhead isn’t going to survive the night.
Committing murder in a packed nightclub isn’t how I deal, so for the next few hours I watch the group. They dance, they drink, and they have fun just like the rest of the young people here. Whilst Jack still clearly has a thing for Connie, given all the surreptitious looks he keeps giving her, he doesn’t try to make a move. Peter has well and truly claimed Connie and is making that well-known, even though my Little Siren is apparently oblivious. Given the way she’s moving, stumbling every now and then, it’s obvious she can’t take her drink, or the fucking cunt has spiked the ones he’s been buying her.
