While They Watch

by Khloe Summers

  “I want to protect you. You shouldn’t assume this guy wouldn’t do these things. You didn’t think he’d hurt you as he did either.” He was right; I had no idea what crazy things Daniel was thinking. Though, I was glad we weren’t sticking around to find out.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Trade winds and pina coladas solve most things. Or so I’d been told. Until today, I’d never had the opportunity to put that theory to test. But we needed out of Tahoe, and Matteo knew just the place. Kauai sat a few hundred miles off the main island of Hawaii. A small, garden island known for its dramatic natural beauty and white sugar loaf pineapple.

  “I feel bad, leaving on my account,” I said, as we deboarded the jet onto a runway in paradise.

  Matteo glanced over rolling his eyes. “You’re overthinking again. We can do all our business from here until the gala. Let the police work the rest of that shit out.”

  Usually, an Escalade or some other big black car picked us up. Today, a yellow Jeep Wrangler with no top arrived. Already inside, Erik. Erik, as I’d never seen him before. He looked relaxed in a Hawaiian button-down and golf shorts, as though he’d been mystically transported, or perhaps been cloned. Next to him a local, who was going to show us to our private bungalow on the wild north shore.

  “No one will know we’re here,” Matteo began, shouting over the winds that blew around us. “It’s about forty-five minutes to the house.”

  The kind-looking man in the front seat brushed at his dark beard. “Yeah brah, one hour.” He had a thick Hawaiian accent that accentuated our exotic location.

  The drive was unreal, seeing things I’d only seen in movies. Quaint little towns warmed by the humid sun that lifted no further than coconut trees, each with Hawaiian names like Kapa’a and Anahola. Jurassic style palm leaves and ferns covered the lush green landscape as we drove through the valleys and around jagged, green mountains. Large banyan trees with aerial roots grew down like branches creating an exotic backdrop. The smells of wild orchids wafted in and out of our scent stream, lifting our moods with each hint. Occasionally, the road would bend just enough, opening up our view to the blue ocean waves crashing onto the flat, golden sand. Natural and perfect, each and every inch. As though a slice of heaven on Earth.

  In what seemed like a moment later, we’d reached the north shore. Somehow, even more, opulent and divine than we’d previously seen. Where taro farmers stood hunched in the marsh pulling the tall angled leaves for their baskets, and picturesque school houses sat perched in front of green mountain fog at the end of rainbows. We took a left down a rough dirt road, dodging tall grasses and sugar cane that slapped the sides of the Jeep as we drove.

  “Almost there,” The larger brown-skinned man confirmed, turning back with a smile.

  A few minutes later, we arrived as wild chickens and roosters greeted the Jeep. A small white cottage with a peaked top sat nestled on an acre of open grass, surrounding the house, tropical green mountaintops, and the rolling sapphire sea.

  The kind Hawaiian handed us our keys before leaving with Erik, “Two bedrooms, one bath, gourmet kitchen, and lanai, but don’t smoke,” he urged.

  Everything was perfect. Just big enough for the two of us with modern, beachy décor of blues, tans, and greens. The fridge was stocked with all of Matteo’s favorites. Of course, his citrus butter had arrived, but he’d even had my favorite wine flown in — a particular box variety from Target.

  “You’ve got me down, “I said, calling out to the living room where he sat checking his messages. “Do you want a glass?”

  He stayed focused on the glowing screen, “No, thanks.”

  With that, I took to the yard. A sizeable wooden chair on swinging chains sat facing the ocean. The sun, now pulling down into the horizon. I sat and listened to the waves rush in and out, studying the nearby mountain, noticing the waterfalls that dotted its creases. My phone buzzed.

  Lyla: Can you come to check on Piper? She hasn’t been eating well lately, and I’m worried.

  It was as if she knew when I was gone, then showered me with guilt.

  Me: So sorry, we aren’t in town right now. I’ll call Dr. Fremont. He’ll be able to do more for her anyway.

  Lyla: Of course, you’re gone again. I’ll call him myself.

  I was worried about Piper, but bear cubs went in eating spurts. It wasn’t at all uncommon for them to eat a ton one week and lightly the next. Lyla knew this. She only wanted an update on my whereabouts. Looking back down at my phone to scroll through the news events of the day, I noticed a few emails had come in as well. I must have missed them on the flight. The sender xxdeadheatxx. The title: I see you.

  At first, I moved the message to the wastebasket. Assuming it was spam. Then, I noticed the second title: Sex on the Beach; this intrigued me enough to click. I opened the email, and an attachment immediately loaded — a photo that looked to have been taken from the beach, Matteo straddling my body. His long, hard dick exposed on my thigh as he lifted to enter me. His face zoomed and clear in the shadows, excited for sexual pleasure.

  The message: ‘I have video and still images, more than the beach. Do what I say, or I release them to the media.’

  ‘Do what I say?’ The words didn’t register. I reread the message then remembered the first email. On top of the trash xxdeadheatxx, the message clearly stated.

  ‘Turn the alarms off at the Italian estate on July 20 at 1:55 AM GMT and the horse barn at 2:07 AM GMT. If the alarms are not turned off in this order, at these exact times, I’ll share the images and videos with the media. And we all know what that would do to Matteo and his legacy. Not to mention what it would do to the two of you.’

  Below the note, directions:

  ‘You’ll need his thumbprint to access the phone. From there, go to the security app. You’ll need to answer the security question correctly. Click the button that says alarm off. It’s that easy. Don’t fuck it up. And don’t say a fucking word, or I leak it all.’

  Moments passed as heaven swirled around me. My perfect escape now a setting for lies and deception.

  Either way, I was screwed. I could tell him of the email, show him the photos. But he had issues with trust; he would for sure think I had set this all up. Or, I could disable the alarm, and hopefully, this guy goes away. Though he’ll probably be going away with a horse or two or three, to do god knows what with, or, maybe this is all just Daniel. I mean, I had been getting letters, that’s why we’re here. He probably followed us to the beach that night and thought he could somehow ruin this whole thing with some lame attempt at fake blackmail. Still though, he did have at least one photo — a clear one. I thought for a moment, letting my mind ease at the thought; this could all be Daniel.

  “Pina colada? I figured you’d finished that glass of boxed wine by now.” His voice was background noise as the scenarios hyper played in my head. “Hello… come back to me…”

  I reached for the slushy drink, vacantly staring off towards the water. “Thanks, sorry. Just thinking.”

  “Is it Dominatrix night, or should I start planning for a group party?” He was suddenly eager and relaxed, ready to play. But the thought of continuing with our bucket list seemed insane with this new information.

  “Not tonight, I’m not feeling so well,” I lied, holding my head in my hand.

  He snuggled into the swing with me, “Maybe it’s that awful boxed juice.” I knew he wanted to be playful, but guilt had taken over. How could I let him hold me knowing this awful truth? Knowing that he would surely blame me for the photos if they leaked. Knowing that if I told him, they would leak anyway, and he would still have me to blame because this whole bucket list thing had been my idea. I began to hyperventilate, heaving for air.

  He sat up and placed his drink onto the grass, immediately focusing on my breathing. “Are you okay?”

  I was now panting as though I’d run a mile, my hands clamming up. “Just feeling tired.”

  “I sh
ould call someone.” He stood to reach for his phone, keeping his eyes twisted down on me.

  I stood with him, stretching out my tightened diaphragm. “No, please. It’s all the travel. I’m not used to it. I’m just going to lay down for a bit.”

  He helped me into the house, holding his arm behind my back as we walked, which helped calm my breathing. Once inside, he turned down the white comforter, and I climbed into the bed. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call someone? It’s not a big deal.”

  I closed my eyes as though I were exhausted. “I’m sure.”

  “I’ll come to check on you in a bit,” he promised, kissing me softly on the forehead.

  Dusk had just begun to settle when he closed the door, light still filtering through closed curtains. I tried not to think about everything I was thinking. I tried to close my eyes and forget the impending doom that loomed. That email had changed everything, whether it was Daniel or some dangerous blackmailer. I knew I had to turn off the security, just in case, even if that meant losing Pegasus’ line. Maybe Daniel had been right all those years. I was selfish. After all, was I disabling alarms so Matteo wouldn’t leave me? Or was I doing it so his pictures wouldn’t be plastered everywhere? I wanted to believe it was the latter, though I had my doubts. Either way, I had one week to figure it all out.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I hadn’t heard Matteo get into bed last night, or out of bed this morning. Coffee and citrus butter tangled with the salt of the sea, as a breeze swirled through the small house. 11:18 AM. Late, really late. I suppose it was only 9:18 back in Tahoe, but still, I was feeling like a slob. After being in bed for close to sixteen hours, a shower was all I could think of. Herbal shampoos lined the blue, tiled shower, filling the steamy bathroom with a soft, spicy scent of plumeria. Above, a rectangular skylight, letting in the sun as I scrubbed away my troubles.

  “It’s fine. It’s fine… it’s fine,” I intoned, singing out the words in whispered rhythm. “You’re fine. It’s all Daniel anyway. So, if you unlock the alarm, nothing will happen. Someone will notice and relock it.” It all made perfect sense.

  White towels hung at the edge of the glass-enclosed shower, which I wrapped around me as I stepped out. Each detail carefully thought out when planning our bungalow visit. Hibiscus face spray and lavender night creams, rejuvenating citrus masks, and peppermint foot rubs. Every luxury toiletry I’d ever imagined impeccably displayed in a tall white cabinet beside the glass sink. Taking my time to avoid realities, I rummaged through my luggage for my white and gold bikini—slowly dressed and ambled into the kitchen. My wet hair free to dry in the breeze.

  “You feeling better? I made pancakes and vegan bacon. I was thinking beach, maybe a bit of surfing, a couple’s massage. Surprise tonight?”

  “Surprise? What surprise?” I asked, knowing that his surprises had been purely sexual in the past.

  “You’ll see!” His accent made everything sound romantic and pleasant, as though whatever it was, it was exactly what I needed. I studied his heavily built form as I thought, wondering what harm it would do to continue our bucket list. We were in the middle of nowhere, and no one knew our location. Plus, Daniel didn’t have the means to get to Hawaii. I knew that for sure. Also, if I were to stop the bucket list abruptly, it would cause suspicion, and I didn’t want to raise concern.

  “I think… that sounds like a fun day,” I conceded, carrying a pile of stress pancakes onto the lanai.

  Like a postcard in a shop I’d never been too, the scene laid out in front of us. A crescent-shaped beach with hollowed coconuts washing on and offshore, and puffy white clouds perched perfectly still in the light blue sky. Wild chickens clucked and called back and forth in riveting conversations as waves splashed against the lava rocks that decorated the coastline. Matteo carried two surfboards from the house to the beach, each a matching blue and green with an orange streak down the center.

  “I hope you’re a good teacher!” I said playfully with my hands on my hips. “I’ve never done this… like nothing even close to this.”

  He lifted his head and pushed out his chest, as though he were a champion surfer, “Lucky you, getting me to show you then.” He laid the longboards out side by side on the sand. “First, you want to wax the board, so it’s not as slippery. Then, lay on your board and paddle out by cupping your hands. When you see a good wave, wait till it lifts the back of your board, stand up and ride.”

  I twisted my lips, puckering them out slightly while shaking my head, “Totally! Easy!”

  “Here, watch me,” he bragged, carrying his board into the water.

  Moments later, a three-foot wave caught his eye. Turning around, he began paddling towards shore. Then, the lift. He stood and immediately fell—crashing into the crest as the board still attached to his wrist, went flying into the air. Laughter bubbled up inside of me until I was bent over hysterical. He’d been so sure of himself.

  “Ha. Ha,” he said in a monotone voice, plodding back towards the shore. “I’m rusty; it’s been a while! Let’s see you,” he poked, ready to flunk me out of surf school.

  Carrying the board out, I sat as I’d seen in movies, with my feet dangling off the side, looking like a snack to sharks—waiting for the ‘perfect wave.’ A small, two-footer was coming. Determined to be a surfing prodigy, I turned my board around and paddled. Patient for the lift, but before I could pull up onto my feet, the wave overtook the board and sent me crashing off to the side, loosening my top just enough to put on a show. Not saying a word, Matteo swaggered over to meet me at the shore, pushing himself against my chest—my exposed nipple, rubbing against his salty pecs.

  “I’m not gonna want to share you tonight!” he trilled, wistfully flirting.

  Share me? So, he was setting it up — the guys. I started to panic. “How do you check these people? I mean, how do you know they’re safe and not going to… How do you know you can trust them?”

  A crease grew on his forehead, “I trust Erik; he’s been with me forever. He checks everyone out beforehand. You’d be surprised how easy it is to find interested people.”

  “But what if Erik wants to… Can he be trusted?”

  “He can be. Plus, he doesn’t know why I’ve gathered these people. I have him check everyone. And I’ve never done this kind of thing before. Why the sudden worries?” He stood with his hand in the pocket of his board shorts, brushing at his chin.

  “Oh. No worries. I don’t know. Just curious. Let’s try these waves again,” I said, anxious to change the subject.

  The winds had picked up, and waves were coming larger than they had been. Though, neither of us were ‘catching surf.’ Instead, we were drinking seawater by the gallon.

  Matteo dragged his board up onto the golden sand, “I think we should call for that massage. I’ll have to teach you on a day when it’s not so windy.” He laughed, letting his chest muscles wave with his core. Despite his lack of knowledge, he did look good beating along the beach, tousling his hair to the side as he jogged towards the bungalow.

  An hour later, we were laid out on tables beachside under the wet Hawaiian sun. The swish of the ocean against the shore mingled with the gentle chirp of birds, as we felt the long flowing strokes of the Lomi massage. Our thoughts, erasing gently with each touch. Slowly, the masseuse scanned our bodies for congested areas, then dispersed them with her palms and thumbs—working lightly, then digging deeper into our muscles. Contentment fell from my lips as each knot dissolved. The scent of coconut and ginger tickling my nose as she massaged warm oils along my shoulders and upper back. Two hours felt like minutes as she finished up, gathering my hair into her hands to lightly scratch and rub the plumeria oils into my scalp. Her fingers softly tap dancing against the sensitive nerve endings at the base of my neck. This was something I could get used too — massages on the beach in the late afternoon breeze.

  “Anything you don’t want to do tonight?” Matteo asked, taking a large bite of greens
. I’d been content to think only of Lomi massages and surfing for the day. Though I loved our bucket list, a twinge of nerves built with uncertainty… given the circumstances.

  “No… I’m game for anything,” I answered, my voice shaking gently with tension.

  He reached for my hand across the patio table. “You’re still having fun with all this, right?”

  “Yes, of course. I love seeing you so excited. It turns me on so much.” That was the truth. I’d never felt more sensuous, more desired. And the bucket list gave us an excuse to keep our antics up.

  After dinner, we drove to The Grand Seaview Hotel on the northernmost tip of the island. The sun had set, and torches had been lit along the walkways, setting a tropical mood as we entered. Erik had left the key in our rental car earlier in the day, so we searched for our room and went in.

  Matteo took his time closing the blinds, checking for cameras, and plugging in his dim wall lights, setting the scene for our rendezvous. In the bathroom, I freshened up, calculating the chances that anyone would know what we were doing. Everyone was over three thousand miles away; we were alone.

  “It’s probably just Daniel anyway,” I said to myself, continually reminding my brain that he was the reason for all of this. Moments later, I heard the door.

  “Can you get it?” Matteo asked, still dressed but perched in the darkness.

  Nervous and regretting ever bringing the bucket list into our lives, I answered the door. Standing tall at the entrance was another god — this one of Polynesian descent, in his late 20’s. Wavy black hair touched his bulging shoulders covered in cultural tattoos. Tattoos that swirled in a pattern down his dark skin and onto his muscled arms. He stood rippling in the doorway as I got lost in my inspection.

  “Aloha, I’m Alika.” He pulled at his black tank top, shifting to deflect the bulge in his shorts. He was already excited.

  “Please. Come in,” I managed, clearing my throat. I hadn’t thought this would turn me on, not like this. But suddenly, the idea of having four strong hands on my body sent me into overdrive.