True Abandon

by Jeannine Colette

  “Don’t worry about it. This room isn’t me. In fact, I’m only keeping it warm until the big boss comes and kicks me down to a regular room. This is a company perk. I don’t need the hand-holding. I would however like a tour of the facilities, especially where this weekend’s concert will be held. I have some calls to make and a conference this afternoon. Are you free tomorrow?”

  “Yes. Our event coordinator is in tomorrow. She can walk you through the planning from start to finish.”

  He takes a step forward. He’s not very tall, but his presence is commanding. “No. I’d like you to show me.”

  I stammer, but a nervous smile forms on my face, and I’m not exactly sure why. “Of course. Does noon work for you?”

  “Noon it is.” His phone rings, so he takes it out of his pocket and holds up a finger as he answers, “Hello. Hi, Jim. Yes, hold on one second.” He puts the phone on mute. “Trish, it was a pleasure meeting you. Tomorrow at noon.”

  I bow. I don’t know why I bow, but I do. “Thank you. See you.” I closed the door quickly and pray his chuckle is for Jim on the phone and not because I just bowed, like an idiot.

  The bell boy is exiting the elevator, so I hop in and head straight downstairs. I should go to the lobby and look up everything I have planned for Eric Duvane’s stay, but my curiosity gets the best of me. I hightail it down the path, past the pool, and to the sand of Kalapaki Beach.

  Holding a hand over my eyes to shield them from the sun, I squint and gaze out. It takes a few minutes to see, but sure enough, out in the distance is Jax snorkeling with a small boat anchored nearby.

  With my hands on my hips, I try to understand why he’s so damn stubborn. There’s music coming from the Birds of Paradise. I walk in and see Isaiah and Benji crowded around the end of the bar, staring out at the water.

  “What are you guys looking at?”

  Benji answers first, his eyes trained out the window. “Shark Bait is crazy.”

  “Gringo’s been out there for two hours already. He’s going to burn like a volcano.” Isaiah shakes his head.

  “He must really like fish. He doesn’t come up for a break or anything,” Benji’s adds.

  “Two hours isn’t that long.” My words go unheard.

  “Maybe he’s looking for something.” Kal walks up with a tray in his hands. “He has to come in soon, no?”

  “My money is on another hour tops. That noon sun comes up, and he’ll be a lava cake.” Isaiah throws down a twenty-dollar bill.

  I try to interject. “It’s silly to bet money on someone snorkeling.”

  “Four hours.” Kal takes cash out of his pocket and slams it on the table.

  Benji shakes his head, enamored by watching Jax. “Sunset,” he says calmly. “He’s looking for something, and he’s not going to stop till he finds it.”

  He takes the money out of his pocket and places it behind him on the counter.

  I look back out toward Jax. If he’s looking for something, I know exactly what it is.

  …

  The day passes slowly, and I spend it at my desk, making sure the arrangements for Eric Duvane and his entourage are set.

  His company, Black Dog Entertainment, is hosting a small, promotional concert this weekend for their newly signed artist. By week’s end the hotel will be filled with the who’s who of the radio industry. I used to plan events like this when I was an assistant producer so this is well in my comfort zone.

  They have requested the small banquet room at the end of the week and have a series of dinners and meetings scheduled from the two suites. They also have a cruise around the island, and some helicopter rides planned—it’s quite the itinerary.

  While I’m hard at work, with each hour, I find myself taking a walk outside and looking into the bay. Jax has been out there for hours.

  “So, Eric Duvane…” Lani lets his name linger as she looks off in a dreamy state. “I mean, he’s no Olivia Benson.”

  “Will you please stop calling him that.”

  “No, it’s too much fun.” She grins. “Did you ask Eric to the bonfire tonight?”

  “Why would I ask him to a place where workers go to party?”

  “Because he’s fine.” Her words are said like it’s an obvious answer.

  “You’re up to no good. Keep your thoughts on Jason. You have a big dinner coming up. The meeting of the Tutu!”

  “Stop. I can’t even think about it. You’re coming, right?”

  “Yes. I’ll be there.”

  “Good.” She sighs in relief. “He’s so excited. It’s scary.”

  I lean in with a smile. “It’ll be fine. Have a good time at the bonfire, screw his brains out, and you’ll feel better.”

  Lani laughs, and it causes me to join in, too. We’re both lost in the moment when the sliding glass doors to the pool area open.

  Wearing his hot pink, hibiscus bathing suit, giant flip flops, and a snorkel pushed up onto of his head is Jax—sopping wet, fresh off the bay.

  His large feet make slapping sounds on the marble. His fist is clenched, and his eyes are so damn determined I have a hard time keeping mine off of them.

  He walks up and slams his hand on the countertop. When he lifts it, my rose pendant and chain remain on the desk with water droplets all around it.

  I look up from the pendant and back to him. He doesn’t say anything—just stares at me. His face is flush, and his eyes are widening despite his furrowed brow. The way his lips part slightly as he looks at me indicates I have the answer to his unasked question. And then the features of his face soften as he conveys a message his mouth cannot. It’s not harsh nor one of hate or trickery or anger or confusion.

  It’s a simple message.

  He’s still here.

  I inhale a shaky breath with my mouth slightly agape. I can’t do anything but match Jax stare for stare, breath for breath.

  Without another word, he turns around and walks toward the elevator. As he walks away, the bright red of his back from spending the day in the bay looking for a necklace appears, and it looks painful.

  There are guests around, each watching the strange sight of a man, covered in tattoos, walk through a hotel wearing snorkel gear and leaving a trail of water in his wake.

  And all I can do is look down at my necklace in disbelief that he found it.

  …

  “May I come in?” I knock on the door of Jax’s suite and wait for him to answer.

  When he does, he’s wearing nothing but a white bath towel around his waist. From the front, I get a spectacular view of the dragon, all brightly colored in hues of green and purple with the red and orange flames bursting from its angry mouth.

  He turns from the door, and I get another glimpse at the ink on his back—the dragon’s wings still vibrant beneath the sunburn.

  “I brought you some medicine.” I hold up the bottle in proof I came bearing gifts.

  “Thanks.” He nods to the table by the door, his look a mix of hopefulness and despair. I can’t take it, so I motion toward the couch.

  “Lay down,” I command.

  “You can just leave it—”

  “Just do what you’re told for once.”

  He obeys my orders and walks to the sofa.

  I kneel down beside him, open the bottle, and squirt some on his skin.

  “Ah, cold!” He bares his teeth, and I quickly apologize.

  “Rookie mistake.” I put more lotion in my hands and then rub them together, warming it up before gently caressing his back.

  My hand glides over the rippling muscles, and I feel every divot and glide up to his wide shoulders. I don’t want to aggravate the burn, so I put more lotion on my hands before I travel down his spine, and to his sides, feeling the way his waist narrows with two indents at the base.

  Up and down I allow myself to roam the landscape of his back, the place where he’s carried years of burden.

  “You were just a kid,” I whisper. My fingers tracing the dragon’s wings and
then the feathers that span its width. “You didn’t know what you were doing.”

  “Trish…” He starts but doesn’t say anything more.

  “I’m not being condescending or placating. I’m being honest. You were just a kid—a stupid kid, but you didn’t mean to hurt me. I know that. And I forgive you.”

  The words feel so good—I didn’t think they would, but they do. I let out a bit of a laugh so low only I hear it.

  He makes a motion to get up, but I push him down.

  “Let me finish. You have a really nasty burn.” I give him an extra lather to make sure I got everything. My fingers go back to outlining his tattoo. “I mean it. I no longer believe you intentionally hurt me.”

  This time, he doesn’t even try to stay still. He sits up and looks down into my eyes. “It doesn’t change what happened.”

  I move back and sit on the coffee table behind me. I lean into his space just as he leans into mine.

  “I know. That’s why I don’t want to keep looking into the past. I want to move forward. I might be able to forgive, but I’ll never forget.”

  “I would never expect you to.”

  “And, while the relationship we had was one of teenagers, that doesn’t mean that we, as adults, can’t be friends. Acquaintances. Whatever.”

  “Friends.” The word comes out slow and steady with a questioning tone. He nods. “I’d like that.” His teeth skim his lip as he looks down at the ground and then up to me. “I want you to trust me.”

  With a side shrug, I reply. “Trust has to be earned.”

  He nods his head, his brows furrowed in a deep v. “Give me your phone.”

  I lean back, confused. “Why?”

  He shakes his head and leans further into me. I think he’s going to hug me. Instead, he reaches around, onto the coffee table and grabs his cell phone.

  “Turn around,” he orders so I angle my body to the side and look at the dining room behind me. There’s a shutter sound and then his fingers type.

  My cell phone pings from inside my pocket signaling a text has come in. I put my hand inside and start to take it out.

  “Don't open the text,” he commands, making me turn back toward him with a jutted out chin. A coy look takes over his face as he explains. “I sent you a dick pic.”

  My head shakes with utter confusion. “What is wrong with you?”

  His hands are quick to mine in assurance. “It’s collateral.”

  This ridiculous notion make me laugh a little. “What the hell am I going to do with a picture of your junk?”

  He stares at me before laughing, too. It’s deep and soulful and music to my ears. “I have no fucking clue. Work with me here. I’m improvising.”

  “I’m never looking at that text,” I say in disbelief of what is on my phone right now.

  “Good. My boys aren’t as manly as they once were.” His dimples come out with his grin as he goes into his phone again and says, “Deleted.”

  I rest my hand in my palm and look to the side as I try to figure out how this incredibly awkward man walked back in my life and made it all feel right.

  He continues to chuckle until his body simmers down and he clears his throat. “So, I have a few more days here. Unless you want me to go—”

  “No,” I say rather quickly. “I mean, I’d love for you to stay. I can’t spend all my time with you. I have a new guest next door. Eric Duvane. He’s here on business, and I have to show him around.”

  “Another guy?” He raises a brow.

  “Ha. Ha. He works with my old boss, so I have to be uber professional.” I look outside at the setting sun and think of my plans for the evening. “There’s a bonfire tonight. It’s just locals. Well, if you consider me a local. Just a bunch of us getting together to have some drinks on the beach.” I look up at him, and for some reason, I’m suddenly rather bashful. “Do you want to come?”

  Without missing beat, he answers, “I’d love to.”

  Chapter sixteen

  Jax drives with me to my condo. He waits in the car while I change into shorts and a tank top. We arrive at the bonfire together with the plan that he’ll take an Uber back to the hotel at the end of the night.

  We arrive at the beach, and I watch as everyone’s eyes skip me and settle right in on the new guy.

  “Shark bait!” Benji yells, obviously well into the rum by now.

  Jax steps back as Benji attempts to give him a hug. His hands are up to keep the wobbly Hawaiian away.

  “Ah,” Benji says with realization. “The burn. Give me some love.” Benji holds up his fists, which Jax, reluctantly, pounds. “’Cause of you, I’m forty beans richah.”

  Jax looks at him questionably. “Aren’t you the guy who tried to kill me?”

  Benji laughs a big, loud, crazy laugh. He then places an arm around Jax’s shoulder—as high as he can get on Jax’s arm—and walks him toward the bonfire. “You need to meet me bruddahs!”

  Jax peers over his shoulder at me as he’s pulled away. At least he’s carrying the beer we bought so he can start drinking.

  “He’s here with you!” Lani squeals in my ear.

  “Don’t make a big deal about it.”

  “Nice necklace.” She fondles the rose pendant around my neck.

  I roll my eyes despite the smile on my face. “The guy spent the day looking for it—the least I could do was invite him here for a drink.”

  “Invite who for a drink?” Kelli comes up behind us. Up until this very moment I forgot she was going to be here.

  “Olivia Benson,” Lani replies to Kelli and, for once, I’m thankful she uses his ridiculous alias.

  “The Law and Order chick?” Kelli asks in confusion. Her crop top is cut just beneath her boobs leaving her tummy fully exposed.

  “It’s a long story.” I sigh, mostly because I know she’s going to have a very colorful opinion on Jax’s sudden appearance in my life again. “One I need to tell you about.”

  Kelli’s face lights up. “Sounds juicy.”

  “Sure,” I start. “You can say that. So, remember how last year—”

  “Who is that?” Kelli interrupts me, her attention not on me at all. She bends he body all the way to the side, looking around me toward the fire where Jax is talking to Isaiah, Benji, and Kal.

  Lani bends with Kelli. Together, they must look like a totem pole – one character on top of the other. “That’s Olivia Benson.”

  Kelli whistles. “Why the hell is a hot as hell man named Olivia? I’d still do him.”

  “His name is Jax,” Lani says his name with a sexy undertone.

  Kelli stands up. “I love that name. Jax.” She rolls the word off her tongue. “It reminds me of Sons of Anarchy. It’s so manly—hunky, delicious. Jax. It’s short for Jackson, right?” She fakes a shiver. “Like that asshole you dated in high school. He ruined the name Jackson for me. Until now at least because that man is gorgeous. Who wants to introduce me?”

  “You dated a Jackson in high school?” Lani raises, her dark, doe eyes now alert in keen interest.

  Kelli brushes her off. “Yeah. Some douchebag who broke her heart. We do not talk about him.—at all.”

  With wide eyes and a jutted-out chin, I visually scold Kelli for bringing it up, while on the other side of me, Lani stares at me with a tilted head and beaded expression.

  “I need a drink,” I announce and head toward the bonfire. I grab a Long Board beer from the six-pack between Jax’s feet. Without missing a beat in the conversation with Isaiah, he takes the bottle from me, opens it, and hands it back.

  “I see you’ve met my friends Isaiah, Benji, and Kalino. Gentlemen, this is Jax.” I don’t miss the grimace Kal gives me from across the fire.

  “He’s maika`i,” Isaiah says to me with his bottle in the air.

  “Yes. Jax is good people.” I give him cheers in confirmation.

  “He’s promised not tah sue da hotel, so we’re good,” Benji explains.

  Jax turns to me, his perfect g
rin shining. “He didn’t kill me, so it seems pointless. Now had he stabbed me in the eye, we’d have a problem.”

  Benji holds up a knife and twirls it between his fingers. “Nah. I’m an expert. Wanna see more?”

  “No! One show was enough.” Jax chuckles. I find myself staring at his Adam’s apple and the way it bobs with the pull off his beer.

  I take a long swig of my own, needing to cool off from the fire burning before me.

  “We were just about to tell him about the night marchers,” Kal says. My attention is pulled to the other side where Kal is staring hard at Jax.

  “We were?” Isaiah asks.

  Benji’s hands rub together. “Haha! Da’ night marchahs!”

  Jax looks at me for clarification. I’ve never heard of the night marchers, so I just shake my head.

  Kal leans forward into the glowing light of the fire. “They’re ghosts of the ancient Hawaiian warriors who roam the island at night visiting the old battlefields.” Isaiah makes a beating sound on his gut. The rhythm is steady like an army marching through the field.

  “Do not make eye contact,” Kal continues, with a long and sinister stare, the fire reflecting orange and red in his midnight black eyes. “If you hear chanting or drums, you should run inside and lie on your stomach.”

  “What happens if you make eye contact?” Jax asks.

  “You will die and be forced to walk with them for eternity.” Kal’s voice rises.

  Jax lets out a sarcastic, low whistle. “That’s some story. If I see a night marcher, I’ll be sure to stop, drop, and roll.”

  “Don’t whistle!” Kal quickly hushes Jax who raises a brow at the urgency in Kal’s voice. “That calls their attention.”

  Suddenly, there’s a loud bang that makes Jax jump, and a beating of a drum sounds from the woods behind us. Thump, thump, thump.

  “Do you hear that?” Kal asks, and his eyes dart back and forth in panic.

  “Huma, hana, Huma, hana.” The sound is coming from deep within the woods.

  My heart beats with the rhythm of the drum. Thump, thump, thump.

  Jax goes rigid. The hairs on his arms stand at attention.

  “Huma, hana, Huma, hana.”