Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
“It’s dangerous, Cort. He’s your son. If there was any kid in this camp they’d try to snatch, it would be him or Ainsey. He knows that.”
“Just because he knows it doesn’t mean he understands what it means. And you know what we were like at his age. Very, very sure that outside of that Ring, no one could touch us.”
“Still can’t.” Which makes him smile, I can hear it. “But it’s for the best. Can you come get him now?”
“Anya and Zoya have the Jeep—they went grocery-shopping at the farmers’ market in Juparanã—but they should be back in a couple of hours. As soon as they get here, I’ll get on the road.”
“OK. We should still be here, but if we’re not, I’ll see you when I get back.”
“Later.” He ends the call and I go out onto the terrace and lean against the railing, sipping my protein shake and staring down at all the stupid people on the beach below.
They have no idea. No idea at all what’s happening right under their noses.
Normally I feel disdain at their ignorance.
But today… I feel a little jealous.
It sucks that Evard needs to be reminded of the sick world that exists just below the surface.
But it’s better to be safe than sorry. And even though Irina is still alive—and probably fine—it’s just luck that it turned out that way.
And we all know this.
CHAPTER 20
Irina comes out of my bedroom wearing the new clothes. I try not to stare because it makes her uncomfortable, but she looks very pretty this morning. So different than the girl I saw in that shop poster. But to be fair, everything I do seems to make her uncomfortable, so I just give in and look at her all I want.
“God, Eason. It’s like you’ve never seen a woman in shorts before. Get out more. You live in South Beach, for fuck’s sake.”
I just smile at her.
She hobbles over to the counter that separates the living room from the kitchen and takes a seat on a stool. “There’s a hole in your plan today.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“My stitches.”
“What about them?”
“I can’t swim with stitches.”
“Says who?”
“Says Maart.”
“You called him for advice?”
“No. That’s just the rule.”
“Well, Irina, my stitches are silk, not gut. The water won’t bother them.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“Then you don’t need to worry about it. And anyway”—I lift up a small white aerosol can—“I’ve got liquid bandage. You just spray it on and it’ll be fine, don’t worry.”
“Maart would not approve.”
I take a few steps, closing the space between us, and lean into her, my lips touching hers for a moment, my eyes open, hers as well. “Maart wouldn’t approve of this, either.” Then I kiss her.
And this is yet another new kind of kiss for Irina to wonder about. Something small. Easy. Quick. I pull away again, grabbing some keys out of a small metal bowl on the counter. I jingle them, glancing at her, then shove them into my pocket, pick up the can of spray, offer it to her—she takes it—and turn my back and crouch down a little. “Hop on, Irina. It’s a piggyback.”
After a small hesitation, she places her hands on my shoulders and I grab her under the knees and hike her up onto my back, walking towards the door.
“I’m missing a flip-flop. What if I need it?”
I walk back to the counter and lean over. “Grab it.”
She lets out a breath, then a laugh, and relaxes a little as she picks it up.
The ride over to the marina is short, just a few minutes, even in traffic. I piggyback Irina to the boat and set her down in the cockpit while I get us ready to shove off.
When I come back inside, she’s standing at the entrance to below deck. But she turns when she hears me. “It’s nice.”
“Did you go down there?”
“No. The stairs are steep and I’d have to hop it.”
“It’s just one cabin and a little living space. I’ve had nicer boats than this, but this one is nearly new and all the others were used up.” I take the helm, flipping the seat down and pointing to the space next to me so she can sit.
There are other places she could settle, but she accepts my invitation and sits next to me, our shoulders bumping as I start the engine and ease us out of the slip.
It’s a nice slow ride out to open water and we’re quiet. Just looking at the beauty of this place.
When we get to the ocean, I speed up and head south. It’s windy and a little bit loud, so we don’t talk. About thirty minutes later I spot a sandbar with lots of boats all around it.
Irina stands up to get a better look, holding on to the railing to brace herself. I glance over, side-eyeing her reaction as we ease into an open spot along the sand. Then I kill the engine and we float forward.