Rogue Wave, Isabel Jolie [ink ebook reader .TXT] 📗

God, to be that young and optimistic.

“You’ll be gone in less than a year, right?”

She reached between us and tugged on my half-erect cock. “That’s a year away. Who says you and Jasmine won’t move with me? She’s going to need a bigger community and friends. Let’s take it day by day. See where life takes us.”

I watched the magic of her hand, pressing my hips into it.

“Tate?”

“Yes?”

“Look here. In my eyes.” I tore my gaze away from her hand. “I fell in love with you. I don’t know what it will be like a year from now. But how about we take each day as it comes? Together, okay? And I wouldn’t try to be a mother to Jasmine. But I’ve thought about it, and I can still be an important person in her life. I can be a mentor or a friend. I can be a woman she can rely on. You care about her, and you are giving her a new life. And I can be there for her too. No matter what happens between you and me, I can be there for her too. For both of you.”

And fuck if I didn’t explode in a completely different way.

Some time later, I kissed my girlfriend goodnight, promising to deliver her golf cart to her in the morning. My girlfriend. It felt like a juvenile label, and clearly the hormones had engulfed my head, because I felt a strong urge to magnify that descriptor.

It wasn’t until the gravel ground beneath my feet as I made my way back to Jasmine that the reality of what I’d agreed to weighed down on me. Taking it day by day made all the sense in the world at twenty-two. But in my thirties, with an adopted teenager, it didn’t. Did it?

My phone glowed on the countertop as I closed my front door with care. I tiptoed inside, overly cautious given Jasmine slept three floors above.

I picked up the phone, expecting a goodnight text from Luna.

My entire body froze. Ice.

Photo after photo. From an unrecognized number. Jasmine on the golf cart. Jasmine eating an Icee. Jasmine on a surfboard. Luna on the path beside my cottage. Luna and me on the beach. Earlier tonight.

Chapter 30

Tate

I dropped my phone. Plastic cover on tile. The thud shattered the dark’s stillness. Three by three, I ascended the stairs. With a shaky hand, I twisted the knob on the third floor. A body lay sprawled out on the bed, covers kicked off.

I gasped for air. Relief overflowed. Her chest rose and fell in peaceful slumber. I closed the door. Stopped by the second floor and locked my balcony door. Double-checked the locks on the double-hung windows overlooking the bedroom balcony. Reason informed me the lock on the door and the windows were essentially useless, as all someone would need to do was shatter the glass and step right through. Downstairs, I repeated the futile process, locking the windows we opened and closed throughout the day and never locked. But with that text, everything changed.

We weren’t safe here. But we’d be safer together. I jumped on the cart and pressed the accelerator flat down, garnering as much speed as one could on an old battery-operated golf cart. The faint hum of the battery engine blended with the shrill cry of crickets and the dull, constant beat of waves.

As I ascended the hill to Luna’s, the beacon light from the ship offshore caught my attention. I shivered. I rammed my fist against Luna’s front door while simultaneously twisting the knob and discovering it unlocked. She popped up in bed, rubbing her eyes.

“Come on. Get your stuff. You’re coming back with me.”

“What?” she asked, dazed.

“You’re in danger.”

“Huh?”

She wasn’t moving. Panic flooded my thoughts. I had to get back to Jasmine. An empty suitcase rested in the corner, and I flung it open, then one by one, opened the six dresser drawers and threw items in.

“Grab your toothbrush. Whatever you need.”

She sat on the bed, head cocked sideways.

“Now. We’re going. Now!”

She flinched. Then moved. She exited the bathroom with a toothbrush wrapped in toilet paper on one end. She threw it in the open suitcase, and I zipped it up.

“Let’s go.”

Barefoot, in a t-shirt that fell mid-ass, she followed me out to the golf cart. I turned and almost lost it.

“It’s winter. Shit, Luna.” In a flash, I re-entered her cottage, snatched up her coat, and threw it at her.

The icy wind penetrated as we sped back home to Jasmine. Luna’s sleep fog lifted.

“What’s going on?”

“They’re on the island.”

“Who?”

“Zane’s men.” The ship’s beacon seemed to follow us along the street. An eerie awareness lingered. The panic gripping my ribcage eased as the street sloped downward behind the rows of houses dotting the shoreline.

“What do they want?”

“I’m going to guess money. I don’t really know.” But those photos. I knew his tactics. We used them in ports to grease negotiations. He wanted something. Those I loved were collateral.

“What…I’m so confused.” She ran a hand over her face.

“He texted me tonight. Photos of you and Jasmine.”

Understanding dawned. She slid closer and held on. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pulled her into my side.

When we arrived at my cottage, all seemed as I had left it. I unlocked the front door, and we tiptoed in. I pointed to the stairs and followed her up. On the landing, she turned, awaiting my direction. I pointed to my room. Then I remembered the balcony and grabbed her wrist, forcing her to change direction to the guest room on the other end of the hall.

Fuck. I didn’t know what to do. The guest room didn’t have a bed. Only a desk. I’d been using it as my office. Jasmine’s room had twin built-in beds. That high up, they’d be safe from anyone breaking windows to get in.

Once again, I changed course and redirected Luna.

“You’ll stay with Jasmine tonight,” I whispered.

“What about you?” She circled my wrist, tugging to slow me