”Don’t be inappropriate, son,” he warns. “You should learn some respect. No wonder she runs from you.”
I nod my head, a slight grin slipping free. It’s not very often I feel the urge to smile. But on those rare occasions when I do, it’s because a certain type of madness is being unleashed.
“I know how to catch her,” I drawl, then I glance down at his wooden leg. “Can’t say it’d take much to get away from you, stronzo.”
Despite what many would believe, I’m not one to fight. Most aren’t stupid enough to push me to that point, and I’ve never fucking cared enough to get that angry anyway. Yet, at this very moment, I’m imagining the different ways I could make Sylvester squeal like the pig he is.
And as much as I want to, I know better than to risk getting kicked out more than I already have. I need Sawyer somewhere warm and safe; this place is only safe as long as I’m around. I’ll be fucking damned if I leave her alone in this lighthouse with a goddamn lonely creep. I know the sick fuck jacks off to the thought of her, and if I ever hear or see it, I’ll remove the useless appendage my-goddamn-self.
I push away from the counter and walk past him, glaring down at his much shorter stature as I pass. He keeps quiet, even as I climb the steps.
But I don’t miss his muttered words right as I reach the top.
You haven’t been able to yet.
Sawyer is dressed in a t-shirt and her bathing suit bottoms when I walk into the room, curled in a tight ball with her back to me.
Careful not to wake her yet, I grab the lighthouse book lying haphazardly on the floor. She reads it every night before going to bed, and every morning when she disappears to her cave, I do the same.
We’re both quietly determined to find the beacon. I would guess she doesn’t trust Sylvester any more than I do. There’s something off about him and this crumbling lighthouse. Too many people have died here, and the common denominator for those tragic events seems to be Sylvester. And I’m less inclined to believe it’s simply bad luck.
Now that he’s taken an interest in Sawyer, I’m even more determined to get her off this damn island.
Just as I sit on the edge of the bed to read, Sawyer’s soft voice pipes up.
“There was a boat yesterday.”
My head snaps to her quick enough to break it. “Come again?”
“It was too foggy for them to see us. But ships come by here more often than he implied, and I think if we find the light, we can figure out a way to get their attention next time. At the very least, I’m sure you have people looking for you. Maybe we can see about reaching out to one of them to rescue you.”
My brow furrows, and I stare at her while I process what the fuck she just said. She’s staring sightlessly at the stone wall, and it feels like looking at the real Sawyer. The one who isn’t as bright and chipper as she would like people to believe.
“Me?” I repeat. “You mean us?”
Her lips tighten. “I think I might stay here,” she says. “I know you asked me to choose you, but choosing you means dragging you into the mess I’ve created. If I stay, I won’t need to steal from anyone anymore. I won’t need to keep running.”
I’m shaking my head before she even finishes the first sentence.
“Absolutely not,” I bark, shooting to my feet. There’s a restless energy buzzing in my bones. My fists clench and unclench, a useless attempt to abate the way my body is beginning to vibrate.
She doesn’t move. Doesn’t look at me. She seems tired in this moment, and I know… I know it has everything to do with me this time.
“You want to keep me because you hate me. I get it,” she says quietly. Emotionlessly. “You want to punish me because I remind you of your mother. But please, just give me this. Give me freedom.”
“This isn’t freedom,” I argue. “This is just as much a prison and one that could get you killed.”
She shrugs. “So what if it does?”
I glower, my fury growing hotter.
“Don’t do that. Don’t suddenly give up when—”
“Didn’t I already tell you? I’m a coward, and I run. If you care about me at all, Enzo, you will let me stay here. Bringing me back to Port Valen… you’re asking me to either go to a real prison or go back to stealing.”
I’ll take care of you.
The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t voice them. We hardly know each other, and we’ve spent most of our time together fucking, fighting, or just trying to survive. We have little trust in one other, and fuck, she’s a goddamn fugitive. I don’t see how a future could possibly work between us. Yet, the thought of leaving her behind is enough to send me into a blind rage. The thought of going back to Port Valen alone… without her—it’s unfathomable.