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Reckless Girls(50)

Author:Rachel Hawkins

“’Cause I get what kind of place this is. But you and your friends? This place is gonna snap you up.” He brings his teeth together with a hard clack, startling me so that I nearly trip on the steps behind me.

That makes him laugh, and it’s the pleasure that he’s clearly taking from frightening me that makes me look toward the knife on the table next to me.

It’s for shucking oysters—not particularly deadly—but I snatch it up anyway, surging forward until the tip hovers just beside Robbie’s eye.

That laugh dies in his throat as he holds up both hands. “Alright now, baby girl.”

“I said don’t call me that.”

I edge the knife closer, my breaths coming fast. We are in the middle of nowhere. There are no rules here, no police to call, no passport checks. If I killed this man, threw his body into the ocean, sunk his boat—who would ever know?

The realization is almost dizzying. I spent months on Maui dreaming of the freedom of the open seas, but I never really considered its darker side. Out here, we’re untethered. Which means we can do anything.

I could do anything.

“Look, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Robbie says now, backing away.

I see his dark eyes flicking nervously between the knife and my expression.

He’s afraid of me.

I lower the blade, nodding. “Good.”

As I step back, he shakes his head. “Who knew you had that in you, girl? Tell me, which one of those fuckers would you eat first?”

He jerks his head toward the beach, toward Jake and Eliza and Nico and Amma and Brittany, and I’m sick to my stomach all of a sudden, wishing I were anywhere but here.

“Fuck you,” I say, but it’s weak, and he just laughs again.

“No shame, little girl, no shame. I’m just saying, when it comes to beating Meroe, I’d put my money on you every time.”

With that, he pushes past me, heading up the stairs, and I hear a splash as he dives over the side.

I’m still shaking, and I almost drop the bottle of wine I pull out of the fridge. As I finally reemerge on the deck, I see Jake and Eliza standing on the shore, looking toward the boat. They must’ve seen Robbie on deck, and I lift a hand, letting them know everything is okay before climbing back down into the dinghy.

Robbie is still there, treading water and looking up at the sky, and when I motor past him, he actually smiles at me again, like nothing happened.

I look away, keeping my gaze on the beach.

Jake, Eliza, and Nico are waiting for me in the shallows.

“Why was that asshole on our boat?” Jake asks. He’s got his sunglasses pushed up, his eyes as blue as the sky above, but his expression is furious. I’ve never seen him like this before, and I shake my head.

“He was snooping around.”

“Motherfucker,” Jake mutters, looking over at Eliza, and now that I’m back on the beach, now that I’m safe, I suddenly remember Robbie’s words—–what those two must be doing to have a boat like that.

It was bullshit, just a creep who was trying to fuck with me.

Jake turns, striding back to our lean-to. He fishes around in there for a second, and then he straightens up, heading back toward us. Sunlight flashing off metal.

The gun.

“Whoa, man,” Nico says. He’s still got one hand on my elbow, steadying me. “Isn’t that a little intense?”

“I’m just going to talk to him,” Jake says, but his mouth is set in a thin, hard line.

“Jake, for fuck’s sake,” Eliza says, and he looks over at her sharply.

“What? Do you want him snooping around in there, Eliza? Really think about that before you answer.”

“I don’t,” she snaps back, “but I also think this macho shit is unnecessary and frankly a little embarrassing.”

Jake scoffs at that. “Terribly sorry to embarrass you, darling. How will you ever cope?”

“Can you two cut it out?”

That’s Amma now, her hands fisted at her sides, her gaze darting between the shore and the rest of us. “He’s coming.”

Robbie is making his way into the shallows now, water running off his skinny body, his cutoffs dark with it, and Brittany steps closer to me.

“Did he say anything to you?” she asks. “On the boat?”

I don’t know why I don’t tell her—or any of them—all the shit he said. Maybe I don’t want this tense situation to escalate more than it already has. And it’s not like he hurt me or anything. I held my own, and even now, I remember how it had felt, holding that knife on him. Seeing that littlest bit of fear in his eyes.

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