I can’t.
My stomach twisted and I looked over my shoulder. Freedom. I wanted it. From him, my memories, everything that had happened. I wanted to go back to the simplicity of treating animals and knowing where I existed in the world.
But that was also a lie.
I didn’t know where I belonged. I worried I never would.
Sarah was only part of me. Who knew what the other part was.
I squirmed in Kill’s hold. Looking up into his fierce face, I begged, “Please… don’t do this, Arthur.”
His green eyes flashed. “Stop asking me that. I’m sick of hearing it. I’ve told you why this has to happen and there’s nothing that will stop it.” Jerking me close, he clamped his hands on my waist. “It’s over, Sarah.”
With powerful arms, he picked me up and swung me over the side of the boat. “And you never learn. My name is not yours to use. I’ll be glad when you’re gone, so I don’t have to keep reminding you.”
Ouch.
My heart twisted as my feet landed on the rough bottom of the vessel. The gentle bob and sway of the tide made me instantly nauseous and craving solid ground.
With my balance compromised, I gripped the side of the boat.
Glaring at me, Kill threw his leg over and jumped aboard. Planting a heavy hand on my shoulder, he marched me toward the back bench and pressed me into a sitting position.
The skipper watched us but didn’t say anything. Instead, he leapt into his craft, turned the key, and pushed off from the dock.
The whirr of the motor curtailed all conversation and the whip of the wind stole tears from my eyes. Within minutes we were out of the harbor and bouncing on waves—the loud slaps of water against the hull echoed in my ears, drowning out my thoughts and rapidly building fear.
Do something.
Like what?
I had no idea how to stop this. The momentum only gathered more inertia the more I tried to prevent the inevitable from happening.
Jump overboard.
And what, suffer death by shark?
I hated that there was no way for me to run—only crystal turquoise ocean and me with no ability to walk on water.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked, loud enough for my voice to carry.
Kill didn’t make eye contact, staring at the horizon. “To your new future.”
A chill that had nothing to do with the whipping wind darted down my back. “I can’t make you let me go? You would never have to see me again. You don’t have to do this.”
He shook his head. “I told you. I’m not the one doing this.”
I crossed my arms as the warm Florida sun turned cool with sea breeze. “What do you mean exactly?”
When he didn’t answer, I snapped, “The least you can do is give me answers. Let me understand just a little bit, before you walk away from me.”
My gut rolled painfully.
I’ll never see him again.
He kicked you.
He almost sold you.
He’s not a good person.
So why did my soul cleave in two?
The man before me wasn’t the man I’d pinned all my hopes on. He was nothing like the boy from my dreams. It shouldn’t hurt so much to leave. He was a stranger who’d given me pleasure and granted me the right to heal him when he was vulnerable.
Nothing more.
Try telling that to my stupid, stupid heart.
He finally looked at me. “I’ve told you the most I’m ever going to say. I’m doing this because the man I’m loyal to—the man who gave me everything and understands my need for vengeance—asked me to do this for him.” Running a hand through his messy long hair, he finished, “I’m loyal to those who have proven themselves. I don’t need to know any more than that.”
I could no longer look at him.
Silence fell and I looked to the horizon, hoping for better answers.
I stood on the deck of an impressive superyacht.
The speedboat looked tiny compared to the sleek power of the black-and-silver vessel. The same motif and name Seahorse Symphony emblazoned the side and the light wooden deck with gilded with gold.
“Where are we?” I whispered to Kill.
He gritted his jaw and didn’t reply, his focus remaining entirely on the looming cabin in front. His legs spread against the rolling seas—the waves slower and bigger this far away from shore. Why are we here? To do illegal business where landlubber police couldn’t reach us? Or for a fast getaway once the transaction had been completed?
Transaction.
Even I had resorted to referring to myself like merchandise. It was easier that way—helped numb any stupid idea that I was still human. I wasn’t. I was a toy—had been the moment I stepped foot on this luxury floating prison.
A steward appeared from the interior, weathered and tanned from a life spent on the water. He wore a pristine white uniform with pleats and creases in all the right places. “Hello, Mr. Killian. We’re honored that the president himself could join us. Must say, Mr. Steel is much obliged you’ve come.”
Kill stiffened, his fingers locking tighter around my wrist, where he held me. Why he held me I didn’t know. It wasn’t like I could run anywhere. Unless I could suddenly sprout wings that I’d forgotten about, I was chained here.
“No need to kiss my ass. Change of plans. I wanted to deliver the girl myself.”
To make sure Grasshopper didn’t realize the awfulness of what was about to happen and free me.
“Well, it’s our pleasure to receive you.” The steward flashed us a smile, glowing too white and perfect. “Mr. Steel is expecting you. Please, follow me.”
My stomach knotted and I wanted more than anything to throw myself overboard and swim far away.
Kill sensed my unease. His fingers switched from my wrist to my elbow, latching tight and keeping me imprisoned by his side.
Together, we followed the steward. The only sounds were the slap of my flip-flops, the screams of gulls, and the gentle kiss of water on fiberglass.
This nautical world. This foreign dimension.
It’s my home now.
My hair fluttered with the wind as we traversed the pristine deck, past a spa and outdoor bar, and traded sunshine for the shade of opulent walnut and carpeted interior.
My heart thundered as Kill yanked my elbow, jerking me from my safe zone of pressing against him and into the limelight and center stage.
Tears were thick molasses in my heart, forming a ball in my throat—slowly choking me.
The dimness of the sitting room took a while to become clear after the glare of sunshine.
Kill noticed him before I did. His body hummed with aggression, tempered by civility. “Mr. Steel.”
“Pleasure. Please, come in. Come in.” The voice was far too posh and overly cordial. Fake. Imposter.
My instincts told me to bolt—that this wasn’t a sumptuous vessel but a nest of vipers.
Kill carted me forward, even though I tried to lock my knees from obeying. He shot me a look, growling under his breath, “Behave.”
Stumbling forward, my eyes struggled to pick out the features of the man who would become my owner. He sat with his legs stretched out, reclining on a designer chair in the middle of the gorgeous oceanic room. He held a martini glass and wore a crisp linen suit.
Kill nodded. “I’m running low on time. Let’s conclude this quickly.”
My already broken heart shattered further. He couldn’t wait to be free of me. To never look at me or relive his sins again.
Heartless bastard.
Mr. Steel saluted us with the martini glass. “If that is the case, we shall begin momentarily. We mean to catch the tide, too, so a quick agreement would be valuable to all.”
My eyes bugged. Who was this asshole who spoke as if he had descended from the queen? His pronunciation was impeccable. I studied him harder, drinking in the bleached-blond hair, trimmed goatee, and piercing black eyes. His skin glowed from sun exposure but he
didn’t have wrinkles. I struggled to estimate his age due to the obvious cosmetic surgery and Botox. It was impossible to truly know.
Kill strode across the thick carpet, dragging me unwillingly closer.
The closer we got, the more I sensed the sort of man the buyer was.
He had class—stinking of violence beneath the expensive aftershave.
He had suaveness—evilness hiding behind oiled perfection.
But in his prettiness lurked a disease that sent my heart burrowing in my chest. He was sin personified and I wanted nothing to do with him.
Coming to a stop before him, the buyer’s eyes slithered down my body.
I fought the urge to shudder and look away.
“Fantastic first impression.” His attention went first to my tattooed leg, then my burned one. Curiosity etched his face.
Kill breathed hard beside me.
The buyer sat taller in his chair, his voice dropping to a demand. “Show me more.”
What?
Kill suddenly let me go, moving behind me. My stomach twisted and I gasped as his hands came around me, undoing the fastening of my dress with swift efficiency. “Kill—”
With nimble fingers, he yanked the wraparound bronze dress off my shoulders, giving me no choice but to relinquish it.
I couldn’t believe he’d done that. He was so cold, so detached. He didn’t believe I was the girl from his past but surely I meant something? We’d slept together. I’d healed him. It took a special type of person to block all that out.
Someone whose been trained to do it for years.
“Intriguing,” Mr. Steel said, throwing back the rest of his martini.
I bit my lip in horror, clasping my arms over my chest, dressed only in the awful gold bikini. My scars were on display—the treasure of my tattoo visible for all to see. I hated him seeing me—studying me—making me feel cheap and nothing more than something to buy and sell.
My scars itched, almost as if new fire singed me from the buyer’s horrible inspection. My tattoo was all color and shadows, coaxing his eyes away from my ugliness toward the artisan beauty I so adored.
“She’s unique.” He placed his empty glass on the side table, then rubbed a finger over his mouth. “Your colleague gave nothing away on the phone and I can see why.” He smacked his lips together. “I like her.”
Kill stiffened beside me. Every muscle locked down; he’d become a pissed-off statue. The biker lord had gone, swallowing back his given right to rule and accepting a different hierarchy.
He wasn’t in charge. And he wasn’t dealing well with it.
“You don’t say much, do you?” Mr. Steel asked suddenly, looking at Kill.
Kill narrowed his eyes. “What’s there to say? You like her. It’s done. The deal was already arranged—it’s a matter of a signature and it’s finished.” I couldn’t tell if he was pleased the client approved of me or furious.
Mr. Steel chuckled. “So impatient.” Looking between the two of us, he added slyly, “If I wasn’t mistaken, I would say you wanted off my yacht due to this woman.” His lips spread over his sharp teeth. “What happened between you two? I’m not in the habit of accepting used stock.”
My cheeks flared.
“Nothing,” Kill growled. “Now, are we done or not?”
Mr. Steel chuckled. “Temper, temper.”
“Finish it. I have to go.” There was no emotion in Kill’s voice, just indifference.
Indifference?
It was worse than hate. Worse than anger. Indifference was the blankness of all feeling—the place where people went when emotions were too much and they gave up.
My ridiculous hope that he would change his mind evaporated—wisping away with a heavy sigh.
I’ve been so stupid. So unbelievably idiotic to stay. I should’ve shot him when I had the chance.
“Fine. If you’re so in a rush, let’s move over to the bar and begin.” The man stood, moving through the expensive world of teals and greys. The décor was stunning. Masculine but feminine, with hard lines of dark wooden furniture and graceful curves of hand-blown glass statues.
I moved without waiting for Kill to direct me. I never wanted him touching me again.
The bar was surrounded by bottles of expensive cognacs and whiskeys, all glowing amber in the sun streaming through the window.
Kill didn’t want me. He was in my past. So I forced myself to forget about him seething beside me. Instead, I invested all my attention on the buyer—Mr. Steel. He was my future, my enemy, my penance for sins I couldn’t remember. I had to study him and understand how to survive.
What did he keep hidden beneath his white linen suit? What secrets lurked behind his black eyes?
You don’t want to know.
He was wealthy—I knew that much. There was no doubt I would live a life of luxury for however long I pleased him.
Until he throws you overboard to the sharks.
The thought came and went, sending a gust of ice down my spine.
Buying and selling women for whatever reason wasn’t right. He had no ownership over me—no matter how many numbers existed in his bank account.
“Drink?” Mr. Steel asked as he pulled out a bar stool.
“No.” Kill shook his head.
Mr. Steel smiled at me. “I won’t offer you refreshment, my dear. I’m sure we can find something much more fitting the moment this meeting is concluded.”
I wanted to be sick. I wanted to kill him.
I didn’t say a word.
Kill balled his hands, his back tensing beneath his leather cut and creaking softly. “Enough. Sign over what you promised and she’s yours.”
Mr. Steel narrowed his eyes, dropping into negotiation and business rather than hosting. “Fine, let’s talk.” His eyes slithered over me again. “I want her, Killian, but your price is too high.” He reclined against the bar behind him, his gaze never looking away from my chest.
I bit my lip, wishing I had the power to fly away. Be free from all of this. Fly high to find my memories.
Anger seeped through my blood like lava. I glowered at Kill. He wasn’t paying attention to Mr. Steel, his gaze locked on me, his chest rising hard. His jacket tightened around his shoulders as his muscles tensed. His reaction let me glimpse into his soul, giving away how much he deplored everything going on. It gave me power. It set little flames licking my insides.
He gazed at me with vulnerability. He looked lost and desolate and angry—so damn angry.
Seconds ticked past and he didn’t sever the connection between us—refused to look away.
As long as he stared at me that way, I could survive without memories, without the past or future. I could survive in his present and find a resemblance of happiness.
I’m her.
I’m not crazy.
Mr. Steel sneered, “Am I interrupting something?”
Kill snapped out of whatever held us prisoner. “You want her. There’s no negotiation.”
“There’s always a negotiation. You need that stock. I need that girl. But you need the stock more. So I’ll give you seventy-five percent, and I’m being generous.”
Stock?
I knew I wasn’t being traded for money—but stock? What stock? And why?
Kill crossed his arms. “No. That’s a fucking rip-off. Full control or no girl.”
I closed my eyes, letting the pink of my eyelids grant me a new world as the sun bounced across my face. I didn’t want to watch men scrabble over me as if I weren’t a living thing.
The men continued to argue but I faded them out. Kill wanted what this man had. And badly. I was his bargaining chip. My heart sank like a treasure chest into a bottomless sea. No matter what exists between us, this will be the last time I’ll see him.
The transaction would mean I would float away like a blue-blooded princess aboard this magnificent yacht to face a future of unknown sadism and slavery. While the man I wanted sold me with no hint of a soul.
“No.
Full stock or nothing—” Kill’s voice shredded my fragile serenity.
“Stop. I’m done arguing. I have questions before I agree to anything. Do not rush me.” Mr. Steel snapped his fingers. Silence fell while a steward appeared from nowhere, poured a finger of amber liquid into a goblet, and passed it to him. He faded from the room via a door hidden like a bookcase.
“Now, questions…” Mr. Steel’s eyes flashed as he took a sip of his new beverage.
Kill’s nostrils flared, drawing energy from the room just like he had back at the compound. “What do you want to know?” Grabbing my elbow, he jerked me close. We both shuddered as a crackle of electricity thrummed between us. I hated that he affected me. It wasn’t just him who wanted to be far away. It hurt too damn much.
Breathing hard, Kill shook me for no other reason but annoyance at still wanting me. “Tell me what you want to know. That she’s unique? Intelligent? Qualified in veterinary science? Or perhaps you want to know what she’s like in bed? That she writhes more perfectly than any woman I’ve ever met? That she tastes like fucking buttercup sunshine? That despite everything that’s happened to her, she’s still the strongest, stubbornest thing that refuses to be broken?”
Every sentence twisted the dagger in my heart until blood rivered inside. He used it. My nickname.
Buttercup.
I wanted to slap him more than I’d wanted anything.
Bastard!
“She’s one of a kind, Mr. Steel and if you don’t see that, then you’re a fucking idiot.” His chest rose and fell, his eyes bright and glassy.
If I’m so perfect, why don’t you keep me, then, you stupid wanker?
My heart twisted into a painful knot. “Fuck you, Arthur,” I whispered hotly. “Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you!”
Kill took a step back, eyes wide.
I turned on him, ready to attack. My nails wanted to draw his blood. I wanted to make him hurt as much as I did.
But Mr. Steel’s arm wrapped around my waist, dragging me backward. I cried out as his cold reptilian fingers kissed over my scarred hipbone.
I’d forgotten all I wore was a bikini. I’d forgotten everything but wanting to savage Arthur Killian.