Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98486 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98486 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Elder had arrived and already vanished.
I didn’t let myself sigh with disappointment. Instead, I sucked in a breath and headed back the way I came. So what, I hadn’t seen him? What did I expect? That I’d welcome him home like some besotted lover? That he would want to see me after my desire to be left alone?
As the lift opened its maw, welcoming me into its belly, I changed my mind. I didn’t want walls and ceilings to swaddle me anymore. I wanted the wildness of the sea, the snap of the wind, and the freedom of air and sky.
I WOKE TO the strangest smell.
Something that reminded me of bad decisions and stupid teenage recklessness.
Sweet and pungent and wrong.
My eyes cracked as the caw of seabirds heading to roost echoed across the night sky.
Night?
When had it become so dark?
Unfurling myself from where I’d napped in a wrapped up lifeboat, I stretched. The canvas covering the boat made a perfect hammock; I’d commandeered it after forgoing the lift and staying up on deck. It was only supposed to be for a few minutes, but it seemed tiredness had other ideas.
I don’t remember falling asleep.
Chills scattered over my arm, coldness heavy in my blood.
A noise made my ears twitch as my nose wrinkled against the familiar sweet stench. Holding my breath, I looked over the side of my twilight hideaway.
There, haloed by deck lights and stars, was Elder. He stood with his elbows on the railing looking out to sea, one ankle cocked over the other. He wore black slacks and a cream shirt with the sleeves tugged to the middle of his forearms.
He looked powerful and refined, but all of that was a lie judging by the cigarette between his lips and the cloud of smoke dispersing overhead.
He smokes?
Why had I never smelt tobacco on him?
Another whiff of earthy flavour hit my nostrils.
Because it’s not tobacco.
Marijuana.
So he doesn’t drink, but he smokes pot?
Could there be any bigger contradiction?
“I know you’re there.” His voice was low but carried weighty on the breeze. “The captain informed me of a woman dressed in black sleeping in his lifeboat.” Turning around, he inhaled more smoke, grey fog slipping erotically through his lips. “I told him I’d check it out. Make sure we had no unwanted stowaways.”
I sat up, shifting to position myself on my knees.
My tongue was half the size it was the day he left but still tender as I fought a yawn and stared instead.
He followed my eyes.
“You can ask.” His face darkened. “In fact, if you open your mouth and ask me what I’m doing with marijuana, I’ll give you the honest to God’s truth. I’ll tell you more than I’ve ever told anyone just by asking that one question.”
Silence was heavy and potent between us.
What was his truth? Why hadn’t he told anyone? What secrets could he possibly be harbouring?
Attraction that I’d ignored webbed tight around us. He breathed hard as if afraid I’d take him up on his offer while part of him begged me to. “Go on. No one knows what I am, what I’ve done. You ask, and you’ll be the first and only.” He pressed the joint against his lips, inhaling deep. “You hold all the power in this situation, Pim. One little word and all my fucking secrets are yours.”
My lips stretched to form the words, but my tongue sat heavy and unwilling. Shaking my head slightly, I looked away, doing my best to ignore the way the curling smoke from his mouth made me feel.
I never thought of smoking as sexy.
I’d grown up in an age where every establishment banned cigarettes and the culture turned it into a nasty, awful habit that was killing, not only them, but also their loved ones.
I agreed with it being a death stick, but Elder was smoking weed, a plant…he smoked it in such a way he looked like he needed it, not just used it for the sake of using.
His head cocked, waiting for me to find the balls or overcome the pain to ask.
I doubted he’d give me an opportunity like this one again. I had the power to skip ahead—to jump the superficial getting-to-know-each-other and steal his biggest confession.
After all, he owed me. He’d read my notes to No One.
He knew how I thought and reacted to pressure.
I had no idea how his mind worked, and now, my curiosity was even worse because weed was a relaxant, a painkiller in the medical world—given to those who needed help to survive.
Was he in emotional or physical pain?
And why did I want to know so badly?
He said no one else knows.
No One.
The fact he’d chosen to tempt me with the title of my salvation wasn’t lost on me. Was it a trick or the first honest to God raw reality he’d shown?