“No. No, you don’t,” I said frantically.
“But you’re treatin’ me like one if you think I’m going to listen to your bullshit.”
I shook my head. “No bullshit. That island is way more valuable than I told you. It’s a fucking gold mine. That’s why they wouldn’t let me leave.” Another lie. I’d chosen to stay. I was in love with Rook, and when he gave up his vows, knowing he and the lagoon would die, all just to be with me for a few short weeks, I couldn’t leave him. Not even if it killed me to watch him wither away. Only, I found out that he’d lied about Cici and how that lagoon really worked. Now it all made sense—the way that water beckoned me in my sleep and showed me things, like my sister, to lure me in. It wanted my blood, just like Rook’s aunt had said.
Warner pulled a gun from his waistband and pointed it at my face. “I gave you two weeks and two chances to deliver on our deal. I don’t give thirds.”
“Wait!” I held out my palms. “I can get you more than just the island.”
Warner paused and started to laugh. The three men behind him joined in. “Your time is up, Stephanie.”
“Rook has money, too. A lot of it. It’s how he’s been able to conceal the island for so long. Think about it. With so much technology and satellites, how does he keep it off of maps or the internet? Why hasn’t a country claimed his land? It’s because he pays people off.” I could have mentioned the fountain of youth, but Warner would just think I was certifiable. At this point, my only shot was appealing to his greed.
Warner’s espresso-brown eyes twitched with suspicion, and he flashed a smile. He was a pleasant-looking man in his mid-fifties with classic Italian features—a straight nose, dark hair, and a disarmingly handsome face—but when he smiled, there was nothing pleasant about it. One hundred percent sinister.
“What proof do you have?” he asked.
I have nothing. “I had to run. They were going to kill me.”
“You ran home from an island.” He bobbed his head of thick dark hair. “Don’t think so.”
“I snuck onto one of their private planes with some of the employees. Rook is kicking everyone off and shutting down the resort, which also means it will be that much easier for you to take it.”
Warner crossed his arms over his beefy chest. “So how you plannin’ to take us there? Because I’m guessing you still don’t know where the island is.”
I knew the island was somewhere near the Bermuda Triangle. But, no, I couldn’t lead a boat or plane there. I had another plan.
“They’ll come for me,” I said. “I know too much, and they want me dead. All you have to do is wait.” I didn’t believe Rook really wanted me dead, but what did that matter? He killed my sister, or at the very least, he was involved. It was the sort of thing I could never forgive, so as far as I was concerned, Warner could have Rook and do as he pleased. Cici, my older sister, had been my best friend and the only one who loved me in this world. She gave up her own childhood to raise me while my father was off traveling the globe as a war journalist, trying to escape the grief of my mother’s death. Cici was the closest thing I had to a mother, and Rook took her from me. How could I ever love a man like that?
He has to pay.
Warner let out a sinister laugh. “Nice try, sweetheart, but this is your last sunrise.” He reached for my arm, but I snapped it away.
“If you kill me, you’ll never see your one hundred thousand dollars again. But if I’m right, and they come looking for me, then you can force one of them to take you back to the island. You can make them show you where all of their money is and tell you everything you need to know about the place. What have you got to lose?” Obviously, not much, though even if Warner agreed, there was nothing to stop him from killing me once he got what he wanted. My only goal was to live another day. Somehow. Someway.
Warner’s greedy eyes flickered with intrigue. This island was the key to his illegal operations making a lot of money, but only if they could keep the island off the grid. That meant knowing whom Rook paid off. Having Rook’s money wouldn’t hurt either. But now that Rook had broken his vow, he was aging fast. So was his aunt. If they didn’t come for me soon, they likely never would.
Unless Rook takes his vows again. But would he? Maybe that was why his aunt had tried to grab me. I was leverage to force Rook to bring the lagoon back.
“They pull in over five million dollars a week,” I added. “That’s twenty million a month, at least.”
“I can count, you little bitch,” Warner snapped. “And I’ll give you a week—that’s seven days in case you were wondering when we’ll be slitting your throat if they don’t come lookin’.”
“You’ll probably slit it either way. But at least you’ll be richer.”
“You’re not as dumb as you look.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. I was, after all, sitting inside the trunk of Warner’s car, hoping to live long enough to see Rook pay for hurting Cici and breaking my heart.
“The only catch is you have to make sure they know where to find me,” I said.
Warner shook his head. “I ain’t gonna leave a business card at your house.”
“You’re going to call my father. Tell him I took money from you and now you want it back with interest. Tell him you’ll kill me if he goes to the police, and be sure to give him your name.”
“Why would I do that?”
Because after Cici died, Rook went to see my father. He offered to help in any way possible, including money. “My father knows Rook. He’ll have nowhere to go for that much cash. And once my dad tells Rook your name, Rook will find you.”
“How?”
Because Rook’s clientele were some of the wealthiest, most powerful people in the world. Especially the ones who’d paid a million dollars to swim in the lagoon. “He knows people. A lot of people. Rook will find you.”
If he didn’t, then I would simply die without justice for Cici.
CHAPTER THREE
Rook
“James, come on. You’ve been in bed for three days. You can’t do this.”
I looked away from Luke and gazed out the window toward the billowing white clouds. To most, having such a view would seem like a small thing. For me, this was the sort of luxury I’d been deprived of most of my life. This two-story mansion, with its well-appointed kitchen, large master suite, and pristine antique furniture, had always been for show—just another prop on an island built around creating illusions to conceal the truth. The truth was that monks took vows of poverty, which was why my real home for the last fifty years had been a modest, windowless room next to our underground archives. Before that, a leaky wooden shack filled with mosquitos and no running water or electricity. Brutal in the summer. This was my island, yes, as were the millions of dollars in the bank. And, yes, during the day I wore fine suits and played a role to protect it all. But at night, when the guests retired to their five-star bungalows to sip chilled champagne, I retreated to my real life and paid penance for every sinful thought, every lie, and every rule I broke out of necessity. An hour of prayer followed by hours of self-flagellation, per Father Rook’s scriptures. Most nights I whipped my back down to the bone, which forced me to swim, heal myself, and repeat the cycle the next day.
Anyone telling me to return to that loveless life of self-sacrifice, obedience, and denial can go fuck themselves. I might not have Stephanie, the woman who lit up my entire world the moment I laid eyes on her, but at least I was finally free, and this lagoon would never be a threat to her or anyone again. I had to find peace in that, even if I would die never knowing where she went or why she left. She’d been consumed by our connection just as I had.
“You’re aging faster than you should. You need to get outside and breathe fresh air. You need to eat.” Luke crossed his arms over his chest. I noticed he had on his board shorts and a T-shirt.
What the hell do you know? You’ve been surfing all morning. But that was how this all worked: I paid and they lived.
“Leave. I do not wish to speak.” I rolled over, giving Luke my back. Like the others, he only wished to persuade me to retake my vows—something I would never do in a thousand years, if a thousand lives were at stake. I had done my part for the world. “I don’t wish to live any longer. Accept it. Make your peace with your demons and leave me alone.”
“So you’re committing suicide because a woman left you.”
I snapped my head in his direction, feeling my neck bones crackle with age. I looked and felt the equivalent of eighty years old now, my hair completely white. “How dare you. I have lived two hundred and thirty years. How can dying at my age be suicide?”
Luke’s hazel eyes narrowed. “You’re giving up when you have the option not to. Isn’t that the same thing?”
I looked away, back toward the window and my peaceful clouds—anything to keep my mind off Stephanie or avoid this ridiculous conversation.
“You think I’m just being selfish, don’t you?” Luke grumbled.
I didn’t see the point of answering, so I didn’t.
“Fine, but I couldn’t care less about myself. I’ve lived ninety-five years. I’ve loved. I’ve discovered. I’ve led a mostly happy life all thanks to you and this island. I couldn’t and wouldn’t ask for more, but there are people out in this world—good people, people you handpicked to live so they’d have a chance to change things for the better. Now you’re robbing them of the opportunity to make their lives mean something more.”
“Opportunity,” I spat. Fuck opportunity. Fuck this life. Fuck everyone. I’d spent the last two centuries believing that my “opportunity” meant something, that it was worth the price because ultimately I was helping women connect with their hearts and souls. For an exclusive few who’d lived worthy lives, I’d chosen them to live longer. “A constant drip of water on a stone is more powerful than a single flood.” That was what Father Rook used to tell me when I was a boy. He believed that he and his small group of monks, living in obscurity on a remote island, could influence the entire world. Love would prosper, equality would be the norm, and suffering would be the exception.
A damned pipe dream wiped out by a ship full of savage men who cared for nothing and no one. Father Rook was a fool, but I was a bigger one. I’d picked up where he left off, believing that anything objectionable I did would be forgiven because the miracle of the lagoon was proof; we were doing God’s work.
But we weren’t, and Stephanie showed me the truth. Not all sins could be washed away with a whip or prayer.
“Go, Luke. I want to be left in peace.”
“I can leave, but peace is something you’ll never have until you do right by those who put their faith in you.” Luke headed for the door. “See you in the morning.”
“I hope to be dead by then.”
“With the rate you’re aging, you just might get your wish.”
He slammed the door behind him, and if I said my miserable soul wasn’t troubled by the pain I was causing him, it would be a lie.
But what did he expect of me? Humanity couldn’t be saved. We were slaves to money, lust, power, and greed. I was no better or different. I had served Stephanie lie after lie, simply because I wanted her for myself. That was greed not love.
I closed my eyes and began drifting off, focusing on the comfort of darkness awaiting me. I was so close to dying, I could taste it.
“James,” said a male voice I scrambled to place.
My eyes flew open to find a tall figure lurking in the shadowy corner. He wore a tattered brown robe with a hood that obscured his face.
“I wondered when you might show up.” I dropped my head back down on the pillow.
He raised his hand, gesturing for me to follow. I knew exactly where he wanted me to go and what he wanted me to do.
“I’m not going to the lagoon. I’ve made up my mind and will tell you what I told Luke: Make peace with your demons.”
His form faded just as quickly as it had appeared, but I knew Father Rook would not be so easily deterred from his mission, one that should’ve died with him two hundred and twenty years ago when I was just ten. But was this truly the legacy he’d hoped for with his dying breath? Generation after generation paying for the sins of their forefathers? The monks here founded this island after fleeing persecution for preaching radical ideas such as equality, an end to all slavery, and showing love to your fellow man. They believed that one day, all of humanity would be judged as one, our evils weighed against our goodness. Father Rook and his brothers prophesied that it would all come down to one act, one heart, one person’s selfless love to tip the scales and save us all.
Dreamers. Love couldn’t save anyone any more than I could save the world by being a monk and running a resort for women.
Stephanie
Racking my brain, I limped in circles over the cement floor of the tiny room Warner had put me in several days ago. Given the bloodstains on the walls and the foul toilet that had never been cleaned, I knew this was a place no one walked out of. I had four days left before Warner would kill me.
Such a difference from where I was a few weeks ago. My first week on the island, I’d been posing as a guest while really searching for Cici, who’d won an all-expenses-paid trip in the back of one of those magazines. Now that I thought about it, why would Rook even do a giveaway? The island was a secret, and their only advertising happened through word of mouth, though guests had to sign a nondisclosure. I supposed Rook figured people would still talk but be more careful. But a giveaway?
He probably used them to lure specific people to the island without rousing suspicion. Yeah, it’s your lucky day! I’d bet my life—what was left of it—that it was no accident that Cici won that trip. They’d wanted her to fuel up their goddamned fountain of youth. But how’d they know Cici was a match?
My mind drifted to Rook’s underground archives. They’d been keeping records for hundreds of years, which now included DNA samples from the more recent guests. They told their customers it was some fancy STD test, given all of the sex people had during their fantasies. But now I knew they needed rats to feed to their bloodthirsty lagoon. I was a lucky rat, escaping just in time.
Not so lucky. Look where you are. I sighed and sat on the tiny cot pushed against the wall. It was the only thing in the room without stains, but that was because the cushion had been removed, leaving me to sleep on wire mesh. I get that you want to kill me, Warner, but couldn’t you at least let me get a good rest before I die? And do I need to contract a disease from the toilet in my final hours?
“Asshole,” I muttered and forced myself to lie down. The metal dug into my bare back, but I had nothing to cover it. I still had on my black cocktail dress from the night of the farewell party.
Too exhausted to care, I closed my eyes, and my mind immediately dove straight to the hollow spot inside my chest. I’d give anything to make the pain stop. The truth was, I’d never felt more complete than the first night I spent with Rook, after he found me in their castle. He had disappeared for a week, leaving me in charge. When he returned, that was the moment I couldn’t take it anymore. Missing him had been too much. I gave in. “So you’re not a monk anymore,” I’d said, “and now you’re asking me to do what?”
“To be with me.”
My insides had fluttered out of control while our eyes remained locked on each other. Goddammit, he’s so beautiful. And the way he’d made me feel was like nothing I’d ever known. A sense of fate or rightness mixed with passion.
I swallowed down the lump of nerves in my throat. I knew I was about to take a giant leap, because there were still so many unanswered questions, but like him, I couldn’t fight it any longer.
“Yes,” I whispered.
He leaned in and kissed me hard, his strong hands cupping my cheeks.
I kissed him back and began pulling at the front of his shirt, tearing buttons and frantically loosening his tie. He quickly shrugged off his coat and shirt and then lifted my shirt. He said n
othing, but the carnal look in his eyes was pure hunger. For me.
Lucky him. Because I’d never felt so fucking in need of giving myself.
Rook pulled me down to the floor onto the furs. In front of the fireplace, we kissed, grabbed, and panted like beasts.
Rook’s mouth broke away, and his lips trailed down my neck and collarbone. His hand cupped my right breast while his mouth covered my left nipple. I felt him hard and ready against my thigh, which sent my body off a cliff. The hollow, fluttering ache between my legs became a scorching need.
“I think the last three weeks count as foreplay,” I panted.
He smiled up at me, and those two deep divots puckered in his cheeks. “But it’s my first time. I want to savor it.”
My breath stuck in my throat. “Fuck, you’re so sexy.” A man like Rook knew everything there was to know about sex—he’d seen it all. He had a keen sense of what women wanted. But now, it was my turn to show him what he’d been missing.
I rolled him over and straddled his body, letting him play with my heavy breasts. His eyes stayed glued to them as he ran his thumbs over my tight nipples, and I rocked my hips gently over his shaft, which was still covered by his pants. He groaned deeply, but I didn’t want him to spend himself like that. Not this time.
I moved to the side, getting on my knees, and unbuckled his belt. Staring into his fiery eyes, I unzipped his pants and reached inside. His long, thick cock felt tight and hot in my hand as I stroked the velvety flesh.
His eyes fluttered shut, and he groaned. That was a sound I’d never grow tired of. Sexual, animalistic, hungry.
I bent my head and kissed the head, circling my tongue over the ridge of the crown. He tasted like male, musky and sinful.
As the scent of his pheromones flooded my bloodstream, a rush of violent desire charged through me. I wanted this man in me, on me, touching every inch of my skin.
I opened my lips completely and enveloped his cock in the heat of my mouth.
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