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by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff


  “Fuck you, you fucking piece of shit!”

  I walked away, knowing I would have to pay penance tonight. But the joy of this revenge was a sin worth the one hundred lashes.

  I exited the cave and locked the outer door behind me. One threat had been dealt with, but what would come next would be the most difficult thing I would ever face: getting Stephanie safely off this island and saying goodbye forever.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Rook

  I entered my two-story plantation-style house with the whitewash paint, large porch and black steel storm shutters. If homes could be placed in museums, this would be a prime candidate. Originally built by Father Rook and his monks with their own hands, it had been knocked down by storms over seven times. The last time being thirty years ago when we constructed the underground offices and staff housing. Like everything in that project, no expense was spared to make it withstand any hurricane. Lucky me, since I’ll be trapped on this damned island forever.

  I entered the stained-glass front door and proceeded up the staircase. On the second floor was my aunt’s old bedroom along with mine.

  I knocked on her door, but no one replied. “I know you’re in there,” I said. After several long moments, I turned the knob and spotted her standing at the window, her dark hair, which was always worn in long braids, was wound around the top of her head. She wore her favorite cotton dress with blue and white flowers. Originally from Martinique, she was a beautiful black woman with soulful eyes, high cheekbones and full lips. I could hardly look at her and not feel pain. She was my stepmother’s younger sister, but they could’ve been twins. And for the years my aunt and I spent together, the wars we’d waged and the pain we’d endured, I couldn’t think of a woman stronger or more deserving of my loyalty than her. Until she betrayed me.

  “Why? This is all I want to know,” I said.

  She turned toward me, her face a vision of contemplation. “You mean da girl.”

  I nodded.

  “I think you know di answer, James.”

  I walked over to the edge of the bed closest to the window and sat to face her, clasping my hands in my lap. “I know what you want me to believe, but you forget who I am and what we’ve been through together. We know each other better than we know ourselves.”

  “Yes, and you betrayed me and everyone bound to this island just so you could get laid.”

  Not true. Her words were an emotional diversion. “Letting me live my life was fair after all I’ve given. And you, my dear sweet aunt, are no killer. You couldn’t hurt a damned fly, which is why I was responsible for choosing the ones to be sacrificed. So why lure Cici here?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Because you wouldn’t, and Father Rook needed fresh souls. You kept waiting for the perfect candidates.”

  I shook my head and rose from the bed, placing my hands on her shoulders. I loved this woman like a mother. She’d been my only family for years, before I found Luke rotting in an institution. World War II had left him broken. Nevertheless, if my aunt truly believed she could get away with taking people, good people, she could think again.

  “You and I both agreed that the lagoon can’t go on forever. We talked about it a million times.” I bowed my head. “We talked about what I should do if I were to meet someone I loved as much as you loved Father Rook.” It was tradition for our monks to start a family later in life so that we could pass on our beliefs.

  She looked away, her eyes tearing. I could tell by the rigidness in her jaw that she didn’t intend to speak on the matter.

  “I know you love me like a son. So why the betrayal, Aunt? Why try to hurt the one woman who’s brought me peace after a lifetime of loss, denial, and paying penance? Why kill her sister, someone who never should have been on the list?”

  My aunt’s jaw clenched hard, but she continued staring out the window, her eyes fixed on the horizon.

  Why is she holding back?

  “I’ve retaken my vows,” I said, “and I will keep them as promised. Stephanie will be told the truth, and I will ensure she’s been given everything I can to help her move on. But I will not pursue a life together with her, if that’s what you’re afraid of.” I accepted that saving her closed the door forever to that kind of happiness. “Which is why I’m here, ready to resume my duties and bring in the guests. All I ask is the truth. Why take Cici?” She must’ve realize that the chain of events she created had nearly killed us all. There had to be a reason.

  She stared out the window, her dark eyes vacant.

  “Very well, Aunt. Just know that going forward, this life you’re now living and the journey you’re on, you do it alone. I will keep my vows, yes, but I don’t care about Father Rook’s legacy. I do not agree that one innocent life is worth ten or twenty or a hundred. Not after the loss I’ve watched Stephanie endure. So from this day forward, in my eyes, you are the sinner. You are a murderer who steals lives for your own gain.” I leaned in, filled with deep, bitter anger. “You belong in that cave with Captain Smith.”

  Her head whipped in my direction. “You take dat back.”

  I couldn’t because it was the truth. Nevertheless, I wasn’t a heartless man, willing to point out the obvious simply to win this debate. Never in a million years would she have given up her child to our lagoon, so why was it okay for us to take someone else’s son or daughter? Why couldn’t she see that these people, no matter what they’d done, were someone’s child, sister, mother, or brother. And when they died, we stole the possibility of their redemption.

  “The truth is, Amancia, we are no longer doing God’s work. And if we continue, we are exactly like those men who took everything from us simply because they could.”

  “Leave. Leave, you foulmouthed bastard. You know nothing of what you speak. Your cock is telling you lies.”

  “No. My cock is pretty honest about what it wants—I’d trust it over you any day.”

  She gasped. “Fuck you.”

  “No, fuck you. And you will refer to me as Father James.”

  “Fine. Fuck you, Father James.”

  “Do not forget who connects you to your beloved, Aunt.”

  Her dark eyes twitched. “What do you mean wit that?”

  “I mean that while I retook my vows, I never promised to live forever. I can still die.”

  She drew a sharp breath and pulled back. “You wouldn’t.”

  “No one touches Stephanie. You don’t let her near that water. If you defy me, you will find out the lengths I’m willing to go to punish you.” If I had to suffer without the woman who made my soul ache and burn with desire, then I damned well better be certain she would still be safe.

  My aunt’s dark face turned a pale shade of brown. “I will keep my promise.”

  “Good. Then we both have work to do, so I suggest you get to it. We should plan for guests to arrive in a week, and we need to call back our hosts.” Yes, we would get on with business, but my aunt would soon learn that I wasn’t going to have anything more to do with that lagoon.

  A battle for another day.

  I left the room feeling more distraught than ever. A poison had come into our lives, and this time, we couldn’t rid ourselves of it. The events could not be undone, trust could not be unbroken, and my heart could not be put back whole. This next chapter of the island would no longer have any purpose to it besides serving selfish agendas. Mine was to protect Stephanie and get her as far away from me as possible. Not only was it unsafe here, but resisting my need for her would be impossible. She had to go before I did something I regretted.

  Stephanie

  Every time I thought that I couldn’t possibly feel life more sharply or painfully than I did, something came along to prove me wrong. Yesterday, it had been being beaten, facing Rook, and watching some poor chef die. Today, it was…well, everything. And now, in the moment, it was the sound of Rook’s masculine voice thrumming in my ears and sparking my racing heart as he stormed into the apartment I’d occupied while employed here j
ust a few weeks ago. I wasn’t ready for this conversation.

  “Stephanie! Are you in here?”

  “Be right out,” I called from behind the closed bedroom door. “I’m getting dressed.” I’d left my things behind when I’d fled the island. After the doctor checked me out, I came straight here for a long hot shower and clean clothes.

  With my wet hair wrapped in a towel, I went into the adjoining bathroom and swiped my hand across the foggy mirror. “Damn, I look like hell.” Washing off the blood had only made the swelling on my face more obvious. I had cuts on my cheekbone and lip, and my right eye was purple. Then there were the other injuries that weren’t so obvious, mostly the spots on my body that had spent some quality time with a brick.

  Fucking Mr. Classy. The world was a better place without him, Warner, and those other thugs.

  “Stephanie! We need to talk,” Rook called out impatiently.

  Ugh. I wasn’t ready. With Rook, it was just too damned complicated and painful. The things he’d done. The things I’d done. Everything we’d been through…

  “Just a moment. Okay?” My hand started to shake as I took the towel from my hair. I still felt like Warner would burst through the door at any moment and kill me. I hadn’t seen him die. What if he got out?

  No. Stop. Rook wouldn’t let that happen. My mind jumped to the protective man outside the bedroom door who’d made me feel every possible emotion in the space of twenty-four hours. I thought I never wanted to see him again. I thought I hated him with everything in my soul. But the moment I saw Rook in Warner’s warehouse back in Queens, my heart felt like it might burst from my chest, run across the floor, and fling itself into his arms. He looked so beautiful, so perfect, and I missed the way we felt together. I missed…him.

  No. You miss the dream of him. The fantasy. But if that were true, then why—for that one split second, when I thought the blood on Warner’s knife was Rook’s—had my love felt like so much more?

  “Stephanie? Please tell me you’re all right.” Rook’s deep but tender voice rumbled through the door. “Please talk to me.”

  “Be right there.” I grabbed my black tank top, panties, and cutoff shorts. These were the same clothes I’d brought with me when posing as a guest almost four weeks ago.

  I pulled my wet hair into a knot at the nape of my neck and drew two deep breaths before opening the door.

  Rook sat in the small living room, his large body taking up most of the khaki sofa. He wore a navy blue T-shirt, snug around his pecs and biceps, and worn jeans. Dammit, Rook. Don’t you have a crappy brown robe or something to make you look less sexy?

  Then, like he didn’t even notice the cuts and bruises on my face, he beamed at me with those hungry, cool eyes.

  A quiver ripped through my stomach. He still had so much power over me.

  Trying to keep myself calm and levelheaded, I sat in the armchair across from him. Distance was good. “All right. What do you want to say?”

  “I know you hate me, Stephanie,” he said, jumping right in. “And I don’t blame you. I will never blame you—only myself. Nevertheless, know that I would move heaven and earth to change the past if I could, because what we stole from you wasn’t fair. It never should’ve happened.” He leaned back, but kept his intense gaze locked on me. There was a hint of vulnerability in his expression that made my heart ache.

  “Then why?” I whispered. “Why Cici?”

  “I don’t know, which only makes her death that much worse.”

  I looked up at the smooth plaster ceiling, praying for the strength not to come undone. Anger. Sadness. Despair. They all bubbled beneath the surface. But I had to have closure. I needed to know what he knew.

  “Make a guess,” I said, meeting his intense gaze.

  “All I know is that my aunt wanted her to come here. She arranged it so that Cici would win a vacation. She altered your and your sister’s DNA tests so I wouldn’t know about your bloodline. She refuses to tell me why, but believe me when I say that I wish, with all my heart, I had an answer.”

  I threw my hands in the air. “So that’s it? I’m supposed to feel better now? She has to pay.”

  “I doubt you’ll believe me, Stephanie, but every breath she takes is penance. She’s endured the kind of things no woman should have to. And she sits by that lagoon every day, tormented by the fact that whatever is left of the man she loved is trapped inside, and there’s nothing she can do about it.”

  “Well, then maybe she should die.” I felt dirty and spiteful for saying it aloud, but my anger was overwhelming.

  Rook nodded slowly, rubbing his hand over his dark stubbled jaw. “And some day she will die. But for now, she is in her own personal prison.” He drew a slow breath and exhaled. “This is no consolation for your loss or for the fact I lied to you. But I always believed Cici came here on her own and that the test, which would’ve told us about her lineage, failed due to a fluke. Had I known the truth, I would’ve handled things differently. However, you must know, the lies I am responsible for were because I wanted to spare you from further pain, and because I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you to something I couldn’t change.”

  “You benefited from her life being taken.” They still sold their services after she died.

  “Yes.”

  “And I am just supposed to accept that? Be okay with that?”

  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs and lacing his strong hands together. “No. Nevertheless, it is the truth, and I feel it’s my obligation to give it to you, Stephanie. Because despite what you think of me, I love you. More than you could possibly imagine. Which is why what I’m about to say is so difficult.”

  His calm expression shifted to something that put me on edge—shrugged brows, jaw muscles tight, and flat lips.

  Pins and needles exploded over my skin. Very little shook him, so whatever he was about to say definitely fell into that category.

  “Do you remember when you told me about your father?” he asked.

  “No.” So much had happened. Everything was a blur.

  “You once said he abandoned you and your sister after your mother died. He ran from war to war, leaving you alone to deal with your grief. I’m sure you felt unloved because of that, and I think he knew. I think he wanted to somehow make it up to you.”

  Huh? “What are you talking about?”

  Rook hissed out a perturbed breath. “Like me, all he wanted was for you to have a shot at a happy life, which is why you cannot waste this chance.”

  Wanted? He spoke in past terms. Why? “What the fuck are you saying, Rook?” I raised my voice.

  “Your father came to the island so that I could give him your ransom. But then Warner demanded I come to him. Only me. In person.”

  “So…so what are you saying?”

  “Your father wanted you to know that he loved you. He was sorry he wasn’t strong enough to be there when you needed him, but he gave everything to save you.”

  I cupped my hands over my mouth. “No. No. No. Please don’t do this to me.” Rook didn’t need to spell out the rest. I knew that someone had been given to that lagoon so that he could be young again. I just never imagined it was my father. Oh, God. No.

  “My love,” Rook’s eyes filled with regret, “he did it. And he did it willingly despite all protests. I assure you. He loved you very, very much.”

  My heart shattered into a million ice-cold shards. “I-I-I fucking hate you, Rook.”

  Rook

  It pained me to hear those words, but I knew this would be the outcome. My only hope was that over time, Stephanie might put the past behind her and take this chance she’d been given to live a good life. A happy life. Above all, I hoped someday she’d see that what her father and I had done was for her. He certainly didn’t want to die, and I was violently opposed to living my life again as a monk and allowing the lagoon to continue. Something I once justified had become my personal hell.

  “Stephanie, he may not have be
en able to stop your mother’s or your sister’s deaths, but losing you would have been his last straw. As it would’ve been mine. We both did what had to be done, and we both did it for you.”

  The hate in her eyes turned to pain. “Please, please for fuck’s sake, tell me you’re joking. He can’t be gone too.”

  “There was no other way since I was the one Warner wanted.”

  “I did this.” She dropped her face into her hands.

  I fully understood her guilt. She’d set out to find justice for Cici, only to weave a web that cost her father. But that was only part of the truth.

  “Do not blame yourself, Stephanie. This all began because of my aunt.” I stared across the coffee table at her.

  She lifted her head. “But I made my own choices. Me!”

  I got up, walked around the table, and kneeled in front of her, putting us eye to eye. “We all did.”

  She began to sob uncontrollably. It pained me to see her like this. She’d suffered enough, yet there was nothing I could do.

  I scooped her into my arms, carried her to the bedroom, and laid her down on the soft white comforter. Like a wounded animal, she curled up in my arms, burying her face in my chest.

  “I would give my life to erase your pain, Stephanie. I am so very sorry.” I ran my hand down the back of her damp hair. “And I am even sorrier that you must endure this pain alone.”

  She looked up at me with wide teary eyes.

  “You cannot stay here,” I explained. “Even though my aunt gave me her word you wouldn’t be touched, I still don’t know why she did any of this. I can’t trust her, and you are not safe.”

 

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