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As I neared the boat I noticed the security presence. I might not be on the guest list, but that wouldn’t stop me from finding a way on board. With one last glance at the boat, I hid behind a stack of crates by the vessel next to Killian’s. I crouched over to stay out of sight and cursed the cramp squeezing my thigh at the odd angle I had to hold myself.
Within a few minutes, the guard was called away when a deckhand asked him to come over to look at something. I sucked in a deep breath and ran toward the gangway. The stupid tight muscle in my thigh had me hobbling the last few steps up the ramp before they noticed me.
Once on board, I struggled to quiet my raspy panting so I wouldn’t stick out even worse than I already did with my jeans and casual sweater. The women surrounding me were dressed to the nines and looked like they’d stepped off the cover of some fancy fashion magazine.
Crashing Killian’s party had been easier than I expected. I really needed to talk to him about his lackadaisical security. I’d helped employ Peter’s detail for the last six years and I had excellent contacts within the industry I could refer him to.
I plucked a glass of champagne from a startled server as I attempted to blend in and pretend I belonged here. It wasn’t unlike the parties I attended with Peter.
A tinkling of a woman’s light laugh distracted me, causing my head to turn her way. My attention landed on the willowy brunette with her arms entwined around a man and I stumbled.
Killian.
She had an hourglass figure most women would die for and moved with a sensuousness I envied. Her hand grazed his arm and his jaw. While subtle, I recognized she was marking him as hers to the guests surrounding them.
When he kissed her, my stomach clenched and twisted into a painful knot. I gripped the stem of my glass so tight I thought I might snap it in half. I was comparing myself to her effortless charm and sexiness. Perceived and imagined.
I stopped myself short when, without thinking, I’d moved toward them with the sole intention of pulling her off him and scratching her eyes out.
Oh, my God! What was I doing?
I transferred the glass to my free hand and I shook out my cramped fist.I had no claim over him.
When Killian tugged himself free from that woman, the knot in my stomach unfurled the tiniest bit. I didn’t want to look too closely at the fact that the further he moved away from her the lower my shoulders dropped. I snuck along behind him, putting to use the skills I’d gained so long ago when Peter and Killian had tried to go somewhere without me.
My head swiveled as I took in the scene and kept him within my sight. Killian had spared no expense. This yachtwas incredible. Every tiny detail was exquisite. The clean contemporary lines were softened by intricate detailing. Very likely, the decking was handcrafted teak, a warm, natural contrast to the white hull. Amidst the beauty of the ship, there were clear entertainment zones throughout. The spacious deck had dove gray chairs and loungers spread throughout in locations to take advantage of the view, a built in bar with a marble countertop and stainless under counter glass storage, and a jacuzzi nestled off to the side.
Guests were spread out among the opulence. A live band played, and a few people moved their bodies sinuously to the music on an impromptu dance floor. Others were talking in small groups, and a few couples were making out.
My eyes widened as I took in the number of people openly doing drugs. I wanted to run my hand over the wooden rail and look out over the quickly darkening sky, and forget where I was or what I was doing, but my gut demanded to stick close to Killian.
I wasn’t sure if it was that I needed additional proof of the life he’d slipped into, or if I thought that maybe I could stop him from this madness. Either choice seemed hopeless.
I kept my distance and tried to hide discreetly behind a potted plant when he stopped to talk to a group of intense guys. When I got a few weird glances from nearby couples I snagged another glass of champagne from a server as he meandered through the crowd and deposited my half-finished one on his tray.
The plant really hadn’t been a good hiding spot anyway.
An air of danger oozed from the guys Killian was speaking to. It was more the way they carried themselves than how they looked. And every few minutes, their gaze swept the crowd as though expecting someone to disturb them. Or maybe it was to discourage anyone from approaching. An icy chill slid down myspine as I noticed more than one gun being carried between them.
What had my old friend gotten himself mixed up in? This was far worse than I could have imagined.
I kept my eyes glued to the group. I analyzed each movement, trying to understand Killian’s involvement with them. He never raised his voice, but suddenly his body grew taut and the air around the men filled with tension. A wave of fear hit me as I realized I was a helpless observer and I hated not knowing what to do.
Then they all laughed about something, and the guy Killian was talking to motioned to the table in front of them. When Killian bent down to sniff the line of white powder, my heart stuttered. I’d heard rumors about his drug use, but I hadn’t believed it. The entire time I knew him, he refused to touch drugs after they’d destroyed his family.
Disappointment in him and the burst of rage resulting from it pushed me to walk away. I couldn’t bear to see any more of this. I made my way below deck. My mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Part of me wanted to run back up there, to confront him, to shake him until the Killian I knew emerged. But the other part, a part I was ashamed of, wanted to pretend I hadn’t seen anything. To cling to the image of the boy I’d known, the one who’d always promised to protect me.
Who had promised to protect himself.
The room I’d settled in was bigger than the bedroom in my apartment. It had to be the primary suite, as it spanned the full front of the yacht with panoramic windows. A huge bed that looked larger than a king was positioned to capture the best view of the sea. The bedding looked far too luxurious to be microfiber, and I couldn’t help but compare it to my purple bargain comforter at home.
This was just another reminder at how different my life was to Killian’s.
A delicate glass chandelier hung from the ceiling, and I had no doubt that if it wasn’t night that the glass would cast prismatic reflections across the custom furniture within the room. Against one wall a handful of guitars hung, framing a small piano.
I paced the room, debating whether or not I wanted to still confront Killian. Or if I even wanted him to help me with Peter. Recreational drug use was one thing. But I’d seen how quickly careers fell when someone got in too deep.
I’d always thought Killian was different, better than that. He was falling rapidly from the pedestal I’d placed him on.