Page 17

Leah

When our heads had finally stopped spinning and our breathing had returned to normal, Maxine rolled off me and flopped onto her back with a sigh.

She stretched out on the mattress, hair fanning out around her, and closed her eyes. “I’ll be passing out now.”

I snorted a laugh, overly aware of the sticky wetness on my inner thighs. “Just like that?”

“Yep, just like that.” She hummed, tip-tapping her feet in the air where they stuck off the bed.

I chuckled again, but a single thought struck me and the laughter quickly died in my throat. Beneath the lingering warmth of our bodies and the afterglow of an earth-shattering orgasm simmering in my veins, I felt like a traitor.

You are a traitor, I reminded myself, the guilt coiling tighter in my gut.

While Maxine dozed, her eyes closed and her guard lowered, I lay wide awake, grappling with the implications of what we’d done. What I had done.

She had no intention of ever going home, and from the terrified note in her voice when I brought it up, she clearly had a good reason. The more she’d opened up, the more I realized how damning my role in all of this was.

Yet here I was, lying next to her with my dress still bunched at my waist, our ankles hooked and our hair tangling together. I was the one who invited her into my bed. I was the one who kissed her like the world was ending. I was the one falling in love with her all over again.

I was the one suspending a knife over her back.

Every part of me wanted to protect her, wanted to tell her the truth. But the threat of her family loomed too large in the background, a collar tightening around my throat. If I disobeyed them, if I failed to bring Maxine back, who knew what they would do to the only real family I had left?

Her mother and her brother, when they’d turned up at my house that day, hadn’t just threatened me.

They’d threatened my grandfather. I saw the damage those claws could do, and the hungry way they sniffed around the house, taking in our scents.

Running hadn’t been an option. They could have followed us anywhere.

There was no way to explain the situation to my grandfather either, and he was too old to be uprooted from his home in San Francisco where he’d lived for the past fifty years.

I exhaled shakily, draping an arm over my forehead as I stared at the low ceiling. Maxine stirred, mumbling something incoherent beside me, then settled again. How the hell is she asleep already? I tried not to move, afraid I’d wake her and she’d see the turmoil dancing in my eyes.

How do I make this right? The question plagued me, demanding an answer I didn’t have.

My rational side argued that I should distance myself, that indulging in this relationship would only make the betrayal worse when it finally unfolded.

But how could I step back now, when her lips were still pressed into my memory, when her touch still lingered on my skin?

I had to find a way out, though I had no idea how. My grandfather was everything to me but… so was Maxine. How could I possibly choose who deserved my loyalty more?

I couldn’t bear to lose her, I realized, a burning ache settling in my chest. Not again, not after what we’d just shared. The prospect of ending things now, of letting her vanish again, tore at my heart in a way that felt violently wrong.

Yet, the ominous shadow of her family stood between us, looming like a menacing figure in the dark.

A soft snore escaped my bedmate, breaking the suffocating hush.

I rolled onto my side and blinked at her.

She looked so vulnerable, so small where she sprawled out on the wrinkled sheets.

Her dress was crumpled around her, spaghetti strap slipping off her shoulder.

I watched the rise and fall of her chest, chewing on my lip.

It would be so easy to pretend that nothing else existed outside this small cabin, no powerful family, no looming threats, no impossible choices.

But they did exist, and they weren’t going away anytime soon.

I shifted onto my elbow, leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of her head. Maxine mumbled contentedly, smiling in her sleep. Despite the knot in my gut, I had to savor the sweetness of the moment. Whatever came next, at least we’d have this.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered the words that went unheard and unacknowledged. But the apology felt necessary, even if it was only for my own guilty conscience.

By morning, I’d have to decide how far I was willing to go for her, and how I’d face the consequences if I turned my back on the deal that had upended my life.

As I curled myself around her, burrowing into the crook of her neck, I realized I would do almost anything to keep her safe. But the fear of what might happen if I stepped out of line and crossed her family was enough to set my pulse racing all over again.

So I lay there, torn between the taste of her skin and the dread of betrayal, fighting sleep like it might steal away the last little bit of peace we had together.

Sometime later, I rose from a deep doze into the hazy realm between dreaming and waking. Maxine’s arm lay draped across my waist, her breath soft and steady against my shoulder. The cabin was still, illuminated only by a faint glow of moonlight filtering through the curtained window.

The neon face of my dinky little alarm clock told me it was 4am.

I lay there, wondering what could have possibly woken me this early, and then I heard it again – a sound that raised goosebumps on my skin: quiet, mocking laughter drifting over the water.

My pulse kicked up as a jolt of alarm shot through me and I eased myself free from Maxine’s hold, heart pounding in my throat.

Careful not to disturb her, I shuffled to the edge of the bed and peered out the tiny window, half-expecting to spot some ominous clawed figure lurking along the dock. But the harbor was silent and empty, dotted with the occasional light from other boats that rocked gently on the water.

No sign of movement, no mysterious watchers in the night. Just the faint lapping of waves under a sky sprinkled with stars.

A moment later, another burst of laughter rang out in the distance, echoing across the still water. This time, it sounded more like raucous voices – maybe late-night drunks stumbling home from a waterfront bar.

My shoulders sagged with relief and I felt a flush of mild embarrassment at my own jumpiness.

Still, the flicker of worry didn’t entirely fade as I returned to Maxine’s arms, the mattress springs creaking softly beneath me. Her earlier concerns floated through my sleep-addled mind, her conviction that someone was keeping tabs on her. On us.

I nestled in close to her and tugged the bed sheets up to my chin. Maxine murmured something incomprehensible in her sleep and coiled around me, tucking her head against my chest.

My eyes drifted shut, but the lingering tremor in my pulse remained.

I tightened my hold around her, allowing the gentle sway of the boat and the warmth of her body to lull me back into a restless slumber.