Page 4 of Hate Wrecked

ROWAN

It was easy to pull Riley away from the man at the bar.

We both knew she didn’t want to be there with him and was exercising her right to do whatever she wants whenever she wants, especially if it means avoiding reality.

Seeing her like that pulled me back to the past. I needed that to remind myself to stay far away from her.

The walk back to her room was filled with petulant glances at each other and words unsaid. Or perhaps, words mumbled and slurred by her that I couldn’t understand.

Now, I’m exactly where I don’t want to be—in her hotel room while she wretches in the bathroom due to whatever fucking drug she mixed with her drinks. She raced there as soon as we stepped foot into her room. It wasn’t long before the puking started.

Steeling myself, I open the bathroom door and see her there, in all her disarray.

She looks so much like her mother. It frightens me, and for a moment, I’m frozen.

I don’t spring into action, and though the moment is likely less than a second, it feels as if it stretches on.

Finally, Riley looks at me, holding my gaze for a brief moment before she falls forward.

I catch her, gritting my teeth. “What the fuck did you take?” I hate my tone, but I’m so mad at her—mad at her warring and petulance and hatred toward her mother.

I wipe the sweat from her brow, and her eyes glaze over.

“What did you take? Please, Riley, tell me what it was!” I pull her body close to mine and open her mouth, looking in.

“What kind of pills? Riley, I need you to talk to me right now.”

She mumbles, her limp wrist raising just a little.

I follow the line her finger makes in the air and see the bottle of pills spilling from her purse.

“We need to get you to the hospital. You hear me?” I pull her up, her weight dead and heavy.

But this is what I was built for, what I trained for.

She isn’t staying on this fucking bathroom floor.

“No,” she mumbles, and I roll my eyes, though she can’t see it.

“I don’t care what you want, do you hear me? You’re going to the hospital.” She thrashes, and I close my eyes.

Her voice is close to my ear when she speaks again, and she’s clearer. “Let me puke, just let me puke, and I’ll be better.”

A lie. She may feel better physically, but she won’t be better. It’s been a slow-moving train on the track toward self-destruction. That’s why I was somewhat content that she and her mother are estranged. With them not speaking, I didn’t have to witness her stumble and wander down the same path.

Her mom is finally better and stronger, thank fucking God. But Riley hasn’t been able to see it; she’s been too stubborn to offer forgiveness. So now she’s repeating the same mistakes.

Riley shifts in my arms again, attempting to fall to the ground.

“Fine,” I groan, letting her down. She crawls to the toilet and stares into the water, gagging.

I lean back, my hand resting on her back.

I’ve desperately wanted to touch her again—ever since she stepped off that plane.

But not like this. Not to pull her from the depths of herself.

She wretches, and I rub her back, angry and grateful and ready to leave this fucking island.

I’m ready to take her to the airport, to complete the job.

Life is empty, but easier without her in it.

I can pretend I was never a young man falling for a forbidden mess of a girl, risking my job and my heart every moment she smiled at me.

Riley pulls herself closer to the toilet, curling in on herself, and I allow myself take in everything I’ve been pretending not to see. She’s so thin, with no life in her eyes—nothing like she was before.

I should have transferred back then, and maybe even now.

But who would give up a job protecting Desi Monroe?

No one in their right mind would turn down an opportunity like the one she gave me.

You keep your head up and do your job. That’s what I should have done back then, just focused on the job. Instead, I fell for Riley.

Finally done expelling the contents of her stomach, Riley pulls away from the toilet, pushing herself to the other side of the bathroom. She leans her head back on the wall, and I study her—sweaty, mascara running, tiny black dress hanging from her limbs.

Who was she hoping to find down there? I was supposed to be off duty, done with this. Packed for the ocean and the escape I’m due.

“What the fuck were you doing down there?” I ask, pinning her with my gaze.

She looks down, avoiding my stare. “Having fun?”

“You should see yourself. It doesn’t look like fun. You look like a fucking eejit.”

“Who asked you?” Riley sneers.

“ You did. You did when you asked me to save you, goddamnit. I’m supposed to be fucking done with you. Forever. One more fucking night, and then you were going to be gone, off this fucking island and out of my life.”

Riley’s eyes are defiant when she stares at me. “Some protector you are.”

“I did the job. I protected you during the shoot. That’s over. You can’t take care of yourself for one fucking night, Riley? Or was this a cry for help? I’m not risking the job again,” I say, shaking my head.

“Thank you for reminding me of who I am,” she whispers, and I flinch.

How could she not see what she meant to me then? How could she not see I would have risked it all for her? “You ended it, not me,” I remind her, looking away.

The silence stretches out, and the bathroom gets smaller and smaller as each breath escapes me.

I want to reach out to her and press my palm to her heart.

I want to break her open and find out what’s killing her inside.

But I can’t. I need to leave here; I need to get some fresh air.

I need to say no to things and women who drag me down into the dark.

She is that woman, the one who does it. But maybe that’s the wrong word; perhaps she’s still a scared little girl.

“Did you do this so I would tell your mother?”

Riley shakes her head. “No,” she whispers.

“Are you ever going to forgive her?” I think of the manuscript. I gave it to her. She had it with her at the hotel bar, so it’s on her mind. I did my part. I can’t make her read it, but I hope she does.

“I don’t know,” she says, looking down at her hands. She wrings them in her lap, and I know she’s lost with her mother and sisters in the past.

I wonder if she’s lost in our past, too.

I never leave there. Not really. And I can’t live with her in front of me. I need to get her off this island as soon as possible so I can breathe again.

“I hope you consider it when you get home,” I say.

Riley shakes her head. “I don’t want to go home,” her voice is a whisper.

“Then take a fucking vacation,” I mutter. “I am.”

“Will you tell me about it again?” Riley asks. “What’s it called?”

I relax a little. Her voice sounds clearer. I still think I should have hauled her ass to the hospital, and maybe I still should. But I’m not ready to wrestle with her denial again.

“Elderslie,” I reply. I’m already there in my mind, away from this, away from her.

“That’s a pretty name. What’s there, besides murder?”

I laugh a little. Peace. The great alone that I need to reset after surviving mere days with you.

I don’t say what I feel. I take the safe bet—with mystery.

Not my own. “That’s the question. What is out there?

Treasure? Shipwrecks? Who knows? Elderslie Atoll is one of the most remote places on the planet. ”

“Atoll, atoll,” she plays with the words in her slurred voice. “What’s an atoll anyway?”

I clear my throat. “It’s a ring-shaped coral reef enclosing a lagoon made up of around fifty scattered islands.” I glance at Riley and almost fall into her eyes, but instead, I turn away. “The atoll’s formation resulted from a volcanic eruption. I’ve been wanting to go there for years.”

Riley brushes the hair from her face and exhales.

I see it—the moment she realizes we’ve been here before.

She drops her eyes, and when she lifts her head, she avoids my gaze and stares at the light above us.

“Fuck, Rowan. It’s…it’s the place you’ve been talking about for years. You finally get to go.”

“I finally get to go,” I repeat.

I’m stable in my life now. Years of running myself ragged doing this job, having no life, and losing myself in the lives of others. It’s finally paying off. I’m finally the man my father never was. Except Riley’s presence threatens all that.

“I hope it’s everything you want it to be,” Riley says, attempting to stand.

I get to my feet, reaching for her. She’s warm, sweaty, and a little shaky.

“Let me get you to bed,” I say, trying to forget I ever said words like that to her long ago.