Page 30 of When Hearts Unravel (The Orchid #6)

The crystals on the chandelier rattle as the ship pitches to the side. I burrow myself deeper into the comforter on my bed, and hold on to my laptop. Thank God I didn’t eat a full meal at dinner tonight.

Lightning splits across the angry skies and booming thunder rattles the floor-to-ceiling window. Rain crashes against the glass as the cruise ship sways again.

The turbulence settles a few seconds later, and I focus on my laptop screen. According to my research, Velowake is a drug used to treat narcolepsy. It’s still in trials, so Rex must’ve gotten them off the black market. And it’s not just “caffeine” pills, as he claimed.

The medicine comes with a host of potential side effects, including a heightened risk of heart attacks, strokes, kidney issues, and other mental conditions such as insomnia, anxiety, psychosis, and depression. The maximum recommended dosage is three pills a day. He’s taking way more than that.

He’s killing himself slowly with his extreme behaviors and unhealthy habits.

It’s like he doesn’t care.

“You can’t save me. I need to have something worth saving first.” That’s what he told me during our second session.

Then three days ago, he finally gave me a glimpse of his pain, and why his calling was to make his family happy. Because, in some sick, twisted way, he felt responsible for his mom’s death. That he took away his dad and siblings’ happiness.

That marble I’ve seen him take out every so often is a sign of his guilt.

So he gave all his joy to others. All the while, he carved ribbons of pain into his skin, hiding his guilt and anguish from the people who loved him most.

He slept for one hour that day in the office. He was restless—groaning and shifting on the recliner, sweat dotting his forehead.

And he wouldn’t let go of me. He clutched my hand like it was a lifeline.

The worst part was…

I didn’t want to let go.

I wanted to hold him in my arms and tell him he didn’t have to hide with me.

He wanted to fuck women so he could exhaust himself enough to go to sleep. And in one horrifying moment, I was tempted.

So very tempted to climb on top of him, to wake him up with my body, and kiss away his pain.

I’d suckle the flickering pulse on his neck and worship the ridges of his chiseled muscles.

I’d take his hard cock into my mouth and give him pleasure until he’s sated.

He wouldn’t need the pills because I’d be there.

He could use me. Any part of me. Over and over again.

Then, I wanted to hold him in my arms while he slept.

It’s wrong. It’s immoral.

I’m his doctor.

And so, after he left my office that day, I made every attempt to avoid him. I didn’t go to the sun deck, knowing he liked it there. When I saw him walk down the hallway, I took a side corridor.

Blowing out a breath, I pull up my email and begin typing.

Dear Mr. Anderson,

I’m stepping back from the therapeutic role of your physician, as it’s no longer appropriate or effective.

Regards,

Olivia Lin, MD

My finger hovers over the send button, but I hesitate.

I want to help him. He has no one to talk to.

If I leave him now, what will happen to him?

And my promise to Lana to help him. The funding for ADAS. I’d disappoint so many people.

Sweat beads on my upper lip and I look at the mirrored wall across from the bed. Like everything else on the cruise ship, it’s state-of-the-art and high tech.

“Sanctuary, please tell me the weather forecast.”

A screen showing the Weather Channel appears on the mirrored panel.

“Dr. Lin, for the next two days, a severe weather alert has been issued for the Central Mediterranean Basin. A deepening low-pressure system is bringing turbulent conditions. Mariners should expect winds gusting fifty-to-sixty knots, heavy rains, and rogue waves over twenty-three feet. Passengers are advised to remain inside their staterooms for safety.”

Fear sweeps through me. The situation sounds dangerous.

I practice deep breaths and cognitive behavioral therapy techniques.

It’s just a storm. We have the best of the best helming this cruise ship. There’s nothing to worry about.

I think back to Rex’s words that day at Dubrovnik.

“You’re a mirage. A temptress and a rule breaker trapped inside, waiting to be let out.”

I want to be the siren he’s describing. That woman would be fearless.

A thought niggles at me.

Good-girl Olivia stays warm and dry inside the stateroom. She eats the almond cookies she hates because that’s what she’s supposed to do.

But temptress Olivia? She’d embrace the chaos and call it excitement. She’d never force herself to do something she doesn’t want.

Huffing a deep breath, I grab the tin of cookies on my nightstand.

Twelve years. I’ve let the past trap me for twelve years. It’s time to let go.

I pad to the balcony door and slide it open. Within seconds, I’m wet—rain coats my face, my hair, soaks through my thin T-shirt and sweats.

My first instinct is to shut the door and yell at myself for being stupid.

But I don’t.

Instead, I step onto the balcony—holding onto the doorframe because I’m not stupid—and let the weather lash my face.

I dump the cookies into the ocean, then set the tin on the ground. Guilt pricks me.

You’re not supposed to litter.

The birds can eat them.

Icy cold water pelts my skin. The wind howls. Lightning splits across the sky, and every inch of me comes alive.

Excitement bubbles in my chest. A laugh rips out of me.

It’s messy. It’s chaotic. My heart might short-circuit.

But I’m alive. I made a choice for myself.

I feel every single thing, and I love it.

Something is unraveling inside me, just like the storm outside, turning our world upside down.

A shrill alarm suddenly pierces the air, and I jolt, noticing red lights flashing outside the stateroom. Then I hear my phone ring.

Rushing back inside, I quickly pick up and answer the call.

“Dr. Lin speaking.”

“We have an emergency on deck three. It’s legit all hands on deck. Can you come?” Jessa sounds panicked and I know it’s bad when the day shift nurses are working nights.

I change into fresh clothes and grab my windbreaker while Jessa debriefs me. Apparently, a few drunk passengers thought it’d be a good time to reenact a certain scene from Titanic and, naturally, they fell overboard when a rogue gust caught them by surprise.

Seriously, Darwin Awards in action.

By the time I get to deck three, it’s chaos. Security guards wearing yellow reflective jackets scurry around the deck. Jessa and Fiona usher a shivering man on a stretcher toward the elevators.

Jessa nods when I spot her, just as I hear wet footsteps thudding toward me.

“They called you.” Rhys reaches my side, sounding out of breath. “I told them not to. We have it handled.”

“How can I help?”

I know the basics, but it’s been years since I did a rotation in the emergency room.

“So far, there were two superficial head wounds. The man they wheeled by was trying to jump into the water to rescue the idiots, but he had a heart attack. Dr. MacKintosh is meeting him in the medical bay.”

People rush around, bright spotlights sweeping up and down the deck, then over the dark ocean.

Between the roar of the winds and the rain assailing my face, I can barely hear him.

“What about the people who fell overboard?” I holler.

My pulse races when I see personnel huddled by the railing, pointing to the water.

“The two with the head wounds were lucky because we fished them out quickly. There’s still one person missing. But with the storm and the frigid temperatures, I doubt she’ll make it…if she isn’t dead already. I’m heading back to the medical bay, and you should join me—”

I don’t hear the rest of his sentence because my entire being focuses on a tall man emerging from the crowd. With his dark Henley soaked and plastered to his body, Rex Anderson is a sight to behold.

Lightning whips over us, rendering his face in stark shadows. Two guards speak to him and he throws his hands in the air, clearly agitated. Then he rakes his fingers through his dark tresses.

He looks up and our gazes lock.

For a moment, with nature inflicting violence upon us—the dark clouds festering with electricity, the deafening gusts nearly obliterating my eardrums—time stops.

Emotions flashing in those iridescent eyes—anger, worry, fear—too many for me to name. He takes a step toward me, his hands curled at his side.

“Go,” he mouths. “It’s too dangerous here.”

My feet are rooted to the ground.

How can I go when he’s here?

But suddenly, a man calls him, panic in his voice. He points to the ocean, gesturing wildly. Rex stares at the man, then the dark waters, and every hair on my body stands.

No. Don’t do it.

He whips his head toward me again, his eyes reflecting the same unhinged glint I saw that day when he threw himself over me in Pyrgos.

The madness within them. The daredevil tempting death.

Don’t do it.

I open my mouth to beg him, but it’s too late. I watch in horror as he spins toward the ocean and, in two quick strides, vaults off the railing, disappearing from sight.

A scream rips from me, and the next thing I know, I’m hurtling toward the crowd, ignoring Rhys’s hollers, ignoring the screams of passersby and cruise personnel.

Rex went after the person overboard.

Without a care for his own life.

He’s been tempting the Grim Reaper, and now he’s calling his bluff and facing him head-on.

I plaster myself against the railing, trying to find the maddening man, but all I see is the unforgiving sea.

Deep. Dark. Dangerous.

Towering waves crash against the ship, the spray joining the rain, soaking our bodies.

Where is he? Where the fuck is he?

People yell around me—commands, worries, I have no clue. I can’t hear them.

Spotlights sweep the waters, the temporary brightness illuminating endless stretches of black.

I don’t see him. I don’t see him anywhere.

“Rex!” I cry, but it’s useless, my voice no match for the surrounding ruckus.

Tears gather in my eyes and acid churns in my gut. I grip the railing for dear life when another rogue wave crashes against us.

Please. Please don’t take him.

I sob, a devastating loss stabbing my chest, shocking me with how much I feel toward him, telling me the wretched man has stolen something inside me without me noticing.

And now…now I don’t know how I can survive without him.

I can’t lose him.

“Rex!” I scream again.

I’d give anything to hear his voice, his ridiculous jokes, and his inappropriate comments.

To have him drag me on some adventure I didn’t ask for, trade truths with each other.

To hear him call me bewitching, little Olive, or good rule follower.

I’d give anything to be back in the office with him, to climb onto the recliner and wrap him in my arms.

How did it get this way? How did he sneak inside my heart? What if I’ve lost him for good?

Agony I’ve never experienced before rams into my chest, a serrated knife twisting and twisting until I keel over in pain.

Images barrel through my mind. His teasing smile, his arrogant smirk.

Then I think of Mia, her spark and energy, snuffed out suddenly without warning.

Her face, just like mine, colorless the morning I found her.

I can’t do this again.

A shrill whistle pierces the air, followed by another. Then more screams—joyous cries.

Heart pounding wildly, I whip my head toward the commotion, and finally notice what’s drawing everyone’s attention.

Two heads bobbing in the water. Rex has one arm wrapped around an unconscious woman, his free hand gripping a rope thrown at him.

Personnel work together and wrench them up, fighting against the ocean that clearly wants to claim them for good.

Within minutes, they pull them up and over the railing. Rhys hurries over with a few nurses and they load the woman onto a stretcher.

I barely notice the quizzical stare he levels my way because I’m already flying toward the man I have no business thinking about.

The man I shouldn’t want to kiss or touch, or know every single facet of his complicated mind.

The man who has reached inside my chest and fisted my heart in his large palm without my permission.

Tears stream down my face and I throw myself at the devil, not caring he’s dripping wet.

A deep oomph reaches my ears as Rex’s arms automatically wrap around my back, holding me close.

His reassuring heartbeat riots in my ears as tremors rack my body as if I were the one who took a frigid plunge.

I was this close to losing him.

He shouldn’t have survived it.

His heated breath grazes my ear before I hear his smug, gravelly rasp.

“Just can’t keep your hands off me, huh?”