Hundreds (Dollar Book 3) Page 5

  “I prefer that, too.” Her lips twitched, looking me up and down. “By the way, you look…nice.”

  The compliment surprised me, but I chewed a smile. “You too.”

  Her cheeks coloured as her gaze skated to the floor. Not having access to her thoughts made me rage. I would never take making eye contact or indulging in a conversation for granted ever again. Pim had taught me the value of such simple things.

  “Shall we go?” Selix waited on the ramp in his usual black suit. His face showed no hint of what he thought about my and Pim’s awkward compliments.

  I nodded curtly. “Yes. Got a meeting first thing.”

  Pim gave me a soft smile as I sidestepped for her to pass in front of me down the gangway. “Ladies first.”

  With a gracious nod, she padded past in flat silver sandals and headed toward Selix. Metal barricades kept her protected from falling into the sea.

  Blinking in the bright sunshine with dapples of turquoise harbour dancing over her skin, she gasped at the congestion of super yachts, priceless schooners, and vessels worth more than small cities.

  Selix quickened his step to jump aboard the small launch then turned to offer his hand to Pim as she navigated the small gap from ramp to speedboat. The sleek craft was named Ghost in a nod to the Phantom. The pretty lines curved with highly polished wood and embellished with brass accents.

  It wasn’t big, but it reeked money.

  As it should.

  I’d designed it to shuttle potential clients out to my factory to convince them to part with millions for a yacht. Another reason why I’d custom built the launch was to ferry myself to Monte Carlo. The Phantom was too big to dock—even though many of the piers were oversize to accommodate visitors like me. However, I didn’t like being penned in with the multitude of other ships. If we had to leave quickly, dropping anchor at the border of the harbour with a small craft to zip back home was ideal.

  Pim placed her palm into Selix’s as the Phantom’s stable weight switched to the wave rock of the smaller speedboat. “Thank you.”

  Selix merely nodded. He didn’t act as if Pim’s gratitude was anything monumental while I still couldn’t get used to her talking. Every sentence she uttered, I stupidly thought it might be her last. The urge to wring as many as I could before she stopped was a never ceasing fight.

  “Sit down.” Selix pointed at the wooden bench with cream cushions. “Please.”

  The moment Pim obeyed, I jumped aboard and sat beside her. She glanced at me with a welcome but wary smile. My fingertips burned to touch her, to remind her she’d traded her freedom to remain mine until she gave me everything.

  I forgot about work, water, and all my worries as I fell into the mayhem she caused. “Ready?”

  Ready to let me in?

  Ready to give me what I want?

  She nodded, her cheeks reddening like a sunrise before giving me a flickering smile and turning to watch Selix as he moved to the helm. Casting off the line securing us to the Phantom, he shifted the idling engine into gear, then added speed until we cut through the tide like a sharp blade, barely leaving any wake.

  Pim leaned forward; her attention locked on the horizon, preparing to enter another world of flashy cars, flashy people, and even flashier bank balances.

  Monaco was a playground for the mega-rich. With tax havens for most and a climate that meant everyday living required Gucci dresses and Yves Saint Laurent shorts, a lot of the global fortune was tied up in bonds, real estate, and encrypted bank accounts in the French Rivera.

  Including mine.

  Selix added more acceleration until Pim’s dark hair fanned out behind her. Gasping, she grabbed the cushion with white-knuckled fingers, throwing herself forward to counteract the greedy gravity pulling her backward.

  I made the mistake of staring at her, and I couldn’t look away.

  I watched as she peered at the welcoming horizon. I soaked in her innocence and joy as we drew closer to sun-dabbled buildings, rainbow umbrellas, and patchwork towels on the beach.

  She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

  She was the most dangerous thing I’d ever encountered.

  I had to get rid of her before it was too late.

  Chapter Eight

  ______________________________

  Pim

  ELDER HADN’T SAID where he was taking me, and I hadn’t asked.

  Partly because it was still second nature to remain quiet, and partly because I liked not knowing. I enjoyed the surprise mainly because I enjoyed Elder’s company.

  A lot had changed since yesterday.

  For two years, I’d never verbally fought with anyone. I’d shied away from any confrontation because I was the one who lost. Always.

  But Elder had listened to me. His temper had been bright and brittle, but he’d conceded when I’d asked him to keep me a little longer. The reluctance to do so hurt me more than I’d admit, but I also couldn’t shake the happiness that I’d stood up for myself and won.

  I trusted him more now than I ever did when he’d stolen me. My trust was organic rather than forced, and I made the decision to give up clinging to every essential thing—to figure out my own existence, to wade through my awful past, and allow life to unfurl minute by minute and not care where the next hour would lead me.

  It also helped that I trusted him to take me somewhere safe, show me something fun, and keep his word that I would remain by his side until I’d given him everything.

  Pity for him, I didn’t plan to do that.

  There were things about me I never wanted to relive and things I’d totally forgotten. I struggled to recall what it felt like to be Tasmin—to attend university, to have boys cheat off my exams, and be teased by jealous girls. I found it hard to remember how my mother sounded when telling me off or grilling me on a textbook she deemed worthy of me memorizing.

  Surely, a normal person didn’t just forget things like that? Had I stored those memories for too long in the crate inside my mind—keeping them under lock and key for their protection only to learn they’d suffocated instead?

  “This way.” Elder marched forward, his back straight with authority and eyes narrowed with strict assessment. The jetty we stood on was marked private with the same logo as the Phantom.

  I didn’t need to be told this was Elder’s domain.

  My gaze flickered to the neighbouring bay where stick figure men and women lounged in the sun and played beach volleyball. I’d expected to head toward town. Why? I had no idea. I should know by now Elder would never do as expected.

  Instead of heading toward the marina where countless luxury boats slept while their masters played in the water and in a city full of pleasure, Selix had skimmed us over glassy tides to a large warehouse a little way down the coast. Here, there weren’t as many holiday-makers or ships but the massive yawn in the building ahead showed this might not house many nautical crafts, but it was the creator of them.

  The structure was a massive giant waking from a long slumber; its tongue lolled out to accept tasty morsels from the sea. Gigantic windows and rough-sawn cladding had weathered and turned silver with salt frosting. It seemed ancient. However, the interior wasn’t gloomy as we strode closer. Skylights lined most of the roof, allowing plenty of sun to enter for the many people inside. Rays reflected off the bow of a skeleton ship in the making.

  Not looking to see if I was following, Elder guided me up a person-sized ramp beside the massive giant’s tongue where a ratchet and chain system sat ready to winch or lower boats into the ocean. Barnacles covered the tide lines, dry for now but just waiting to be submerged.

  I noticed everything.

  The scent of kelp on the air. The splash of waves as they lapped sedately at the rocks that’d long since covered in shellfish and sea grime. Workers hammered and sanded and scurried and measured the hull of what I guessed was the next yacht to be born.

  Climbing from the pier up seaweed-slippery steps, I held the coarse rope
handrail long since pickled from saltwater. Elder didn’t take any special notice or awe as we entered the ginormous warehouse where once again the Phantom’s logo took pride of place on the entire wall. Four stories high and interspersed with cupboards and shelving, it was the all-seeing god overseeing this hub of creation.

  I couldn’t walk and gawk at the same time.

  I stopped.

  I needed to look at everything. I needed to know how timber and metal turned from boring elements into shaped vessel. I needed to know where the varnish smell came from. I needed to learn how to master something so intricate.

  Selix hid a chuckle under his breath, waiting for me to pad obediently after Elder. His usual sniper attention was muted, acting as if this was a common destination and one where not many monsters attacked. “Impressive, isn’t it?”

  I nodded, my mouth opened in awe as I looked up at workers hanging like trapeze artists from the ceiling to attach something to a tall mast.

  It’s more than impressive.

  It’s—

  “Ah, Mr. Prest!” A man dressed in blue overalls with goggles pushed up to his brow and dusty dark hair beamed. “What a pleasure.”

  Elder slowed to a stop, holding out his hand. “Hello, Charlton. Anything to report since I was last here?” His body remained relaxed as they shook hands, but his tone weighed with underlying things.

  “No, luckily, sir.” Charlton pulled his goggles off his head and cleaned the sawdust-covered lens with his cuff. “Not many shenanigans can occur in the time since you were here last.”

  Did Elder come here when he left a couple of weeks ago? Is this where he went in the helicopter? If he had, why visit again so soon? Surely, he wasn’t required to oversee the operation that closely. If he did, he would never be able to sail around the world untethered to land commitments.

  I still had many things to learn about Elder, but I did know one thing—he despised land. He barely tolerated Morocco, and we were there for only a couple of days. He’d seemed anxious in Crete when he stole me. He turned into an assassin looking for his next enemy while on soil, but on the sea he sighed in relief and let the waves rock him back to sanity.

  “I’ve seen entire wars start and end in a few days,” Elder said quietly. “But I’m glad to hear everything is fine. How is the current project coming along?”

  His manager grasped the change of subject, able to answer with gusto now the small chitchat was over. “Very good, sir. I know we said eight months for delivery, but it’s looking more like six. The workers have got the initial build complete. The new machinery you installed has cut down on a lot of time wastage.”

  “I’m glad.” Elder waved at the warehouse and its bustling mayhem. “May we?” Glancing back at me, he added, “A tour would be nice for my…friend.”

  My heart scowled at the phrase. I should be happy to be called his friend. We were technically friends. But would friends force themselves on one another while the other refused to talk? Would friends act as if he’d been given a life sentence when asked to spend more time together?

  What do you want him to call you then? Lover? Captive? Guest?

  All those were as unwanted as friend, yet I couldn’t come up with a word that I preferred.

  Liar.

  I could come up with one.

  Boyfriend…

  Partner.

  Ridiculous, Pim!

  He was neither a boy nor my friend—as I’d just deduced. And partner? Wow, that was a stretch. The connotations that word hinted at weren’t true. He wasn’t my partner. He could never relax enough to allow another person to share his life the way a partnership demanded.

  He was my protector.

  That’s all.

  And for now, that’s all I could ask for.

  All I wanted.

  Lying again.

  I wanted more.

  I wanted what other men and women had.

  Don’t I?

  Was that another lie?

  If I wanted a physical relationship as well as emotional, why couldn’t I untwine the enjoyment I had for his kisses from the fear of full-on sex? Why did I still live with the fangs of a panic attack coiled in my chest like a venomous viper?

  Elder was a fully grown man with needs—needs he’d hinted at. Needs he controlled thanks to a calming drug.

  That’s not normal.

  Is it?

  I hadn’t dabbled much in the dating pool, but relying on drugs to combat a personality flaw was never a good sign.

  “A tour? Yes, of course!” Charlton bounced into gear, charging ahead. “It would be my honour to show off the Hammerhead.”

  Elder rolled his eyes. “Call her something else. The owner who commissioned her is no longer interested in completing the deal.”

  Charlton stopped, his face falling. “Oh dear, that’s upsetting.”

  Elder grinned, evil and smug. “Believe me; it’s the best news I’ve had in a while.”

  “In that case then…great.” Charlton smiled, snapping his goggles back into prime position on his forehead.

  “Lead on.” Wrapping his arm around my waist, Elder pulled me forward and deeper into the warehouse. With Charlton a little ahead of us, he whispered, “Take a guess who this yacht was for, Pim.”

  My nose tickled with the scents of saw-dust, resin, and beeswax. Too many workers to count all added to the melody of hard work and companionship. A laugh here, a cough there, all serenaded by the clack and whirr of tools.

  Moving closer to the almost completed hull, my neck craned back as I struggled to see to the top. The skeletal frame of whatever floating beauty this would be was massive but still not as big as the Phantom.

  Elder waved Selix and Charlton away, giving us privacy I wasn’t sure I wanted.

  An odd shiver darted down my spine.

  Him.

  This yacht was for the man who most likely rotted on his living room floor where we’d left him with three bullet holes. The man who would never touch this boat, just like he’d never touch me again.

  My hands balled as sudden hate for such a beautiful creation filled me. I wanted to burn it for having any ties to my old master, but at the same time, I wanted to soothe it and whisper just how lucky it was to never have belonged to him.

  Elder’s breath burned my ear as he bent close. “Did you guess?”

  Vague conversation of weaponry and going to war at sea came back. Elder had fascinated me from the moment he’d entered Alrik’s den. His payment terms of building such a thing included using me. A bargain struck with his hand on my leg and eyes twisting my heart.

  I stiffened, moving away from him a little, needing space. “This is what he commissioned you to build.”

  I glanced back at the birth of such a boat. Why would Alrik need such a thing? Was Elder right that he’d burned all his bridges and had loan sharks after him? Would he truly have stowed me away and fired at anyone who got close?

  You know he would.

  He would’ve used me as missile practice.

  “It is.” Elder’s face blackened, his long eyelashes staining his cheeks with shadows. “Not that he’ll ever get it.” His shoulders tightened as violence rippled over him, no doubt remembering the unfortunate events leading up to our unusual association. “I’m glad I took his last pennies, and I’m glad he’s fucking dead.” His voice prickled with thorns. “He never deserved you, and now I can rest, knowing I robbed him blind and then killed the son of a bitch.”

  I fed on his wicked joy, celebrating Alrik’s death in ways that would probably send me to hell. Murderers shouldn’t take such satisfaction in snuffing out a life. Then again…perhaps that was why we were drawn to one another—the shared event of stealing the worst thing you could ever steal.

  A soul.

  Even one as dirty and evil as Alrik.

  Elder rolled his shoulders, shedding the intense viciousness he wore. “Besides, if he wasn’t dead, I’d probably kill him just for naming such a thing of beauty after a
shark with eyes too far apart.” He snorted. “The Hammerhead. What sort of fucking name is that?”

  I half-smiled, goosebumps breaking over my skin at the sudden playfulness in his tone. “It isn’t the nicest.” Tearing my gaze away before he could affect me further, I became entranced by the majesty of how simple humans could turn wood and whatever other ingredients they used into a watertight marvel. “What would you call it?”

  Elder scrubbed his jaw. “It doesn’t matter what I’d call it. The owner has to name their vessel and seeing as this ship has no owner…it will remain unnamed until she’s sold.”

  “She?”

  “All boats are women.” Elder shrugged. “I don’t know why, and I haven’t cared to look it up. It just is.”

  “Is?”

  “Yes, is.” His eyes softened, stepping into the realm he barricaded at all times. “I prefer thinking they’re alive rather than empty. It makes my life less lonely.” Instantly, he coughed as if such things hadn’t just spilled from his lips. His face became sharp and unreadable as he followed the contours of his creation, avoiding my stare at all costs. “You’ve gotten away with a lot of questions today, Pim. My turn. Tell me what you’d name her.”

  “Me?” I pressed a hand to my chest. “I don’t know the first thing about naming—”

  “Don’t care. Tell me.”

  “I thought you just said the owner has to name them.”

  “You’re right.” He shoved his fists into his jean’s pockets. Sudden awkwardness fell between us as we stood together but apart.

  A few minutes ticked past, each heavier than the last.

  I didn’t know how to break the chilliness between us and jumped when he finally muttered a little coldly but full of rich conviction. “Name her.”

  “But—”

  “She’s just been sold.”

  I frowned. “What? How? You’ve been standing here the entire—”

  “As have you. The transaction is complete.”

  He’d lost it. I couldn’t keep up. “I don’t understand.”

  “Name her, Pim.” He turned to face me, his chest proud and t-shirt tight against his muscles. “You’re her new owner. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”