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Between Lochlan and this murder, there are too many things out of my control. I feel so unmoored that when my phone rings, I’m tempted to throw it across the room. I don’t want to deal with whoever is on the other line and what problem they are going to inevitably throw at me.
The last thing I need right now is a shattered phone, so with a heavy sigh, I pick it off the coffee table and flop down on the couch. I groan when I see it’s Clark. His phone calls always lead to more chaos.
I take one calming breath then answer, “Hi, Clark.”
“Stella, how are you? Good, good,” he says to my generic answer and continues, “So, listen, we can’t keep the island locked down any longer. Guests are getting impatient to leave and are discussing getting their own charters if ours remain unusable.”
“I guess that’s to be expected,” I say understandingly.
“Yes, well, it was worth a try. Tomorrow morning, we’ll resume ferrying.” He’s talking more rapidly than usual, and I get the sense he’s only half paying attention to our conversation.
“Anyway, I know you two have been doing some sort of investigation.” He adds an emphasis that sounds like he’d say it with a wink if we were in person. “And I wanted to pass along my gratitude, but I do think it’s time to call it a wrap. There doesn’t seem to be a persisting threat, and I truly feel that whatever happened was an isolated incident that my poor brother brought on himself.”
“Okay.” I’m not quite sure how to feel, especially with his weird energy. “I appreciate your confidence in the situation and am glad you feel relieved of any danger. As we step into ownership, I’m not sure this will be something we’ll simply be able to drop completely, but I won’t oppose unlocking the island.”
“Good, great. That’s all I needed to hear, and thanks again, Stella. I am proud to hand off this special place to your capable hands. Alright, bye now, I’m sure we’ll speak again before you leave.” Abruptly, he hangs up.
I set my phone down in a confused daze. What just happened? Why was he acting so fucking weird?
I sit for a moment, speculations running wild in my mind. I’m about to get up to update Lochlan when his door opens and he walks out.
His appearance is night and day from this morning. His hair is pushed back and out of his face, and he looks well-rested and is dressed in his casual going out clothes.
“Hey,” I say awkwardly, walking to sit at the kitchen island.
“Hey.” He doesn’t look at me, instead opening the fridge and searching inside. He turns around, holding out a beer. “Want one?”
“No, I’m good. Thank you.” I fight back a wave of emotion, his small peace offering relieving some of the tension in my chest I didn’t realize was knotted up so tight.
He pops the bottle with his teeth then leans against the edge of the sink, facing me with his ankles crossed. He dips his chin, hard blue eyes unflinchingly meeting mine as he takes a sip. When he’s done, he holds the bottle loosely by the neck and tilts his head expectantly.
When I don’t say anything, he smirks out of the corner of his mouth and says, “Ready for round two?” I feel a little whiplashed by his nonchalance after this morning. Especially when I see lingering bitterness in his eyes, hurt behind his smile.
“Are we still doing that?” I ask, a little exasperated.
He pushes off the sink to stand tall and confident. Is he trying to intimidate me?
“Of course, we are,” he says with a hint of a threat. “I’m no quitter and neither are you, Stella Mae.” My body instantly reacts, like paper in a fire, to my full name in his low voice and cocky lilt.
Rather than burn brighter, I shrivel to ashes. “Don’t call me that.”
His expression is a mix of offended and confused. “Is that not something a friend would call you?”
Frustration flares, but I tamp it down and change the subject. “Clark just called. He was being really weird, basically said he didn’t care about finding his brother’s killer anymore. And that they’re taking the island off lockdown.”
“It was bound to happen sooner or later.” He shrugs and takes another sip. “If the killer can leave tomorrow morning, I guess that means the game ends tonight. You better catch a whale.” He scoops up the cards he scattered on the counter earlier and drops them one by one into his palm. “You have a lot of catching up to do, and I’m sure you want to win more than ever now.”
His words have a hard edge behind the arrogance. I think back to our conversation at the beginning of all of this.
And what will I get when I win?
I’ll let this silly little crush go. This is all we’ll ever be.
Standing, I grab my clutch from the counter and slip my phone inside. Before heading out, I feel nothing but coldness when I say, “I don’t lose.”
I don’t get the same thrill walking into Libidine tonight. The scandalous energy that is usually intoxicating feels noxious. As if the room is filled with people making bad decisions rather than liberating choices.
I don’t know if it’s my desire to win, spite, or just sheer stubbornness that makes me search out Lulu as soon as I arrive.
