Page 108 of Grace

“Live!”

I shove my trousers down and pull the T-shirt over my head. I don’t take off my bra or panties. I wade into the water, stepping into his footprints.

Chase rises from the water in the untouched, beautiful bay and slicks his hair back. He submerges until the water reaches his nose, and my gaze snags on his eyes—burning with dark fire, like a dangerous animal’s. The hot sand scorches my feet, but the sting fades as soon as I reach the white, frothing waves lapping peacefully against the empty, quiet beach.

I want to feel alive.

I want to be free.

To enjoy everything he took from me—everything he’s giving back to me in these few days. Except for my parents’ love. Sadness stabs at my heart, and I shudder as the water reaches my flat, toned stomach.

“Can you swim?” he asks, yanking me out of the sticky web of my thoughts, coating my mouth with bitterness. The sadness twists my heart.

“A little,” I reply through clenched teeth. I rise onto my tiptoes and close my eyes. The higher the water climbs, the worse it feels against my hot skin.

“Go under all at once. Empty your mind, and go,” he says in his deep, resonant voice.

I don’t move.

“Trust me, Grace. It’ll shock you at first, but you’ll get used to it in seconds. It’s much better than doing it gradually.”

Three, two, one…

I pinch my nose and tuck my knees up, sinking into the ice-cold water. I stay under until I run out of breath, forcing my skin to adjust to the temperature. When I surface, I drag in a deep breath. Chase’s eyes bore into mine, full of cold mirth. It takes me a moment to realize my face isn’t numb from the water—it’s numb from how wide I’m smiling.

He moves closer, but doesn’t touch me. We swim, float, and laugh—letting the sea wash off the grit and exhaustion of today’s long drive. We’re just existing, breathing, enjoying life without caring what came before this moment or what will come after it.

Night has fallen, and my skin is wrinkled from the water.

I hurry to the car with chattering teeth and goosebumps, desperate to pull on clean, warm clothes. He turns away discreetly, even though he couldn’t see anything in the pitch-black darkness. The water in the bay glints like onyx.

We eat vending-machine food on the hood of the car, then watch the starry sky and listen to the waves’ soft murmur, wrapped in a checked blanket. The warm, salty breeze dries my tears. I still can’t wrap my head around how the warm body sitting beside me can hold both men—the protector and the kidnapper.

The average guy and the lunatic.

My eyelids grow heavy, but before I can fall asleep, the bay’s white waves whisper the answer into my ears.

You’re both pretending.

Alabama Adventure, Alabama

“An amusement park? Don’t you think it’s a little too obvious—and not normal? In the movies—” I try to push on, fired up, but Chase cuts me off.

“We agreed to pretend. If we were hiding in some dark hole, staying in one place, you’d lose your mind and we’d be easy targets. But if we’re constantly on the move like this, blending in, it’s easy to get lost in the crowd—and no one’s going to make a scene in front of hundreds of people. And I don’t want you to feel any pressure. I think I’ve already proven how capable I am. That I can protect you anytime, anywhere.”

“This sounds… pretty logical. And…” The smell of grilled sausages and corn, cotton candy, and sugar-glazed apples makes me salivate. “It’s been a while since I was in a place like this. We really loved the carousels, the bumper cars, and the shops where you could buy all sorts of things. But this is all so cliché, isn’t it? The seashore, the amusement park…”

“What wouldn’t be cliché?” he asks, lifting a curved eyebrow.

“Hiding in a dark room.”

His full lips pull into a tight, icy smile. I think we’re thinking the same thing. My womb clenches, and warmth spreads between my thighs. I press my legs together and look away, because the air between us is heating up, thickening with sexual tension. I’d love to brush that goddamn dark lock of hair out of his eyes and kiss him—to let my tongue slide into his mouth, touch his gently, then let him take over and deepen the kiss, our tongues dancing, curious, electrifying…

I rejected his kisses so many times… And now I’m yearning for them the way a beggar yearns for bread. I’d sell my soul to the devil for one kiss.

“I think that would be the most cliché thing. Hiding in a dark room, looking out the window, waiting for someone to bust the door down on us.”

He reaches for my baseball cap and settles it on my head.