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breathing faster and her eyes are wide, and she’s looking at me like every opinion she ever formed

about me is now being reevaluated.

“Please,” I say. “We’re meeting Logan on his yacht just offshore. It’s fine. It’s all fine.”

Then I untie the dock line from the cleat, jump on board, and catch the backside of Megan as she

disappears into the cabin.

I tuck the dock line neatly away in a compartment, then look out to sea. Just barely able to make out

the long, sleek hull of a massive superyacht.

One more deep breath for courage, and then I follow her inside.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN - MEGAN

I wouldn’t call that thing a boat. The superyacht we’re approaching has to be at least two

hundred feet long and has been designed to look like some sort of mutant hybrid of a submarine and a

warship.

“What the hell is that?” I mumble.

Johnny, who didn’t let me captain the boat after I started it up and who has been silent the whole

ten minutes we’ve been making our way out to meet Logan, just says, “Nice, right?” in response.

“That’s Logan’s boat?”

“Yup.”

We’re about a hundred yards off the port side when an equally sleek tender boat motors out the

back and starts heading towards us.

“Should we anchor?” I ask, trying to make sense of things.

“No. We’re not anchoring.”

I’m just about to ask another question about the new plan I haven’t been told when I notice there

are two occupants in the boat approaching us.

One woman wearing a red bikini—long blonde hair flying behind her in a ponytail—and one man,

shirtless and wearing tan board shorts.

Johnny cuts the engine, jumps up from his chair at the helm, and then pushes past me to make his

way to the swim platform.

And because I don’t know what’s going on and I don’t know what to do, I follow him. By the time I

make my way to the stern, the approaching boat is sliding alongside.

The woman takes the hand Johnny’s offering her and jumps on board our ship.