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Awesome. Very helpful to my mental well-being and sense of security. “Is there anything else you can tell me?” I ask. “Aboutwhomyou’re monitoring or whether you have any more intel about them looking for me? I deserve to know, German.”
He purses his lips. “The only thing that you need to know is that right now, you’re safe. Just try to relax. Enjoy yourself. This will all blow over soon enough.”
“What, exactly, will blow over?” Ben asks.
“And what about my sisters?” I ask, my voice tight.
“We have people keeping an eye on things in Oakley,” German says. “But it’s just a precaution. You don’t need to worry.”
That news sinks in a little bit. I’ve been so preoccupied, distracted by feeling so terrible, but if German is concerned enough to have agents watching over Eloise and Merritt—that sounds a lot more like arealthreat and not just a precautionary one.
And German says I don’t need to worry? He might as well tell me I don’t need to breathe.
Art suddenly swivels away from the main panel and pulls on a headset. He mutters something, then turns to catch Ben’s eye. “We have a bit of a situation, and I’m not sure what you want to do. Given our current circumstances.”
Ben takes the headset from Art, and I turn my attention back to German. “So, what’s the plan? How long will we be out here?”
He lets out one of his trademark longsuffering sighs. “Sadie, I don’t have answers for you.”
“But when will you feel like it’s safe again? What, exactly, are you waiting for?”
German just stares with his cool blue eyes. I’m not typically a fan of violence, but I sure would like to wrap my hands around his tiny, little neck and squeeze more answers out of the man. Overall, this whole conversation has left me so unsettled that my lost phone is the least of my concerns.
Ben clears his throat, and I realize he’s now standing with his hand on the door. “Slight change of plans,” he says. “There’s a stranded boat nearby who radioed for help. We’re going to see what we can do.”
“What boat?” German frowns. “This is not a good idea.”
“I didn’t ask your permission.” Ben frowns right back.
“Given the circumstances, interacting with strangers, no matter how dire their situation, is not prudent. I won’t allow it.”
Ben’s gaze moves to me, then quickly away. “That’s just it. They aren’t strangers,” he says.
“Friends?” I ask, wondering if there’s some secret society of yacht owners who all hang out together, offering assistance as needed.
“More like … acquaintances,” Ben says. Again, he looks at me, and my gut tightens. Exactly what kind of acquaintances are we talking about?
If I had to guess? Women. THAT kind of “acquaintance.”
I don’t feel any particular way about it. Nope.
Not when we walk out of the wheelhouse, German and Ben arguing the whole way about safety and background checks. Not when we get on deck and see a white boat in the near distance, growing closer as the yacht picks up speed.
But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel anything about it when we slow, the yacht coasting as we pull close, and I see three women in string bikinis on deck, jumping up and down like they’re in some kind of music video.
And I definitely feel a wholelotof ways as the women, still jumping up and down and testing the limits of their bikini tops, squeal, “Benjy! You came!”
Ben—sorry,Benjy—rubs the back of his neck, which is growing alarmingly red, and shoots me a sheepish look.
Jealousy claws at my throat and I suddenly, probably irrationally, decide that maybe setting the record straight about him being my fake boyfriend doesn’t need to be on the agenda today at all.
ELEVEN
Sadie
“Who evenarethey?”I ask, not even trying to hide my annoyance. Or the whiny pitch to my voice.
“No one of consequence,” Leandra says with a sigh.
