It is an excellent morning for music.

I turn on my favorite stream and blast it through the restaurant. I have to take inventory of my stock, and so I opted to wake up before the sun to come in and get it done. I don’t mind being up when it’s dark out. Outside the front windows, the sun peeks over the thin line of ocean along the distant horizon, and the sky melts from an inky black to an indigo glow along the edges.

It’s my absolute favorite time of day.

I sing along to an upbeat song as I check off my list, my hand loaded with printouts. It’s a love song, and my mind naturally flows to Ben. If only last night hadn’t been interrupted. There was so much more I wanted to do.

There’s so much more I want to know.

It’s so weird being into a cop. I promised myself I would never trust one again after what happened to Alex, but Ben is irresistible. There’s something about him that draws me in, a magnetic force field that I can’t deny. He can be so prickly and distant, but then a coin flips and he’s calling to make sure I get home OK and lending me his jacket on a romantic twilight picnic.

I’m counting all my cans of tomato paste when there’s a knock on the back door. I look at the clock. It’s not even eight in the morning. I’m not expecting Paul in for another hour or more to start with the prep. Another three knocks. Whoever is out there has a firm set of knuckles.

My heart flutters—it might be Ben, here to surprise me, to make up for our interruption last night. With that thought in mind, I practically skip to the back entrance and throw open the door.

“Hey, stranger,” I say, and then stop cold.

A lump of ice sinks to the pit of my stomach at the sight of Jordan.

He’s wearing a black leather jacket and worn jeans. His hair matches his coat, and his soul.

His eyes pierce through me as he steps in without an invitation. “Expecting me, were you?”

“I thought you were someone else.”

“The pig, you mean?”

“He’s not a pig!”

I’m playing into his hands. He wants me flustered. He wants me to give myself away. With that one comment, I already have. He steps around me, and I’m forced to turn to face him. I leave the door open in case I need to scream. I have no idea if anyone would come to help. If it wasn’t so cold, there would be crickets chirping on the dock.

Jordan chuckles and paces around me, circling his prey. He thinks this is a game. He likes to toy with people, to get into their heads then leave them damaged while he moves on to the next person. I never saw who he truly was until it was too late.

“You sound a little defensive of your true love, Naomi. You better watch that tone, or I’ll think you’ve gotten over me already.”

“I got over you a long time ago, and you know it. Now get out of here, or I swear to God…”

“That you’ll what? Call your boyfriend to come after me?” He strolls casually by a counter and slides a shucking knife from its sheath.

My heart beats a little faster. How far is he willing to go to scare me? “I happen to be in good standing with the local sheriff’s department. Besides that, you kill me and Ben will find you. I know he will.”

“I know he will,” he says, his voice dripping with mockery. “You sound like the heroine in a trashy romance novel, Naomi. Grow the fuck up. That cop will screw you in any way you let him, and then he’ll disappear. Maybe he’ll frame you for a crime you didn’t commit, to get you off his back.”

“He wouldn’t do that. He’s nothing like you.”

“Tsk, tsk. Now let’s not go making wild accusations where they aren’t warranted.”

He’s still pacing around me, sliding the knife between his fingertips, caressing it like a pet snake.

“Enough of this. Say what you came here to say and leave. I don’t need you to toy with me, Jordan. If you ever cared for me at all, you’ll leave me in peace.”

That works, on some level. He sets the knife on another counter and approaches me. He faces me head on, standing a foot away. He jumps at me, and to my undying shame, I flinch.

He grins and inches a little closer. “You see? You still have that fear of me. That’s a good, healthy thing. It keeps you in line.”

“A relationship isn’t built on keeping a partner in line.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re not in a relationship anymore then, isn’t it?”

He reaches out and grasps my wrists. His fingers tighten around me in a viselike grip, and he pulls me close. I jerk my arms, but that only serves to tighten them in his grip, and I wince.

“Jordan, don’t do this.”

“Here’s what’s about to happen, babycakes,” he says. His breath is hot in my face, and I can tell he hasn’t brushed his teeth yet this morning. He smells like day old whiskey and rot. “You’re going to get your cop boyfriend to back off this yacht case, or else you’re both going to regret it for the rest of your fucking lives, because they will be very, very short. Sound good?”

His tone is sickly sweet, and I turn my head away. I don’t give him an answer, so he shakes me, hard.

“Ow. What the fuck, Jordan!”

“Tell me you’re going to do as I ask.”

“This doesn’t look much like asking.”

He leans in and forces me to look at him. “Oh, believe me, it is. You want me to start making demands, and you’ll end up with a broken arm. Now what’s it gonna be, Naomi? The easy way, or the hard way?”

“Why are you coming to me with this? You realize this means one thing, right? You’re the yacht thief. Why else would you be doing this?”

He laughs in my face and releases me. My hands have gone numb with the loss of circulation, but an uncomfortable tingle blossoms through my fingertips as I rub my palms together.

“Aren’t you a Nancy Drew? You did it! You solved the case! You must be learning some good skills from that little boyfriend of yours.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I say. There are probably many other, much better things to say, but I find I want to distance myself from Ben in this conversation. My connection to him isn’t doing any good.

“I don’t give a rat’s ass, Naomi. If you say another word about this to Ben, if he gets an inch closer to my team, you’re going to regret it. You know what I’m capable of.”

“I know what you’re capable of when you’re dealing with a corrupt set of cops. Ben’s not corrupt. You’re not going to be able to buy him off from figuring out whatever you’re up to. You don’t have a chance in hell.”

I shouldn’t be saying these things. There’s still a knife on the counter, well within reach.

Jordan doesn’t look at it. He starts picking his nails, of all things. “You’re probably right. Still, I know that Skippy has taken a liking to that little blonde waitress of yours… what’s her name? Katie?”

I swallow bile at that comment. He is not threatening Katie.

Yes. He absolutely is.

“It would be such a shame if something were to happen to that poor girl. She’s so upbeat and happy, don’t you think? She would make an excellent girlfriend for Skippy, once she gets over those reservations of hers. Then again, she could just… disappear.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” I hiss.

Jordan looks up from his tattered nailbeds. “You’re seriously going to challenge me on this? Come on, Naomi. You’ve known me long enough to know that I always get what I want in the end. I don’t care what it takes, even when it comes to you. I’ve loved you my whole life, you know. We could have had a shot, you and me.”

His voice is wistful. I want to throw up.

I say nothing, and he shrugs a shoulder again. When he looks at me, his expression is back to cruel.

“Fuck with me and my guys, and your little friend gets to pay the price. I can handle the cop, and I’ll leave you to live out your days knowing that you could have done something to save them. A little gift from me, as it were. Or you could skip out on that present altogether and do as I’ve kindly asked. Your choice.”

“It doesn’t matter what I do. The cops here are good people. They’re not going to stop until they have you.”

This elicits another smug laugh from Jordan. “Yeah, they’re great. Maybe not as great as you think though, eh? Your man doesn’t stand a chance, so do him a favor and tell him to back off. I’m sure he’ll listen to you. You are spreading your legs for him after all.”

I keep my face expressionless as I stare him down.

He twists his head from side to side, cracking his neck. “Good talk. We should catch up more, Naomi. I miss you. We had some fun times.”

“You keep saying that like it matters. It doesn’t, after what you did, after what you’re doing right now.”

He shrugs, unperturbed. “We do what we have to when it comes to survival, Naomi. I’m ahead of the game. I rely on my natural instincts instead of forced societal rules. You used to get that. I guess you’ve changed. Such a shame.”

He casts me one last, sad glance before he heads for the back door.

“Until next time,” he says, and the promise of those words is ominous. I have no response. He closes the door behind him and I’m frozen in place, unable to move. The shock passes, and I crumble to the floor as a sob tears from my chest.

What the hell am I going to do?