Jack: Reversal
The propeller plane we came in on takes off again to refuel along the coast.
“O’Bannon, Rackham, get one of the yachts ready. Riley and I are going back by boat.”
“That’s gonna take a while, boss,” Rackham says. “We’re pretty far from the coast here.”
I shrug and play it off. “Hey, I want to get to fuck on a boat.”
“Just the two of you?”
“Well yeah, Tom—no offense, but I don’t want to get to fuck you on a boat. You’re not my type—not that you’re not beautiful in your own way. ”
They laugh at that and go to do it, free of suspicion. I’ll take Riley down the coast, give her an account with all the money she could ever need, and…and never see her again. Then I'll head back to New York and tell Daemon his most recent girl threw herself over the side of the ship. I'll tell him I wasn't able to get to her and now her body's somewhere on the bottom of the ocean. Daemon's difficult to lie to, but I'm a very, very good liar.
We wander up to the compound, but Daemon and his people aren’t there. That’s strange because he likes to arrive far, far before anyone else, especially when he convenes any sort of meeting. Something’s wrong. I can feel it—one man arriving late shouldn’t be a big deal, but something inside of me is shouting that something’s wrong. Did someone take out Daemon? That’s not possible. He’s too powerful. It’s impossible for anyone to even get near him except for me and the few members of his trusted inner circle—and they’re all on the island, here, with me today. Has he run into trouble? Maybe. A worse thought occurs to me, though: Daemon’s planning something. Maybe, just maybe, he’s not here on purpose.
I message one of his assistants to make sure there wasn't trouble along the way and then follow Riley to her room. She can't exactly escape on this little island; I'm only there because I want a few more minutes with her, even like this. I can't bring myself to care that she made it into my office. For some reason, it makes her even more appealing to me.
I can feel the anger and sadness seeping out of her over Talia. Every fiber of me wants to explain it to her—explain everything—but I force the urge down. You’ll only hurt her more if you tie her to you. Besides, she doesn’t want you anyway. She was trying to sabotage you in your office, somehow. She despises you, deep down. Let her go.
I want to say something to her, anything, just to hear her voice in response. But for once in my life, I can't think of anything to say when I need it. I sit back on the dresser and settle for watching her beautiful figure as she unpacks, her back to me. I rove over her body with my eyes, trying to commit every inch and curve to memory in order to carry her with me when she's gone.
She looks back at me every once in a while—annoyance and anger in her eyes—and even that I love. I think I would love anything in her beautiful, vivid eyes.
Let her go. This is a weakness that’s already made you stumble. Delusions aren’t worth spending yourself on. It’s not worth it for either one of you.
I drift off into the only wholesome fantasy I’ve ever had. Riley and I are just normal. All the pain and hurt we’ve been through never happened. We meet at a coffee shop. I wander in, we’re reading the same book, I ask her about it, and we talk for hours. A few weeks later we get married. Our families—our nice, normal families—think we’re crazy, but we know it’s forever. There’s no point in waiting for something we both want so much. We live in a little house. I grow fresh food for us in a garden. Riley writes and I proofread her work for her. We lay out under the sky at night in our little backyard and tell each other stories about the stars.
That’s not your life. You don’t get to erase what you’ve done, and you don’t get her. Let her go.
But for a moment it’s too much, and I can’t resist her. “Riley…” I start, without thinking, and she turns to me, eyes flashing.
But something changes in the air. I can feel it before I hear or see anything tangible. She opens her mouth and I hold a hand up to silence her. Something in the urgency of my gesture makes her listen.
I move to the inner window of her room. We’re on the third floor of the large manor complex of the island. Walkways run around each level and the building surrounds a large courtyard below us. Most of us are staying in rooms on the first floor. Riley’s up here to keep her trapped, guarded, and out of the way. I peer out the window.
Nothing.
And then a man in dark combat armor emerges in the courtyard.
Riley opens her mouth again and I hold up a hand urgently. If someone made it this far, it means they’ve already passed the outer perimeter without raising an alarm. That means they’ve either slipped past our guards, or all our guards are dead. That means we’re fucked. Another armored man emerges, then another.
I relax for just a moment. Those are SWAT uniforms. Somehow, someone found out about this and some agency moved in. I realize that I’m going to be arrested. But Riley’s safe. She just has to keep her hands up and wait up here for them to find her.
But something’s wrong. Something’s just…off in how these guys move. I know how police move. I can’t even say how, but in the deep parts of my mind I know something’s very wrong.
“They’re cops,” Riley whispers. She says it like she’s sure of it. Like she knows something I don’t. My mind catches on that for a moment, but I let it go to focus on what’s at hand.
I look closer. I can just see through the gap between the helmets and the neck-guards. The men have tattoos slithering over their flesh.
The answer falls into place. I can feel it.
“No. It’s New Dawn.”
“No, Jack—” Riley starts to say, then cuts herself off. She starts again. “How—how do you know it’s New Dawn?”
“I don’t know. They’re just not moving right. Something’s wrong.”
“Jack, I’m pretty sure they’re cops.”
I move to the window on the far side. “Don’t open that door, Riley.” I look back at her. “You have to trust me. Just for the next ten minutes, please, you have to forget everything from the last week and trust me.”
She hesitates for a moment, but then she nods.
I look out the far window. They messed up. They haven’t surrounded the back of the compound.
I can see a path all the way to a clean escape. The back wall of the building is a steep descent down to rocks and cliffs overlooking the water. Most of the boats are on the far side of the island, but there are small sailboats moored on the backside. I’d be able to wait for night and sail away.
But I know I’m not going to do it. I’m going to stay here. I’m going to die here if I have to.
I could make the climb, maybe. I've climbed before. Riley couldn't. She's strong and brave, but she doesn't have the training. I think for a moment of making a rope out of the sheets, but it would take too long and it wouldn't reach far enough anyway. I move back to the front window of the room just as the armored men start kicking in doors and dragging people out into the courtyard. Everyone's caught off guard—no one's supposed to know about this place. Daemon's locations are usually incredibly secure. No one's seen through the SWAT uniforms yet. They think they're just being arrested. The higher-ups in Daemon's organization are probably laughing to themselves; with our lawyers, they would be out of jail in hours.
Fuck them. Most of them are scum. I try to convince myself to just go out the back window. If this is New Dawn, there could be forty or fifty trained guns waiting for me down there. They’re insane and deranged, but that doesn’t mean they’re not efficient killers. I know the chances of surviving this are really fucking bad. But if I go out that window, Riley’s chance of surviving this is zero.
Just go out the damn window, Jack. Just go out the window. Nothing’s worth this. Just go out the damn window!
The thoughts are powerless. Like hell am I going to let them hurt her. Like hell am I going to let them lay a hand on her. All I have on me is the gold and black gun from the poker game with one clip in it, plus a loose extra bullet I stuffed in my pocket earlier when I was loading it.
For all my planning and pragmatism, when danger actually arrives, I only care about one thing on this island: Riley Lark.