“Liam!” I shouted.

But he kept on walking. When the door closed behind him, I grabbed a pillow from the couch and hurled it.

It didn’t go very far.

It also didn’t make much noise when it fell uselessly to the ground.

Annoyed with myself, I grabbed the pillow and tossed it back onto the couch before moving over to the door. I grabbed the doorknob, but in the end, I let it go and turned around, my back braced against the smooth wooden surface behind me.

Liam and I had just gotten back together two days ago, and we’d already had what was probably our first major fight.

Long after the door closed behind him, I resisted the urge to go after him.

I already felt trapped, confined inside the walls of this bungalow. Without him being there, it made it worse.

The temporary space Millie had given me for living quarters was not small, not by any stretch of the imagination. It was one of the presidential suites, almost identical to the one I’d been using since I moved to the island. With broad, airy rooms and a wide patio that opened out into a terraced garden, the bungalow was luxurious, spacious, and beautiful.

I might as well have been trapped inside a closet. It was like the walls were closing in around me.

I understood that Liam was worried.

I got that.

And I knew Millie was worried too.

It wasn’t like I was unfazed by what had happened.

I definitely wanted to know what was going on. It was unsettling as hell to think that somebody had been in my place, gone through my stuff, touched my things.

“Stop thinking about it for a while,” I told myself, going to the fridge and opening it. It had already been stocked, and I smiled when I saw a bottle of my favorite wine chilling inside. Millie hadn’t lost her touch.

A glass of wine would chill me out, I figured, so I poured a glass and sipped at it as I restlessly paced the bungalow. Outside, the lights of the resort beckoned me, and I turned my back on them.

I didn’t want to go to the main building and fraternize or play the genial hostess. I was pissed and upset and lonely.

Where was Liam?

How long would he be gone?

I eyed the phone, tempted to pick it up and call Liam, ask him to come back here.

But what was I supposed to say?

I didn’t want him to know how nervous I was, how scared I was. That would only make him get more overprotective.

Draining the first glass of wine, I poured a second. There was a fleeting thought that maybe I should eat something – it was well into the evening hours now, and all I’d had at lunch was a salad.

But the idea of eating anything made my stomach twist.

Retreating to the couch with my glass of wine, I curled up into the corner and reached for the remote. For a while, I sat there and sipped wine and tried to watch TV, but the fight with Liam kept pressing in on my mind. Why couldn’t he understand where I was coming from? He’d all but admitted that he wouldn’t be changing anything if he was in my position. Why was it okay for him and not me?

The fact that I had breasts and a vagina instead of testicles and a cock was probably pretty high on the list, and it pissed me off.

He’s just worried about you.

I ignored the quiet voice as I stared at the screen of the TV without seeing it. I finished off the second glass of wine and threw down the remote. Getting up, I emptied the rest of the wine into my glass and started to pace the living room, drinking and brooding.

My head spun a little, but that might have something to do with the fact that I was practically walking in circles across the smooth, polished floors. I felt hot and edgy, desperate for air.

Unable to take it anymore, I strode into the bedroom and closed the door behind me. A door opened to a terraced garden area that was shared with the other bungalow. I was going to go outside and try to breathe.

Carefully, taking care not to let the door shut too loudly behind me, I slid onto the patio and left the pretty wooden platform outside my bedroom door, taking the stone path down into the garden that stretched between my bungalow and several others.

I waited for the vice around my chest to ease up, sucking in air desperately. But the terrace didn’t seem to be much better than inside. I still felt trapped and restless.

The security guards were still at the front door, and I eyed the gate that opened to the paths.

I’d told Liam I’d keep the security personnel with me, but I felt like if I didn’t get away from all of this, I might go mad.

Maybe I’d already done it.

Madness and a whole bottle of wine might explain why I slid outside into the twilight. Alone.

Logic told me I should get back to the bungalow, get the security personnel to go with me, but the fight with Liam had left me unsettled, and I felt like I was going to come out of my skin.

I knew the island better than almost anybody.

If I wasn’t safe here, was I safe anywhere?

Instead of finding that thought reassuring, it left me feeling uneasy, and I paused in the middle of the path, looking back in the direction of the bungalow – the guards.

Damn it, I’d left New York to get away from this sort of shit.

Was it really following me?

It was that thought that made up my mind, and I spun away from the bungalow, taking the first path that veered off to the right.

I was going down to the beach.

It would be quiet this time of day – a storm front had moved in, turning the air chilly and most of the resort guests would be spending time poolside or partaking in other amenities offered by the resort.

It was a perfect time for a walk to clear my head.

* * *

The sound of the water crashing on the beach was normally a sound I found soothing.

Tonight, the surf sounded angry, as frustrated as I was.

A wind whipped off the water, and I wrapped my arms around my midsection, wishing I’d brought a sweater. The cool air did help somewhat though. The fog brought on by wine and not enough food started to clear from my head.

Sand inside my shoes scraped against my feet, and the wind blew my hair into my eyes.

Shoving the loose strands back, I turned and faced the water. I could see the spot on the beach where Liam had placed me after he pulled me out of the ocean.

I found myself thinking about the glint in his eyes, the worry that had sharpened his voice as he yelled at me.

Shivering, I rubbed my hands down my arms, but it didn’t do much to help warm me. The chill sank deeper and deeper inside me, and I cast a look back toward the resort.

Normally, just looking at the place made me smile. The lights that came on at twilight always made it look even more welcoming than usual. At least, normally.

But the lights seemed hard and bright now and awfully far away.

I needed to get back to the bungalow.

Coming out here had been an attempt to clear my thoughts, but they kept returning to Liam.

To my father.

To the chaos that had been unleashed on my room while I was in session that afternoon.

It still didn’t make sense.

Maybe what I needed to do was call my father and push him for more details on why he thought I might be in danger. Maybe the two of us could figure this mess out.

With little else offering a solution, I sighed and started back toward the resort.

A low noise came to my ears as I moved forward.

I paused.

I didn’t hear it again.

But as soon as I started walking, I heard that faint noise again…pfft, pfft, pfft…the whispery soft sound of footsteps in the sand. It wasn’t just my feet moving along the beach just then.

I cast a look behind me but saw nothing. Uneasiness crept through me as I stared out into the deepening twilight. Heavy shadows lay across the beach, and I could make out the endless black of the ocean, but beyond that, I saw nothing.

Setting my jaw, I swung my head around and started to move along at a quicker pace.

Again, I heard the echo of a second set of footsteps.

Somebody was following me. I was out here alone on the beach, and I hadn’t told anybody where I was going.

Just a few hours ago, somebody had trashed my bungalow, and now I was out here alone on the beach, still more than a bit tipsy after drinking a bottle of wine.

And somebody was following me.

I started to walk faster. By the time I reached the path that opened up onto the beach, I was running.