SADIE
THREADS OF MOONLIGHT STOLE IN around the blinds.
I glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It read nine seventeen p.m. I couldn’t believe I’d slept for almost six hours.
Irritated with myself, I sat up in bed and threw back the sheets. It took me a moment to gain my bearings, but once I did, all the bad came rushing back.
I was a mess.
Bringing my palms to my temples, I pressed them against the vibrant ache. Alcohol might have helped me forget, but the aftermath was a bitch to deal with.
I made my way into the spacious bathroom equipped with his-and-hers showers, a deep soaking tub for two, and double sinks.
Somehow I managed to brush my teeth with the spare on the counter and shower without thinking about what I’d done.
There wouldn’t be any flights out of Antigua tonight, I was certain. So, in the morning, I would head to the airport and face my destiny. But as for tonight, I was stranded here. In this giant, gorgeous room that didn’t belong to me. Alone.
My stomach rumbled.
I needed to get something to eat.
Ordering room service was out of the question. I wanted to stay as far away from having to pretend to be Sarah Banks as I could.
After putting on my wig, I left the bandages off and put the severance clothes that I wanted to burn back on and walked out the back door onto the beach. I followed the torch-lit path to the lobby where I hopped on the resort tram and took it to the farthest point possible. I’d left my purse behind. It contained my identification—my real identity—and I didn’t want to chance having to use it. It was better to go without.
Charge it to the room.
Steal some more, which I hated but knew I had to do. I’d pay everyone back. I would.
Fifteen minutes later I found myself at an intimate restaurant tucked away at the very tip of the resort.
The wait for a table was over two hours, but there was an outdoor Tiki hut in the back, and I decided a stool at the bar would do.
The place was loud.
Music.
Everyone celebrating something or other.
Toasting.
Laughing.
Smiling.
“Wanna start a tab?” the bartender asked.
I nodded. “Room 123.”
I’d pay this Sarah Barnes back for the airline ticket, the room, and the meal as soon as I could. I would.
I ordered one of the frozen umbrella drinks with the special rum and the Calypso Chicken. My stomach rumbled again as I took a bite of the fresh banana wedged onto the side of the giant fishbowl glass. It struck me then that I couldn’t remember the last real meal I’d eaten.
It might have been weeks ago. I knew I’d dropped at least five pounds, maybe ten since this all started. I looked at myself in the reflection of the glass-topped counter and saw hollow cheekbones.
I hated what I saw, and not just because I looked like shit.
The big sturdy glass was heavy, and as I sipped it I watched the happy couples all around me. They seemed overjoyed about their vacation destination. I’d never gone on a real vacation. They also seemed elated to be with the one they were with. I’d never been in love. Never wanted to be. I saw what losing it did to my father. Yet all of these people seemed overjoyed. They’d somehow managed to make it work. Then again, they hadn’t grown up on Moon Island, where heroes turned into rebels and rebels turned into villains in the blink of an eye.
For the hundredth, or maybe millionth time, I tried to figure out how I’d ended up where I was and wondered what I could have done to change it.
It went back. Way back. To when I was twelve? Seventeen? Twenty-eight? I couldn’t be certain, but I was certain of three things:
1. I should have never let my father back into my life.
2. I should have never thought he could actually stay sober.
3. I should have never let him tell me his secrets.
By the time I finished eating, I had drank two more fruity concoctions and decided I wasn’t going to stop there. I had the night to get through, and trying to do it sober felt like an impossible feat.
With getting drunk in mind, I ordered another drink and continued to watch the couples in mad love.
Kissing.
Touching.
Whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears.
It was beautiful to watch.
Tomorrow I’d be going to jail, and I’d never have anything like that. Maybe I should have opened my heart up to someone so I could have experienced true love.
Even just once.
Even just for a little while.
I didn’t know why Sundance came to mind.
Jaxson Cassidy.
A beautiful man with a tortured soul, like mine.
The ocean scent should have given it away, but I was lost in the memory of last night and I thought I was imagining it.
“I have no idea what you’re doing on this island, if you’re following me or if this is just karma, but either way I’ll give you one minute to convince me why I shouldn’t call the police right now,” growled the deep, raspy voice in my ear.
Chills ran up my arms and down my back. I swallowed and then took a deep breath.
I knew who it was.
An arm on either side of me had me trapped in my seat. I was caught, and I wasn’t sure I cared because he had been the one to catch me. Tall, dark, gorgeous Sundance, whose arms I longed to hold me just one more time, just not in the malicious way he was doing right now.
His strong hands gripped the bar’s edge. I felt like a bird in a cage. I hated that feeling and my instincts kicked in.
Run. Run. Run.
Like this, in my high heels, I couldn’t though. So, I turned and faced him. “Sundance,” I whispered in a horrified gasp. “What are you doing here?”
His entire body jerked, but it only took him a moment to recover. “Funny, but I just asked you that very question.”
“I . . . I . . . I—” I couldn’t get anything out. My entire mind was going haywire.
“I’m waiting. Tick. Tock.”
With my heart thumping so loud and beads of sweat running down my neck, my breath caught in my chest when I tried to speak. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, so you said . . . in your note. Tick. Tock.”
The hairs on my neck stood on end. He was over six-foot tall and a mountain of lean muscle. I was skinny, weak, and in no way a match for him.
Alarm raced through me. I was petrified. Not of him, but of being turned in on this island. Being locked away in a foreign country. Never getting out. And so I did what I had to do.
In a bar crowded with so many people, where none of them were paying any attention to me, to us, I arched my toes, allowing my shoes to quietly slide from my feet, and then like a bat out of hell, I ducked under his arm and ran as fast as I could.
It was, after all, the only thing I knew how to do, and do well.