He groaned.

His head tipped forward, and his simple outfit of a white t-shirt and grey track pants shivered as he shook himself free from medicine. “Finally.”

I stayed quiet as he hauled his healing bulk forward and set a slow pace to the beach.

Pika zipped between us, cawing with impatience and almost goading Cal into ambling faster. Skittles showed more decorum, just eyeing up Sully’s friend and employee as if she knew how he felt being hindered by a body that hadn’t quite healed.

Half an hour passed as we walked in silence.

When the sea finally came into view and Cal fell to his ass on the sand, his face shone with sweat and his t-shirt turned see-through with his strain.

Sitting beside him, I let him get his breath back before I asked quietly, “Are you okay?”

He gritted his teeth and reclined to his elbows, digging them into the sand to prop himself up. “You can ask me that once and only once. I’m fine. I’m out of breath, and I’m pissed at my lack of endurance, but I’m fine.”

“Okay.” I dug my hand into the soft granules, trying to figure out how to begin. He might be tired from a long walk before his body had healed, but I was mentally and spiritually exhausted from Sully’s tightrope of life and death.

I didn’t have the energy for a fight.

I wished Jess was awake. She was strong and seemed to have a bond with Cal. She could’ve fought on my behalf and prevented any more animosity between us.

“So...did he kill him?” he asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Did Sullivan kill his brother?”

I winced, remembering the slobbering, brain-dead creature in Geneva, but then morbid pride twitched my lips. “Would you believe me if I said we both killed Drake?”

His eyebrow rose, his gaze shimmering with respect. “And that’s a story for another day.” He winced and repositioned himself. “I want a beer in my hand and both of you to regale me with every gruesome detail.”

My smile faded.

I slouched.

I wanted that too.

I would give anything for Sully to wake and share a beer with his friend.

“How is Sinclair?” Cal asked quietly, turning his green gaze to the mirror-perfect tide. Sun spangled the top, reflecting gold on turquoise and promising a refreshing rinse from the humidity that’d slipped down my spine and cleavage.

Sighing heavily, I cursed the sudden press of tears.

No.

Don’t you dare.

I dug my fingers into my eyes, stemming such weakness. I would not cry. Not in front of him. I would show no weakness because if I showed a single sliver of vulnerability, Cal would never help me.

Pika landed before us, pecking at a pretty pink shell.

“It's okay, you know. I won’t hurt you. We’re friends, remember?” He threw me a quick smile. “If you don’t want to talk about Sullivan, then why seek me out?”

I gulped back the wetness in my throat and straightened my back. “Allow me to speak without you jumping in first.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“Just...let me speak, and then you can yell at me, okay?”

He clenched his jaw. “Fine.” Looking back to sea, he added, “I won’t open my mouth until you’re finished.”

“Thank you.” Raking both hands through my sun-dried hair, I sucked in a breath and rushed, “I’m sure you’re aware the police were here. You most likely know a lot more about their visit than I do, seeing as they were here for days before we returned.”

He threw me a look but didn’t interrupt.

“When they came to see Sully, they mentioned they were suspicious of his dealings here and were going to return with a search warrant. I’m...” I looked down at the beach and stroked Skittles’s green feathers as she climbed down my arm and perched on my knee. “Sully might wake up tomorrow or he might never open his eyes again. Either way, his business and records can’t be here when the police come back. And...the goddesses? Well, they need to be freed. They have to go home and all guest access revoked. Drake stole the last of the elixir so at least that’s gone, but Euphoria shouldn’t be used anymore against unwilling participants. Those girls—”

“Should be free.” Cal licked his lips, his stare still locked on the sea.

I let silence colour in the space between us for a bit before I finally asked, “Will you help me or hinder me?”

He sat up, sand cascading off his elbows. Rubbing his chest, he winced from his wounds. “It so happens that you’re not the first to ask me to release them.”

“What?” I sat up so fast that Skittles fell off my knee and plopped onto the sand. She twittered in complaint, waddling away to investigate the shell Pika still nosed around. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, when Sinclair left to bring you back, he called me. Said he didn’t think he’d make it, and as a dying man’s last wish, he wanted me to free the girls, burn Euphoria to the ground, and destroy every aspect of his Goddess Empire.”

I froze.

So many things filled me at once.

Adoration.

Condemnation.

Pain.

“He...he didn’t think he’d survive? Yet he came after me...knowing that?”

“He’s a man in love.” Cal sniffed. “And men in love do stupid things.”

I shivered. “Do you hate me? For being responsible for him hovering in death?”

His head whipped to mine. “What? I don’t hate you, Jinx. Far from it. Fuck.”

My heart stuttered at the honesty on his face. “But...you’ve been so cold to me. You seemed to despise my presence and did whatever you could to stop Sully—”

“Only because he asked me to.”

This was a day of punches.

I felt hammered. As if his voice were fists, delivering blow after blow. “He asked you to keep me away from him?”

“He made me promise I would never let him fall in love with anyone. That he wouldn’t be able to survive it. That he’d do things he’d regret and would probably either end up killing the person he’d fallen for or killing himself.” He sighed. “Seems like he was right.”

A headache formed along with deepest heartache. “When...when did he ask you this?”

“He was twenty-something. Just killed his parents. His trust was at an all-time low. He’d waged war on test animals being released and drowned himself in work. One day, he rescued a cage of cats that’d been used for testing laxatives of all things. The poor things couldn’t stop vomiting or shitting their guts out. He stabilised them. Got attached. They relapsed, and the vets told him that it was their choice to live or die. He didn’t buy it and administered one of his own drugs that’d showed promise in rapid rejuvenation.”

“What happened?”

“They haemorrhaged, dying a messy, miserable death, and I guess he just snapped. He came back that night covered in blood. Whose blood I don’t know, but it was the start of his new crusade of fighting wars, not just in courtrooms with lawyers, but in vicious, violent revenge. He got drunk and made me vow never to let him get close to anything.” He shrugged. “I promised. And I’ve done my utmost ever since.”

Glancing at me, he half-smiled. “The thing is...I know him, and I know you affected him the moment you arrived. His shields shattered. He was hurting. I didn’t want him to suffer, so I did what he’d asked, even if he cursed me for getting in the way. But...” He sighed, rubbing his chest again. “You have to understand, it was never personal. I like you. When he told me to call the guest that afternoon...that you were willing to serve in Euphoria, I knew he was bluffing. There was no fucking way he could hurt you that badly. Not after he’d fallen so hard for you. I figured it was more about hurting himself, so I gave him space. I kept the goddesses in their villas, and the guests far away so you guys could figure shit out.”