Shooting Scars (The Artists Trilogy #2)

“That’s funny,” he said, though his tone was flat. He walked over, smooth and sleek. That whole primal animal analogy came darting in my brain again. Today he was a cat dressed head to toe in olive green. He stopped right behind the chair I was sitting in, so I had to twist around to look up at him. “What was he talking to you about?”


“About how I was going to kill Travis.” And if I had feelings for you anymore. Of course I didn’t want to say that. I didn’t even want to go there.

He peered down at me. “That wasn’t all. He said he was going to teach you to be a bad girl.”

“Well, I don’t know what he meant by that …”

“I do. I don’t like the way he talks to you.”

“Well, I’ll tell you what. If you want to go stick Raul all the way up the crow’s nest, you have my full support.”

Finally his mouth twisted into a smile. He raised his brow and nodded at my glass. “I say the drinking is working. You’ve got a little spring in your step.”

For one split second I was able to fool myself into thinking we were old lovers who were having a lovely cruise together, old sparring partners, shooting the shit. But things couldn’t have been further from the truth.

His face grew colder as he studied me. He turned around and left the room, calling over his shoulder, “Enjoy your book. Dinner is at six.”

He didn’t remind me to eat like he’d been doing at every meal, even though that’s one of the reasons the wine was hitting me so hard. And just for that, I decided I would finally partake in dinner. My stomach punched me in anticipation and I went back to reading.

As much as I hated to admit it, dinner was fabulous. The snapper was so fresh I could have sworn that they’d just caught it off the side of the boat. The coconut rice and mango salad was amazing. The cocktails, syrupy hurricanes, were phenomenal. It was almost good enough to make me forget why I’d been avoiding meals in the first place.

I did my best to put a damper on my enjoyment of the food and instead paid attention to what was going on around me. It was just the four of us since the crew had their own mini mess hall in their quarters. The other man I came to learn was Peter. He seemed fairly intelligent if not quiet most of the time. I didn’t know why he was there with us or what he did but Javier seemed to treat him with respect. Maybe it just seemed that way because he was getting increasingly short with Raul while Raul was acting more and more like a petulant child. I could feel Javier’s authority over him crumbling brick by brick and it kind of scared me.

Once dinner was over, cleared away by the boys who seemed to appear out of nowhere, Raul and Peter retreated to their cabins, leaving me and Javier sitting across from each other at the dinner table. When the last tray was cleared and we were left alone, I felt the weight of the star-filled sky crushing me. The boat’s deck was lit up with tons of mood lights, making his eyes shine as he gazed at me.

It was a steady gaze, not adoring or concerned. But interested. He had always seemed so intrigued by me.

“It’s beautiful out,” he said, his voice dull. “You can see so many constellations out here. None of those city lights. You can feel how … insignificant we really are. Can you feel it?”

I didn’t know if this was a trap or a trick question. Still, I nodded. “Yes. Like God might flick me away with his finger.”

He tilted his head, his mouth drawing into a slight pout. “God would never do that to you. You’re Ellie Watt.”

“Sometimes I am,” I said, hiding my uneasiness with another sip of my hurricane.

“You always are. I see that now. I might have only seen bits and pieces of you before. But now, you’re … formidable.”

Was that a compliment? If it was, I didn’t think I could take it as one since it came from him.

He smiled. “It is a compliment,” he said, back to that whole mind reading thing. “You’re so strong. I’m lucky to have you.”

I nearly rolled my eyes then decided it was a little more serious than that action portrayed. “Javier,” I said slowly, “you don’t have me. Your only luck is how far you’ve gotten in life without someone chopping your head off. Yes, I am strong. And I’m afraid that Raul is right. You shouldn’t trust me.”

“Why?”

I frowned, taken aback at the sincerity in his voice. “Why? Why? I don’t think I’ve ever hated a person more than I hate you.”

He seemed to mull that over, his eyes shining even more. He took a sip of his drink, then sat back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head. “That’s funny. You treat me quite well for someone you hate. What do you do to the people you love?”

“You should know.” I blurted it out before I realized my mistake. The alcohol was ruining me. I was saying things I’d once locked inside my head.

His eyes widened momentarily. I saw a look in them that I never wanted to see again. I quickly drank the rest of my drink and slammed the glass down on the teak table. “Well, here I am drunk and talking absolute nonsense.”

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