I wanted to go back home.
I squeezed my eyes shut for a minute and then took a final draw on the cigarette, which both smelled and tasted of home. Part of it was comforting, but most of it just threw it all back in my face. Everything I wanted and needed was there…or at least it had been. Now there was nothing there for me because she was here. But everything else here – everything in the real world – I fucking hated it all. I hated the cities, the shops, the parks, the docks, the airports – fucking hated it. And the people…fuck, I hated them the most. I tossed the end of the smoke into the toilet and flushed it down.
As I opened the door, I heard Raine scream.
Visions of rapists, murderers, slavers, and drug lords ran through my head as I raced down the hall only to see her with a huge fucking grin and in some chick’s embrace. The girl was dark-skinned, chunky, had wild, dark hair that was just all over the place and a voracious grin. She was squealing at the top of her fucking lungs, holding on to Raine’s shoulders as they both jumped around in a circle.
“What the fuck are you screaming about?” I growled before I even realized what I was saying.
The chunky woman turned to look at me the same time as Raine did, and her eyes bore into my skull, narrowed, then slowly moved over to look at Raine.
“This is Bastian,” Raine said softly. “Bastian, this is Lindsay – we were just happy to see each other.”
“You sounded like you were…fuck it. Never mind.” Now that I had a clear enough head to think about it, it hadn’t been a scream of fear or pain at all, but that didn’t stop it from scaring the shit out of me.
Raine’s eyes went to Lindsay’s, and she looked a little contrite. Lindsay slowly looked from Raine, to me, and then back to Raine again.
“He saved me,” Raine told her, “more than once.”
Lindsay’s hands dropped, effectively releasing Raine. She turned and glided up to me, tilting her head upwards and sideways before standing on her tiptoes to fling her arms around my neck.
“Thank you,” she said. The sincerity was clear in her voice. “Thank you for saving my best friend. I don’t know what I would have done if I never saw her again.”
I didn’t respond, just looked over at Raine as Lindsay hugged me tightly for a moment, then she turned back to Raine and hugged her again, just for good measure. She took a step back, placed her hands on Raine’s shoulders, and looked her up and down.
“What are you wearing?” Lindsay inquired.
“Well…um…this is Bastian’s shirt…” Raine started to say.
“I think we need to get to the market.” Lindsay nodded. “Though you do look fabulous in basic black, that’s not exactly a flattering cut for you.”
Raine giggled. I tried to mentally come to terms with her shedding the last of my clothing, and failed miserably.
In what seemed to be under five minutes, we had sneaked around the reporters and out of the airport, found a taxi, and been driven to the nearest shopping area. Lindsay had given Raine one of her own shirts, which was too big and hung down low enough to practically display her nipples for the fucking world. My cock was pleased as punch, but I wanted to throw a punch at anyone who looked at her, which included John Paul glancing sideways at her from the front seat. I had put my own shirt back on, and we had both been given a pair of flip-flop shoes.
I fucking hated flip-flops.
Just sitting in the back of the cramped taxi, it was immediately obvious that Nick and Lindsay had something going on. Raine’s face scrunched up a little as Lindsay wholeheartedly agreed to sit on Nick’s lap so we could all fit in one vehicle. She didn’t seem thrilled with her friend’s obvious enjoyment in the pilot’s company, and I would have been lying to say I wasn’t intrigued as to why. I also wanted to hold her on my lap and tell her whatever she was worried about would be all right, but I didn’t quite dare. I hadn’t even touched her since we left the island.
The shopping area was a fucking nightmare.
It might have been a nightmare regardless of my current disposition, because trying to follow Lindsay and Raine as they sprinted through clothing rack after clothing rack was fucking exhausting. I would have rather battled a fucking shark to the death than try to keep up with those two. Take all of that and add my own issues, and you have what could only be described as a living hell.
For starters, guys stared at them all the fucking time.