Hundreds (Dollar #3)

Ridiculous, Pim!

He was neither a boy nor my friend—as I’d just deduced. And partner? Wow, that was a stretch. The connotations that word hinted at weren’t true. He wasn’t my partner. He could never relax enough to allow another person to share his life the way a partnership demanded.

He was my protector.

That’s all.

And for now, that’s all I could ask for.

All I wanted.

Lying again.

I wanted more.

I wanted what other men and women had.

Don’t I?

Was that another lie?

If I wanted a physical relationship as well as emotional, why couldn’t I untwine the enjoyment I had for his kisses from the fear of full-on sex? Why did I still live with the fangs of a panic attack coiled in my chest like a venomous viper?

Elder was a fully grown man with needs—needs he’d hinted at. Needs he controlled thanks to a calming drug.

That’s not normal.

Is it?

I hadn’t dabbled much in the dating pool, but relying on drugs to combat a personality flaw was never a good sign.

“A tour? Yes, of course!” Charlton bounced into gear, charging ahead. “It would be my honour to show off the Hammerhead.”

Elder rolled his eyes. “Call her something else. The owner who commissioned her is no longer interested in completing the deal.”

Charlton stopped, his face falling. “Oh dear, that’s upsetting.”

Elder grinned, evil and smug. “Believe me; it’s the best news I’ve had in a while.”

“In that case then…great.” Charlton smiled, snapping his goggles back into prime position on his forehead.

“Lead on.” Wrapping his arm around my waist, Elder pulled me forward and deeper into the warehouse. With Charlton a little ahead of us, he whispered, “Take a guess who this yacht was for, Pim.”

My nose tickled with the scents of sawdust, resin, and beeswax. Too many workers to count all added to the melody of hard work and companionship. A laugh here, a cough there, all serenaded by the clack and whirr of tools.

Moving closer to the almost completed hull, my neck craned back as I struggled to see to the top. The skeletal frame of whatever floating beauty this would be was massive but still not as big as the Phantom.

Elder waved Selix and Charlton away, giving us privacy I wasn’t sure I wanted.

An odd shiver darted down my spine.

Him.

This yacht was for the man who most likely rotted on his living room floor where we’d left him with three bullet holes. The man who would never touch this boat, just like he’d never touch me again.

My hands balled as sudden hate for such a beautiful creation filled me. I wanted to burn it for having any ties to my old master, but at the same time, I wanted to soothe it and whisper just how lucky it was to never have belonged to him.

Elder’s breath burned my ear as he bent close. “Did you guess?”

Vague conversation of weaponry and going to war at sea came back. Elder had fascinated me from the moment he’d entered Alrik’s den. His payment terms of building such a thing included using me. A bargain struck with his hand on my leg and eyes twisting my heart.

I stiffened, moving away from him a little, needing space. “This is what he commissioned you to build.”

I glanced back at the birth of such a boat. Why would Alrik need such a thing? Was Elder right that he’d burned all his bridges and had loan sharks after him? Would he truly have stowed me away and fired at anyone who got close?

You know he would.

He would’ve used me as missile practice.

“It is.” Elder’s face blackened, his long eyelashes staining his cheeks with shadows. “Not that he’ll ever get it.” His shoulders tightened as violence rippled over him, no doubt remembering the unfortunate events leading up to our unusual association. “I’m glad I took his last pennies, and I’m glad he’s fucking dead.” His voice prickled with thorns. “He never deserved you, and now I can rest, knowing I robbed him blind and then killed the son of a bitch.”

I fed on his wicked joy, celebrating Alrik’s death in ways that would probably send me to hell. Murderers shouldn’t take such satisfaction in snuffing out a life. Then again…perhaps that was why we were drawn to one another—the shared event of stealing the worst thing you could ever steal.

A soul.

Even one as dirty and evil as Alrik.

Elder rolled his shoulders, shedding the intense viciousness he wore. “Besides, if he wasn’t dead, I’d probably kill him just for naming such a thing of beauty after a shark with eyes too far apart.” He snorted. “The Hammerhead. What sort of fucking name is that?”

I half-smiled, goosebumps breaking over my skin at the sudden playfulness in his tone. “It isn’t the nicest.” Tearing my gaze away before he could affect me further, I became entranced by the majesty of how simple humans could turn wood and whatever other ingredients they used into a watertight marvel. “What would you call it?”

Elder scrubbed his jaw. “It doesn’t matter what I’d call it. The owner has to name their vessel and seeing as this ship has no owner…it will remain unnamed until she’s sold.”

“She?”

“All boats are women.” Elder shrugged. “I don’t know why, and I haven’t cared to look it up. It just is.”

“Is?”

“Yes, is.” His eyes softened, stepping into the realm he barricaded at all times. “I prefer thinking they’re alive rather than empty. It makes my life less lonely.” Instantly, he coughed as if such things hadn’t just spilled from his lips. His face became sharp and unreadable as he followed the contours of his creation, avoiding my stare at all costs. “You’ve gotten away with a lot of questions today, Pim. My turn. Tell me what you’d name her.”

“Me?” I pressed a hand to my chest. “I don’t know the first thing about naming—”

“Don’t care. Tell me.”

“I thought you just said the owner has to name them.”

“You’re right.” He shoved his fists into his jean’s pockets. Sudden awkwardness fell between us as we stood together but apart.

A few minutes ticked past, each heavier than the last.

I didn’t know how to break the chilliness between us and jumped when he finally muttered a little coldly but full of rich conviction. “Name her.”

“But—”

“She’s just been sold.”

I frowned. “What? How? You’ve been standing here the entire—”

“As have you. The transaction is complete.”

He’d lost it. I couldn’t keep up. “I don’t understand.”

“Name her, Pim.” He turned to face me, his chest proud and t-shirt tight against his muscles. “You’re her new owner. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”

I cough-laughed, shock making my voice tight. “Excuse me?”

“She’s yours.”

“You’re—you’re giving me a boat?”

“Not just any boat. A one-of-a-kind, custom-built super yacht.”

“But—I can’t. They’re worth a fortune. I have no way to pay you back.”