“El—”
“No. Listen, Pim. I get that you’re not ready to use your old name. Just like I’ll probably never use mine. I’m no longer that boy. And good fucking riddance.”
Cupping her cheek, I couldn’t tear my gaze from her lips. I wanted so badly to kiss her but after this confession—this completely unplanned and shockingly stupid confession—I had no willpower anymore.
All it would take was for her to lean forward and press her mouth to mine.
And it would be all over.
The dishes would be on the floor, Pim would be on the table, and we’d have an entirely different dinner than the one we’d come here for.
My voice tore with a growl as I fought myself yet again. “I demand to know everything about you. Every scrap of thought and fragment of memory I want to hoard. I need to make it mine. But to balance such a demand, I should be willing to share myself. But I’m not ready. I might never be. I have so much I wish I could erase. So many things I never want you to know. And because of that, whatever we have will forever be unequal. I’ll always demand more from you than I can give, and that is yet another debt I’m struggling to bear.”
I needed to leave before I told her anymore incriminating failures.
Letting her go, I stood and kissed the top of her head, lingering over the soft scent of vanilla and sea salt. “I need to be alone, Pimlico. Don’t come find me.”
I left before I could change my mind.
Before I could drag her into my lap, beg her for forgiveness, and bury myself inside her.
I left before I could create any new mistakes when I was trying so fucking hard to rectify my old ones.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Pimlico
FOR FORTY-EIGHT HOURS, I did my best to give Elder some space.
I’d found him in his office the next day, but after a stilted, distracted conversation about the weather, I’d left him to drown himself in work.
The rest of the day, I’d relaxed on my balcony and watched the horizon blur into one magical line where tide met sky and sizzled with sunshine.
The next afternoon, I headed up on deck only to find Elder at the bow with binoculars pressed to his eyes, his back rigid, and the faintest outline of another vessel on the horizon.
When I tiptoed beside him and stared at the faraway vessel, my skin prickled from the crackle of energy he gave off. His whole persona was tense and brittle, ready to shatter at any moment. Only, when he shattered, I had an awful feeling he’d take out entire cities with his rage and regret rather than just implode.
I stood beside him for twenty minutes before I got up the nerve to ask if he knew who manned the boat behind us.
He ripped the binoculars away and gave me a look so black and bleak, I struggled to catch a breath.
A moment later, he returned to looking through the magnifying glass only to mumble something about an urgent meeting with his captain then vanish to the bridge.
Something nasty gnawed at him. Something that had nothing to do with me and everything to do with his past.
Chinmoku.
Did he expect them to find us here? Was his worry over going to war or their involvement in the QMB and my fate?
My questions sank to the depths of my belly and made me nauseous.
That night, I ate alone even though he sat beside me. We exchanged salt and pepper, we commented on how fragrant the chicken laksa was, and once again, we shared awkward pleasantries on the weather.
Ever since the botched origami lesson, he barely made eye contact with me. I knew in his mind it was out of respect...to give me time to get used to the idea that his entire wealthy existence was based on a lie, but his lack of friendship left me stranded and chilly.
I was lonely even as I shared dinner with him.
The questions in my stomach curdled until all I wanted to do was hug him and say I didn’t care if his name was fake and his wealth was stolen. All I cared about was him. The man I knew right here, right now. The man who could have nothing and no one and I would still love because I recognised his soul as one that I valued and respected.
When dinner was over and I’d burned more calories in stress than I’d consumed, I tried to ask why the presence of another boat unsettled him so much. His eyes once again blackened with protection and temper, delivering a harsh chuckle designed to sound light-hearted and carefree but was the heaviest blood-icing laugh I’d ever heard.
For the first time, I didn’t find comfort in his presence; I only found frustration from not being allowed to share his burdens.
I stood and said a quiet goodnight, only for him to escort me wordlessly to my room.
And then, after we parted painfully outside my door, I locked the handle for the second time.
I willingly accepted what Elder told me to do and withdrew a little. I locked the door because he told me to. Because he wanted that barrier between us. Well, he’d successfully erected one by cutting me out of his problems.
With my heart raging, I padded onto my balcony and stared at the starry sky. No signs of another boat. No lights on the horizon or billowing sails.
We’d travelled past other yachts and schooners before, especially when we left Morocco. Therefore, I couldn’t understand why Elder had gone from exchanging friendly horn blows to glowering at them through binoculars.
If he truly believed the Chinmoku would attack at sea, why was he worried? He said so himself that the Phantom had more weaponry than it needed.
That night, I didn’t sleep well. Dreams of pirates and kidnapping and men in black masks kept me company. By the time morning came, I was relieved to open my curtains to a bright sun and empty horizon.
Once again, I had breakfast on my own.
My mind returned to the secret Elder had told me. His biggest secret perhaps. If it wasn’t, I didn’t know how I would endure yet more heart felt revelations. If I was any other person, I might judge him for taking a life of financial security from one man and claiming it for himself. If I hadn’t seen how pure he was beneath his temper, I might’ve pulled away.
But I didn’t.
And then Selix found me and told me the parts Elder hadn’t.
After finishing a simple breakfast of muesli and yoghurt, I strolled the deck looking for something to keep me entertained. Looking over the railing, I spotted Elder as he swam in the ocean below, cutting through the tide like a great white shark.
Resting my elbows on the balustrade, I settled to watch the man I loved pummel his frustration and anger out on unsuspecting waves. Selix found me mulling over rights and wrongs and how I could accept some but not others.
He mimicked my position, watching companionly as Elder did his best to outswim his demons. For a few minutes, I tensed, still mildly uncomfortable where Selix was concerned.
What did he want?
I doubted he wanted to talk. He was too loyal to Elder for that. However, it didn’t mean I had to obey such rules.