Come - Page 24/26

I start the hot water and watch my naked self in the mirror as I wait for it to warm up.

Why am I still here? In this apartment? In this town? On land? Is it really possible that the Admiral has no idea where I’m at? I mean, I was careful when I left. I poisoned the entire ship. They were sick as dogs, even the captain, so we were dead in the water about sixty miles south of Tahiti. I might even have killed some of them. I have no idea, because our ship has a very nice tender boat. One of the nicest in the world, just like the super yacht that carries it. And since my entire life, from birth to that moment when I opened the garage door and lowered the tender out onto the sea, was spent sailing the oceans of the world on these massive yachts, driving it straight to the port all by myself was not at all difficult.

We’ve been to Tahiti lots of times. So many times I was recognized. And welcomed. Of course, I’ve never showed up alone before, but this was the day after my birthday, I told them with genuine excitement. The adrenaline coursing through my blood was making me jittery, but the local customs agent took it as nerves from being on my own for the first time.

I got everything in order at the dock, paid the fee. And took a cab straight to Faa'a International where I boarded a plane to Hawaii. I stepped off that plane Harper Tate and boarded the next one as Jillian Stewart. And when I landed in Los Angeles I was free.

I had one backpack, but it contained a key. A key my brother gave me the day before our eighteenth birthday. I have no idea how he got a hold of it, but I didn’t ask. Because that was our last day together and I was still in denial that he would leave without me.

It’s not like he had a choice. They took him. But he left behind the key.

There was an address and a number engraved on it. I took a cab to the UCLA Library, rode the elevator up to the fifth-floor quarter lockers. And found my future.

Thirty thousand dollars. A phone number. A phone. A flash drive in the shape of a fish. And a bottle of Ativan, with a warning on the outside from Nick not to take them unless it was absolutely necessary. It took us six months to wean me off them. It was a long process and even now, after being mostly clean for almost a year, I still run to the pills when things get overwhelming.

And then I took my money, called the number, took a cab to the address, paid the rent in full for one year, and sat down in that solitary chair in the living room and waited.

It took me weeks to settle in. I looked over my shoulder everywhere I went. I imagined my life if I had stayed one more day. Married off to some old man.

That’s what my father was planning. It was no secret that Nick and I would be separated on our eighteenth birthday, but they kept this little marriage deal quiet until I was sixteen. Then ever so slowly, hints would be dropped. Oh, Harper, you will make some lucky man very happy when you turn eighteen. Hints like that was how it started. But by the time I was seventeen they were overt. Which dress do you like for your wedding, Harper? the shoppers in port would ask me.

Have I won? I have a beautiful assassin in my bed. I’m still free. He didn’t kill me—he f**ked me. I’m falling for him. He makes me feel safe. I want to be next to him. Even now, I want him.

But maybe he’s just as good at picking battles as I am?

There’s a small knock at the door. “Harper,” James says quietly. “Everything OK?” he doesn’t wait for my answer, just turns the handle and opens the door. I smile at him. I can’t help it, he’s so damn beautiful. “Shower?” he asks, nodding his head in the direction of the steaming hot water spraying down in the tub.

I nod and smile. He walks over to the shower knobs and adjusts the temperature, then pulls out the top drawer of my vanity and finds a new shaver. I raise my eyebrows at him. Not about the shaving. I believed him when he said he’d do it. But the fact that he knows where I keep the shavers means he’s checked out my entire apartment when he was in here stalking me.

“Does that creep you out?” he asks, like he’s reading my mind.

“Yeah,” I answer back, nodding. “Why were you watching me?” I try not to be accusatory, but that’s how it comes out.

He takes my hand and leads me over to the shower. He steps into the tub and I follow. He stands under the spray of water and closes his eyes as he drags his hands down his face and then he shakes his head, sending drops flying in my direction and messing up his hair in a way that makes me crave his touch.

He steps out of the water and gently maneuvers me in his place. I tip my head back and enjoy the pulsations and the stream flowing down the back of my head. I step away and drag my fingers over my eyes so I can watch his soapy hands massage my arm.

“Once I made you, I had to figure out who you were. I had a good idea. I’d seen the pictures they circulated a few months earlier. They knew you were here in the LA area, that passport fooled no one once they accessed the security footage. So I suppose that’s why they wanted me to take my time off down here in the OC.”

“Do they know where I am exactly?”

“I haven’t reported you,” he says simply. But that’s not really an answer.

“Won’t you get in a lot of trouble? For keeping me a secret? Won’t the Admiral be pissed when he finds out?”

“Maybe he doesn’t find out?” His hands move onto my thighs. Lathering them up with soap. Dragging his palms all the way down to my calves, then sliding back up and dipping between my legs to tease me. He gets my pubic hair filled with bubbles and then taps my inner thigh lightly. “Open your legs, Harper.”