Siren…?
Siren! She’s my answer. Yes, she and Langston have a weird relationship that I will never understand. They say they are just friends, but I’ve always wondered if Zeke and Siren have an open relationship. There is no way she and Langston got so close without fucking each other’s brains out.
That might seem to make her the last person on earth I should call to help me, but because Siren is so close to Langston, she will call him out on his bullshit. There is no way any of them: Enzo, Kai, Zeke, or Siren would be okay with Langston kidnapping me and threatening to kill me.
But three out of the four will stand by Langston because he’s one of them. Sure, they’ve been nice to me over the years, but I’ve never been one of them—not truly.
Siren is the only one who will put a stop to this.
I dial Siren’s number from memory. Most people in this day and age don’t have many numbers memorized. Call it a skill I learned from being poor, but you never know when you are going to not have a phone, or when you’re going to be in a dangerous situation and need someone’s help.
Like right now.
I don’t expect Siren to answer—I’m calling from an unknown number. And it’s the middle of the night, or at least, it’s the middle of the night in whatever time zone I’m in.
“Hello?” Siren answers on the second ring.
I let out a long, steadying breath, putting all of my trust into this woman.
“I need your help.”
2
Langston
I watch Liesel run away from me.
Somehow, I keep my feet firmly planted in the sand.
I try to ignore all of her features—her toned legs, tight ass, feminine curve of her hips, long untamed hair. It’s like all of her features were specially designed just for me. She’s my ultimate temptation; one I will never succumb to.
I kissed her to wake her up from her nightmare. That’s it. That’s all that kiss was. It wasn’t weakness. It wasn’t losing control. It wasn’t a slip.
At least that’s what I keep telling myself.
Liesel keeps running down the beach, around the edge of the island, until the jungle brush blocks my view. I don’t know if she stays on the beach or bolts into the forest. She’s gone, and I have no idea if she’s coming back.
My throat dries, turning into ash at that thought. She has to come back. I don’t have all the information I need from her.
Married.
That’s what she said. She’s married to that old fucker.
Liesel just said that because of what was on her half of the letter. I suspected that marriage was the first step in searching for Liesel’s inheritance based on what my half of the letter said.
But Liesel married—it doesn’t make sense to me. She would never get married just to go after some treasure, and I don’t think the woman is capable of falling in love.
No, there is no way Liesel Dunn is married.
My skin begins to boil in jealousy just thinking about Waylon touching her. Proposing to her. Her saying yes. Planning a wedding. Saying I do. And then fucking as husband and wife.
I’m lying to myself. It was all too easy to imagine her married.
I hear gunshots, and I know I can’t focus on Liesel anymore. She’s safe. No one knows she’s here. It’s for the best until I can figure out who’s attacking us and why.
If Liesel were here, I wouldn’t be able to focus. And if she’s the target, then she really can’t be here. She’d do something stupid like get herself kidnapped.
I don’t have my gun on me, which is idiotic. But having a gun on me around Liesel is dangerous—for both of us.