“What are you doing?” a deep, stern voice says from behind me.
I jump, not expecting him. After him leaving me naked on the bed last night, we’ve been avoiding one another since we awoke this morning. Or rather, I’ve been avoiding him. Every time we’re in the same room, he stares at me openly, but I’ve been too chickenshit to speak to him.
I’m still hurt, and I don’t even have the right to be. Enzoshouldhate me. I just don’t want him to.
“Having an existential crisis,” I answer mildly.
The sun has set, and we only have a couple of hours left before Sylvester locks us in the room. I needed to take advantage of my time left while I can. I walked to the opposite end of the island to get away, but I still didn’t feel any closer to freedom.
I stare up at the big ball in the sky that controls the body of water I’m treading in.
Screw Poseidon. I think there’s a lunar goddess above that deserves our worship and respect instead.
“Do you believe in aliens?” I ask.
“If you've seen some of the creatures that live in the ocean, it's not much of a stretch to believe they exist elsewhere too.”
I smile. “Do you think I’d be happier if I lived in another world?”
His response isn't immediate, but it stops my heart anyway. “Maybe. But I wouldn't be.”
A soft breeze brushes across my chilled skin, eliciting another shiver to rack my body.
“Get out of the water, Sawyer,” he demands.
I turn to peek over my shoulder, noticing my green bathing suit top dangling in his hand. I’m still wearing my bottoms, but I wanted to feel the water across my skin.
“What will take me first? A sea creature or hypothermia?”
“You'd run from a sea creature,” he states dryly.
I chuckle, turning back to the moon. “You're right. Hypothermia it is.”
“That won't happen, either. I don't think you're ready to die.”
I shake my head. He's wrong. I've been ready. I've just been too stubborn to give up doing the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Live.
“I’ve never feared death, Enzo. I’m only afraid to live and it all be for nothing.” A tear slips from my eye, despite my attempts to hold it back. “I’ve spent so much time running that I don’t remember why I’m living.”
Again, I turn my head over my shoulder to look at him. His jaw is shadowed with a beard, aging him just as deliciously as whiskey.
“Do you remember why you’re living?”
It takes him several moments to answer. “Even as a kid, I was angry at the world, and I was always told that I’d waste my life away if I settled into that anger. Of course, I didn’t care. And until recently, I stayed firm in that way of thinking. I didn’t care about life when I felt so goddamn worthless to the one who was supposed to love me most. Then you came around and stole it from me. Yet somehow, it feels like you gave it back instead.”
Heart in my throat, I spin to face him completely, trembling in the black water. It just barely covers my chest, yet it feels like I’m as exposed as if I were standing before him.
“I don’t see how. I’m broken, and everything I touch bleeds.”
Silently, he walks toward me, first his feet, then his legs being swallowed by the abyss. He doesn’t even seem to notice how cold the water is. I shudder again as he approaches, though it has nothing to do with the icy temperature and everything to do with the beast coming for me.
He crouches in front of me with a fierce look on his face. I'm tempted to rub my fingers across the harsh lines just to see if I can smooth them out.
Then, he leans in close, his soft lips brushing against my jawline.
“Do you know what attracts a predator to its prey,amore mio?”
“What?” I whisper.