I get up and dust myself off. I walk back to my book. More people are on the beach now, but one man particularly catches my attention. He’s wearing a suit, sitting just off the shore, but on his neck is the same tattoo as the waiter from earlier: a cross and prayer hands.
That is no coincidence.
Matching tattoos means there’s a gang, and the fact that two of them are in our vicinity lets me know it’s us they’re after. They won’t do anything while we’re in public, maybe not even when we’re in the room, but we lose that protection once we’re on the road heading home. A perfect situation to take us out.
I don’t know who they are or what they want, but I’m damn sure we’re in danger. I won’t let Amelia know. I don’t want her to stress just yet. First, I need to act natural and then reach out to my brother. We need to come up with a plan to get us home safely.
I rest back in the lounger, and although I hold my book up, I don’t read. I keep an eye on Amelia as she tries to fix my dump of a sandcastle. She might not love me the way I love her, but it’ll be a cold day in hell when she gets hurt because she’s linked to me.
I take out my phone and message my brother, describing the tattoo and asking him to find out what they want with Amelia and me.
The first waiter comes to take my next order, and I get a sparkling water. There can be nothing clouding my judgment, especially not alcohol. This is a life-or-death situation, and I need to make sure we’re the ones that are left doing the living.
Chapter 11 - Amelia
We manage to be friendly, despite the sex, and Frankie’s back to his casual but business-like self. The honeymoon is fun, but Frankie seems distracted, playing on his phone more often.
He steps out of the room to take calls, and I wonder if there’s a problem with business back home. Not that it’s any of my business, but I wonder if it will cut our holiday short.
I wouldn’t mind either way. Staying here is fun and going home just means returning to life. However, it would mean finding out where I fit in with this new life. I guess it could kind of be an adventure, and if Frankie isn’t going to be a dick the whole time, then it won’t be so bad.
He’s good in the sack. I’ll give him that. He always has been, but I have terrible shagging regret. I got the closure I wanted. Frankie made it clear in the morning. We can just keep things the way they are now. In other words, he has no residual feelings for me.
I will be fine. I know I will be. It’s just something I have to accept.
What I don’t accept is the weird sense that we’re being followed around. Frankie keeps me to the public beach, the dining hall, and our room. He has asked me not to do any private activities until he lets me know. This makes me nervous.
I have seen the same three men with the weird tattoos almost everywhere we’ve been. Normally, it’s not something I’d notice, but they stick out. It’s clear they aren’t here for a holiday.
I walk out of my bedroom and see Frankie sitting in the living area in a suit, his legs crossed and his arms on the back of the sofa.
“We need to talk,” he says gravely.
I keep my poker face. “Are we done? Are we going home?”
“Just sit, Amelia,” he says, and I can tell he’s really serious.
I sit down. “Is everything okay? Is my family okay?”
Frankie leans forward, and I hate that he takes his time to tell me what’s going on, only to ask me the strangest question.
“What do you know about your ex-boyfriend, Dave?”
I frown. “I’m not going to be seeing him again if that’s what you’re trying to get at. It’s really none of your business.”
His eyes are bluer than his usual gray today, a clear sign he’s worried about something.
“That’s not why you want to know,” I say slowly. “What’s he done?”
“Did you ever meet any of his family? Know anyone that he knows?”
“We ran in the same circles. I know he’d occasionally deal drugs to some of the people I know.” Frankie frowns, and I hold up my hands. “I didn’t party like that. Alcohol is my friend. But…” I pause. “No, I didn’t really know his family. We weren’t that close yet, and he was a bit secretive.”
“And with good reason….” Frankie says, sighing deeply. “Amelia, your little ex is the nephew of a rather prominent drug mogul.”
I look at him with raised eyebrows. “Oh, wow, he didn’t seem that important.”
“This is no time for jokes, Amelia. We’re being followed by members of his uncle's gang. We’re in danger.”