Page 64 of Bend
“Race Hollister.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Really?”
“Do you have a problem with it?”
“Only that I can’t believe you. Without some sort of ID, I have no idea who you are. What the hell would make me go anywhere with you, let alone a deserted island where you could chop me into little pieces and feed me to your pet turtles?”
“Turtles aren’t meant to be pets; most animals aren’t.”
“Even posing as a humanitarian, I still don’t trust you.”
I take a step away from her, suddenly drained. “I’m not going to keep begging, Rojo. If you don’t need ten thousand dollars, walk away. If you do, get in.”
*
RED
My stomach twists when I think of the money he’s offering. Ten thousand dollars is enough to tide me over until I find work. Sixty is enough to take a year or two off. Enough to travel almost anywhere I want.
“You must really want this island badly.”
He rubs his forehead, reminding me of a tired child. “I do.”
Even now, standing close enough so I can see the sweat on his brow and throat, he’s beautiful. A handsome villain.
I sigh. “I can’t believe I’m desperate enough to consider this.”
“I’m sorry I called you a money-grubber.”
I meet his eyes and am surprised to find they’re softer now. Probably an act.
I look down at my bag and purse, then around, at the other boats, then out at the sea, which is choppy from the breeze. I drag my phone out of my pocket.
“Let me see if I’ve got service. The e-mail you sent had the longitude and latitude of the island. I’ll copy that and send it to a friend. Just in case you turn out to be a lunatic. Promise me you won’t turn out to be a lunatic?”
He nods, looking surprisingly serious. “Scouts’ honor.”
“Shit. That’s not enough. Just e-mailing my friend is definitely not enough to convince me to go with you. I need something more. I need…I don’t know. A reference. Or maybe I don’t…” I have a Taser in the bottom of my purse. I could always use that.
No—I’ve got a much better idea!
He turns away from me and moves over to the motors and I point my phone at him. With trembling fingers, I pull my camera up and set it on video mode. When he turns back toward me, I get a brief shot of his face and send it, along with a note and the island’s coordinates, to Katie.
He’s leaning back over the motors, pulling on the top of one of them so it rises slightly out of the water, when I notice the bulge in his pants.
Chapter Three
RED
This is a surprise.
Does he find me attractive? This man? I’m not ugly, but I’m no beauty—and I know that. And yet, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have a hard-on for my brilliant personality.
All we’ve done so far is argue.
Maybe he gets off on arguing.
He looks up from what he’s doing and, again, I think he looks tired. Much wearier and more sympathetic than a blackmailer has a right to look.
