Moonstone: Gems of Wolfe Island One

“Hey,” I say. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

“I shouldn’t have told you. You… You don’t want to know me now, and I understand, I’ll just—”

My God, is that what she thinks? “Katelyn, baby, no. I… None of this was your fault. I just can’t… I can’t… Damn!” I punch the brick wall.

It doesn’t even hurt.

“Luke!” She stumbles backward, away from me.

I’ve scared her, which is the last thing I wanted.

I look down at my knuckles. They’re covered in blood. Still no pain.

“I’m so sorry if I scared you. I just…”

She inches toward me. Meets my gaze. “I want to trust you. I need someone. I need someone who will just listen.” She touches my hand that’s still curled into a fist. “Does it hurt?”

“No.” I may never feel pain again. Not until I rid the earth of every piece of shit that harmed this woman.

This isn’t me. Not anymore. This can’t be me.

I can’t protect her.

“Luke…”

I exhale slowly. “I can be that person. I know we just met, Katelyn, but I like you. I like you a lot.” The word love hovers on my tongue, but neither of us is ready to go there yet.

But it’s just around the corner. Already I feel it. This need. This meeting of souls. Am I ready for it? Hell, no. But it’s here, and I have to deal with it.

I take her hand, and together we walk slowly, getting growls from people behind us who have to pass us.

I don’t care.

I don’t care about anything except Katelyn in this moment.

“Ten years,” she says finally.

I’m going to lose my pancakes now. Really lose them, right here on the sidewalk. Because I know. I already know.

My old man knew about Derek Wolfe’s island in the South Pacific, where the richest of the rich went to hunt. I always assumed they were hunting something exotic—animals they brought in illegally from Africa.

Only recently did I find out the truth. I only hope she doesn’t ask me how I know. I’m not sure I have the heart to lie to her. Not about this.

“Baby, oh my God.” I cup her cheek.

She turns her face into my palm. Her lips brush my skin.

“I’m so sorry,” I say. “And your own cousin sold you into it?”

“I believe he must have. Both of them, actually. And Jared couldn’t deal with what he did so he committed suicide. And Tony…”

“Tony got in even deeper, it sounds like.” She has no idea how deep, if indeed he’s the Anthony DeCarlo I think he is.

“I have to know,” she says. “That’s why I have to see Tony. I have to know why he’d do that to me.”

“Oh, baby. There’s only one reason a man does that kind of shit. For the money. He needed the money.”

“But he was a good man,” she says. “He’s my cousin.”

“Your cousin who’s doing time for drug charges. My guess is he got into debt with some kingpin or loan shark and it was either you or him.”

“You mean they’d kill him?”

“Hell, no. A dead man can’t pay his debts. They’d break a couple legs, scare him enough so he’d find a way to pay.”

“I guess he found a way without getting his legs broken, then.” She sniffles.

“I’ll fucking kill him.” Already my hands are in fists again, and the burning in my bloody knuckles only spurs me on.

“No, please. You can’t get to him anyway. Please. He’s not you. I couldn’t bear it if you became someone like him. Please, Luke. You’re everything that’s good in this world.”

Everything that’s good in this world.

If only she knew.

But she doesn’t. She sees only what is now. This woman believes in me. Believes in what I can be.

And for the first time, I begin to believe in myself.

I’m more than my past.

I’ll prove it to Katelyn. I’ll prove it to everyone.

I’ll prove it to myself.

27

Katelyn

A guard stands behind me as I sit at the Formica desk. An old-fashioned phone is attached to the wall. It reminds me of study carrels. The kind I never got to use because I never went to college.

Columbia was ripped from me the day Tony drugged me.

My vision is blurred when a man, his hands chained, is escorted to the other side of the plexiglass. He’s not wearing prison orange or blues. It’s a dirty beige color, looks like surgical scrubs.

I force myself to meet his gaze, but my vision is still blurred.

I don’t know why. I’m not crying. I can’t cry. It’s like my tear ducts have gone on hiatus. My vocal cords and optic nerves have as well, apparently.

The man picks up the phone on his side.

I do the same.

“What do you want?” a voice says in my ear.

Is it Tony’s voice? It’s been so long. I think it might be, but it sounds different. It’s a little hoarse, but it’s deep.