I made the mistake of staring at her, and I couldn’t look away.
I watched as she peered at the welcoming horizon. I soaked in her innocence and joy as we drew closer to sun-dabbled buildings, rainbow umbrellas, and patchwork towels on the beach.
She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
She was the most dangerous thing I’d ever encountered.
I had to get rid of her before it was too late.
Chapter Eight
______________________________
Pim
ELDER HADN’T SAID where he was taking me, and I hadn’t asked.
Partly because it was still second nature to remain quiet, and partly because I liked not knowing. I enjoyed the surprise mainly because I enjoyed Elder’s company.
A lot had changed since yesterday.
For two years, I’d never verbally fought with anyone. I’d shied away from any confrontation because I was the one who lost. Always.
But Elder had listened to me. His temper had been bright and brittle, but he’d conceded when I’d asked him to keep me a little longer. The reluctance to do so hurt me more than I’d admit, but I also couldn’t shake the happiness that I’d stood up for myself and won.
I trusted him more now than I ever did when he’d stolen me. My trust was organic rather than forced, and I made the decision to give up clinging to every essential thing—to figure out my own existence, to wade through my awful past, and allow life to unfurl minute by minute and not care where the next hour would lead me.
It also helped that I trusted him to take me somewhere safe, show me something fun, and keep his word that I would remain by his side until I’d given him everything.
Pity for him, I didn’t plan to do that.
There were things about me I never wanted to relive and things I’d totally forgotten. I struggled to recall what it felt like to be Tasmin—to attend university, to have boys cheat off my exams, and be teased by jealous girls. I found it hard to remember how my mother sounded when telling me off or grilling me on a textbook she deemed worthy of me memorizing.
Surely, a normal person didn’t just forget things like that? Had I stored those memories for too long in the crate inside my mind—keeping them under lock and key for their protection only to learn they’d suffocated instead?
“This way.” Elder marched forward, his back straight with authority and eyes narrowed with strict assessment. The jetty we stood on was marked private with the same logo as the Phantom.
I didn’t need to be told this was Elder’s domain.
My gaze flickered to the neighbouring bay where stick figure men and women lounged in the sun and played beach volleyball. I’d expected to head toward town. Why? I had no idea. I should know by now Elder would never do as expected.
Instead of heading toward the marina where countless luxury boats slept while their masters played in the water and in a city full of pleasure, Selix had skimmed us over glassy tides to a large warehouse a little way down the coast. Here, there weren’t as many holiday-makers or ships but the massive yawn in the building ahead showed this might not house many nautical crafts, but it was the creator of them.
The structure was a massive giant waking from a long slumber; its tongue lolled out to accept tasty morsels from the sea. Gigantic windows and rough-sawn cladding had weathered and turned silver with salt frosting. It seemed ancient. However, the interior wasn’t gloomy as we strode closer. Skylights lined most of the roof, allowing plenty of sun to enter for the many people inside. Rays reflected off the bow of a skeleton ship in the making.
Not looking to see if I was following, Elder guided me up a person-sized ramp beside the massive giant’s tongue where a ratchet and chain system sat ready to winch or lower boats into the ocean. Barnacles covered the tide lines, dry for now but just waiting to be submerged.
I noticed everything.
The scent of kelp on the air. The splash of waves as they lapped sedately at the rocks that’d long since covered in shellfish and sea grime. Workers hammered and sanded and scurried and measured the hull of what I guessed was the next yacht to be born.
Climbing from the pier up seaweed-slippery steps, I held the coarse rope handrail long since pickled from saltwater. Elder didn’t take any special notice or awe as we entered the ginormous warehouse where once again the Phantom’s logo took pride of place on the entire wall. Four stories high and interspersed with cupboards and shelving, it was the all-seeing god overseeing this hub of creation.
I couldn’t walk and gawk at the same time.
I stopped.
I needed to look at everything. I needed to know how timber and metal turned from boring elements into shaped vessel. I needed to know where the varnish smell came from. I needed to learn how to master something so intricate.