Thousands (Dollar 4)

Guilt infected me at the thought.

The Chinmoku had stolen his life just the way they’d stolen mine. They’d taken his brother and father and banished him from his family. They’d taken my mother and made me vanish from girl to toy.

If what Elder said was true, we both had a reason to fight.

One thing was for certain, I wouldn’t let him go to battle on his own, and I wouldn’t waste any more time pining for something he wasn’t ready to give.

Worst things still existed out there.

Leaning against the door, my eyes climbed upward until I stared at the new lock above my head.

I would never use it to lock Elder out.

I would never treat him with suspicion or coldness.

But for now…I reached up and turned it.

The soft click of the barrier helped eradicate the rest of my panic attack, and I inhaled a shaky breath.

The lock was both symbol and real.

I didn’t lock out Elder.

I didn’t lock out bad memories or future perils or any other nightmare the world had to offer.

I locked out my fear.

I locked out my panic attacks.

I finally managed to say…no more.

I’d had enough.

If the Chinmoku were hunting us…let them come.

They would be the ones dying, not us.

Chapter Fifteen

______________________________

Elder

SHE DID AS I asked.

Locked.

Sighing, I pressed my forehead against her door. My fingers trailed from the unturnable handle and up the lacquered wood, wishing it was Pim I touched.

What did I expect?

Three a.m. and I hadn’t been to see her all day. After hours of strategizing with Selix, I wasn’t good company. It was out of chivalry that I kept my distance. She didn’t deserve my strung-out temper.

Were the Chimmoku involved in her selling or had my mind finally cracked—running around a maze with no answers, bumping into theories, ricocheting off dead ends.

I honestly didn’t know anymore.

It didn’t mean I wasn’t desperate to see her, though.

The wood of her door was smooth beneath my fingers as I rested my forehead against it and breathed for the first time all day.

I let go of my stress and worry and guilt and stood outside her room, finding a scrap of peace just by being near her.

Ever since my brain decided to figure out who had accessed her police record, I couldn’t think about anything else. I couldn’t stop searching with binoculars to see if the Chinmoku sailed behind us. I couldn’t stop checking the weapons cache, ensuring guns and other firepower were in good working order in case of an ocean siege.

I was fucking exhausted from patrolling the Phantom and seeking out any weaknesses. The hull was enforced with carbon fibre. The framework with titanium. Bullet-proof armoured plating encased each of the bedrooms, and the missile defense system was top of the line. If it was a war they wanted, my yacht would stand up to whatever weaponry they had. But if it was Pim they wanted, then I would rip them limb from fucking limb.

I would turn savage and not just shoot them as I’d planned.

They’d taken my family.

There’s no way in hell they’re taking her, too.

For the second time in days, I came face to face with the thought of not having Pim in my life. Leaving her in Monaco showed me the agony I would endure knowing she lived in the same world as me, talking to others, smiling at others, falling in love with others.

That was brutal enough.

But the thought of the Chinmoku taking her, selling her, hurting her….It showed me a horror I couldn’t even contemplate, let alone survive. I raged at the thought of them killing her, of her not talking to others, smiling at others, falling in love with others.

Of not falling in love with me.

Of blank eyes and lost soul.

Of death.

And that unhappy train of thought was how I’d found myself outside her door at three in the morning when I should’ve numbed myself with a joint and fallen into a fitful sleep.

I wasn’t here to force myself on her. I wasn’t here for sex period. The images of her dead and broken did not turn me on in the slightest.

I wasn’t here for any of the reasons why I’d installed the lock in the first place.

I was here to stare at her while she slept—to remind myself she was still alive and safe. That she was here with me and not lost in Monte Carlo. I was here to lie silently beside her, to breathe her in, to hold her close, to bury my face in her hair and try to find some sanity.

I’d turned to her and not the weed in my bedside drawer for comfort.

And what had she done?

She’d locked me out.

On my orders.

Fuck.

I could knock.

I could punch the door and wake her up. I could grab her the moment she opened it, all sleep warm and dream fuzzy, and carry her back to bed. I had no doubt she would welcome me with open arms. She’d run her fingers through my hair and be both lover and mother for however long I needed. She would let me hold her until I could breathe again.