pushing his sleek, strong body through the waves.
Regret swells in my chest, hating how deeply I’ve involved him in all this.
There has to be something I can do.
Ideas roam around in my head while I shower, get dressed, and pad through the kitchen. Flint’s in the kitchen now, on his computer. He looks up and flashes me a smile that wants to banish every last doubt I have.
“Hi.” I give him one back, which isn’t hard considering how achingly handsome he is. The hard part’s trying to act and sound normal. “So, I have an idea...”
His brows arch. “About what?”
I sit down across from him, telling myself not to think about what happened earlier. How fantabulously wonderful it’d been. I know I can’t hope for a repeat, whatever jokes we’d cracked about probablies.
“My situation. Something we can do with the people looking for me,” I say quietly, looking down.
Why is it so hard to hold his eyes?
“You want to be a lot more specific, babe?” He closes his computer and leans back. “Why do I get the feeling I’m not gonna like this?”
“Well, it involves letting them see me and—”
“Nope.” His gaze sharpens.
“Hold up, just listen. I wouldn’t let them catch me.”
“Off the table,” he growls. “It’s too risky. You give them a target, the slightest opening, and it might be the last mistake we make.”
“But that way they’ll know I’m alive and—”
“They already know you’re alive, honey. They followed us, remember? When we left your ma’s house?”
My shoulders droop. Of course I remember.
It just seemed so abstract then, more like some weird adventure ride. It’s easy to forget what might’ve happened if they’d caught us, if we hadn’t had backup, and he hadn’t sent them careening into that trench.
“You’re right, they do know I’m alive.” I lean my elbows on the counter, frustrated I hadn’t thought things through. “Guess I’m just trying to figure this out. There has to be something I can do to help catch these freaking monsters. Something I can do to get my life back to normal.”
“We’ll catch them,” he says. “The guys working with me are good. Very good. All trained and vetted, skilled in high stakes tactical scenarios. We’ve done shit like this before and know what we’re doing.”
“I don’t doubt that. I just want to help. Want to contribute something.”
“Well...” he says hesitantly.
“What?” I ask, unable to wait. “What can I do?”
“If I could get inside King Heron’s office, I might find some evidence. Something to help break through the wall we’ve run into.”
He’s still acting cautious, and it dawns on me why. “When are you going over there?”
He quirks an eyebrow. “I never said—”
“No, you didn’t, but I know that’s what you’re planning, Flint.” The notebook I’d drawn in earlier is on the counter. I reach over and slide it in front of me, flip open a new page, and pick up the pencil. In seconds, I have the outline of the office on paper.
“I don’t have a key, so I can’t help with that, but I can draw you a little map of the interior.”
“That’d be great,” he says.
The faster my hand moves across the page, the more excited I get.
“And you know, I think I know the perfect way you get in—chickens!”
“Chickens?” He stiffens in his seat and blinks at me.
I giggle. “Yep. The wild chickens roaming around everywhere on Oahu. There were plenty hanging around there the last time I went by the office.”
“Babe, you’re not making sense,” he says slowly, totally confused.
“They were even down by the docks. My father always hated them, said they’d get in the way. Sometimes they even stowed away on the ships. So he had the office sprayed pretty regularly to cut down on bugs, and the chickens would run off somewhere else for food.” Smiling, thinking how cute he’d look in one of those white jumpsuits, I say, “You can pose as an exterminator.”
He seems skeptical at first, but once Cash arrives and hears the plan, we start diving in. I’m so excited to help, I’m nearly giddy.
Giddy over finding information to use against my family. I must be a sadist, more devious than I give myself credit for. Or just a Gerard.
Cash stays well after supper, and I have a feeling it’s because Flint asked him to.
I know why, and though it hurts, I tell myself it’s for the best and go up to bed.
Alone.
I stay there all night, despite the numerous urges I have to go downstairs to Flint’s