men in wetsuits start unstrapping the jet ski from the back. “I’m confused,” I admit as we approach the wooden steps of the cabin.
“What are you confused about, Rose?”
“This place. It’s yours?”
“Everything except the land it’s on.”
We enter the cabin, and I come to a stop in the doorway, unable to grasp what’s going on. There’s a massive café to the right, a shop stocking all things water sports to the left, changing rooms up ahead. And virtually everyone is wearing wetsuits. “Jet skis,” I say to myself as Danny passes me, heading for the serving counter of the café.
“Yes, jet skis.” He looks back as he pulls his phone from his pocket. “Drink?”
I join him and scan the refrigerator. “A coconut water, please.”
Danny orders, while I spend more time absorbing the space. My presence hasn’t gone unnoticed, many people—men and women—looking this way. He hands me a carton and I’m left to follow him out onto the decked terrace looking over the water. It’s stunning. But . . . “Jet skis?”
Pulling out a chair for each of us at a table at the far side, right by the railings, we sit, and Danny spends a while gazing out across the water. The noise is loud but bearable. “I deal in them,” he tells me without looking at me, unscrewing the cap off his water.
He deals in jet skis? I’m at a loss. The consignment, the deal, the handover. It’s for jet skis?
“This part of the bay is a prime location. Still waters, good depth, plenty of space.” He takes a swig and leans back in his chair, pulling off his baseball cap. “The top competitors train and practice here.”
“Oh.” It’s all I have.
“We offer lessons, sell the equipment, and import the top performing machines for sale.”
I laugh under my breath. The cold-blooded killer deals in jet skis. With my coconut water at my lips, I look across the water, squinting from the sharp sparkles reflecting back at me from the low sun. “Is that another boatyard?” I ask, pointing to the other side of the bay. I can just make out a ramshackle of a marina in the distance.
“That’s Byron’s Reach.” Danny sounds thoughtful as he tells me. “I’m in the process of buying it.”
Ah. So that’s the marina he wants. “Why?”
“They’re developing this land soon. We have to be out in a few weeks.”
“Well, what about this building? And the beach and this deck?”
“I’ll rebuild it all across there.” He cocks his head, indicating over there. “It’s a much better location. Bigger. More potential. More secluded.”
“This is pretty perfect.” I shrug, thinking it’s a shame that all of this will no longer be here soon. “It’ll take you months to rebuild all of this. Can’t you keep this place while you build?”
“Sadly not.” Danny stands, downing the rest of his water before setting his empty bottle on the table. “Had I secured Byron’s Reach a month ago like I’d hoped, then maybe. Unfortunately, buying it hasn’t been as smooth as it should be.”
“Yes, I heard.” I smile cheekily when he raises his eyebrows. “But just think, had you gotten your marina easily, we wouldn’t be having all this fun together.”
Danny smiles on a shake of his head. “And what a travesty that would be,” he muses, flipping his baseball cap on and pulling his phone out when it rings. “I have a few things to sort out. Don’t go far.”
I roll my eyes and kick my feet up on a chair, happy to sit here and smell the water, breathe in the fresh air, and soak up the sun. I shouldn’t enjoy it, but in my world, a moment’s peace, any moment I can grab, should be cherished.
But . . . jet skis?
* * *
A while later, the noises are no more, the sun is beginning to set, and it’s even more beautiful out there, the water calm and still. I stare across the sea, an odd sense of tranquility blazing through me. Despite everything, I’ve sat here this whole time without that lingering familiar sense of foreboding. I’ve not been on the edge of my seat. I’ve not dreaded this moment ending or being disturbed by my real life. It defies reason, since I’m still very much a prisoner, but . . . why? I shouldn’t be feeling peaceful. I should be more afraid than ever. It’s him, you fool. He’s as fucked up as you, and you find comfort in that.
I look over my shoulder to