Grant's Flame (Shark's Edge #5) - Angel Payne Page 0,81

of my skin, as we passed the first couple of basins and finally eased toward our assigned slip. Four dock masters stood with ropes in hand, awaiting our vessel’s return. The captain guided the yacht in stern first, and while his care was to be admired, I was jumpy as hell.

Sleep had continued to be an elusive bitch for me last night, and the crew’s weary faces around me conveyed they’d faced the same. The only creature who seemed to be getting any rest was Robert, who snoozed soundly in his carrier thanks to the mild sedative I’d put in his food this morning.

I filled the wait time by doing something useful. I hurried below to conduct one last check of the cabin Grant and I had shared for two glorious weeks.

Tears filled my eyes and then spilled down both cheeks while I spent several long minutes looking around the room, heatedly debating with myself.

Should I go or stay?

A simple decision from the outside, but not from within.

Part of me felt like leaving the room, let alone the boat, would be like already giving up on him. On us. On everything we’d shared during this journey. It felt like I was minimizing every promise we made. Erasing every forward step we’d taken together. There would be no history recorded to prove we did the work. There would be no evidence we put in the time. The hopes and dreams we told each other, the laughs we laughed—even the tears we cried in here—would all be gone.

Just like he was.

My tears came harder. Anguish choked me, making it difficult to breathe. “Damn it,” I gritted beneath my breath. “Stop it!”

I refused to just give it all up. Not again. I already knew I wasn’t good at moving on. I’d just had a harsh lesson from that textbook. I knew it didn’t end well for a girl like me.

So I was choosing the only path that remained.

The resolve that made sense.

I had to help Elijah find him. This damsel in distress bit didn’t suit me either. Just before Grant left with the pirates, I’d quietly promised him I’d be brave. I wasn’t about to take it back. I would not become a sad, helpless victim.

I. Would. Not.

A soft knock on the cabin’s newly fixed door startled me from my pep talk. I swiped my fingertips across my cheeks and blinked rapidly, hoping like hell I didn’t look like too much of a basket case to whoever was here to say goodbye.

“Wh—” My voice came out sounding scratchy, not that I’d be fooling anyone about my bravery at this rate. After a hearty cough, I swung the panel wide. “Can I help you?”

“Mrs. Gibson? I’m—uh—um—here to carry your bags out.” Christ, if this kid acted any more nervous, I would offer him some of Robert’s kitty tranquilizer. “Also, someone is waiting for you dockside. A gentleman. Just thought you’d want to know.”

“Thank you,” I said quietly. “I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

Through flared nostrils, I sucked in one final, fortifying breath of the precious air I had shared with Grant. It was time to leave, but I couldn’t bring myself to walk out the door. I wanted to throw myself on the floor and kick and scream and have a toddler-sized tantrum.

“Would you like me to wait, then?” the young deckhand asked. “The captain asked me to help you down the gangway if you needed it, ma’am.”

“Not necessary.” I forced a smile again. “But if you wouldn’t mind telling the gentleman on the dock that I just needed a minute and am on my way…”

“Of course.”

With a polite click, he shut the door again.

Seconds after that, I sank to my knees in the middle of the room.

“I can’t…do this.”

Only silence answered back. Not even Robert twitched, sound asleep in his portable bed.

“This wasn’t part of the deal, Twombley. You told me you’d be here to help!”

More silence.

“Grant. Damn it! I can’t do this. I can’t!”

Silence.

Taunting me. Tempting me.

So maybe I’d called the fucker’s bluff.

My hands trembled as I retrieved the smooth white matchbook from the hidden pocket inside my purse. Six dedicated soldiers still stood in my army. But that was all. Just six.

I rocked back on my heels, pulling my hair in desperation. Shit. Why was this so hard? Why did I keep fucking everything up? I knocked on the side of my head with the heel of my hand and instantly thought of Grant’s anguished face every time I’d given

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