Dollars (Dollar #2)(49)

No, she would never be that innocent or happy again—no matter if she was with me or the mother I couldn’t track down. Such hardship and evil she’d endured marked someone forever. Sure, she’d find pockets of happiness tucked in the overalls of life, but most of the time, those memories would steal her back, reminding her time and time again what she could never run from.

I knew because that was my life. And it f*cking sucked.

Her head tilted until her eyes met mine. The rare freedom on her face vanished, smothered beneath distrust and wariness. Taking a step toward the black car that’d brought us here, Selix dashed in front to open the door for her.

I stalked behind, never removing my eyes as she gathered her long dress and slipped into the shaded leather interior.

The thought of returning to the ship so soon didn’t entice me. Even that rarity pissed me off. Normally, I couldn’t wait to run from crowds and chaos. However, nothing called to me to return. The only thing that did was locked in a secure box with its bow freshly strung ready to play. I hadn’t created music since Pim stepped on board. Solving a different problem in my stowaway had buried the itch.

If we returned to the Phantom, Pim would vanish to her rooms. I would vanish to mine and we would be right back where we started before I dragged her outside.

No.

What do I want from you, girl? And why can’t I decide how to take it?

“Get out.” I marched forward, yanking the door from Selix as he moved to close it. Pim looked up in shock. “We’re walking back.”

“But sir—” Selix cleared his throat. “It’s height of the day, the heat—”

“Don’t care. It’s only a few kilometres to the port. I want some exercise.”

Selix wisely kept his mouth shut and didn’t mention we’d exercised together just this morning in the marital arts gym a few decks below. He’d favoured crescent knives. I’d wielded a katakana sword. It had been fun.

Pim glanced from my bodyguard back to me, her eyes widening.

I held out my hand like a gentleman, battling the urge to yank her from the car and drag her to my side. If Pim was ever going to be strong enough to give me what I wanted, she had to start making decisions and take responsibilities for those decisions.

Perhaps that’s what’s missing? She’s never been given a choice. Not by me or Alrik. Chances are not even by her own mother.

I’d given her a choice this morning to come with me.

The least I could do was give her another. “I’m walking. You’re welcome to join me.” I closed my hand, dropping it to my side. “Or you can drive back with Selix.”

Her mouth parted, searching for a trap.

Selix stood calmly, his black top knot glistening in the hot sun.

A few seconds ticked past. Sweat tickled my back beneath my jacket. Shrugging the linen off, I threw the blazer past Pim to sprawl on the backseat. The muggy air on my white t-shirt didn’t really help, but I couldn’t be assed wearing more clothes than what was needed.

I suddenly had a small understanding for Pim and her aversion. If she’d been trained to accept nakedness as her uniform, how hard would it be to go back to confines of elastic and thread?

My patience stretched thin. “Are you coming or not?” Facing away from the car, I took a step toward the bustling street where street vendors hid under the shade of their cart sails and shopkeepers did their best to keep away flies and ragamuffins.

Pim bit her lip; her hands splayed on the car leather. The anxiety on her face from being forced to choose made my gut clench. “There is no right or wrong answer here, silent one. You return to the boat either with Selix or with me. I won’t hurt you for choosing.”

Still, she didn’t decide.

“Fine. I’ll make it for you. Go back to the boat with Selix. You’re probably still too weak to walk that far anyway.”

The moment I spoke, she leapt from the car, hiding her wince from sore knees. Keeping her head high, she came to my side as if daring me to call her weak again. I’d probably get my ass kicked by Michaels when we boarded in a few hours, berating me for dragging his patient through grungy streets, but I couldn’t hide my grin as I struck off with her glued to my shadow.

“Fair enough. Let’s walk.”





WHAT WAS THIS new game?

What were the rules? How should I act, behave, or respond? There were so many unfinished games between us, I was lost on how to continue.

For fifteen minutes, I kept pace with Elder’s long stride as we headed toward the dock. Cafes and shops bustling with people with families and loved ones, people who had their own burdens to bear, slowly blocked the sea view.

Had one of them been kidnapped? Did they share a story similar to mine or was I an anomaly here, just like I would be if I ever returned home?

Elder kept glancing at me, but he didn’t speak, letting silence weave us together instead. If he was trying to use quietness against me, he wasn’t successful.

Ever since we’d walked into that restaurant, I’d been hyper-aware of everything about him. For three hours, he sat and answered every question with fluid intelligence and grace. He wasn’t just a business owner who barricaded himself in a seafaring tower and let minions do the work. He was the business.

My mouth had parted multiple times when technical terms and complex mathematical calculations were given in mere seconds of being asked. With his attention on Dina and her husband, I was free to watch, to listen, to understand.