Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One

Ezra

I check my watch for the third time and pace the mansion's front hall. Kindra said she would meet me here. I'm not sure if it's the anticipation of seeing her or the dread of knowing tonight may be our last night together, but my heart won't stop hammering against my chest each time I hear footsteps in the corridor.

Once she finds out I'm the one who ruined her adult life, I'm done.

I've put this off for far too long, and now I've run out of room to hide. Especially with Maverick's impending arrival. If he gets to Kindra before I can get to him, he'll unwittingly blow this entire thing out of the water.

Bennett was right about one thing. It's best if she hears the truth from me first.

Heels click against gleaming hardwood floors, and I turn to face the sound. The moment she rounds the corner, any chance of my heartbeat slowing is gone.

Black hair frames her face in gentle ringlets and soft waves, and though the Caribbean humidity tried to sabotage her locks, it hasn't detracted from her beauty. A purple dress flows over her curves like glistening water. Tiny jewels catch the light and cast glimmers of shifting color on her skin.

She's stunning.

When I finally stop acting like a twelve-year-old boy who just saw a woman for the first time, I raise my eyes to her face. Her smile usually gives me life, but something seems off. The joy formed by her lips and perfect teeth is a lie.

I offer my arm, and she slides her hand into the crook of my elbow. She's shaking.

"Is everything okay, pet?" I guide her to a quiet corner and swat a massive houseplant out of my face. "You seem upset."

Her lips pull into a tight line, and tears spring to her eyes. She shakes her head. "Cat and I got into a fight. She seems to think you're hiding something from me." She swipes away the tears beneath her eyes before they damage her makeup. "Apparently, Bennett said some shit when he thought she was sleeping."

My spine feels like it's going to collapse in on itself. What would he have told her? And why? I know my brother has a big mouth, but I never thought he would wield it in such a way.

"Friends fight, pet. It will all blow over. I promise."

I can promise her that her friendship will mend itself, but the relationship I share with Kindra bears no such guarantee.

This entire situation feels like I'm standing at the gallows. I know my fate, yet I'm forced to march toward it. I'm forced to pretend the last few hours with Kindra won't be the last. I would almost prefer an actual death sentence at this point.

Kindra shifts her weight and rests her forehead against my chest. "She said that Bennett thinks you're no good for me."

I'm not. And she's too good for me. But I say nothing. I won't add to the lies I've told thus far.

"Then again, she was on a lot of drugs. Maybe she just misheard him," she says. She releases a deep sigh and leans back to look at me. "I should probably apologize to her for biting her head off, huh?"

"I think that would be a good idea. I don't know her as well as you do, but I doubt she had any harmful intent. The poor girl doesn't seem capable of malice."

Kindra groans. "You're right. I'll apologize after dinner."

A figure pops around the corner, and a hand waves at me. It's Jim. He's always been the type to greet his guests, which sucks at this moment. I really wanted to get more details on what exactly Bennett said to Cat, but I guess it will have to wait.

Jim has chosen a tux with tails this evening, and he looks absolutely ridiculous. The black-and-white Oxfords adorning his long feet look more akin to clown shoes. If he had a walking cane and monocle, he'd pass as the Planters Mr. Peanut mascot.

"How are we this evening, Ezra?" Jim asks as he claps a hand on my shoulder. His fingers move against the fabric, pinching and rubbing. "What is this? Brioni? Sartorio Napoli?"

"I'm afraid I don't make enough to afford one of those," I say with a laugh. "I just choose what hangs well on my frame, regardless of label."

Jim eyes me up and down, then licks his lips. "Yes, well, it certainly fits well, doesn't it?"

Kindra covers her mouth to stifle a grin. We've long suspected Jim prefers to play for the other team, but he's from a different time. He doesn't realize it's safe to come out of the closet, so we let him stay there, pretending we don't know that he prefers a fat sausage over a fish taco.

The lusty look fades from his eyes. "Well, you'd best be seated. Dinner is about to begin!" He claps his hands together with a gleeful smile, then turns for the dining room.

Kindra and I follow him through the thick mahogany double doors. I have to do a double take once we're inside. The room has been transformed from a traditional—though luxurious—dining room into a themed dining experience.

Strands of glistening crystals swoop from the ceiling in delicate arcs that connect to each of the three chandeliers over the table. They create a dazzling curtain of light. More crystals lie along the table. Chrome charger plates with intricate filigree in the outer rim adorn each place setting, and the table runner appears to be made of woven silver. Jim's pockets are deep, so it wouldn't surprise me.

The guests surrounding the table are just as fabulous. Ice Pick has squeezed himself into a black suit with a red rhinestone tie. Grim and Maudlin Rose sport matching suits, both fabrics the color of the sea on a clear day. Flashy suits and sequined gowns appear everywhere I look.

Then my eyes fall on Kindra again. It's as if everyone is playing at being glamorous, but she truly is. A woman has never captured my attention so fully.

I grip a chair, and its legs squeak against the floor as I ease it out for her. Once she's seated, I take my place beside her. The two seats across from us—where Cat and Bennett should be—remain vacant.

I lean near Kindra's ear and whisper, "I wonder where Cat and my brother have got off to..."

Could they be hanging out? Plotting against me, maybe? Who the hell knows.

"Cat seemed like she planned to come," she says. "I hope our fight didn't change her mind. I probably should have gone to her villa and apologized before dinner. I'm new to this friend stuff."

The defeated look in her eyes breaks my heart.

I place a hand on her thigh and give it a comforting squeeze. "She'll forgive you and all will be right with the world, don't you worry."

She smiles up at me. "I hope you're right."

Metal clinks against metal as servers enter the dining room with gleaming silver carts. Appetizers are placed before each guest. It appears to be some type of sushi roll. Judging by the color of the meat, it's some sort of fish.

"It's safe," I whisper to Kindra.

She heaves a relieved sigh and tucks in.

Glasses clink as wine is served, and hushed conversations vibrate the air. The chairs across from us remain empty, however. I look around, hoping Cat and Bennett may have arrived without my notice, but they aren't here.

The servers enter the room again, this time pushing much larger carts. The scent of seared meat reaches my nose, and I close my eyes and pray that it's beef. I'm famished.

A man in a black dress shirt places a plate in front of Kindra. A bloody cut of steak lies beside a scoop of mashed potatoes and steamed broccoli. Kindra eyes the meat and clears her throat as she places her hand on the server's arm.

"I've had a bit of indigestion today. Would it be possible to request a salad? I'd like something a bit lighter than meat for dinner."

The server looks back at the kitchen before nodding and scurrying off, but not before sliding my plate in front of me. I stare down at the hunk of meat and cock my head as I examine it.

I've cut up enough humans and strung them on meat hooks that I should know what a cooked human might look like. I should be able to tell what kind of meat is sitting in front of me. I've been eating meat for thirty something years, for fuck's sake. But no. I'm stumped.

Too scared to try the steak, I aim my fork at the potatoes, being careful to steer clear of the bloody puddle edging along the fluffy perimeter. Kindra eyes my plate with a longing look, and I offer her a bite of mashed potatoes, which she accepts.

"God, that is so good," she says as she tips her head back. "Maybe I should have kept the plate and eaten around the potential chunk of man."

"You're not a fan of salad?"

She motions to her body. "I didn't get this voluptuous physique from eating like a rabbit."

The server appears again and places a massive plate of greenery in front of Kindra. Her face turns a similar shade of chartreuse.

"Would you prefer this?" I ask, gesturing toward the mayhem on my plate.

She plucks up the fork and shoves a bit of lettuce into her mouth while forcing a smile around the tines. "No thanks," she mutters past the mouthful.

"Ezra," Jim says as he taps his glass, "you're the only one who hasn't taken a bite of this meticulously prepared steak. You really must try it."

I shift in my seat. I don't like having the spotlight on me like this. "What cut of meat is this again, Jim?"

"Maurice has prepared a scintillating cut of Wagyu, straight from Japan." Jim grins and shoves a hunk of meat into his mouth. As he chews, a bit of red juice dribbles onto his chin.

"Wagyu?" Kindra whispers as she picks at her salad. "I regret my decision."

Jim swallows, clears his throat, and swipes a cloth napkin over his chin. "I think his name was Phil. Bill, maybe?"

"Never mind," Kindra whispers. "Spoke too soon."

My stomach tightens. I haven't eaten the human delicacies since the first year at the retreat. I learned to mistrust anything that emerges from Maurice's kitchen.

Jim points at me with his fork. "We won't continue with dinner until you've eaten."

"Go on, Ezra, eat away," Kindra says with a smile. She picks up her glass of water and brings it to her lips to keep from laughing.

My vegetarian lie might have worked on night one, but Jim knows me too well. If I say I've decided to forgo meat, he'll call me out.

With twenty-something pairs of eyes on me and no other way to avoid offending Jim, I raise my fork, cut into the meat, and bring it to my mouth.

An embarrassing pep talk blares in my mind. I imagine a big, juicy cow walking in a field with a chunk of its rump missing as I open my mouth. My throat threatens to close, but I fight it and win.

Sorry Phil...or Bill , I say in my mind as I chew and swallow.

Whatever is going on with my face makes Kindra let out a soft chuckle beside me. She's trying so hard to stay in control.

I choke down two more bites before people turn their attention back to their own meals, freeing me to drop the fork and snatch up the napkin to dab a bit of sweat from my forehead. A swig of merlot helps me wash the taste from my mouth, and I devour the potatoes and broccoli to cushion my roiling guts. It doesn't help.

As everyone finishes the main course, the servers are back again, this time with delicate cups of rich coffee and beautifully caramelized crème br?lée.

Kindra leans close to my ear. "This isn't made with breastmilk or anything weird like that, is it?"

"If it is, I can't be bothered to care. You won't either once you've tried it." I sink my dessert spoon into the cup and ready my tastebuds for the second-best thing I'll ever taste in my life—the first being Kindra.

She digs in as well, and we polish off both cups in record time. Our bellies full, we stand from the table and bid our farewells to the host and the other guests.

The chairs across from us still remain empty.

With an uneasy feeling in my gut, I guide Kindra toward the front of the mansion. Jim's butler nods as we pass, then closes the door behind us as we step into the cool evening air.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" I say as I place my hand on the small of her back and lead her toward the walkway lit by tiki torches.

"Your torment? Absolutely. It's payback for the first night."

I grip her hand and spin her so that she's pressed against my body. Her chest heaves against me as I lean closer for a kiss.

"No, Ezra, gross!" she says with a laugh. She squirms in my grasp, but I only kiss her harder, spreading her lips with my tongue. If I have to have the taste of a human being on my tongue, so does she.

Her fight diminishes, and soon we both forget about my betrayal of humanity in the dining hall.

"Get a room!" Bennett says as he comes up behind me.

We turn to face him, and I expect to see Cat beside him, her claws fully extended, but he's alone.

Kindra's smile falls as she stares past Bennett, looking for her friend. "Where's Cat?"

"Gone."

"Gone like . . . you killed her?" I ask.

Kindra sucks in a sharp breath as her hands press against her stomach. Before she can launch herself at him, he scoffs and shakes his head.

"What? No, asshole. She's gone, as in, she left the island. I just got back from taking her to the airstrip."

Kindra swallows loud enough for me to hear, and my heart hurts for her. "She's gone?"

"Yeah. Said she didn't want to be on the island anymore. I was happy to get rid of her, honestly. Did I miss dinner?"

"You did," I say.

"Well, hopefully they have that banging cream pie for dessert again tonight," Bennett says.

Kindra doesn't move. She doesn't speak. She just stares at the jungle as the darkness deepens.

"Kindra," I begin, but her hand rises to silence me.

"I'm not feeling well. I'm going to go back to my villa."

Before I can argue, she starts down the path. She doesn't even give me a chance to beg her to stay.

My head rotates on a swivel, glancing between Kindra's retreating figure and my brother. I need to comfort her, but I also need to talk to Bennett.

"I'll meet you back at your villa!" I yell toward Kindra.

Her hand rises in a half-hearted acknowledgment as she keeps walking.

By the time I turn around, Bennett has already made it up the mansion's steps. I rush to his side before he can open the door.

"Why the fuck are you running up on me?" he asks as he turns to face me. "Don't you have something you're supposed to be telling someone?"

I reach his side and lower my voice. "What did you tell Cat?"

A crease forms between Bennett's eyebrows as he tries to puzzle out what I'm referring to. "When I dropped her off? I told her I hope the plane crashes."

"That's horrible, but no, not when you dropped her off. What did you say to her after you'd drugged her?"

His shoulder lifts in a nonchalant shrug, and he reaches for the door again. "I don't know, man. She was out of it, and I was just muttering to myself about how fucking dumb this entire debacle has turned out to be. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"No, I won't excuse you." I step closer, putting myself directly into his personal space—which my brother can't fucking stand. "You hurt Kindra, Bennett."

Bennett slowly turns to face me, a look of exaggerated indignation on his face. "Me? I hurt her?"

His hand shoots forward and wraps around my arm. In the time it takes to blink, he's dragged me inside and straight toward the large mirror taking up a wide stretch of the wall between the double staircases. His grip shifts from my arm to my chin as he faces me toward my reflection.

"If you want to know who's hurting that girl, you only need to look straight ahead. If you want to hate someone, hate yourself." Looking in the mirror, he straightens his tie. "Now, if you'll leave me the fuck alone, I'd like to have some dinner."

I hate that he's right, but he is. I'm hurting her.

I turn back for the door. The only place I can think of going is Kindra's villa. She's just had one blow for the evening, since her friend chose to escape in the dark of night, and I want to be there for her one last time. I want to comfort her and hold her until morning comes.

And then I have to break her heart all over again.