Ready to Evacuate Contents.
Selix glanced at me as I pressed the button and began the final step. The siding of the Phantom parted from the mothership, opening wider and wider until only ocean blackness was visible instead of metal reinforced shell.
The cameras in the room showed the van already rocking back and forth, gravity stolen and ready to swim.
Unlike the floating garage that housed the submarine, this one tilted to discard unwanted items rather than waiting for it to propel itself out with motors.
The hydraulics were silent as, inch by inch, the van’s roof tilted in the camera angle, following the trajectory of the floor as it quickly turned into a slippery slope to the yawing mouth of Davy Jones’ locker.
It didn’t take much.
A simple recline and the van started to move.
Slip, slip, slip.
Reaching the lip of the Phantom, it paused for a second then tilted end up, flashing the entrails of brakes and axels before floating out of sight with no bubbles, no noise, no hint that it had ever existed.
I expected a pause.
I waited for some part of me to curse the Chinmoku or say goodbye in some way.
I needed to prove to myself that this was real and not a dream I’d had countless times before.
This was real.
He was dead.
But in that moment, all I needed was the knowledge he was off my boat and out of my life because I had much better things to do than say goodbye to a past that’d shaped and defined me but also ruined and destroyed me.
I’m free.
We didn’t speak as I pushed the button again and waited as the floor switched from slope to horizontal, then reversed the pumps to evacuate the thousands of litres it’d pumped into the chamber.
Only once the room was dripping wet but empty of ocean did I roll my shoulders and breathe properly for the first time since I’d been cast out of my family and turned to revenge as a coping mechanism.
“It’s over,” I murmured. “I can’t believe it’s fucking over.”
I didn’t care there were more Chinmoku out there.
They didn’t matter.
I’d killed the leader. I was their leader. But because I never had any intention of claiming that seat, they would forever be leaderless until a takeover happened, the faction broke up, or good old politics instated a new commander.
Either way, I would be forgotten or revered and no one would dare come after me again.
Not now.
In a twisted code of honour, it would prevent them from hunting me down. I’d proven my worth, and the worthy were permitted to live.
Pim was safe.
My family was safe.
And my enemies were beneath me in the deep, deep sea.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
______________________________
Pimlico
ELDER CAME TO bed at sunrise.
His silhouette showed a sling and brace, hinting he’d submitted to medical attention. He might have antibiotics in his system and outer tools to heal him, but no amount of painkillers or doctors could prevent the seizing of stiff muscles that’d been well and truly overworked.
Our eyes met in the warming light as he crawled under the covers and scooped me close. He didn’t undress. He didn’t speak. He just clutched me hard and exhaled deeper than I’d ever heard.
His hips twitched to get closer, spooning me tight. But there was no sexual connotations—just comfort.
I was in his bed for the first time.
I’d slept fitfully by myself, looking around his room without his magnetic presence distracting me. And now he was here, and there was no mention of rules and restrictions. No hints at managing his OCD or for me to find my own sleeping quarters.
After what we’d lived through, our connection had reached an almost reverent level that didn’t need to be discussed or analysed. All that mattered was we’d ceased to be two people with two separate pasts and futures and blended into one.
And because of that, his exhaustion was my exhaustion. Weights dangled on my eyelids as sleep finally wriggled into my brain. I calmed with his arms around me. I snuggled ever closer.
He moaned under his breath as dreams found him, claiming the man who was utterly invincible, beyond intelligent, and almost super human in his drive to survive.
He was unconscious before I’d fully wriggled into comfort. His belly expanding. His lungs breathing. His body heavy and hot around mine.
Whatever he’d done was over.
The Chinmoku were gone.
We’d well and truly earned our tomorrows.
* * * * *
The moon rose, chasing away the clouds that’d plagued most of the day at sea.
Large swells and rocking yachts meant I’d been happy to stay in bed while Elder slumbered beside me, never waking—even when I stole away to the bathroom and winced at the circlet of bruises around my throat. Not when I went to grab some lunch from the kitchen and filled my empty belly with sustenance. Not when I sat in his office chair and scribbled notes to No One about wars and chains and things I never wanted to live through again.
Transcribing my thoughts to paper helped organise my scattered ideals and conclusions and find the ability to once and for all put it behind me. Just like I’d learned to speak without fear, I was ready to live every day without looking over my shoulder, without second-guessing myself, without doubting those I’d slowly learned to trust.
I was whole now thanks to whatever had clicked inside me while Daishin held me captive. I was no longer lost or afraid.
By the time day turned to evening and I’d napped beside Elder for the third time, his eyes finally opened just as stars twinkled above.
He’d kissed me and gingerly climbed from the bed. After a bathroom visit, he captured my hand and escorted me into the shower.
There, we washed each other silently. Both content not to talk, healing in silence and warm water.
Afterward, once he’d winced his way into a new t-shirt and track pants, Elder summoned Michaels who arrived with his black bag of medicine and checked him over, doling out new antibiotics and painkillers, before ordering him back to bed.
Elder tried to fight his lethargy. He called the kitchen for dinner and strong coffee, but the moment he’d eaten, his body shut down and he tumbled back into sleep.
* * * * *
For two days, Elder couldn’t stay awake for long.
He’d rouse, talk, eat, shower, then fall asleep for long stretches.
Every time he woke, Michaels was there to administer drugs and painkillers, ensuring Elder’s healing kept progressing while his body demanded as much rest as it could get.
On the third day, when Elder once again summoned coffee from the kitchens in a bid to stay awake, he sat up in bed with the doors open for fresh air, and tolerated Michaels’s daily visit.
His eyes locked on mine where I sat across the room in a comfy silver suede chair.
Selix had kindly rustled up a laptop for me to use, and for the first time in forever, I had access to the internet and the news of the world that I’d been hidden from for so long.
As Michaels ensured Elder would live another day, I tried to log into old email and Facebook accounts, forgetting passwords and having to jump through hoops, confirming I was who I said I was.
Luckily, I’d never been issued a death certificate, and none of my profiles had been taken down—not that there was anything newsworthy when I finally did log in.
My email account had been suspended with a bounce back saying it was no longer active. My Facebook feed looked like a stranger’s with girls and boys from school now men and women embarking on careers, marriage, and adventures.
My lonely page was a scrapbook of my past life. A photo snippet of a party I went to but hated. A tag from someone in class making fun of the teacher. A mention in a lip-sync contest held at our sister-school.
Things that would’ve meant something then but now
meant absolutely nothing.
I looked up, meeting Elder’s gaze again, and smiled.
The only thing that meant something was him.
Michaels finished assessing his patient, giving me a wave as he packed up and left.
Ever since we’d embarked on the Phantom, there’d been no stupid discussions of me returning to my suite below; no attempts at pretending we needed space from each other. No stupidity of belittling that Elder and I weren’t a couple in every sense of the word.
In fact, couple was too lacking a phrase.
I was his, through and through. No other terminology would suffice.
“Come here.” He patted the bed where he sat propped by pillows, a faint sheen of discomfort on his forehead. The remnants of a Caesar salad for lunch sat on the bedside dresser.
My heart fluttered.
Closing the laptop, I carried it with me and curled up close to him. “How are you feeling?”
He chuckled, wincing a little as he shifted. “Like I’ve been at war for the past few decades.”
I moved to sit cross-legged, placing the closed laptop on my thighs. My shorts kept my legs bare in the warmth of the suite, my yellow t-shirt draping off one shoulder thanks to being a size too big. “Well, you kind of have, so it’s understandable.”
He looked at the ceiling for a moment, thoughts racing in his eyes. “Is it strange that I feel almost lost?” His gaze flickered to me. “Now that I’ve achieved everything I set out to, I’m left wondering what other purpose I have?”
I shook my head, reaching over to wrap my hand around his bandaged one. “Not at all. You deserve to rest and just enjoy the moment for a bit.”
“I think I’ve done enough resting. I’m bored of resting.”
“But your body seems to think differently.”
“My body can just get over it. I need to do something.”
“You need to just relax.”
He snorted. “Relax? Have you met me, Pimlico-san?”
My eyes widened at the Japanese address.
He sucked in a breath, licking his lips. “Sorry. After talking to Daishin, the other part of my culture is a little more alive in my brain at present.”
“Would you tell me something in Japanese?”
His eyebrow rose. “Like what?”
I shrugged. “Anything. I’d just like to hear you.”
I didn’t say how sexy I found it or how his lips were born to speak in different languages.
He paused, clenching his teeth as if weighing up the pros and cons of embracing a little of his culture that he’d always run from. “You know...my father encouraged me to speak Japanese to make my mother happy.” He sighed. “I always preferred English, though. Probably because I preferred my father over my mother. She was hard to love—mainly because earning her love wasn’t easy and I always failed. Kade, on the other hand...” He drifted off, laughing softly. “He had that witch wrapped around his little finger.”
I let him speak, glad he could finally discuss his family with me.
“Kade loved to speak Japanese.” His voice turned gentle, wistful. “He’d scribble Hiragana and Katakana characters all over the house—sometimes on the walls in our mother’s lipstick. If I’d ever done that, I would’ve been smacked. But Kade...he got away with a lot.”
He glanced at me, full of ghosts. “He was my mother’s favourite. I knew that and was content with it. I had my father’s friendship and my cello, which was enough for me. I suppose that’s why she blamed me so much.” His eyes darkened. “Because I killed her favourite son and survived when I’m sure she’d wished I was the one to die.”
I rested my head on his shoulder, earning a slight hiss from him. “Oops, sorry.” I pulled away from his stitched wound, but he pulled me back. “No, stay.”
I relaxed as he kissed the top of my head, breathing, “Aishiteru.”
My belly tightened at his husky, sensual tone. Something about Elder speaking a different language pulled a cord deep inside me.
I shivered as he nuzzled my hair. “It means, I love you. But not many people in Japan say it that way.”
“They don’t?”
He shook his head, his nose still buried in my hair. “No.”
“How do they say they love each other then?”
“They show them.”
I twisted a little so I could look at him. Our noses brushed. Pressing upward, I kissed him on the lips.
He froze as I pressed gently but firm. I didn’t deepen the kiss. I didn’t pressure for more. I just kissed him because I was in love with him and we were alive despite overwhelming odds trying otherwise.
He kissed me back, his lips softening beneath mine but not deepening the chaste romance. The last remaining tension in my spine finally, finally siphoned away.
Nothing else mattered but this.
Him.
Me.
Us.
Pulling away, he murmured, “Was that your way of showing me you love me?”
I nodded. “I have many other ways to show you, too.”
“You do?”
I smiled. “I can be inventive when I put my mind to things.”
He chuckled. “In that case, I look forward to finding out just how much you love me.” He kissed me swift and hot. “I have so many ways to show you. The minute this fucking body of mine is back to working order, you’ll find out.”
We laughed together as I slotted against him.
I stroked the laptop lid, wondering if any of my old school friends had found someone as amazing to fall in love with as I had. I pitied them if they hadn’t even though they most likely pitied me for what I’d lived through to find Elder.
Silence fell between us, and I guessed he’d fallen asleep again, bound to his body’s healing whether he wanted to or not.
But a faint whisper fell onto the covers around us. “Will you go somewhere with me, Pim?”
“I’d go anywhere with you,” I answered immediately, looking up and locking onto his brilliant black eyes.
“You don’t need to know where?”
I shook my head. “If you’re there, I don’t care.”
He smiled nervously, his gaze alternating between my lips and my gaze. “It probably won’t be fun.”
“If it’s important, then you don’t need to ask or tell me. I’ll go wherever you need.”
“You’re far too good to me.” He kissed my mouth again, murmuring against my lips, “I’ve asked Jolfer to sail to America. There’s one more thing I need to do before I can put my past behind me.”
Understanding burst inside as he pulled away, searching my face for my reaction.
Anger filled me at facing the woman who’d been so cruel to him. Then forgiveness followed, remembering everything she’d lived through when losing her husband and son. The complex recipe made me nervous, but it must be nothing to what Elder must live with.
He’d done everything he could to earn their forgiveness: the deck full of toys and suites for guests who didn’t want to visit. The house in Monte Carlo open to family who spat on its existence all because it was Elder’s.
He might’ve slayed the Chinmoku’s hold on him, but he’d yet to do that with his family.
I cupped his cheek. “You’re going to see your mother?”
“Only if you’ll come with me.”
“I’d be honoured.”
* * * * *
Another couple of days passed.
A pilot Selix hired flew the Phantom’s resident helicopter to us from France and accepted a lift back to the closest port, thanks to Selix acting as taxi driver.
Life chores were completed and hours crept steadily onward.
Unfortunately, Elder ended up with cabin fever, demanding to be let out of bed. Michaels gave him strict instructions to obey doctor’s orders and remain put. After the abuse he’d put himself through, his body needed time to knit together properly. Michaels was adamant, and after a screaming match which Elder didn’t win, he reluctantly
agreed—pissed off and bored but staying in bed...for now.
The next day, while Elder worked on his laptop and spoke to his factory in Monte Carlo about new orders and existing clients, I went online again and read up on what had happened while I’d been captive. It’d been rather eye-opening to read news reports and see just how much life had passed me by.
I read about my mother and her court appearances. I read about myself and my disappearance. And once I was bored with history, I turned to the future and opened a new email before entering in the address Tess had given me.
I hadn’t meant to write to her.
I had nothing much to say.
But with nothing much to do and endless horizons over the next couple of weeks, I found myself opening a new message.
From: Pimlico
To: T Mercer
Subject: Thank you
Hi Tess,
I just wanted to say thanks again for all your help.
I’ll never forget you and your family and what you do saving girls like me.
I hope Lino is okay after what happened and pass my hello to Suzette.
Thanks again,
Pim.
I didn’t expect a reply.
To be honest, I wasn’t sure I wanted one. For all my ideas of earning a female friend, now I was back on the Phantom with Elder by my side, I had no cravings for anything else. I was exactly where I wanted to be with the exact person I wanted to be with.
So when she replied a few hours later, I suffered a small case of nerves, especially as Elder read over my shoulder.
From: T Mercer
To: Pimlico
Subject: Re: Thank you
Hi Pim,
Lovely to hear from you.
I’m assuming, since I haven’t heard otherwise from news channels, that you got away safe and are sailing far away by now. It was our pleasure to help, and I hope you’ll stay in touch.
Don’t forget, Q and I sponsor an orphanage and many other child charities here and around the world. I know this is completely overstepping, but I still feel awful about what happened that day when I tried to make you hold Lino.
My heart breaks that you can’t have children—and I know I’m once again overstepping—but I wanted to reiterate that it’s not the end of the dream.