Innocence Burned(5)

I reached the end of the pier and grabbed the railing, stuck my head over the side and took deep breaths while staring down at the water. How long had it been since I was allowed to do something as simple as breathe without worrying about what someone thought or what someone wanted? As my heartbeat returned to a slightly more normal pace, I lifted my head and stared out at the horizon. A ferry was approaching from one of the many islands that dotted the Puget Sound. I’d practically grown up in and around Seattle and not once had I visited any of those islands. My family consisted of roughneck businessmen who cared about little else than power and money and jaded women who did nothing more than bitch about whores and shop. God how they loved to spend money.

They weren’t the kind of people who did normal things like go on vacations to pretty places. I almost laughed out loud at the mental picture of my family on a beach. Except laughing implied happiness and there was nothing but emptiness inside me. My whole life all I had was my strange, albeit dysfunctional, family to hold onto.

Then it was gone and I was being passed off to a man with a scary reputation and an even worse disposition.

Which reminded me that I needed to get out of sight. And if I truly wanted to disappear, maybe a tropical island was exactly where I needed to go. A place where no one knew the family name. How I’d get there I had no idea. The money stuffed into my purse wasn’t chump change but it wouldn’t last long. I needed everything. I looked down at the lace and tulle gripped in my hand. Especially clothes. And the sooner the better. I stuck out like a sore thumb dressed like this.

Hard to believe this is what my life had been reduced to. From princess to runaway in a matter of hours. I’d had the foresight to grab my secret savings, but everything else had been left behind. No cell phone, no passport, no fancy luggage stuffed with the honeymoon clothes I was supposed to wear when my new husband took possession of me. Nothing.

I had the fake ID I’d been using since I was sixteen to sneak into clubs on the rare occasion I got out, but even that was precarious. When my father began to question my friends, that information would get shared. No one held out against Frank Mazzeo when he was on the hunt. Not if they wanted to stay healthy.

In fact, now that I thought of it, using that ID to get a room at the Edgewater hotel or any hotel was a very bad idea. I needed a different plan and I needed it now. If I was going to last more than a day or two on my own I needed to be a hell of a lot smarter.

I turned around and took in my surroundings. Someone could have easily followed me or tracked down the cab company by now. The couple at the end of the pier were so into each other I doubted they noticed anyone. Even a runaway bride.

A family of four stood huddled together off to the side, holding up a cell phone to take a series of selfies, also oblivious to those around them. They’d noticed my arrival, giving me a strange look as I passed them, but quickly moved on to whatever brought them here in the first place. Most likely tourists if I had to guess.

In fact, no one paid any attention to me at all. Some of the tension keeping me strung tight loosened. But still no new plan came to mind. I was still standing on a pier in a wedding gown with nowhere to go.

With increasing desperation driving me to do something, movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. I turned and that’s when I saw him. A stranger sitting alone on a bench with a lit cigarette dangling from his lips.

I moved to avert my eyes when his gaze caught mine and held it. Well, I froze, he didn’t move. I couldn’t look away from eyes so blue they almost glowed. In the darkened grey day on a quiet Seattle pier, those eyes stood out like beacons calling my damn name. The rest of him wasn’t half bad either. Short brown hair cropped close to his head, and enough stubble on his face to indicate more than a few days had passed since he shaved. And he wasn’t so much sitting on the bench as he was sprawled on it with his legs kicked out in front of him. Worn denim hugged long, thick legs, making it impossible not to notice the muscle that lay underneath.

The rest of him looked pretty big too from what I could tell. Despite the black leather jacket covering his torso, I still saw the dark T-shirt underneath conformed to a broad chest and likely tight abs underneath. Heavy combat boots completed the look and made me groan. He might as well have hung a blinking neon sign around his neck that said, ‘Bad boy. Come and get it.’

Getting it would normally be a bad idea. But in this case… That new plan I’d been looking for crystallized in my brain. He was the perfect solution in every way.

A place to hide.

A way to take my mind off my craptastic life.