Chapter Ten

Liam

I stare a Charlotte uncomprehendingly. “How did you get my necklace? And why were you wearing it?”

She averts her gaze and fiddles with the strap of her dress. Something’s up. I narrow my eyes at her. “Sit.” It comes out sharper than I intended—I’m too used to commanding men—but she promptly plops her adorable little ass down on the sofa cushion, and I have to remind myself to focus. I love the way Charlotte responds to my commands. Maybe because most of the time she’s so hellbent and determined to do things her way. I sit next to her, turning so we’re face-to-face. “Okay, spill it.”

She takes a deep breath and begins. “You died saving the life of an aid worker in Pakistan. Well, you didn’t die obviously, but you know, that’s what you were doing when—”

“Yeah, yeah,” I interrupt her. “I read that in the news. I need to know about the necklace.”

“Right. So a few weeks after you died, or not died—”

“Charlotte…” I give her my most intimidating stare and she flushes.

“Right.” Charlotte gives me that slightly flustered but aroused look she had last night when I demanded her sweet submission. My cock apparently remembers it too. Focus! I remind myself. “A few weeks after you, um, didn’t die, the aid worker whose life you saved contacted McKenzie and said that right before the building exploded, you gave him something to give to her. She and Gemma flew out to San Francisco a few days later and met him and he gave her the necklace. He told her you wanted her to have it so she’d know what kind of man you were.”

“Did you go with them to San Francisco to meet him?”

“No. Someone needed to stay in Charleston to run the business.” One corner of her mouth tips up slightly, but her eyes are sad. “That’s usually me.”

I take her hand in mine and turn it over, rubbing her palm with my thumb. “What did the necklace have to do with McKenzie knowing what kind of man I was?”

She shrugs. “It has some sort of etching on the front that he said stood for bravery, so I guess you wanted her to know you died a hero.”

I stroke Charlotte’s fingers absentmindedly. That doesn’t sound right. I don’t need anyone to think I’m a hero, but the last person I’d need to convince is my little sister. She’s always been my biggest fan.

“How did you come to have it?”

This time she squirms a little. What is she not telling me? “Um…I was at McKenzie’s right before I got kidnapped. Remember, Walker wanted me to see if I could find your passport? I, uh…decided to take the necklace, too, in case Walker needed it. I just put it on so it wouldn’t get lost.”

“So you were leaving McKenzie’s apartment wearing the necklace when the men kidnapped you?”

She nods.

I whistle softly. “Now I see why they thought you were McKenzie.”

She nods. “They were planning to keep me there until El Gato returned. I don’t know if they thought I, or she, knew where the guns are and would lead them to them, or whether they were going to use me as a bargaining chip, or kill me.”

“So they kept you, thinking you were McKenzie, and took the necklace.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh no! I still have it. I was still wearing it when I woke up. But I didn’t want them to notice it, so I took it off and put it in my pocket.” She jumps up. “I’ll get it.”

“Hey, Charlotte,” I call to her as she disappears into the bedroom. “You are a total badass.”

“I know.” She’s smiling when she returns a moment later with a silver medallion about the size of a quarter on a silver chain.

“I’m starting to appreciate your tendency to overthink things.” I wink at her.

“Is that an apology?” she asks, her grin widening.

I lean forward and take her mouth, kissing her hard. “What do you think?” I ask when I finally pull back to look into her beautiful brown eyes that are now soft with arousal.

“Um…” Suddenly flustered again, she hands me the necklace.

I let it rest in my palm, examining it. “Was I wearing it when we went to Playa on vacation?”

“No. I’d never seen it before McKenzie brought it back from San Francisco.”

That means I got it during that window of time I don’t remember when everything seemed to go down. I rub my thumb across the three numbers carved on the back, wondering if they have any significance. I turn it over. Stunned, I stare at the design etched on the front. What the serious fuck is going on?

“What?” she says. “Do you remember something?”

“No. But this is the same design my college buddy Anthony has tattooed on his arm.”

She stares at me, equally dumbfounded. “Does it have some special significance?”

“He’s gay. I helped him design it when he decided to come out. It means…” I pause for a minute. “That’s it!” I jump up and kiss her hard on the lips. She’s looking at me like I lost my mind. Which, incidentally, I have. But maybe, just maybe, it’s coming back. I just need it to come back a little faster. “It stands for valor.”

“Which is another word for bravery,” she adds slowly. “But why would you have a necklace with your friend’s tattoo on it? Oh! Maybe you gave him the guns.”

I shake my head. I wouldn’t have implicated Anthony in any sort of illegal activity. The guy’s had enough trouble in his life. It’s not easy being the gay son of a Southern Baptist minister. “No. But I remember dreaming about a necklace when I was in the hospital in India. There were a few days when I was coming out of the coma that I didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t, but I’m sure I dreamed of it, I just couldn’t see the emblem. Anthony was in my dreams too.” I’m not about to tell her she starred in the majority of them. Although I’m starting to wonder…if my dreams of the emblem and Anthony were real…

“What do you think it means?” she asks excitedly, interrupting my thoughts.

“Let’s look at the bucket list.”

She hops up and disappears into the bedroom again, coming back with the folded and creased piece of paper. She carefully unfolds it and lays it on the table, and we lean over it.

“Hang on a second.” I point to the item that says Visit the Dominion BDSM club in San Francisco. “Anthony lives in San Francisco. That sounds familiar.”

“You’ve probably been there before, seeing as how you’re so into kinky sex,” she retorts.

“Don’t knock it until you try it,” I tease.

She “hmphs,” but not before I see the flash of arousal in her eyes. Quickly averting her gaze, she says, “Let’s see if we can find some pictures. Maybe that will spark your memory.”

“Good idea.” It takes us the better part of half an hour to find anything on The Dominion—it appears to be extremely exclusive and private—but Charlotte’s research skills rival mine, and we finally find a few pictures. Unfortunately, I don’t recognize the place at all.

“Tell me more about Anthony,” she suggests.

“He was one of my best friends in college, one of the few who stuck by me after my parents died. The only person I trust more is Walker. We played football together at USC. As I said, he was gay, and it was a secret he kept for years. I used to always say if I ever had a secret, I knew I could trust him to keep it. We meet up whenever we can to dive.”

“Liam, look.” I follow her finger to Dive in Malaysia on the bucket list. “Do you remember diving here?”

“No. But I’ve looked at my passport. Malaysia’s the one place I’ve been in the last six months that I can’t explain.”

“This has to mean something! You have to call him.”

She’s right. We’re running out of time. I’d rather not involve anyone else, but as a self-employed attorney with a shitload of secrets he already keeps, I doubt I’ll put Anthony in any jeopardy. Unlike Walker. And I trust Anthony. If I tell him not to let anyone know I’m alive, he’ll take that information to the grave. “Yeah. I suppose I do.”

I purchased a burner phone on my way to Manzanillo, and I use it now. After I talk to Anthony, I’ll toss it in the Pacific and get a new one. Charlotte sits on the edge of her seat as I make the call, practically bursting with excitement.

He doesn’t answer. I hate to freak him out and leave a voicemail, but I don’t have time to pussyfoot around. I leave a brief message telling him I’m alive, not to tell anyone, and to call me as soon as he can.

“He didn’t answer,” I say unnecessarily as I put down the phone. “He’ll call when he can. But we don’t have time to wait.” I glance back down at the bucket list. “You want a plan, sweetheart? I’ve got one. We’re flying to Malaysia tomorrow.”

“But I—”

“Don’t have a passport?” I arch an eyebrow at her. “I got you one in Mumbai. It’s illegal as hell, like mine, but we should be able to travel undetected. We’ll retrace my steps when I was there with Anthony. If I was there with Anthony. But I’m sure I was. I’ve never dived with anyone else. It’s on the bucket list, my passport proves I was there, and the necklace I gave Kenzie matches his tattoo. There’s got to be some connection, some clue there. Maybe even the guns themselves. We’ll head there and wait for Anthony to call. In the meantime, maybe something will spark my memory. With any luck, I’ll have guns before I meet with El Gato.”

“And if you don’t?”

“I’ll worry about it then. In the meantime, I want to do every damn thing I can that’s left on my bucket list that I don’t remember putting on it. Anything might be a clue.” I move my finger down the list, stopping at each unmarked item. “Let’s start with salsa dancing. We can do that tonight. I saw a sign about it in the hotel lobby. When I talk to Tony, I’ll ask him about the Dominion, maybe get him to check it out for me, so we can skip that. Tomorrow we’ll fly to Malaysia and check off diving and getting a tattoo.”

Charlotte looks at me incredulously. “You’re going to get a tattoo, just like that?”

“Sure.” I wink at her. “Never underestimate the power of fuck it. I have a couple of days to think about what I want.” I look back at the list. “Tweet from the equator…we can manage that while we’re in Malaysia. Sail the Philippines…probably won’t have time for that.” I look at her and wink. “Want to join the mile-high club?”

Her grin is contagious. “Sounds interesting.”

“Let’s see… Get a dog? Another one that doesn’t make sense. I travel too much to have a dog.”

“I’ve always wanted a dog,” she says wistfully, looking over my shoulder at the list.

“I can totally see that. One of those frou frou rat-looking things that you carry around in your purse?” I tease.

“No!” she retorts. “A big goofy lab from a shelter. Maybe one whose owner died or didn’t want him anymore. One that’s big enough to hug when I’m feeling sad.”

I have a sudden image of a forgotten little girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders, whose life might have been a tiny bit better if she’d had a dog to confide in. But before I can say anything, she quickly changes the subject.

“What about this one?”

Charlotte’s perfectly manicured finger is pointing to “kinky sex,” and although her tone is nonchalant, I can feel the vibrations of arousal coming from her body that I can somehow read like my own.

I arch an eyebrow at her. “You want to?”

She flushes. “Just to make sure we cover all the bases and don’t miss anything.” She’s trying to act casual, but I don’t buy it for a minute. And there’s nothing I want more than to see her unravel as she gives her all to me.

“Oh sweetheart, we’ll definitely cover all the bases. And I’ll make damn sure you don’t miss a thing. But first things first. Go put on your dancing shoes.”