Golden Burn (Songs of Crime #1)

38. Etta

38

Etta

‘Gotten’ - Slash ft Adam Levine

“ I think we should go to Delos.”

“The island?”

I show Odin the phone screen and the list of activities I googled for us to do on our last night. I’m lying on the daybeds out near the pool, while Odin does some sort of core workout. It’s the definition of eye candy. “ The island of Delos is a UNESCO world heritage site and one of the most important archaeological finds in the modern century. ” I show him some pictures and the event that’s happening tonight. “ Sit immersed in an ancient amphitheater and behold the wonder of Greek theater in its natural setting. Wow. That sounds amazing.”

Odin hums, continuing to balance in a plank position, his forehead dripping sweat.

“We should go. ”

He starts to do pushups. “You mentioned that.”

“And you didn’t respond.”

He sighs and sits back on his knees, his chest glistening. “It’s our last night. Didn’t you want to spend it here?”

“I do, I really do. It’s just… I thought it would be nice to go on a date. A real date. Before we have to head back to reality.”

“I know what you mean,” he responds, wipes his face with a towel and sits beside me on the daybed. “But there’s a chance it could be—”

“Dangerous,” I interrupt. “You’re right.”

“I don’t want to upset you, Etta,” he says softly and my heart melts. “But your safety, your life, is mine to protect. And I don’t want to fail.”

“I know.” I take his hand and kiss his palm, then sit up in my seat to kiss him on the lips, too. He holds me against him, savoring the connection. He’s warm and salty and mine . As much as a real date would be wonderful, I don’t want to push him. Putting myself, and him, in harm’s way is the last thing I want to do.

“I’m starving. Did you want something?” I mumble against his lips.

“Just you.”

“You just had me,” I chuckle. My vagina is still sore from the pounding he gave me only an hour ago right here on the day beds.

“I will always be hungry for you.”

I kiss him, slow and sweet. “Ditto. But right now, I need chocolate.”

Odin chuckles.

I saunter off, my body so at peace, so deliciously happy that it’s like I’m living an alternate reality.

Inside, I scoff my face with a delicious mint chocolate bar. There are some sweets from last night left over, so I put them on a plate and turn on the coffee machine. Odin sneaks in at some point and grabs my hips, hugging me from behind. A small yelp pops out of my mouth, then it turns into a satisfied hum when his damp, hard chest presses to my spine.

“We can go.”

I turn my cheek. “Really?”

“Cerbera hasn’t contacted us once. My sources tell me he’s heeded my warning and decided to leave us alone, at least for now. I think a public show should be safe enough. There’s going to be too many people, too many eyes for him to bribe.”

“Are you sure?”

“As long as you stay by my side and never leave me. We should be okay.”

He presses his lips to my hot skin, and my stomach explodes into tiny butterflies. “I guess I’m going to have to get ready.”

“Do your makeup like you did on the plane to Africa. I want to watch it run down your face when we fuck later tonight.”

I can’t help biting my lip in delight. “Yes, sir.

The ferry to Delos is choppy. Sitting inside is making the nausea worse, so I vacate my seat in the cabin and head out the doors and onto the deck of the boat.

Odin is behind me instantly, caging my back as I cling to the white painted railing flaking away from rust. “I don’t normally get seasick,” I say as the wind whips my hair across my face so hard it actually stings.

My husband’s hands bracket mine on the railing, his frame a comforting blanket. “Just watch the horizon. We’ll be there soon.” I do as he says and keep my eyes glued on the strip of blue. The sea is a dark, scary color, with waves large enough to make the ferry tilt. I cringe with every spray of water that reaches my cheeks. Although not necessarily peak tourism in Greece, the boat is full of people. I’ve never been claustrophobic before, but I am now. My skin is hot, and my eyes are itchy. When my feet stumble from the sudden swell of the sea, I want to curl into a ball.

Odin does his best to soothe me, stroking my back and kissing my temples. He even rattles off facts about dinosaurs to distract me.

“The Stegosaurus was extinct for sixty-six million years before the Tyrannosaurus Rex walked the earth. It was also the dumbest animal with a brain the size of a walnut. The dinosaur with the longest name is Micropachycephalosaurus, which means ‘tiny thick-headed lizard’. Sometimes dinosaurs swallowed rocks to help them grind up their food. The Triceratops is my favorite because they lived together in herds. I like the idea of having a big family.”

I meant it when I said I don’t normally get seasick. It’s a combination of many things.

Fear. Joy. Doubt. Confusion. Hope.

Odin has been mine for five days. He’s been mine and no one else’s. But the timeline is running out. We have to return to the real world soon. And I have no idea what’s to come.

He’s not spoken about it. Neither have I. We’ve both avoided it by getting lost in each other’s bodies. And it’s been wonderful. So, so wonderful. But after tonight, we are going to be thrust back into the roles we played before our honeymoon. Even thinking about acting like I hate him to cover our relationship sounds draining. I don’t think I can do it.

The ferry reaches the dock of Delos, swinging in so fast I hold my breath as the crew work to secure it to the mooring. Odin takes me by the hand and leads me to the exit. I cling to him.

The island of Delos is famous for the abundance of naturally preserved archaeological sites. Huge towers of marble, half collapsed buildings, complete and incomplete statues, and colored tiled mosaics that don’t look thousands of years old. It distracts me for a long time as we read through the brochures provided and walk idly through the ruins of an ancient, abundant city.

Odin takes everything in. Pausing at every sign to read the inscription. I can feel the awe rolling off him, the excitement to learn. I stride over to a section of the ruins that’s full of animal life. Cats skitter, running away from me. It rattles my composure. I know he said it would be safe, and there are so many people here that any sort of altercation would be noticed, but I can’t shake this sense of doom.

Maybe it’s the environment. The beautiful marble, cut and broken, left to bleach in the sun is a depressing image. Scorched, abandoned, forgotten by the rest of the world for hundreds of years. I pull my jacket tighter against my upper body as the chilly wind continues to sweep through the island. I abandoned my hair as soon as I stepped onto the ferry. No point trying to save it.

“Cerbera will kill you, he told me so himself.”

I jolt. Agent Martin’s warning to Odin at the wedding interrupts my thoughts like a specter hiding behind the marble, adding fuel to my worry.

“Not if I kill him first.”

As we make our way toward the amphitheater, the crowds gathering, the light display coming alive as day gives way to night, my nervousness only worsens. I’m as fragile as my surroundings. Soft around the edges and prone to erosion. I’m weak and terrified, and I can’t deal with the idea of something happening to Odin.

I’ve never been fuller than I do with him. He sees me more than anyone else has. Like his gaze is a telescope trained directly on my soul.

And I think I’ve had the same effect on him. I’ve brought him out and shown him the little things in life that hold more beauty than a dollar bill and fake smile. I’ve opened up a doorway he closed and locked the night he watched Gen die. I hope I’ve helped along the journey of healing.

“You okay?” Odin asks me as we near the entrance to the amphitheater.

“I’m fine,” I reply. I don’t want him to think I’m scared. He would turn us around instantly and take us home. I do my best to shrug it off, to send my worries into the rough wind.

We reach the front and an employee scans the tickets on Odin’s phone. “Enjoy the show,” she says and lets us through.

It’s almost completely dark by the time we take our seats on the marble, made more comfortable by the use of little circular cushions. Odin and I lean against each other, our hands intertwined like the roots of two trees. He kisses me on the temple and the delicate touch sends my heart racing.

Maybe I should tell him how I’m feeling. Maybe that’s why I’m having this gut reaction.

It’s a good time, isn’t it? We’d grown so close, gotten comfortable letting our walls down, inviting the other person in to stay. I think what I feel toward him is right.

I love him. I do.

My entire being yearns for him, for a future with him.

Is this why I’m freaking out? Because I’ve come to terms with it or because he doesn’t know?

“Odin?” He turns to me, his face aglow with the yellow lights from the stage. My body aches for him. I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry.

Tell him. Tell him. Just say it .

“I think I—”

The show begins, cutting me off. Odin raises his brow, but I wave my hand. I’m being silly. I can tell him when we get home. Now’s not the right time.

I’ve not seen many theater shows. My mom took me to see Wicked when I was a child, which I loved. And despite intending to see something again as we got older, all of my study, running the clinic and the tiny scrap of time for a social life meant we didn’t go.

The show is brilliant.

It’s a tragedy, imbued with snippets of slapstick comedy that actually make me laugh out loud. The actors are incredible, their voices astounding. I am in awe of the fact that they don’t use microphones and yet fill the entire space. There’s a traditional chorus, and even a moment right toward the end of the show where they ask for volunteers from the audience. I lift up Odin’s hand, but he brings it right back down, his grip tightening on my palm. “Not a chance,” he growls in my ear. I laugh.

The show ends. The audience’s claps.

We leave hand in hand.

There’s a sliver of me that’s regretful I wasted the majority of our date fretting over nothing. But when we’re waiting to board the ferry to head back to the mainland, Odin’s arms wrapped tightly around my waist, a sense of gratitude fills me, washing away the doubt.

Tonight was perfect. We are perfect.

If the world wants to come for him, they can come for me, too.

I am his protector as much as he is mine.

The ferry fills quickly, everyone eager to get back since the weather has dropped, and the darkness makes crossing a little uncomfortable.

Odin and I find a spot on the deck just in case I get sick again. The ferry takes off, the waves beating against the side, spraying our faces. Odin cuddles up against me, his whole body keeping me warm and cozy. “What were you going to say right before the show started?”

“Oh. Uh. I was going to say…” The words get tangled in my mouth, nervousness holding them back. He kisses me again and I let them fall into the open. “I’m obsessed with you. Actually, I’m in love with you.”

Odin stills. “Harriet,” he breathes. He turns me in his arms, holds me against him despite the water trying to rock us apart. “You really mean it?”

My eyes fill with happy tears. “Yes.”

He smiles. Dimples and all, then kisses me fiercely. I wrap my arms around him and return the kiss, my heightened emotions spilling into his mouth, filling him up. Odin moans as our tongues collide, tangling together. He crushes my body against his, bending me backward, away from the stares of onlookers as he kisses me like the entire time he’s been holding back.

Unfortunately, we’re both pulled from the moment by an unnatural sound.

A loud crack—like metal splitting under blunt force—rocks the ferry. Odin pulls us upright, immediately shoving himself in front of me from the direction the noise came from.

Those previously seated are standing, confused expressions written plainly across their faces.

We wait for several long minutes, the ferry continuing its route.

I grip on to Odin. “What was that?”

“The engine clearly needs maintenance,” he says. I think he’s trying to be funny, but my capacity for humor has evaporated. We wait with bated breath, hoping for some sort of explanation. Nothing. The crew is busy somewhere else.

The sound happens again. But this time, the ferry jolts under our feet.

People scream.

The ferry seems to tilt to one side.

“Odin!” I shout, gripping on to his jacket, my feet slipping. We slide into the metal bars. Odin tries to take most of the force but a sharp pain ricochets up my side on impact, making me hiss. Odin’s hands are all over me, checking for severe damage, but I can’t even tell him I’m fine. My stomach flips upside down when I see smoke coming from somewhere up front near the engine. “Looks like you were right,” I mutter.

A crew member starts ordering passengers in a stern clear voice, first in Greek, then quickly in English. “Life jackets on now! Life jackets on now! We are abandoning ship. Please head to the side of the ferry where you will board the safety rafts. Please remain calm.”

In an instant, the people aboard move like a swarm of ants. Flat out ignoring the crew’s advice to remain calm, everyone races for life jackets, virtually climbing over the top of one another.

The ferry isn’t sinking, that much I can tell. But it is smoking, dipping slightly at the front. I shove away the primal urge to join the frenzied crowd and focus on what we have to do.

Life jackets. Side of the ferry. Wait to board a rescue boat.

Odin grips my hand so tight my bones grind together. He leads me toward the back, near where a crew member is lowering the safety boat, a small crowd forming, eager to get on.

I have every intention of following him when something catches in my periphery.

Back inside the cabin, there’s three scared children hovering around their mother. She holds the ends of her jacket to her forehead, blood dripping down her temples. She’s trying desperately to get the kids into their life vests, but it looks like she might faint.

I launch across the space, the boat rocking beneath me. Odin grabs my arm. “They need help!” I shout, twisting out of his grip.

“Put this on,” he passes me my own life vest. “You first. Then them.”

I shove my arms in so quickly, clip it in even faster. Odin reaches the children first, taking the vests and calmly telling them how to put it on. I help the mother do the same. “Keep pressure on the wound,” I instruct her.

“Thank you,” she nods. Once all the children are in their vests, Odin picks up the smallest two, while I take the other and the mother’s elbow.

We race out of the cabin and to the side of the ferry where the rescue boats are filling with people. A skipper sees the children and ushers us on quickly. I step off the ferry and into the rocking boat, my heart lurching. The water is so dark it looks like a void to another dimension.

I turn, seeking Odin’s presence, but he’s not behind me.

One of the staff members shouts at Odin in Greek, placing his arm across Odin’s chest, keeping him back. He repeats himself, but doesn’t translate. It’s obvious he wants Odin to go to another boat because this one is already full. My husband looks like he wants to throw the skipper into the ocean for blocking his path to me.

I step up onto the side of the rescue boat, ready to jump back into the broken ferry. Odin shakes his head, lifting his hand to stop me. “No. Go with the mother. She needs your help. I’ll be right behind you.”

I can see the torment in his eye, the excruciating worry. We swore we would never separate and now we have no choice.

“I’ll be okay,” I say, hoping I sound confident. Then my body lurches backward as the boat takes off, my feet slipping until I collapse into a sitting position beside the children who are crying softly.

“Are we gonna die?” the smallest girl asks me.

I rub her arms. “No, honey, we are safe now. ”

We take off, turning away from the ferry. From our position, the smoke appears much worse. A great cloud of black rising into the night.

We hit a wave, the boat smacking into the water and spraying some of the people on board. The girl next to me whispers with fright.

“Hold on folks,” the driver says.

A shiver spills down my arms.

That voice …

I know that voice, but it feels out of place amongst the chaos of this disaster. My gaze flicks toward him, the adrenaline in my system morphing into spiked balls of ice.

I freeze.

My heart stops its frantic cadence.

I fight to hold down a scream.

That man driving the boat is a familiar face. The scar on his neck is a dead giveaway.

Cerbera notices my horrified gaze and winks. “It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”