“Except your brother’s bullet.”
“Lucifer—”
“I knew I recognized him from somewhere,” Scotty says. “He’s Lucifer Ashton. From the Ashtons of LA. Is it true? The rumors?”
“That he’s an underground drug kingpin? Yeah, they’re all true.”
“Emily”—he caresses my cheek—“my God. How did you…”
“He lavished me with gifts. With a life a starving artist could only dream about. I was seduced by the lifestyle, and gradually, I…” I shake my head. How can I admit what happened? What I allowed to happen?
“Damn, Em. Thank God you’re okay.”
“He trapped me. Wouldn’t let me go anywhere without him, until the day I escaped. Buck sent me here. Then…”
“It’s my fault.” Scotty rubs his forehead, messes with his hair. “I should have walked you back this morning. None of this would have happened.”
“Oh, Scotty.” I entwine my fingers through his. “This isn’t your fault at all. It’s my fault. I stopped watching my back. I shouldn’t have, but I did. Carpe diem, as you say.”
“I wouldn’t have said it if I thought it could get you killed.”
“No. Don’t go there,” I say. “Last night with you was the most amazing night of my life. I’ll never regret it.”
He smiles. “Then stay here, Em. On the island. With me. And I promise we’ll have many more nights even better than last night.”
“You mean it? You want me to stay here? I may need some…counseling. To get over what I’ve been through and all.”
“There just happens to be a top-notch retreat center on the other side of the cliff with the best therapists in the world.”
“You want me?” I ask. “Baggage and all?”
Scotty smiles, kisses my lips. “Baby, I want it all. And you’ve made me think about a lot of things.”
“Like what?”
“Like maybe going back to school. I could take online courses and still work here. Maybe become a counselor myself.”
“You did major in psychology. That’s a wonderful idea.” I brush his hair off his forehead and return his smile. “I thought of a name for your cocktail.”
“You mean our cocktail”—he trails a finger over my lower lip—“my love?”
“Yeah. We’ll call it the Island Escape.”
* * *