Page 21 of Delirium

“In my head, mostly. Once you’ve been here for long enough, it’s easy to know what to stay away from.”

“What a wonderful way to sell your business,” James drawled. “Stay away from all these things that could injure and or kill you. This trip is dangerous. This boat is dangerous. The rainforest is dangerous. But pay me money and come on my boat anyway. And don’t dare think we’ll stay to a timeline or course, because we’re on rainforest time out here.”

The knife Nash had been serving with fell with a solid thunk, embedding itself in the worn wood of the table. “Is this really necessary now, James? In front of everyone?”

I froze, my hand midway to my mouth with another bite of food. Sneaking a glance at Camp, he was frozen in nearly the exact same position.

James shoved himself back from the table, away from the knife and Nash both. “I just think it’s important your guests know the truth about what they boarded, and who their captain really is.”

His blue eyes had never looked so icy, staring at Nash with an almost palpable fury.

Nash, to his power, glared back. “Don’t. Don’t do this now.”

James tore his eyes away from Nash and instead turned his penetrating gaze onto me. “Don’t you want to know the truth of theCarpe Diem?”

Blood raced to my head, making me dizzy.Did I?

Wasn’t that my whole purpose of being on the boat? Figuring out the complexities of human nature, and our desperate desire for connection. An escape from everything Ihadto do, filling my time instead with what Iwantedto do.

But when I thought back to the easy connection Camp and I had with little knowledge of each other, I wondered if the truth was all it was cracked up to be.

Chapter

Eight

NASH

Of course James would bring this up now. Why wouldn’t he? He’d spent the last decade of my life trying to make me miserable, and I’d successfully avoided him to this point, but now he was here, at my goddamn dining table of all places, acting like the smug son of a bitch he was.

It’d been a long time since I wanted to punch someone. But I really wanted to punch James right now. Just once. Sober, this time.

But Camp and Scarlett didn’t need to be collateral damage just for existing, and I wasn’t that man anymore.

I wasn’t. Hadn’t been for a long time.

The knife sticking out of the table might have said otherwise, but it was the truth. And it was why I was here in the first place.

James continued to stare at me with the same cold glare I’d always hated, the one that told me exactly how disconnected he was from his feelings.

He’d always been a cold bastard. Obviously, taking over for his father hadn’t softened him up at all.

“Don’t,” I repeated, softer this time, hoping that somewhere in James’ heart of ice, he still remembered us as boys.

Friends, once. I wasn’t sure he even knew what a friend was anymore. Maybe he hadn’t for years.

James raised one blond eyebrow in my direction, then focused back on Scarlett. “The truth of theCarpe Diemis quite simple actually.”

Scarlett’s normally smooth skin was furrowed, a crease growing deeper between her brows. Camp, for what it was worth, remained silent, attention flicking back and forth between myself and James. I’m sure he was grateful the attention wasn’t on him for once.

I knew what James was playing at. He forgot I knew his games all too well for him to get away with this one. He didn’t actually care about everyone knowing about my past, but he knew I did.

He wouldn’t tell them now, because where would the fun be in that?

I just needed to call his bluff first.

Pulling my knife back out of the table, I straightened my shoulders, and left the plate of chicken in front of James. “You know what? You tell them whatever you want. No sweat off my back. But excuse me for not wanting to stick around while you do so.”

With one quick look back at Scarlett, just to make sure she wasn’t offended by my actions, I stormed out of the room and stomped up to the wheelhouse.

---