Page 54 of Property of Anchor

“Because now they’ve pissed me off coming after you.”My voice dropped low.“And I don’t lose the people I care about.”

She pressed her forehead to my chest.“I care about you too, you know.”

I wrapped my arms tight around her.“Good.Then we fight this together.”

And we would.

Whoever was fucking with the Kings of Anarchy, and now, with Pearl, was about to learn the hard way what that really meant.

Chapter Twenty

Pearl

The island was quiet in a way it hadn’t been since I got here.

The air smelled like pine needles and leftover fear.The screams from the haunted house were gone, temporarily silenced, and the docks weren’t buzzing with activity.It was just us.Me, the paint crew, the club, and a whole mess of secrets.

“Alright,” Anchor said, his voice slicing through the tension like a hot knife through cold butter.“We’re closing down the island until Saturday.”

Molly blinked.“What?”

Anchor stood with his arms crossed, wearing that don’t-ask-me-any-damn-questions expression.“Haunted house is off-limits to the public until we wrap up some maintenance around the island.”

Beside me, Bernice snorted.“Maintenance, my wrinkled ass.”

Anchor didn’t miss a beat.“Paint whenever the hell you want.Use the time.”

I knew this wasn’t about maintenance.The USB drive.That fear I’d felt last night was still sitting in my chest like a stone.

Anchor took a step toward me.“Pearl.”

I turned to face him.I couldn’t read his expression, but the shadows under his eyes told me he hadn’t slept.Neither had I.

“I need to head out around the island.We’ve got more cameras going in.”

I nodded.“Alright.”

“Lost will be with you.”

That got my hackles up.“Anchor—”

“No.”His voice was low, rough.“I’m not arguing about this.If I’m not with you, Lost is.”

I let out a long sigh.“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I know.But I need peace of mind.Let me have that.”

There wasn’t much else I could say to that.I gave a small nod, and he stepped a little closer.Not close enough to kiss me, but enough that I felt the warmth of him.

“I’ll see you in a bit,” he said, so softly I barely heard it.

Then he was gone.

The second the door to the haunted house creaked shut behind him, all eyes turned to me.

Brian tilted his head, one eyebrow arched.“So...anything you want to share with the class?”

I looked at my dad.His arms were folded across his chest, and I knew that look.It was the same one he used to give me when I came home late in high school.Like he was waiting to hear what kind of shit I’d gotten into.

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