Page 61 of Sail Away
To Whom It May Concern:
I’ve never understood that greeting. What does it mean? Does it mean people might not be concerned? Well, in my case, that is absolutely true. I’m not worth being concerned about.
What the fuck? Of course, he was worth it, and he knew it. Why would he even write a note suggesting that he wasn’t? And why the fuck would he put it on this server?
Reid wouldn’t.
She sat up straight, hitting her head on the top bunk. “Fuck.”
“Are you okay?” Milia asked.
“Just ducky,” she said, flicking her finger over the trackpad. This didn’t make sense.
My life has been one bad turn after the next, and I’ve grown tired of it. It’s time to put an end to it. I can’t live like this any longer.
Darcie blinked. She knew that Reid could be weird and moody and emotional, but this didn’t sound like him at all.
I’ve turned my company into the one thing Erin would be most disappointed in. I don’t know how it happened. Or when it turned. Yes, I do. It was the first time I tried cocaine. That’s when everything changed.
What the hell?
Darcie introduced me to the devil. We danced together, and for a while. it was good. Until it wasn’t.
Like most things with Darcie.
Jesus.
Erin once told me that you come into this world in a blaze of glory. A mad adrenaline rush, and some of us are wired to cling to that emotion for the rest of our lives, unable to be satisfied with that one wild journey into the simplicity of living because our hearts are never settled. These tortured souls are restless and can never tame the beast. Enough is never enough. In the land of the living, life should be the end game.
But in my world, it’s that split second between life and death where you know you’re a goner and yet you straddle the space between. That’s the moment no one can live to tell about, and that’s the moment all true extremists live for.
I’ve accepted the fact that I’m like Erin, a true extremist, and I can’t deny the need to experience the one second between life and death.
See you on the flip side.
“No. No. No fucking way.” Darcie jumped from her bed. “This can’t be happening.”
“What? What’s wrong?” Milia asked.
“Everything.”
* * *
With a shaky hand, Reid opened the last file that Preston had given him and stared at what he knew to be doctored images of Darcie with a line of cocaine. He flipped to another picture of him and Darcie, taken a year or so ago, showing them drinking with what appeared to be a white powdery substance on the table.
Photoshopped in, of course.
But the worst was seeing all the drugs stashed in her cabin and on her sailboat.
There were even pictures of her and Jim with suitcases full of drugs as they transported them onto the superyacht, which explained how Captain Jim had become involved.
The only question was, had Jim done so willingly, or was Preston using him as well?
“Fuck.” Reid tossed the folders across the room. They hit the porthole and scattered to the floor. He was fucking screwed.
And if he didn’t do what Preston wanted, Darcie would lose everything.
He couldn’t allow that to happen. She had her entire life ahead of her, and he had one foot on the downslope. He slumped to the side of the bed and cradled his face in his hands. He’d made a mess of his life all because he’d had a fear of abandonment.
