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this place would be handed over to Arthur’s friend’s son, Jamieson Tynes. All I had to do was train him over the next few weeks and then let him have it.
    It was well after midnight before I locked up my office and headed toward the back exit. The thought of my bed had never seemed so damn good. Today had started before dawn and hadn’t slowed down once.
    “Captain,” Elle called out, and I jerked my gaze over to see her standing just outside the dining room. I’d been doing my best to stay the hell away from her.
    “Yeah,” I replied in a no-nonsense tone. I didn’t want any drama with her. Especially not tonight.
    “Can we talk?”
    “No.”
    “Seriously, this is how you’re going to be? We slept together for weeks. We were in a relationship. You can’t just turn off those emotions like that.”
    I stopped and made myself acknowledge her with an irritated glance. “I have no emotions, Elle. I told you that in the beginning, just like I told you I was just in it for the fucking. Nothing more.”
    “Who are you in love with, then? Huh? Where is she?” Elle raised her voice and took a step toward me. “If she’s so damn wonderful, why isn’t she here fighting for you? Because I’m here. I do love you. She doesn’t, or she would be here.”
    The emotion I didn’t feel for Elle was surpassed by the emotion that always came with any mention of the girl I loved. The one who owned my heart in a way no one else ever would. “She was nothing like you. She was pure and kind. She was selfless, and when she smiled, the world lit up. She was my best friend. My reason for getting up in the morning. That is who the fuck she was. No one will compete with that. Ever.”
    Elle threw up her hands like I was a madman. “Do you hear yourself? You’re talking about her in the past tense. She’s gone. You even know it. Move on! She obviously has.”
    I hated her in that moment. I hated her voice. I hated the way she looked. I hated the air she breathed. I wanted her to shut the fuck up. My body tensed with fury, and I had to fight the urge to bury my fist in the wall. And I couldn’t roar in rage at her to get out of my sight. I couldn’t lose my cool here. Not now.
    All of the disgust and hate I felt toward her was contained in the glare I leveled on her. She would see it, and if she was as smart as I thought she was, she’d never come near me again.
    “She’s dead.”
    Saying those words was never easy. I wanted to throw shit. Anything but admit it out loud.
    I didn’t wait for her response, but the pale color of her face told me she got it. I left her behind and went to my only safe haven: my boat.
    Eleven years ago
    My mother was singing in the kitchen. That was never a good sign. I stopped at the door and put my hand protectively in front of Addy. It was a reflex. As if my mother would hear us and come running like a crazy person and attack her. I knew that wouldn’t happen, but I was also bracing both of us for what this could mean. My mother singing meant she was happy, and that usually meant she thought my dad would be home early for dinner.
    My dad never came home for dinner. He hadn’t in more than four years, ever since he started sleeping with his secretary. Even now that he had a child with this other woman and spent most of his nights with his other family, my mother still pretended that wasn’t the case.
    I spotted the empty bottle of tequila on the coffee table and looked at Addy, who was staring at it, too. This was definitely another bad sign. My mother acting crazy was one thing. My mother crazy drunk was another.
    “Go to your room, and lock the door,” I whispered to her.
    She looked up at me with those big eyes of hers. There was fear there, but there was also determination. She shook her head. “I won’t leave you alone with her. If I lock myself in, you know she’ll come after me, and you’ll fight her, and she’ll hit you.”
    I was taller than my mother now and stronger. Her