God, I wish I had a friend to talk to.
My mind immediately goes to the phone. I want to text him so bad.
I get up and go back to my room to change. The phone is still there. Right where I left it. I pick it up and find the message.
I’m sorry.
I can’t stop myself. I text back. Why? Just tell me why you’re doing these things. I press the send button and watch the little green bar as it tries to send my message. It fails and then the message string disappears. Dammit. I key in James’ number and rewrite the text, pushing send again. I repeat this process and press send several more times before I understand that we’re out to sea and my phone won’t work.
“Score one for Dad,” I mumble, throwing the phone down on the bed.
But I’m not going to sit in my cabin and mope, that’s for sure. So I put on a pair of clean shorts and a tank top, then slip on my flipflops and go back above deck. When I get to the party area, I plop down on one of the couches and tuck my feet up underneath me.
“Jesus Christ, Harper, what the fuck is happening?”
“I had no idea your mouth was so filthy. Your father never mentioned that.”
I stand up so I can see over the dining table. The direction the unfamiliar voice came from. “Excuse me?” I don’t see anything beyond but the empty deck and the black sky.
“Sorry,” a man says, standing up from the hot tub on the outer deck. The thick muscles of his chest drip water as he steps out, and then he smiles at me, just as he grabs one of the large white towels with the ship’s name monogrammed on them. He drags it across his face and chest and then tosses it aside.
I have lost my mind. My heart shudders and then stops. I have to sit down quickly because I know without a doubt I am going to faint.
Strong hands catch me just before I fall and lay me down across the couch cushions. “Sorry. I didn’t expect to see you up here so soon after dinner. This wasn’t the way I wanted us to meet.”
I sit up because I feel like I’m suffocating. His touch sends chills up my spine and I put a hand up to push him away.
I meet his eyes briefly and my head spins.
“James?” I know it’s not him, but I can’t stop myself from asking. “James? Is that you?”
The man who looks like James, but who I know is not James, shakes his head. “No, sweetheart. I’m Vincent.” He smiles at me and there’s a twinkle in his green eyes that makes me hold my breath again. “The control.”
Chapter Thirteen
Harper
“I don’t understand.” I’m breathing all heavy and wrong and he’s still touching my arm. I shake off his hand and pull away. “I don’t understand.”
The man who looks like James sighs. “OK. Let me start from the beginning. In a science experiment you have three variables. You have the product, the reactant, and the control.”
“What?”
“I was told you were quick.”
I squint at him. What the fuck is he talking about?“OK, a product is—”
“I know what a fucking control is. What I don’t know,” I seethe, “is why the fuck you look like James.”
He reaches over and I recoil and scoot back until I’m pressed up against the couch cushions. His fingertips touch my cheek and then drag down until his hand flips over and his knuckles slide under my chin. He gently tips it upward. “Calm down for me, please. And I’ll explain.”
“This is me being calm,” I say back, still angry.
He smiles and drops his hand. “James is my brother.”
“He never said he had a twin.”
“He doesn’t know he has a twin.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Harper, work with me here, darling. OK?” He pauses like I’m supposed to take that opportunity to agree with him. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight. Your father said—”
My father knew about this.
“—you’d go to your room after dinner. So I took this opportunity to relax. I live in a stressful world, as you do, I’m sure. And I wasn’t thrilled that I had to be the one to have this conversation with you. I didn’t feel it was my place. Your father should’ve cleared all this up last year—”
Oh my God. What is he saying?
“—but since you’ve seen me now, I guess I’ll just have to do my best.”
I stand up, shaking my head. “No.”
“Sit down, Harper.”
“No,” I say again, stepping away from the couch. He stays where he is so I walk all the way to the edge of the living room. “I know what you’re going to say and I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true, Harper. I’m your promise, not James.”
“No. I belong to him. He said so.”
“James is delusional. Besides, I don’t see you as property, so I’m very unhappy that he made you believe you were one of his belongings.”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Vincent. Fenici.” He says it very slowly, like I’m incapable of understanding what’s going on.
I do understand. I just don’t want to believe it.
“James and I are twins. When we turned sixteen, we were brought to an island to meet you. Not together, of course. We lived separate lives since shortly after our second birthday.”
“I didn’t see you there.”