Accessory: The Scarab Beetle Series: #4 (The Academy) (41 page)

He pressed his lips together, the storm rolling around in his eyes. He didn’t like my answer.

“All I know is,” I said, continuing since he hadn’t started to talk. “I need to stop this fight now or you all will go down, and me, too. We’ve got five days on this boat to behave and I’ve got that much time to help you to convince the Academy that we should stay beyond that, if necessary, to help Ethan. I think us being able to get along and get the job done is going to be crucial, and I can’t have you all fighting with each other. I also don’t have the time to juggle to get to know you all properly to make that decision. Not in the right way. So you all need to understand that I can’t commit.”

“So you’re not interested?”

“I
am
interested,” I said, seething through my teeth. I pushed him, and he stepped back, his back against the wall of the stall. I leaned in, my lips close to his mouth. It was an intimidating thing, doing what he had done before. “But what I said before is true, too. I split my time with all of you, and I don’t seem to get a chance to get to know you. Plus, I need time. I’m not ready for a commitment when my life isn’t stable at all.”

“None of us are stable,” he said in a rush, but then breathed heavily as he stared at my eyes, the wild storm bubbling over. “What do you want, Kayli? That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

I watched his lips as he spoke. I didn’t know. We didn’t have time to hash it out. I also didn’t want him to think I didn’t care at all. I did. That was the problem. I cared too much about all of them, but I couldn’t let them presume there was any commitment when I didn’t know what I wanted yet. That wasn’t fair.

So I kissed him.

It was a short kiss, harsh.

He lifted his hand, cupping the back of my head in his palm. When the kiss ended, he tried to hold onto me, to pull me against his lips again.

I resisted and pulled back. “We need to go,” I said. “This is what I mean when I said we don’t get enough time.”

“I have to agree with you on that,” he said. “I don’t really have a solution.”

“I don’t either,” I said. “Which is why I need all of you to back off on the commitment stuff. There’s lots of reasons not to start a relationship at this point. If that means...if it means you lose interest in me altogether, then that’s the risk I have to take. I’m just not ready.”

The corner of his mouth lifted and suddenly the storm broke. “Good enough.”

I lifted a brow. “What is?”

“That you consider my losing interest a risk.” He reached down for my hand and squeezed it. “I can’t treat you like a typical girl I’d date, because you’re not typical at all. And this thing we have, I can’t explain it.”

I stared at him, full of questions. Was this really okay? No normal guy would ever be this good to me. A normal guy would be angry and quit, or tell me to commit or else he’d leave. Axel seemed to understand, at least as best as anyone could in the short time he’s had to consider what was really going on.

I studied him in the blue tie, the clothes that weren’t right for him. A couple of stray locks of his dark hair framed his face, the rest pulled back in a small ponytail. He was incredibly smart and talented, and too good for someone like me.

As we looked at each other, there was a noise out in the bathroom. Someone else had entered. It was hard for me to determine where they had gone: to a stall or a urinal.

Axel pushed me out of our stall the moment a flow of pee started. A man was at a urinal, focused on the task in front of him. I moved quickly to the door. Axel followed.

Once we were out in the hallway, Axel took my hand and we hurried to the dining room. I hoped he really did understand. Our lives were chaos, more now than ever. Relationships required time to build and we were so focused on other people that we’d never really given ourselves a deep enough look.

If Axel could understand it, then maybe the others would, too.

MYSTERY DINNER

T
he seating in the main dining room had already begun. Axel and I stood in a short line near the entryway. Other guests filed in behind us, chatting among themselves, complaining about having to wait. I listened, but they didn’t talk about anything else of interest and a glance over my shoulder told me none of them were from Nightingale.

I couldn’t see past the shoulders of guests in front of us into the dining room itself. The dress I wore seemed to blend in with what everyone else was wearing, at least. It was still awkward. Cruises weren’t for me. It seemed silly to get dressed up like this just to get something to eat. It was just food. It doesn’t care what you’re wearing.

The line moved slowly. Once we got to the front, we gave our names to a man in a tuxedo standing at a podium near the large doors. He checked his seating chart. “You’re sitting separately tonight, but you’re with some excellent company.” With that, he addressed a lady attendant, showed her the spot on his chart, and waved her and us away, ready for the next people in line.

It seemed Mr. Smith and Colt had won their bids to sit next to me.

“Right this way,” the woman said.

I held onto Axel for as long as I could, wishing now that we didn’t have to sit separately. I’d used up a lot of courage facing off with the boys. I sought strength in his hand as I squeezed it.

He squeezed back. He leaned in as we followed the hostess. “I won’t be far. Walk away if you get uncomfortable, no matter what’s going on.”

We waded through the busy dining room of filled tables and people getting ready to sit down. The blue and white carpet on the floor muffled heels and shifting chairs. Classical music was pipped in from speakers overhead. The volume was barely audible among the talking and chair adjusting noises. There was a podium set up on a short stage at the far end of the room. A banner hung from it, with a large letter L.

I leaned into Axel as we walked. “What’s the podium for?”

“It’s a company gathering,” he said. “So there’s probably going to be a speech of some sort.”

“From Ethan?”

He shrugged.

We were escorted to a table. I smiled politely, meeting eyeballs without actually seeing anyone. I was in a daze with all the lights, the noise, and the many faces around me. I hadn’t really understood how many people were on this ship until just now, when hundreds of them gathered now for dinner. Was this even all of them?

All the tables were round, but each seat had some good elbow room. We weren’t going to get crowded in. When the hostess showed me to my assigned seat, I finally locked in on Mr. Smith, turned to talk to someone at a table behind ours. He was in a brown sports coat, worn over a blue Hawaiian shirt. It looked weird, having a jacket over his shirt, but he was obviously too cool to care.

Colt Baker was there, too, and he stood quickly, sliding my seat out before Axel or the hostess could get to it. “Miss Kitty,” Colt said, smiling in a very easygoing way. “What an amazing transformation. I almost didn’t recognize you without a coffee stain.”

Colt was wearing dark slacks and a very light grey button up shirt with blue stripes under a blue tie. There was a dark jacket, too. The nerd in him stood out with the glasses and the way he brushed his hair, over to one side and very close to the scalp. It was different from earlier. Was this his version of dressing up for dinner? Or was he trying to impress me?

“I’m surprised to see you,” I said, and sat in the chair he held out for me, letting him slide it under. I never could get the hang of that maneuver and had to readjust a little to get closer to the table. “I thought you were leaving.”

“It seems someone convinced me I should stay,” he said, giving me a once over before locking his eyes on mine, making me self-conscious in the dress. Was it see-through? Because of the cut of it, I hadn’t worn a bra. I checked quickly and then looked up and he was still staring. He continued, “Or course, I must oblige.”

I glanced quickly at Axel, who had left my side to take his own seat, just on the other side of Colt. I was at a loss for something to say. I looked again at Colt and smiled. “I had no idea I could be so influential.”

Colt sat down, and in doing so, blocked off my view of Axel. Did he know Axel was supposed to be my boyfriend? I wasn’t sure if I should let him know, or if it would be to my advantage to flirt and not mention it. I wasn’t sure if I could with Mr. Smith around, since he’d notice right away and might say something.

“And how was the spa?” Colt asked.

“Fine,” I said, looking around the table. Blake’s chair next to Mr. Smith’s was still empty. Tara Wayward was across from me, too far to make casual conversation without yelling. She sat next to another man, the one I recognized as also being from Nightingale.

I tried to remember his name: Mr. Jones, I thought, although I couldn’t recall a first name. He was maybe in his forties, broad-chested with a protruding stomach. Ms. Wayward and he were talking, although Tara seemed disinterested, like she was only being polite. Mr. Jones was doing most of the talking, to which she gave short answers and nodded. Her eyes were on other people around us, sharp and inquisitive.

I refocused on Colt and gave him a smile. “It was a surprise from Mr. Murdock. I didn’t realize he’d scheduled me to try the hot bath. I think he’d mentioned it once and I’d said it sounded interesting.” I hoped he couldn’t go back and check and see who had made the appointment. “I was surprised he remembered and wasn’t expecting the appointment.” Lame. I was rambling. This was just awkward. Maybe I should stick with Corey in the not talking to people part of the job.

“So you’ve said.” He flicked his napkin open, dropping it into his lap.

I wasn’t sure how much I should reveal about the spa. I wondered if anyone would recognize me as the girl who was rushed naked to the ship’s clinic, and if Colt had heard about it. I struggled to come up with something else to say. I fiddled with my napkin, looking over my tableware, wondering why there were so many forks.

Someone hovered over my shoulder, and I turned to find Kevin, his black clothing neat, wearing a gold nametag with the name Jerry on it. He held out a tray containing warm wet cloths rolled up like eggrolls. I spotted other people around us taking the warm cloths and washing their hands with them. He asked Mr. Smith first. “Sir, would you like one?” Other people at the table had them. He was going around the circle.

Mr. Smith waved him off, talking again to the person at the next table about some golf tournament. Boring stuff.

Kevin turned to me. Instead of asking if I wanted one, he selected a specific roll on his tray that was off to the side with a set of metal tongs and offered it to me.

I took it, guessing there was something in it for me. Kevin moved on, distracting Colt.

I unrolled the cloth, and it was dry, not wet like the others. Inside was an ear piece and one of the tiny black boxes, like Blake’s, but this one was on a bracelet cord. I put the earpiece in quickly, and then kept my hands under the table to slip the bracelet on. It was loose, but I would be lucky if people passed it off as just a simple bracelet and not something else.

“No,” Colt was saying to Kevin. “I’m sure. Thanks, really. My hands are clean.”

Kevin moved on, checking in with me quickly. I nodded and smiled, trying to reassure him I’d put everything into place. I wondered if word had gotten to him about the stunt I’d pulled in the bathroom.

Colt resumed looking around the table, although he shifted his chair closer to mine. “The help around here is really...helpful.”

“I think that’s their job,” I said.

“True,” he said and then turned fully toward me. He was making it obvious he wanted to talk to only me. I couldn’t even see Axel with Colt’s body taking up my whole view. “So, did you ever find your tablet?”

“No,” I said, glad he brought it up because I had forgotten I’d told him that. “I’ve asked some of the workers to find it. I filed a report with security, although I have to be honest, I don’t think they really took me seriously.” I didn’t mean to talk bad about security because I didn’t actually know they were incompetent.

“I kind of got the same feeling about them.” He picked up his water glass and took a sip. “They should take this more seriously. You were attacked physically. Other people could be in trouble. I had to report my cell phone. That was stolen today.”

I popped my lips open into an “o” shape, hoping I looked genuinely surprised. “When?” I asked. “How?”

“The last time I saw it was before I went into the kitchen, right before your tablet was stolen,” he said. “I’ve got a feeling maybe during cleaning up that mess, the thief must have been still nearby. Either I dropped it while I was helping you and it got swiped, or he picked my pocket during the chaos.”

“I can’t believe this,” I said. “It’s such a nice ship. It’s hard to believe there would be thieves on board.”

He nodded. “I have a feeling I know who it is, or who might be at least partially responsible.”

Uh oh. “Who?”

“That guy who ran into the kitchen, causing my coffee to spill, and a lot of distraction.”

Brandon. I fought a grimace, not wanting to arouse suspicion. “Well he can’t be the thief,” I said matter-of-factly. “He was right in front of you. And then in front of me during that time.”

“It makes me think he was distracting me. He did a good job redirecting the attention of everyone from the dining room, leaving you alone to get your coffee.” He tilted his head. “Is there any reason they’d want your tablet in particular?”