Beyond the Horizon Read online

  Monk too was given a long sentence for the kidnapping of Pink and for several counts of rape after multiple girls came forward after his arrest. Just like his father, he hurt many people. At least now he cannot continue the Bennett legacy of crime, murder and violence. The line stops dead with him. Blinking back my tears, I push down those thoughts and continue reading.

  This morning I realised something. I realised that it’s time to stop being a fucking coward. I’ve waited long enough to contact you. I’m a bastard, and I want to apologise for the pain you’ve endured because of me. I’m so damn sorry for everything…

  But most of all I’m so sorry I couldn’t stay.

  For the past couple of months I’ve been hiding out here on Grace Bay Beach, the same place I found this shell all those years ago. I want you to know that I never intended on leaving you the way I did. I wanted to say goodbye this time, but after getting Veronika to a place of safety, I knew it would be difficult to return or even contact you given the circumstances. Grayson took the fall for all of us and I owe him more than I can ever repay. He was always the good guy. One day, I’ll find a way to help him. I swear it.

  “I don’t think I can read any more,” I say, my eyes filling with tears that are now falling down my face. Grandma Silva looks at me, her gentle smile encouraging.

  “Yes, you can, Connie. You’ve longed to receive word from Malakai. You owe it to yourself to read on. I’m here for you,” she adds, wrapping her arm around my waist, giving me her unwavering support. Wiping at the tears on my cheeks, my eyes absorb his words.

  Little Siren, I have many, many faults and a past that is riddled with darkness that I may never be able to shake. You deserve to know all of my secrets. You deserve to know who I truly am before you decide whether I’m the man for you.

  When I left the island, I asked Grant to take care of the items in this box with instructions to pass them onto you when the time came. Beneath the conch shell, you’ll find four notebooks filled with all the terrible things I’ve ever done. I’m not a fairytale prince or a knight in shining armour. I’m flawed, damaged, broken in many ways.

  So, I’m giving you these notebooks, Little Siren. I’m giving you the ability to see right into my soul.

  This is me. This is who I am. In these diaries you will find out everything there is to know about me. God knows I want to be enough for you. I want to be worthy of your love. Maybe one day I will be or maybe after reading these you’ll think differently, and I’ll lose you forever.

  Either way, it’s time to stop being afraid.

  You see, Little Siren, I’m not afraid of how I feel anymore.

  I will wait for as long as you need. Forever, if that’s what it takes.

  But the minute I hear your siren’s call, I’ll come home.

  Forever yours,

  Malakai.

  With tears streaming down my face, I lay the note gently on the table and reach inside the box, peeling back another layer of tissue paper to reveal a dark leather notebook. My fingers pass over the soft leather, and I bring the topmost notebook up to my face, drawing in a deep breath and savouring the memories it conjures inside my heart. I glance at Grandma, who is studying me carefully, her eyes moist.

  “What should I do?” I ask her. There’s a darkness to Malakai, I’ve known that all along, but do I really, truly, want to know the secrets of his past?

  “What is your head telling you to do, Connie?” Grandma asks, urging me to be honest.

  “To read the notebooks…”

  “And your heart?”

  “To never open them and love him anyway.”

  She nods, cupping my cheek in her hand. “Our pasts shouldn’t define us, Connie. They might leave a lasting mark and memories that scar us, but in the end we can only ever really live in the moment. We can only trust in our instincts and what we know to be true about the people we love. You need to live now. Both of you. Otherwise, what’s the point of any of this?”

  “But what about the things he’s done?”

  “He’s a good man, Connie.”

  “And the curse?”

  “I don’t know what the future holds for you, Connie, or for Malakai. What I do know is that you aren’t alive without him and by the looks of this letter, he’s not alive without you. This half-life you’re living isn’t something I want for you. I was wrong to push him away. If Malakai hadn’t returned, if he hadn’t come back that night, we would all be dead. That has to mean something. It must.”

  “It does. It means everything, Grandma.”

  “Then do what your heart says. Call him home, Connie. Call him home.”

  I place the leather notebook back in the box and settle the conch shell back on top of them. Folding the flaps back over, I take my grandma’s hands in mine, a feeling of peace settling over me. “I’m not going to call Malakai home, Grandma. I’m going to bring him home.”

  Grandma Silva smiles, her tears welling. “That’s my girl,” she says, pulling me into her arms and squeezing tight.

  Thirty-Seven

  Malakai

  It’s been two weeks since I sent the letter. Two weeks of obsessively checking my phone, waiting for Connie’s call. Grant delivered the letter with the package just like I requested, leaving it on Connie’s doorstep, messaging me the very same day.

  Like a fool, I’d hoped Connie would read it and call me. I hoped that she would see the honesty in my words, and that even after reading my notebooks, she would still want me.

  I guess her silence really only tells me one thing, that she’s changed her mind.

  Looking out to the deserted beach from the deck of my hut, I gaze at the darkening sky. It’s a midnight blue, a colour that reminds me of Connie’s beautiful eyes. So rich, so full, so open with possibilities.

  That night when I left with Veronika, I had no time to say goodbye. No time to wrap Connie in my arms and tell her all the things I needed to say. Time wasn’t on our side, and I’ve had to keep my head down until Grayson’s court case was heard and his sentence given.

  He’s a better man than I’ll ever be. He sacrificed his life and his happiness for all of us.

  But that was over a month ago. Fear had kept me away. Fear of my feelings towards Connie. Fear that I’ll never live up to the man she believes me to be.

  Then one morning I’d awoken and realised that I had to take a leap of faith. That I don’t want anyone else apart from the girl who broke down my walls as though they were made of sand and not granite. So I wrote the letter and asked Grant to deliver it with my notebooks and the conch shell, hoping, praying she would still find it in herself to love me.

  Sighing heavily, I stand and wander towards the row of huts that line the beach a little further along the stretch of sand. There’s a bar that stays open for the tourists who’ve come here on a romantic break away. This portion of the island is for adults only. A holiday destination for the loved-up. I’ve mostly kept to myself, needing the privacy that this resort caters to so well. Each hut has their own private section of beach, undisturbed by anyone else. During the day, I’ve spent the time writing in my newly purchased notebook. Everything within the pages is about my Little Siren. A love story of sorts, I suppose.

  At night, I swim in the ocean or walk to the bar and have a couple of drinks.

  The rest of the time, I wait for my siren’s call.

  This is the longest I’ve ever lived on land and whilst I miss Princess, I needed to feel the surety of the ground beneath my feet. She’s moored up in the harbour a mile or so from here, ready and waiting for the moment we can set sail back to Connie.

  I realise now that moment may never come.

  Reaching the bar, I nod to the bartender and he brings me over a bourbon. Instead of knocking it back, I take a sip and lean against the bar, looking out across the ocean. Tonight the moon is a round silver orb in the sky. It looms large above the water, its reflection sparkling against the midnight-blue sea. The bar has a handful of couples, all lo
st within each other’s orbit. No one notices me sitting alone and that’s perfectly okay. I don’t want to talk. I just want Connie.

  I just want my Little Siren.

  Finishing off my drink, I place the tumbler back on the bar and move to stand. A light breeze buffets against me, filling my nose with a familiar scent, of a sweetness and a foreign sea that pulls me up sharp.

  It can’t be…

  Then I hear the strumming of a guitar and my heart clenches inside my chest as the couples turn their attention to the person playing just out of sight. My steps falter as though I’m wading through viscous honey towards the sound, drawn inexplicably towards it.

  Little Siren…?

  Her voice greets me, the melodic softness making my insides melt, and my blood thrum with fire, a combination that has my skin breaking out in sweat. Hoping that I’m not mistaken, I move around the corner of the bar and lay my eyes on the one person I’ve longed for my whole damn life.

  Connie.

  Time stills alongside my breath. She’s here. Our eyes meet and a riot of emotions cascade over her beautiful face ending with one I never thought I’d deserve. Love. Smiling gently, Connie begins to sing…

  A thousand words reveal your soul

  A lifetime scrawled across the pages

  My heart it weeps for you

  But the past doesn’t matter when you make me whole

  Oh, my love, my love, my love

  Don’t you see there’s nothing that can break us

  You’re the deep ocean, I’m the silvery moon

  Two forces pulled together

  Now I’m no longer alone

  Oh, my love, my love, my love

  With you, my heart is full

  With you, my soul’s no longer lost.

  With you my life’s complete

  Be with me, take me. I’m yours

  Oh, my love, my love, my love

  You stole my heart, don’t run again

  There’s no other place I’m willing to be

  Without you I’m lost

  Together we’re free

  Oh, my love, my love, my love

  You have sailed thousands of miles

  Run from life and suffered loss

  Now it’s time to let it all go

  Stay with me, be my beau

  Oh, my love, my love, my love

  With you, my heart is full

  With you, my soul’s no longer lost.

  With you my life’s complete

  Be with me, take me. I’m yours

  Oh, my love, my love, my love…

  As the song comes to an end I realise that I’m grasping hold of the bar so tight that I fear I might break a bone. Around me the couples cheer and clap. Connie smiles shyly, her long chocolate tresses blowing in the ocean breeze as she stands and places her guitar on the stand beside her feet. She’s wearing a long white dress that cinches in at the waist and flows gently over her hips. Barefoot and beautiful, my Little Siren calls to me.

  “Malakai,” she whispers her attention solely on me.

  She calls and this time I run to her without fear or caution.

  Striding across the soft wooden deck, I pull her into my arms, crushing her against my chest as I breath in her scent of all things that are wild and free. “You’re here,” I murmur, not sure if this is all a dream.

  “I came for you,” she replies gently, her voice cracking with emotion as she holds on tight.

  The crowd cheers as I lift her into my arms, cradling her lush body against my chest. I need to be inside her. I need to fucking love her with everything that I am.

  “Little Siren, I need you…” I mutter, moving across the deck, oblivious to the onlookers’ gazes.

  “I need you too.” Her lips press against the crook of my neck sending shockwaves of pleasure to my already stiffening cock. I have so many questions, so much to ask, to say, but before I can even begin to unravel how she got here, I need to quench my need for her just enough to keep me sane.

  “Where are we going?” she asks, a smile on her cupid’s bow lips.

  “Somewhere private,” I manage to utter. The sand is unstable beneath my feet and I stumble a little. “Fuck.”

  “I can walk, Malakai, put me down.” She’s laughing now, her happiness infecting me with its delicious warmth.

  “I was trying to be romantic… I can’t compete with that song.”

  Gently placing Connie on her feet, she reaches for me, her hands clasping the back of my neck as she urges me to kiss her. “You sure about that? The conch shell, your letter, your notebooks. That was pretty romantic, Malakai,” she whispers against my lips.

  “You read my notebooks?” My stomach clenches with fear and self-loathing, making me feel inadequate suddenly.

  Connie brushes her lips against my mouth, shushing my question with a gentle swipe of her tongue as she kisses me. Goddamn this girl and her soft kisses that break me wide open. Her kiss is heartfelt, as though her very essence is bleeding into me with every soft swipe of her tongue. I can only stand helpless, reciprocating every gentle nip, every stroke, every lustful groan. My fingers tangle in her hair as I pull her closer, wanting to slide beneath her skin in my need for her.

  It’s overwhelming.

  I’d take her here, right now if I could, but I need to know the answer to my question.

  Breaking from the kiss, I cup her head in my hands. “Did you read my notebooks?” I repeat, searching her face.

  “No, Malakai. I didn’t.”

  “Why?”

  She reaches up and strokes her finger over my frown, soothing the anxiety I feel. “A wise woman once told me that your past doesn’t define you. I know the man you are, Malakai. I don’t need to know the man you were.”

  “But…”

  She shakes her head, pressing her finger against my lips. “I haven’t read them because I’m afraid to, far from it. I just know that it doesn’t matter to me. Nothing will stop me loving you, Malakai. Nothing,” she adds fiercely, her navy eyes flashing with conviction.

  Something close to relief washes over me and I grab her hand and start jogging towards my beach hut, her happy laughter wrapping me in warmth as we run. When we finally hit the soft sands of my own private beach, I turn to Connie and yank her against my chest, crowding her with my body as I kiss the breath from her.

  I’m hungry.

  Fucking starving.

  For her, for her love, for this.

  For us.

  Us. One simple word that means everything.

  My Little Siren whimpers when I pull back sharply, her eyes at half-mast, her pretty lips moist and plump from all the kisses, reminding me of the other place I love to taste her. Kneeling before her in the sand, I look up and bask in the love I see in her gaze. She reaches for me, her fingers running over my eyebrows, my cheeks, my nose, my lips, before cupping my face in her hands.

  “Why are you on your knees, Malakai?” she asks me.

  “Worshipping you, my Little Siren. Fucking worshipping you,” I respond, lifting the hem of her dress, my fingers drag up and over her ankles, over her shapely calf muscles, her strong thighs and rounded hips. I rise upwards with the movement, pulling her dress over her head and casting it aside as I look at her.

  She’s a goddess. All wavy hair and lush curves, soft tanned skin and blush pink nipples, and a galaxy of freckles across her chest.

  The tip of Connie’s tongue pushes through the seam of her lips drawing her lower lip into her mouth as her cheeks tinge the same colour as her pert nipples. She’s wearing white lace knickers, the material thin enough for me to see that she has a strip of neatly trimmed hair covering her mound. My cock throbs, begging me to take her right now. But I want to savour this, I want to make love to her until we’re both too spent to do anything more than lie in each other’s arms.

  “Touch me, Malakai. Put your hands between my legs and make me come,” she whispers, her chest heaving, the light breeze dragging the length over her brea
sts.

  “All in good time, Little Siren.”

  Stepping forward, the sand a moving floor beneath our feet, I reach out and feather my fingertips over her shoulders and down her arms. Behind us the waves gently lap against the shore, above us the sky is littered with stars and a moon that shines its silvery light over our skin. She glows in the moon and starlight, beckoning me, calling to every cell inside my body.

  “I want to touch you too,” she says, reaching for the hem of my t-shirt, her knuckles brushing against my skin, drawing goosebumps over every inch of flesh as she frees me from it. My eyes are drawn to her breasts and how they lift and bounce with her movements, and despite wanting to cup them both in my hands, I wait, wanting to draw out this moment. Needing it to last forever.

  Connie undoes the buckle of my jeans and steps closer, her lips and tongue brushing over my chest. She presses her nose in the crook of my neck, breathing in deep, drawing my scent into her lungs, filling herself with me just like I long to fill myself with her. Her small hands slide inside the space between my jeans and my skin, moving over my hips gently before cupping my arse. Her hands squeeze, forcing my hips against her own as she bites on my collarbone hard enough to leave a sting of pain. I fucking nearly blow my load at her gentle touch and her wild bite.