Australia.

This was somewhere you had never seen yourself in your many years of living, yet here you were. It was the only place where you could freely run from the cops, anyway—and it felt almost refreshing to be somewhere where no one knew you. It was invigorating—liberating to have a new name.

A new start.

A new life.

Until you had to flee again, anyways.

And the eye candy here wasn’t too bad; either. You tried to steer clear of relationships. Too messy, too consuming—and you were running from your past and didn’t need it to catch up to you yet and make things complex. So, when a man named Simon found himself sat next to you in a bar—his handsome, masculine features on full display as he drank his whiskey—you wanted to run for the hills. Yet somehow, you ended up running right into his bed.

A no commitment, one night stand. No harm, no foul, right?

An amazing one night stand at that—but like all good things, it had to end. Even if he was devastatingly beautiful and mysterious and everything bad for you. Maybe that’s why it felt so good.

But after it all, you found yourself slipping your fingers into the pockets of his jeans and taking his credit and debit cards and taking photos of his ID. You told yourself it was fine and you didn’t really think you’d see him again. You ducked away when he was sleeping and disappeared—you were good at leaving without a trace.

So, days later on the beach—you were enjoying the hot Summer sun on your skin; your eyes closed as you drank in the warmth. This—this was freedom. Heaven.

”Enjoying the sun?”

That deep voice was enough to send guilt swirling through your stomach and fear kissing your spine.

You peeked an eye open and there he was—standing with that same intense gaze.

“Come, I wanna take you on a boat ride,” Simon said, gesturing toward the water with his chin.

“I don’t think I want—“

“I wasn’t asking,” he said.