Danny's POV
The Hawaiian air was supposed to be sweet, right? Hibiscus and sea salt and all that expensive crap. But sitting on the edge of the stone fountain in the villa’s back garden, all I could smell was the leftover gin on my own skin and the burning torch oil.
I had my sketchbook open, my charcoal pencil scratching out jagged, ugly lines that didn't look like the ocean at all. They looked like cages. I was trying to breathe, trying to forget the way Chadwick had looked at me over his coffee this morning, like I was a trophy he had already won and placed on a shelf.
"Hey. Nice drawings."
The voice hit me like a bucket of ice water. I didn't just look up, I nearly choked on my own spit. I blinked, rubbing my eyes so hard I probably smeared charcoal all over my face.
Standing the
