There Will Be Blood (not mine)

31. Paradise Lost

JUSTIN POV

I sat in the plush chaise lounge of the private villa I had been imprisoned in. The waves were crashing against the shore, the sun was high in the sky, the sea breeze was flowing in the palm trees, and the rich were out in their yachts.

I hated the Bahamas.

I scowled back down at my copy of Paradise Lost by famed author John Milton. I had already read the last half of the epic poem entitled Paradise Regained. I know, strange that I read them backwards, but I understood them better that way. The series was grating on my last nerves, but it seemed fitting for my environment, so I pushed through.

I had already been in this hell hole for a full week, and I thought that the permanent sun was going to melt my skin off. In Chicago, we were blessed with the coverage of clouds and wonderful smog. I liked that. This place was torture.

When I got here, I suddenly remembered why I hated the beach so much. How on earth did someone put up with all the sand? It got everywhere and was impossible to get rid of. It was so grainy and obtrusive. No matter how much I tried to brush the shit off, it stuck to my skin and my clothes like tar. How was I supposed to enjoy myself when I was being attacked by miniature microbes? It was disgusting.

I would rather be drinking in my penthouse or spending my holidays at the shooting range, but I promised Maddie that I would try and have a good time here in beach hell. After all, it was Christmas, and I guessed it was nice for a change of pace, although, I don't know how anyone ever lived like this. There was nothing to do here but sit.

"This is stupid," I muttered to myself and looked back down at my book.

Christmas had been six days ago, and now, I just wanted to get back to Chicago. I guessed I could have up and left anytime I wanted since we had brought the jet, but I wouldn't have anything better to do back home so I stayed out of a self-convinced need for relaxation. I came with my parents and Jaxon who were all taking full advantage of the small island and I really did try to join in on things, but they held no interest for me. Of course, I didn't want to ruin their holidays, so I never said anything to them. I would go on the boat rides and travel into town to shop, but my attitude was surly to say the least.

It must be something about the sand and surf. I wasn't normally this way, was I?

I figured that most of the problems I was internally dealing with came from missing a certain someone, but I tried to tell myself that that wasn't it.

Maddie and I talked every day. Sometimes I would call her and others, she would call me, but we always talked. The webcam idea was a very good one, and I was so fucking glad that I had thought of it. I wouldn't admit it, but I didn't know how I would have survived if I couldn't see her face. On her end, things were going well. The bodyguards were keeping her safe and they called me every day with an update, but there hadn't been any issues.

Maddie had a good Christmas and got the antique books that I had sent her, just another gift I thought of.

To my surprise, she had gotten me something that I found equally enjoyable.

She must've found my old record collection that I kept in my library. I was all for using my iPod, but some music just sounded better on a gramophone. Grandpa Rossini had given me his old one from the twenties, and his collection of records was impressively intact. Somehow, Maddie had found three rare Elvis vinyl's that looked like they had never been touched. I was almost jumping around on Christmas morning because I had finally gotten a gift that I had never thought of getting for myself. I usually just said "thank you" to anything I received since I probably already had whatever I was receiving. Maddie had cracked me. She had given me a new found appreciation for my records; it was part of the reason I wanted to get home.