Leaving the others to discuss their plans, I slip out of the small room and climb the short ladder to the roof, spotting Achilles right away.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” he grumbles when he glances over at me.

I scoff. “I wasn’t coming to babysit. I was coming to keep you company.”

“Don’t need that either.”

“Whatever,” I growl, climbing up anyway. “You don’t have to be such a dick twenty-four seven, you know. It’s possible to be nice.”

“Why? So you can add me to your stable?” he asks with a raised brow.

I take a seat next to him, realizing he’d been staring at Predator Point. “My stable is none of your business unless you plan on putting your cock where your mouth is,” I grumble, wrapping my arms around my knees and staring at the island in the distance. “You think there’s a lot of them?”

He follows my gaze. “Row says that everyone who is anyone is over there. I bet there’s some sexy women there. Maybe I can find me a sugar momma.”

“No sugar daddy?” I tease, grinning at him.

“Depends on the price,” he shoots back with a smile.

A sense of companionship passes between us, one I don’t expect.

“You know, you did good,” he says suddenly.

I frown. “When?”

“The whole time,” he shrugs. “You’ve survived this fucked up island for a week now and I’m constantly surprised by that.”

“You need to work on your compliments,” I grumble. “They’re a bit backhanded.”

The chuckle that slips from his lips is soft, startled, as if he didn’t expect the enjoy himself while spending time with me. “You know, you’re not half bad,” he admits.

“Getting better,” I laugh. “Maybe next time you’ll get the compliment thing down.”

He bumps his shoulder against mine with another chuckle and we settle into silence again, watching the other island that’s fucked us over so royally, I know I’ll never be the same after this. How could I be? I’ll think there’s someone trying to kidnap me around every corner, or that I’m about to be shot.

“I think you’re pretty cool, too,” I finally say, glancing over at him. “Even if you are an asshole.”

His eyes meet mine and hold. “Now who’s the one giving backhanded compliments?”

The air between us grows tense and I have the sudden urge to initiate more. I push it down though. Achilles has made it clear he doesn’t think too highly of me despite his words. It would be silly to embarrass myself more in front of him, to give him more ammunition.

“I just have to pay you back for all the ones you’ve given me,” I respond.

But we don’t look away from each other.