Island of Secrets and Scars

Cameron lounged in the hammock hanging in the corner of her porch, letting the gentle breeze rock her back-and-forth. Part of her wanted Ian to hurry and arrive, so she’d have more than her own thoughts for company, while the other part dreaded this last night with him. She didn’t want to let him go. But what other choice did she have? With the decisions she’d made, she could never go back to the States. And there was no place for Ian here. A remote island in the middle of the Caribbean might be a great place for one of the country’s top surgeons to vacation, but he couldn’t live here permanently.

In the distance, the rolling of the waves reminded her of how much she loved this island. Even if she didn’t love the surrounding water. Being happy here was possible. Everything she’d told Ian about her reasons for staying held true. She loved her friends. Arabella had only ever known this place as home. Keso lived here, and she wouldn’t separate him and Ara. But truth be told, none of those reasons were enough. She could visit her friends, maybe convince Keso to move. For Ian’s love, there was very little she wouldn’t do. The truth was, she couldn’t take Ara to the States. Maybe if she told Ian the truth, he’d realize she wasn’t choosing to let him go. Closing her eyes, she gave her head a hard shake. No. He needed to believe she’d decided to let him go for good. Despite the way she loved him, she could never be with him. Not the way he deserved. The best scenario for him was if he thought she didn’t want to be with him. That way, he could return home and move on with his life. Now that he knew she was alive. Now that he knew there’d never be a future with her, he could move on and create a future with someone else.

Sorrow weighed on her, pulling her into an aching abyss of self-imposed misery. She craved a life with Ian. She wanted quiet mornings and late nights. She wanted a daughter with his unwavering devotion and a son with his quick wit. She wanted all the things that had been just within her reach years ago. But—

A porch board creaked with the weight of a footstep. Everything in Cameron froze, except her pounding heart. Another creak of a board. The footsteps were feather light. An animal perhaps. Or someone who didn’t want her to know they were there.

She opened her mouth to call to Ian, but thinking better of it, clamped her lips together. Ian wouldn’t sneak. Likely she would’ve heard him before he even reached the cottage. Whoever was on her porch had taken great care to remain undetected.

Damn it. She should’ve insisted Creek stay with her tonight. But at least if someone wanted to cause her or her daughter harm, the dog would protect the girl. For her, the small pistol she’d begun carrying over the past week would have to suffice.

Holding her breath, she clutched the gun in her hand and eased one leg over the side of the hammock, then lowered herself to the porch. A shadow appeared, making its way around the side of the cottage toward where she crouched, waiting.

She tried to steady her breathing, to calm the frantic racing of her heart. The attempt proved useless. As the shadow moved around the corner, it morphed into a large flesh and blood man. One she recognized.

“I know you’re out here,” Victor’s thug stage-whispered. “I’ve been watching you… all night.”

Her stomach twisted as she remembered how she’d lingered during her shower, then leisurely dressed afterward.

“I thought you were getting ready for a visitor, but Keso’s tucked in on his boat, licking his wounds, and you’re all alone.”

Not all alone. Not if Ian showed up. Suddenly, she couldn’t decide if she wanted him here or if his presence would only make matters worse.

As the intruder stomped toward her, his thick boots pounding over the old weatherworn planks, she realized continuing to hide was pointless. Gripping the small pistol in her hand, she rose to her feet. “What do you want?”

The man stopped. A slow, eerie smile seeped across his face. Why hadn’t she shot him first? Fuck being a good person or doing the right thing. The predatory grin on the bastard’s face told her tonight wasn’t a night where good or right would triumph.

“What do you want?” she repeated.

“The girl.”

Although she suspected as much, fear rushed through her, causing her hands to shake at his admission. “No. That’s not an option.”

The thug smirked. “Oh, there are options. Let me explain them to you.” He stalked forward. Every muscle in Cameron’s body urged her to move away, but she had nowhere to go. Like an idiot, she’d backed herself into a corner. Literally. The only way off the porch was into the house—or through the man who hunted her.

He held up his large paw, unfolding one thick finger. “You can tell me where the girl is, and I can go get her.” A second finger joined the first. “You can refuse. I can beat it out of you and go get her.”

His words caused her stomach to twist violently. Bile rose in her throat.

A third finger straightened. “I can kill you, wait until the girl surfaces and get her. Either way, I get what belongs to Victor.”

“She doesn’t belong to him. People don’t belong to other people.” The steel in her voice shocked her. Despite the way her body quaked, her voice remained steady.

He snickered. “That’s where you’re wrong. Everyone belongs to someone, princess. Even you.”

The man lunged forward. Cameron raised the gun. Squeezing off two shots, she turned and raced for the door. She’d have to go through the house and out the front to get around him. As she went through the door, the man’s heavy weight fell on top of her, sending her crashing to her bedroom floor. Her breath left her in a heavy whoosh as she landed. Pain shot through her body, and the gun flew from her hand. Frantically, she clawed the floorboards. Desperate to get out from under her attacker, she reared back with her elbow. Easily, he batted her arm away. Then slammed his forehead into the back of her head, sending her face into the hard floor. Color exploded in her brain and so much pain she almost blacked out.

“No, you don’t,” the man murmured. Levering himself over her, he grabbed her shoulder and yanked her to her back. He hovered above her, his scarred face only inches from hers. Blood dripped from a wound on his shoulder, landing on the bare skin of her throat with a sticky splat.

“Where’s the girl?” His hands wrapped around her throat.

Cameron had never been large, but with his hands surrounding her neck, she felt minuscule.

“Tell me and I’ll let you go. You don’t want to die for a kid that isn’t even yours.”

Fisting her hands, she beat his barrel chest to no avail. Ara was hers. She’d die a hundred painful deaths to keep the girl safe.

His grip loosened. Eagerly, she sucked in air, filling her lungs.

“Where. Is. She?” He bit out.

Summoning all her strength, she spit in his face. The insult earned her a sharp backhand. Her already pounding head rolled to the left. Blood filled her mouth until she feared she’d choke on it. The monster’s hands went back to her throat.

“I think I’ll just kill you. It won’t be hard to get what we need from Keso anyway.”

At the mention of Keso, she squirmed under the man, pushing her feet into the floor to lift her hips and buck him off. Nothing.

“If he’d left this all alone, Vic might have forgot what he saw. But Keso was just so fucking persistent. Like those damn little yappy dogs.” As he spoke, his grip tightened around Cameron’s neck.

She clawed at his wrists, reached for his face. Her nails broke with the force of her attack. Still, he squeezed. Eventually, her fists became too heavy to lift. They slipped down the man’s body, smearing his blood on her hands. Her vision dimmed. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t fight. In her mind, she heard Ian’s voice above the sound of her heartbeats slowing. She would’ve liked to tell him goodbye, to make sure he knew how much she loved him. To ask him to let Ara know how very much she’d loved her too.