Island of Secrets and Scars

Squeezing Ara until she cried out, Victor then tightened his grip on the gun. “She’s mine.”

“And what will you do with a four-year-old? You should be glad someone else was willing to take—”

“They stole her from me. No one steals from me and gets away with it. Just ask the people on the plane.” He smirked. “Oops. You can’t, can you?” As he stepped toward Ian, Creek lunged for the man’s hand. His teeth sank into flesh. Roberts cried out, squeezing the trigger, and sending a wild bullet past Ian’s shoulder. Seizing the opportunity, Ian rushed forward. Roberts’s grip on Ara loosened as he tried to fling the dog from his arm. The little girl kicked and wiggled until finally she dropped to the ground like a sack of stones. Ignoring the fight between man and dog, Ian ran for her. Before he could reach her, Roberts slung off the dog. Creek landed with a whimper. The man turned his gun on the dog.

“Creek. No.” Ara turned to protect her loyal friend.

Changing direction, Ian lowered his shoulder and hit the other man in the chest. They both crashed to the ground. Ian landed on top. The wind momentarily knocked from them both. Somewhere Arabella screamed. Ian wrapped his hands around Roberts’s gun hand, and when he could find his voice, he yelled for her to run.

“Keke,” she cried, pointing to the house with flames flickering from its roof.

Is that who he’d seen inside? Relief that perhaps Keso, not Cameron, had been home with the girl when Roberts arrived washed over him. Followed quickly by despair that Keso could be dead.

With his free hand, Victor beat at any part of Ian he could reach. A blow landed against Ian’s temple. For a moment, his vision lost color. He swayed but tightened his grip on the other man’s gun hand.

“Go,” Ian ordered Ara again, as Victor assaulted him. Until she was gone, he couldn’t risk letting go of the gun to defend himself. “Hurry. Go to the mermaid caves. I’ll get Keke.”

Though the likelihood of either Keso or Ian surviving was slim, he’d tell her anything to get her far away from Victor Roberts, fire, and guns. “Ara. Go. Now.”

At the stern sound of his command, her gaze snapped from her burning home to him. Those oddly hued eyes that had so ensnared him upon their first meeting filled with tears. A low growl emanated from Creek, who now stood between the girl and the men struggling on the ground.

Ian softened his voice to plead, “Go, baby. Find the mermaid caves.”

Nodding, she turned and sprinted away. Creek hobbled toward Ian. The dog’s head turned back and forth as he struggled with whether to help Ian or follow his girl.

“Go get Ara,” Ian gritted out.

Without hesitation, the dog limped after her.

Victor took advantage of Ian’s divided attention to drive his heels into the ground, then thrust his hips upward. Caught off guard, Ian toppled off the other man, helped along by another blow to his temple. Victor rolled, sending Ian to his back. Now, only one hand held the other man’s wrist. Ian kicked out, catching Roberts in the knee. Bone crunched and Roberts went down. Unfortunately, he fell on top of Ian; the gun sandwiched between them. Fear burned through Ian’s veins. He didn’t want to die. Not here on this island. Not now that he’d finally found Cameron again. But suddenly he understood Cameron’s willingness to suffer at the hands of Victor Roberts. If Ian’s dying meant saving Arabella, then dying is what he’d do. But Victor Roberts would go with him.

Filled with renewed determination, Ian beat at Roberts. His fist struck the man’s head and back. Twisting and bucking, he finally shifted so he could roll them and maybe get the upper hand. Then the gun between them exploded and fire raced through Ian’s chest.

* * *

Cameron returned to her home in a fog. Ian was gone. Despite the futility of such a wish, she’d still let herself hope he might change his mind. Of course, even if he did, she’d end up leaving him again to protect Arabella. Saying goodbye once was enough for her.

A shot rang out, piercing the serenity of the forest around her.

Ara.

Adrenaline exploded in her veins, causing her knees and hands to shake. She’d left the girl at home with Keso when she’d gone to the clinic to tell Ian goodbye. Pushing herself into action, she ran down the path toward her home. When her sandals began to slip, she kicked them off and continued barefoot. She smelled the smoke before she reached the clearing in the forest and found her cottage engulfed in flames.

No. Ara. Keso.

Fear threatened to consume her, but she refused to succumb. Fire and gunshots had robbed her of one daughter, she’d be damned if she’d let them take another one. Searching the area around the house for any sign of her family, her gaze landed on two men barely visible on the other side of the house. They appeared to be wrestling as they rolled on the ground.

Victor Roberts.Of course, the man on top, a gun held in his hand, was the bastard who wanted her daughter. But who - her heart slammed against her ribcage.

Ian.

Ian lay underneath Roberts, fighting and bleeding.

No. Ian was on the boat. She’d told him goodbye and sent him home. To safety.

Time was running out. Roberts wouldn’t toy with Ian forever and Cameron’s house was burning—possibly with her daughter inside. Creeping to the small shed, Cameron grabbed the shovel she used when helping with the garden. Quickly, she scurried across the lawn, careful to keep out of sight from Roberts. Sneaking up behind him, she raised the shovel and brought it down, aiming for his head. At the last moment, he rocked sideways. The blow struck his shoulder instead. The gun flew from his hand, and he fell off Ian.

Her lover stared up at her. Shock and relief filled his brown eyes. Blood coverd his shirt, spreading from a hole just below his left collarbone.

“You bitch,” Roberts growled, scrambling to his feet. “I should’ve come for you myself and ended you for good.”

Her gaze flickered to the gun lying on the ground. She’d have to pass him to get it. Slowly, Roberts clambered to his feet. Widening her stance, she tightened her grip on the shovel and lifted the tool like a baseball bat.

“I will kill you,” he threatened. “Just like I killed that motherfucker who you helped steal what belongs to me.”

Keso. So he was dead? Or had Victor Roberts miscalculated like his crony?

“She’s a girl, not a possession. And she was never yours.” Cameron had always known Ara belonged with her and Keso, not Roberts. Now she was more convinced than ever.

“She’s mine,” he roared. The cool composure he’d shown at the clinic shattered. “That whore and her baby belonged to me.” He slammed a fist against his chest. “I owned them, and I’ll do what I want with them.” In his rage, he stalked toward her.

Cameron stood her ground. “You killed her. You didn’t want her or her baby, so you let your men torture and rape her until her body gave out.”

“And she should’ve died before she gave birth. My men assured me she had. I believed them. Until I saw the girl and those fucking eyes. I thought she was yours, so I checked. There’s no record anywhere of you having a daughter.” A slow, small smile crept over his face. “Not a living one anyway.”

Rage, fueled by pain, consumed her. With all her strength, she swung the shovel. Roberts lunged forward. The shovel hit him on the arm. As he continued to advance, she pulled back and swung again. This time, the shovel broke across his chest. He slammed into her, and they hit the ground. The sickening sound of her cracked ribs snapping almost made her vomit. Pain stole her breath as black crept into her vision.

Above her, Roberts loomed, a sneer on his deceptively handsome face. His dimple caved. The dimple that looked so sweet and innocent on the girl she called daughter.

“You’re going to die,” he vowed, wrapping his hands around her neck.

She already struggled to breathe as her ribs and the weight of her attacker kept her lungs from fully expanding. “Fuck you,” she whispered.

“I thought about it. Maybe we should’ve tried that first.”

Bang.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Cameron waited for the pain to come. Nothing. A weight slumped on top of her. But no more pain. No fiery burn like when she’d been shot in Africa.

“Cam. Oh my God, Cam.”

Ian.

He was alive. Struggling, she opened her eyes. Ian’s face swam above her as he struggled to shift something off her. Victor Roberts. Cameron turned her head and stared into the lifeless eyes of the man who’d tried to take her life.

“You… You shot him?”