Locked (Savage Men 2)

That girl was someone’s child. Parents are missing a piece of their soul right now, and nothing he says or does will fill that hole she left. Nothing can undo what he did. Nothing can bring her back.

Which is why I’m so upset. He did something unforgivable. How can I go on talking with him as if everything is normal after knowing he did something like that?

No wonder he refused to tell me why he hates people. No one would react well to hearing that.

A young girl killed at the hands of a beast …

I shake my head and cut harder into the wood. I can’t believe I’m still so pissed off, but I am. Some part of me wishes he wouldn’t have told me. But that wouldn’t have been right either. That girl deserved better.

He should feel guilty.

He should’ve done everything in his power to make it right even though that’s impossible.

But anything is better than nothing … better than fleeing. Like a coward.

Enraged, I slam the wood so hard it snaps off.

“Goddammit!” I scream, throwing the tool away.

Blowing out a sigh, I rub my forehead and wipe off all the sweat.

I should’ve finished a long time ago, and now it’ll take even longer to fix this. I wanted it done before he came back. If he ever does because I still haven’t seen him.

Is he hiding somewhere? Waiting to catch me by surprise?

Or is he alone somewhere on the island, thinking about his crime?

I wonder how long he’s walked with this secret … how long he’s kept it to himself.

If I’m the only one he’s ever told.

I swallow away the lump in my throat.

He did say he was sorry. Maybe he does regret it deeply. Maybe it was a mistake he never wanted to happen.

Should we forever be punished for something we did in the past? Even if it’s as horrible as can be? Even if it’s unforgivable, is it my place to judge?

I clench my fists. At this point, I don’t even know what to do anymore. I’ve wanted off this island since I came here, and he’s put every inch of his effort into making me stay.

It’s as if he was desperate for a companion. Desperate for someone to understand him. Someone to talk to.

I’m like that little girl to him, but he didn’t kill me.

In fact, by not coming to the hut for days, it’s almost as if he wants me to go.

As though he’s giving me everything I need to escape.

As if he knows he deserves nothing less.

But could I?

Could I leave him here, knowing he came here after being chased away with pitchforks and fire? Could I crucify him the same way those people did when they wanted to find the killer and probably plastered his face all over the news?

I always knew there was something about him, something dark and unspoken. Something he didn’t want me to know …

But I needed to know.

And he knew that. He knew how I’d react. Anyone would be mad.

Yet he told me anyway.

Was that his way of showing me his heart? Showing me he’d do anything to make me trust him? To keep me, even if it meant possibly losing me?

I lick my lips and contemplate what to do.

I can’t leave like this. Not after what he told me. Not without resolving this.

I may be mad at what he did, but we’re both still human.

And when I leave, he’ll have no one left.

I have to know where he is and what he’s doing.

I need to know if he’ll be all right.

So I drop everything and take a deep breath before walking into the jungle again. With my pouch filled with water attached to my waist on a rope, I can search the jungle for a few hours without getting dehydrated.

First thing I do is go to the beach where I last saw him. The place I left him behind.

It doesn’t take me long to get there, and when I do, my throat immediately clamps up.

There he is … in the sand … with his face buried in his arms.

After all these days …

Did he stay there all this time?

Or has he come back, hoping I would too?

I lick my lips and stare at him as he raises his head and gazes at the sea. There’s a small patch of fur right beside him and a pouch made of leaves, probably filled with water.

I sigh. He looks so sad, sitting there on his own, waiting for … God knows what.

I approach, and my feet stumble over a piece of wood. I barely manage to catch myself before I fall.

Suddenly, he turns his face and looks straight at me.

When our eyes lock, my heart stops beating.

Seconds seem like minutes as we stare at each other. Everything around me fades into the background. The look in his eyes is one of pure misery … and it breaks my heart in two.