We make it back to the cave then begin the descent toward the beach, but I don’t hear any more voices. I ignore the foreboding that builds in my chest. I’m not giving up. It’s the first sign of civilization we’ve seen since we got here and I’m not giving up now. But the distance is longer than I thought, and it seems we’re running so much longer than we should.
“Are we lost?” Will asks. “You sure this is the right way?”
I look wildly around me but do recognize where we are.
“Left,” I say, panting. There’s a stitch in my side and between the water I drank and the scarcity of food in my stomach, I feel like I’m going to be sick, but I push on. We run until we make it to the beach. The stark, empty fucking beach.
I drop my elbows to my knees, panting, my lungs constricted so I can hardly speak.
“You see anything?” I say in between gasps.
“They’re gone,” Will says. His voice cracks and I swear he’s on the verge of tears. “There’s no one here.”
I curse, my own throat tight, but I refuse to cry. I learned young that real men don’t cry. ever.
And I won’t cry now.
“They left that quickly? They looked like they were out for a daytime excursion.”
“Jesus,” he mutters, shaking his head, and he swipes his hand across his eyes. The bastard’s crying. It makes me want to beat him all over again. “What the fuck? Where’d they go?”
“For Christ’s sake, stop your blubbering,” I mutter, but I hate myself for saying that because it was the constant refrain I heard growing up.
Real mean don’t cry.
Stop your blubbering.
Man up.
I walk over to him and shake my head, my voice gruffer than I intend. “It’s alright. It’s a sign that we’re not as isolated as we think.”
Even though I hate him, even though I hate that I’ve become the bastard who has no mercy, it makes me feel more human than I have in days… weeks… months.
But he pushes me away. “Shut up,” he says, full on crying now. “We are isolated. We’ve got nothing to eat and we’re going to fucking die here and you know it.” Tears stream down his cheeks and it makes me so mad I have to breathe through my nose so I don’t hurt him. My hand clenches into a fist and I want to deck him again. He’s a slow learner.
He opens his mouth to speak, then pauses with his mouth still hanging open. Wordlessly, he points behind me. I turn, half expecting to see Eugene. I’m ready to attack. But when I turn, I don’t see what I expect at all.
There’s a woman with her back to us, so far up on the ridge she couldn’t hear us if we called her. She’s curvy and gorgeous, with billows of vibrant auburn hair. I can’t see much more than that but can see she’s dressed in a skimpy dress and walking away from us.
“It’s a woman,” Will says, as if that isn’t fucking obvious.
I turn to him, a different kind of hunger consuming my every thought, consuming every fiber of my being, and a ferocious need to protect what’s mine rages through me.
“She’s mine.”FourHarperThis island is magnificent. Breathtakingly beautiful. I’ve been so taken by the sights around me for days, and even now I still can’t process the vibrant blue of the ocean, the beautiful white of the sand, the endless sky and greenery that surrounds the island like icing on a cake. This is the stuff that dreams are made of. Utter paradise.
The cruise ship has been amazing, and I’ve indulged more in the past week than I have my entire life. Mimosas in the morning and omelets made to order, decadent desserts and chocolate fountains, filet mignon and the largest, most succulent shrimp I’ve ever had. And even though there are other guests on board, I somehow feel as if I’m the one they’re most focused on. I convince myself that it’s because I’m the weirdo that won the all-inclusive cruise.
It feels a little creepy, if I’m honest. When I enter the dining room, all eyes are on me. At the spa, I have half a dozen women waiting on me hand and foot. The chef has paid me a personal visit when dining multiple times now, asking if there’s anything at all he can do for me.
And I just can’t get used to it. I’m the independent one, ready to take care of whatever or whoever I need to. I’m not used to being served like this, and it makes me a little uneasy. That’s the only reason I can fathom that this whole luxurious vacation has me on edge.
When we finally dock on an island, and we’re told we can roam freely for a few hours, I eagerly get off the ship. I don’t trust anyone, so I take my bags with me, but I packed fairly lightly. I throw my backpack on, take my phone, and get ready to take some pictures.