Locked (Savage Men 2)

And bloody.

Fuck no.

Over my dead body.

She’s mine now. I decided to keep her, so the animals will have to stalk some other prey. If they get in my way, I’ll hunt them down.

The closer I get, the more agitated I feel, and I’m getting pumped up by the chase. I need to find her quickly before the sun sets. She doesn’t know how to navigate this jungle like I do, especially not when it’s dark.

I run as fast as I can, darting through the jungle like a tiger.

However, the moment I spot the red color of the top she was wearing, I stop in my tracks and turn.

I approach the bushes and push them aside.

There she is, in the middle of the overgrown leaves and plants.

Her body limp, and her eyes closed.

She’s out.

Did she fall?

Or did she pass out from something else like a wound?

I grasp her and pull her up, but she still doesn’t come to.

Damn this woman. If she stayed put, none of this would’ve happened, and she’d still be awake. What if something happened? I wasn’t there to save her. She shouldn’t have run.

I sigh as I lift her and throw her over my shoulder.

Nothing I can do to change it now.

She ran even though she said she wouldn’t.

I guess I can’t trust her words.

So I’ll trust my own strength and intuition instead.

Chapter Five

Accompanying Song: “Hungry Faces” by Mogwai

Juliet

When I come to, my head hurts a lot less than it did, but I feel so hot.

Something’s on top of me. Something heavy and thick. I don’t know what it is, but it feels… furry.

I blink a couple of times and focus.

It’s a blanket.

Actually, it looks more like a dead animal.

I shoot up, but I’m immediately bounced back down again to the bed I’m on. Pain shoots through my arms.

“Aww … shit …” I hiss, biting my lip.

I try to pull my hands toward my face to check, but I can’t.

They’re tied to the makeshift bed.

“What the …?” I try to jerk free, but it’s no use.

He actually tied me up?

I try to sit up and check my surroundings, but it’s damn hard when your arms are tied to the bed in a way that makes it almost impossible to move. With some flexible and weird moves, I finally manage to get my legs off the bed and my hands awkwardly inched to the side.

I look around to see where I am.

I was right; it is a bed, made completely of wood and fur.

Are these real dead animals underneath me?

I cringe at the thought and immediately nudge the blanket away by moving out from underneath it.

What the hell is this place?

Everything in this hut is made of wood. The door, a bench, a table, even the thing that could pass for a kitchen, but not really.

Does he live here? Did he make a house all by himself?

It’s tiny but not too tiny. Like a home you’d rent for vacation.

Only this isn’t a vacation … not for me.

I shiver. I wish I’d never got on that helicopter. I should’ve said no. Should’ve turned back.

But here I am. It’s too late for wishing. No one can turn back time and change what happened. I made a choice … and now I have to live with it.

But I still can’t stop wondering if I’ll ever get off this island. I can’t stay here. People must be worried sick about me. They’re probably wondering what happened to the helicopter.

I’m alive, and they don’t even know it. I have to do everything in my power to let my family know.

But what about Ollie? And Pete?

I make a face and swallow away the lump in my throat.

I don’t even know what happened to them. If they made it out alive or not.

I should go search for them.

I try to get up, but the rope around my wrists is a stark reminder of my position.

He did this.

That bear-man.

The same one who put me in the pit now keeps me in his makeshift hut as if I’m some kind of … pet.

I’m not a plaything. I don’t get why he thinks this is okay. I’m not an animal; I’m a human being, and he has no right to lock me up like this.

My eyes scan the room, looking for something I can use to free myself, but all I’ve got is a used unlit candle standing beside me on the wooden nightstand. Who knows what material he made the wax with. I’m not going to touch it—not that it’d be of good use, but still.

Guess I’ll have to bite my way through.

I lower my head to my wrists and start chewing on the rope, trying to ignore the sharp pain in my gums as the fibers poke me. Fleeing right now is of bigger importance than the pain can ever be.