by Rachel Lacey
This morning, she couldn’t bring herself to let go of Nicole and climb out of this safe, warm cocoon they’d created together. So she let her eyes slide shut as she held on to Nicole for just a little while longer.
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Nicole whispered.
Fiona’s eyes fluttered open. The sun was fully up now. Nicole had spun to face her inside the sleeping bag and was staring at her with unabashed affection, her hazel eyes gleaming as warm as the earth around them.
“Drifted off waiting for you to wake up,” she mumbled sleepily, drawing Nicole closer.
“Sure, you did,” Nicole said with a smile, leaning in for a kiss. “I need to go check on the fire.”
“Details,” Fiona murmured.
“Important details. I don’t want to have to start from scratch.” She unzipped the suit, letting cool morning air wash over them.
Fiona appreciated the view of Nicole’s body as she climbed out of their bed. Maybe she’d ask Nicole to sit nearby while she meditated this morning so she could use her as a focal point. And maybe she was being a lovesick idiot. She sat up, gathering her wits.
Nicole gasped. “Oh God. Your leg.”
“It feels better,” Fiona responded absentmindedly before she heard the alarm in Nicole’s voice. She looked down and saw the yellowish liquid that streaked her lower leg, running from the wound. Her stomach lurched, and she gagged, looking away.
“Shit.” Nicole crouched beside her.
“It really does feel better,” Fiona said breathlessly, refusing to look again.
“Don’t try to placate me,” Nicole said firmly. “This is serious, Fi.”
“I’m being serious,” she insisted. “Last night, I was placating you. This morning, it doesn’t hurt nearly as much.”
“But…”
“It looks disgusting,” Fiona finished for her. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad. I don’t.” Except now that she was sitting up, she was afraid she did know, and it wasn’t good. Her body felt weak and lethargic, and she ached in places that weren’t bruised or cut. Maybe there was nothing sentimental about her sleeping in with Nicole this morning instead of heading to the beach at sunrise. Maybe the infection had worsened.
Nicole reached over and pressed a hand against her forehead. “You don’t feel warm.”
“I will if you keep touching me.” She batted her lashes, attempting to deflect Nicole’s concern.
“Don’t do that.” Nicole’s eyes were serious, refusing to be distracted. “I’m worried.”
“I know you are.” She looked away, focusing on the sun as it crawled up the sky. “So am I. But there’s nothing we can do about it.”
“I wish I knew what to do. Maybe we ought to take off the bandages and let it drain?”
“Maybe.” Fiona forced herself to take another quick glance, her stomach going sour. “God, I’m such a squeamish baby about these things. You do it.”
Nicole reached down without hesitation and tugged the three bandages off in quick succession. Each tug met a sharp pain that radiated through her leg. Fiona lay back on their bed, head swimming. “Okay, now it hurts.”
“Shit.” Nicole bent down, looking at the wound more closely. “What if that was the wrong thing to do?”
“Second-guessing yourself won’t do either of us any good.”
“No, it won’t.” Nicole sat back up. “It doesn’t smell bad, and I think that must be a good sign.”
“You smelled it?” Fiona asked, horrified.
“Well, I mean…my face was pretty close, and I didn’t smell anything.” She slapped Fiona’s shoulder. “I’m just trying to help.”
“I know. Thank you.” Fiona flung an arm over her eyes, still feeling lightheaded. Her whole leg pulsed with pain.
“It’s draining more now, so we’ll keep an eye on it this morning and see what happens. Maybe you should take it easy today.”
“That’s not really an option, is it?” Fiona collected herself and sat up, carefully keeping her eyes on Nicole.
“Sure it is. I’ll fish while you tend the fire. Everything else can wait. Maybe we’ll get rescued today anyway.”
“I’m not going to sit around while you do all the work—”
“I need you healthy,” Nicole interrupted. “I couldn’t take it if anything happened to you, Fi, and you’ve more than pulled your weight out here, despite being injured. Just let me take the lead today, okay?”
Fiona sagged against the rock, all the fight draining out of her. “Fine.”
NICOLE GRUMBLED under her breath as she wielded the fishing line. Behind her, Fiona sat on her meditation rock, quietly enduring the break Nicole had insisted she take, silver space cape fluttering about her shoulders. She’d sat motionless for what had to be close to an hour now, as Nicole tossed the fishing line over and over with no results.
She was tired and irritable, hungry to the point that she felt like her stomach was going to start digesting itself and sick to death of eating food rations from the lifeboat. Yes, she was grateful they had them, but ugh, they were disgusting.
“I suck at fishing,” she announced finally, stomping her foot in the knee-high water and splashing her makeshift skirt in the process.
“But you look very lovely while you’re trying,” Fiona responded.
“I thought you were meditating.”
“I was, using you as my focal point.”
“Hmph.” Nicole tossed the line again, watching as the hook drifted toward the sandy bottom.
“Sure you don’t want me to give it another go?” Fiona asked.
Nicole reined in her foul mood. She wasn’t doing either of them any favors if she let her temper get the best of her. It was only going to make it harder to keep Fiona from helping out, and probably harder to catch fish too. “I may not be a doctor, but even I know you’re supposed to keep wounds dry while they heal. I shouldn’t have let you fish yesterday either.”
“You also told me salt’s good for wounds, right?” Fiona took her left foot—the good one—and dragged it through the sand, tracing a design with her toes.
“For a rinse,” Nicole said. “Not while you stand around fishing, and not while it’s draining like that.”
Fiona looked away. If the situation hadn’t been worrying her to death, Nicole might have been amused by how grossed out Fiona was about her own wound.
“I was fishing much closer to sunset,” she said finally. “Maybe that’s the difference.”
“Maybe. I haven’t had so much as a nibble.”
“Then we’re wasting time,” Fiona said. “Let’s get something else accomplished and come back to fishing later. We can have a food ration for breakfast instead.”
“Fine.” With a sigh, Nicole reeled in the line and coiled it loosely in her hands. She set it inside the lifeboat and pulled out two food rations, which she carried with her to the rock where Fiona sat. Several uncomfortable thoughts were swirling in her mind, but she wasn’t sure how to broach them.
“Spit it out,” Fiona said with a piqued look.
Nicole ripped open her breakfast. “What?”
“Whatever’s got you looking so bothered.” Fiona unwrapped her food cube and took a bite.
“It’s just, while I was out there fishing, I was thinking about how we’re in this little inlet here that’s kind of enclosed. Maybe it’s hard for passing boats to see us. Maybe it’s hard for us to see them. We don’t have a very wide view of the sea out there.”
“You’re absolutely right,” Fiona said with a nod. “After breakfast, we should move camp down the beach to the ruins like we’d discussed yesterday.”
“But your leg…”
“I can walk just as well as you can,” she said firmly. “If it increases our chances of being rescued, I don’t think we have a choice, do you?”
“I guess not.” Nicole chewed through the rest of her food ration in silence. They’d eaten about a quarter of their supply now and drunk over half their water. Should they s
tart rationing more strictly? At what point did they decide to take their chances and head out in the lifeboat again, hoping to rescue themselves rather than wait for it to come to them? With Fiona’s leg steadily worsening, they might not have much time to decide.
“What should we do about the fire?” Fiona asked when they’d finished eating.
“That spot is about an hour’s walk from here. I don’t think I could keep a burning stick going that long. We might have to start a new one there.”
“I think it’s less than an hour,” Fiona said pensively. “But you’re right, it’s probably not practical to bring this one with us.”
“Maybe we should build it up before we go, though, just in case I can’t get a new fire started.”
They spent the next few minutes planning what to take and what to leave, what was worth coming back for on a second trip and what they could do without. As had become their post-meal custom, they rinsed their mouths in the surf and followed it with a breath mint from Nicole’s purse. The mints would run out in a few days, but they’d have more important problems if they were still out here in a few days than fresh breath for kissing.
Speaking of kissing…
Fiona’s hand tugged at the red fabric knotted at Nicole’s hip, and she turned, her hands automatically gravitating to Fiona’s body, settling into the now-familiar dip of her waist. Their noses bumped as they leaned in, mouths seeking, hungry for the comfort they’d find in the heat of a kiss, freedom from worries and fears, uncertainty over what lay ahead.
They kissed as if their lives depended on it, and maybe theirs did, because with Fiona’s tongue in her mouth, Fiona’s fingers crawling beneath the red sash tied around her hips, she forgot the difficulties they faced. She forgot everything except the way it felt to kiss this amazing woman, to touch her and give her as much pleasure as she’d given Nicole.
She pushed her hand between Fiona’s trim thighs, finding her as wet as Nicole was. As waves lapped at their ankles and the sun blazed overhead, they touched each other, hips rocking together as their mouths met in an endless kiss. She moaned into Fiona’s mouth as she felt herself starting to come. Fiona curled her fingers forward, pressing into that magic spot that sent Nicole right over the edge.
Her hand grew erratic, fingers stroking in and out of Fiona’s body as the orgasm rushed through her, crashing over her like a wave that left her weightless and tingly, as if all the cells in her body had turned to glitter. She steadied her breathing, focusing her attention on Fiona, stroking her until her body tensed and her head fell forward onto Nicole’s shoulder as she came with a muffled cry.
Then Nicole wrapped her arms around her and held her close. Tears pricked her eyes, and she didn’t even know why. She’d found this incredible person who made her feel like no one else ever had before, who made her brave and fearless and even a bit reckless. She felt empowered and strong, more confident than she could ever remember feeling.
But what would happen after they went home?
Fiona lifted her head, her eyes the color of the beach—turquoise waves crashing into the golden sand that ringed her pupils.
“So beautiful,” Nicole whispered, hands clutching Fiona’s hips, not wanting to let her go. Not now, not ever.
“Shush.” Fiona kissed the corner of her mouth.
“We’ll see each other again, right?”
Fiona’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“After we’ve been rescued…once we’re home.”
Fiona looked away, her gaze fixed on some nonexistent entity on the horizon.
“You like your space,” Nicole said, hearing the desperation in her voice but not much caring. “So a long-distance relationship could be perfect, really. I could visit—”
“Stop.” Fiona cut her off. “It wouldn’t work that way, and you know it.”
“I know I can’t walk away,” she said fiercely, foolishly. “I know I can’t say goodbye.”
“You’re going through a divorce. You came on this trip to find yourself, but instead, you found me.” Fiona shook her head. “You still need to do the other part…and you have to do it without me.”
“No.” She swiped at the tears spilling over her lids, but she heard the truth in Fiona’s words, much as she hated it. She did need to find her footing in her post-divorce life, but there had to be a way to do it without saying goodbye.
She was falling for Fiona, and she was worried sick about her health. Everything seemed to be unraveling around them, and Nicole had no idea how to fix it.
“Friends,” Fiona said with a slightly pained smile. “We’ll stay friends.”
“Are you serious?” Nicole drew back, staring at her.
“Yes.”
“That’s bullshit, Fi. Friends?”
Fiona’s jaw clenched, her gaze locked stubbornly on the ocean. “Would you rather we cut ties entirely?”
“I’d rather we not end things at all.”
“I told you that night on the Cyprus Star.” Fiona’s voice had gone hoarse. “I don’t have relationships like this.”
“Just sex, right?” Nicole didn’t even try to keep the accusation out of her tone.
“That’s right.” Fiona stared blankly at the horizon.
“Look me in the goddamn eyes and tell me this is just sex.”
Fiona’s eyes flicked to hers, something unspeakably sad in their blue depths. “It’s not just sex, but don’t make it more than it is either.”
“I’m not making it anything,” Nicole said, swallowing past the pain in her throat. “I just don’t want to decide ahead of time that it has to end when we go home.”
Fiona walked past her, headed toward their campsite. “Fine, then. We’ll talk about it once we’re rescued.”
9
Nicole whooped as she yanked the line, lifting a yellow-striped fish out of the water. It was about damn time, but she’d caught three fish now and had decided to keep going despite her fatigue. She’d catch them a feast to celebrate their successful relocation down the beach.
She turned and carried this one to shore, laying it next to the other two on a flat rock she’d placed there for this purpose. She picked up the fishing knife and inserted it into the fish’s belly, slicing it open. This being her third attempt, she’d gotten better at it, and removed the fish’s guts with some finesse, then brought all the yuck with her back to the water to use as bait.
About ten feet away, Fiona sat on a rock beside their new fire. It had taken most of the day to get here. They’d filled two thermal suits with supplies and carried them down the beach, their progress hampered by the awkward packs they carried.
Fiona hadn’t complained, but Nicole saw her struggling more than usual. She’d gotten quieter as the day wore on, hadn’t protested when Nicole suggested she stay and get their new fire going while Nicole made the return trip to bring a second round of supplies. The area around her wound was even more red and swollen, and it continued to drain down her leg. If it got much worse, they might have to take their chances in the lifeboat, because Fiona needed to get to a hospital, and soon.
Neither of them had mentioned their argument that morning. Fiona seemed determined to avoid the topic, and with her health worsening, Nicole had decided to let it slide until after they were rescued. But once they were safe? Oh, they were definitely having that conversation.
She returned to the water to keep fishing. The beach here was open and wide, allowing them a full one-hundred-and-eighty-degree view of the sea beyond. If anyone was out there looking for them, they should be easier to find here than they had been at their first beach. They’d fashioned a new SOS sign in the sand and hoped the smoke from their fire served as another beacon to their whereabouts.
Behind her, Fiona strung the fish on a stick and carried them to the fire. Soon, the smell of roasting fish filled the air, and Nicole’s stomach rumbled loudly. She reeled in a fourth fish and then a fifth.
“I think you’ve caught enough,” Fiona said as she poked fish
onto a second stick.
“They’re not very big, but yeah, this is probably enough. I’m so hungry, though.”
“This is plenty,” Fiona insisted, indicating that Nicole should sit beside her on the rock. “You haven’t sat down all day. Come and rest a bit.”
It was true. Nicole had been on a mission today: get all the things done. Now that she sat, she felt weary to her bones. It was a good kind of weary, though. She’d actually gotten all the things done, or most of them anyway. They were in much better shape tonight than they had been last night, with the exception of Fiona’s leg.
They hadn’t located a source of fresh water yet, but hopefully, they wouldn’t be here long enough for it to become a problem. She leaned into Fiona, then pressed a hand against her shoulder. “Did you get sunburned today?”
“Maybe a little. Why?”
“Your skin is so hot.”
“Mm,” Fiona said with a shrug. “I’ll have to be better with the sun cape tomorrow.”
“You don’t look red.”
“The sun is getting low.” Fiona leaned forward, adjusting the fish on their makeshift spit.
Nicole touched her thigh, felt the heat radiating off her. “You’re running a fever.”
“Probably just a sunburn like you said.”
Nicole blinked back tears. “Maybe.”
It was a fever, and they both knew it. The infection was getting worse. She wanted to hand Fiona a packet of aspirin. She must feel awful. But maybe it was better to let her body wage this battle without attempting to tame it. Maybe the fever would win against the infection. So she didn’t offer, and Fiona didn’t ask.
She sipped from the water Nicole offered and picked at the fish once they were finished cooking. Nicole demolished three of them and could have eaten more, but she insisted Fiona eat the other two, even though she looked like she would rather have stopped after the first one. Fever or not, she needed to eat to keep up her strength.
After they’d cleaned up their supper and washed off in the surf, Nicole got the flashlight to tend to Fiona’s wound one more time before bed. She dabbed at it with an antiseptic wipe. At this point, she knew it wasn’t doing much—if any—good, but it still felt better than doing nothing. Under the glare of the flashlight, a red line was visible, extending from the edge of the wound about halfway up Fiona’s inner thigh.