by Robin Huber
He smiles and pulls his pants up. “Let’s go swimming.”
I look around, noting that the sun has all but set. The room is dark and only the faintest orange haze clings to the horizon. “You want to go swimming now? It’s dark.”
“So what?”
I shake my head. “I don’t have a bathing suit.”
He looks down at my naked body. “I don’t really think that matters.”
I fight a smile. “What about sharks?” My voice goes up a few octaves.
“I promise I won’t let a shark eat you. Grab your clothes.”
I gather my clothes off the floor and follow him outside, across the weathered deck, and down the sandy path that leads to the lagoon. My eyes adjust quickly to the dark, making it fairly easy to see, even though only a sliver of the moon is visible. I look back at the house and see its sharp outline against the indigo sky. It’s flanked by palm trees that tower over the roofline. They sway and rustle in the warm breeze. I drop my clothes on the sand and watch Kellan shrug out of his pants, raising an eyebrow at the sight of him. He grabs my hand and pulls me toward the water.
“Kellan,” I squeal.
He doesn’t slow down until we’re splashing into the surf, but the ocean feels like warm bath water washing over my naked body. He dives under and swims a short distance before resurfacing. He looks like a Greek god moving through the night sea as he wades over to me again. “Come on.” He takes my hand and pulls me into deeper water.
“Kellan.”
“Makayla,” he teases. He finally stops when he’s standing chest deep in the water, which means I can barely keep my head above the surface. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold onto him tightly as the dark waves churn around us. I secure my legs around his waist for good measure and he wraps his arms around me.
“This is nice,” I admit.
“Mm-hmm.”
After a few quiet seconds I say softly, “I’m really sorry about what happened in Afghanistan, but I’m also really glad you told me.” I reach for his face and kiss him softly. “I hope you know you can tell me anything.”
He nods and says, “So can you.”
“I think you know as much about what happened to me as I do.”
“But if that changes, if you remember...you can tell me.”
“I know,” I say, looking down at the dark water.
He lifts my chin and says sincerely, “It won’t change anything.”
I nod and pray that I never remember...that maybe the darkness has been eradicated by him for good. But I can’t shake the feeling that it’s still there, sleeping somewhere deep inside me, waiting to attack and destroy the peace and comfort I’ve found in him.
Chapter 10
Makayla
“I really think you’re going to love the village, Makayla. The locals are such warm people,” Mia says to me from the backseat of the Jeep, where she’s practically sitting in Jason’s lap. They must be getting along this evening. The status of their relationship changes by the hour.
“What are they like?” I ask.
“Their culture is important to them,” Jason says. “So, they work to maintain it, but many of them speak English. They wear regular clothes, drive trucks, surf. They live off the land and don’t have modern technology like most Costa Ricans, but they live by the same motto. Pura vida.”
“Pura vida?”
“Pure life,” Kellan says, and it makes me smile. It’s the perfect description of life on the island. Simple and pure.
“Will they all be there?” I ask warily.
Kellan glances at me from the driver’s seat. “The ones who want us here will be. Don’t worry, they’re very kind.”
“You’ve met them?”
“Several times. I consider many of them friends here. In fact, they’re more like allies. They’ve been dealing with unwanted visitors on the island for decades and they know we’re here to offer protection should any show up while the research team is here. Between that and the medicine Dr. H provides, most of them are very happy to have us here. So, they throw parties like this from time to time to show their appreciation.” Kellan gives me a reassuring smile and says, “It’s safe. As far as they know, you’re my girlfriend, who I asked to join me on the island.”
The corners of my mouth turn up. “Girlfriend?”
“It was the most plausible thing I could think of.”
“And why did you ask me to come? Just so I have my story straight,” I say, amused.
“Because I missed you terribly.” He crinkles his eyes. “And I wanted to show you this beautiful island.”
“Ah, got it.”
The sun is on the edge of the horizon when Kellan finally turns off the main road and navigates beneath a canopy of trees. I peek through the windshield, but with the fading daylight, I can’t see very far.
“Are we almost there?”
He smiles and nods, and I hear the faint sound of guitars in the distance.
“What is that?” I ask, turning my head to listen.
“We told you, it’s a party,” Mia says.
Kellan stops the Jeep and turns off the engine, and I hear voices singing along with the guitars. I glance back at Mia and Jason, who are both grinning from ear to ear. I’m not sure what to expect, but my heart is beating with anticipation.
Kellan greets me when I jump down out of the Jeep. “Ready to have some fun?”
I bite my lip and nod.
He grins and leads me through an opening in the trees to a clearing with a large bonfire in the center of it. It burns wildly, sending orange embers floating up into the sky. Behind it, several small bungalows are illuminated with strings of paper lanterns.
“Kellan,” a very round man with olive skin calls in a thick accent. He’s wearing worn khaki pants and a white linen shirt that’s buttoned up the front. He greets Kellan with a huge smile on his face. “Hola, mi amigo!” he says, placing his hand on Kellan’s shoulder.
Kellan smiles. “Makayla, this is Gustavo.”
The man smiles at me. “Ah, Makayla,” he says slowly. “Tu eres una hermosa flor.”
I have no idea what he just said, but the words rolled off his tongue like waves on the ocean.
“You are a beautiful flower,” he translates, squeezing Kellan’s shoulder. He reaches for my hand and says, “Call me Gus.”
I smile and shake his thick hand. “Hola, Gus. It’s very nice to meet you.” I just exhausted half of my Spanish vocabulary.
“Welcome to our communidad. I hope you are hungry,” he says, smiling wide.
“I am.”
He leads us to the gathering where everyone is smiling and dancing to the beautiful music. “Todos! This is Makayla. Tonight, she is our special guest,” he shouts.
The crowd whoops and claps, and Adam holds his hand to his mouth and whistles loudly.
A young girl walks up to me holding a floral crown in her hands. It’s decorated with purple and white flowers. She raises it up, so I bend down and let her place it on my head. “Bienvenida,” she says softly.
I smile and say the only other Spanish word I know. “Gracias.”
“Hola, Kellan,” she says, beaming up at him.
“Hola, Nina,” he says sweetly. “Cómo estás esta noche?”
“Estoy feliz de que estés aquí.” She giggles.
“Estoy feliz de también estar aquí.” He winks at her.
I press my lips together over a smile and narrow my curious eyes at him. “You speak Spanish?”
“Si.”
My heart does a quick salsa inside my chest. “What did you say?”
“That I’m happy to be here.” He smiles and my heart sways from side to side.
“When did you learn the language?”
“As a child. Almost all of my foster families in San Antonio spoke Spanish.”
I smile up at him and wonder what else I don’t know about him.
Gus places his arm around the little girl. “Makayla, this is my daugh
ter, Nina,” he says proudly.
“Hola, Nina. It’s nice to meet you.”
Kellan translates for her. “Ella dice mucho gusto en conocerte.”
“Mucho gusto en conocerte,” she says. “Tu eres muy bonita.”
I look at Kellan. “She says it’s nice to meet you. And that you’re very pretty.” The corners of his mouth turn up.
I smile at her. “You’re very pretty too.”
Kellan squats down and touches her face. “Ella dice que eres muy bonita también.”
She drops her head and giggles.
Kellan stands up and looks at me, and I melt into his eyes. “Come on,” he says, “let’s go eat.”
“I hope you’re not a light weight,” Adam says, handing me a bottle of beer. I don’t recognize the label. “They get it from the mainland. It’s Costa Rican. It’s good,” he assures me.
“Thanks.”
He hands Kellan a bottle and we sit around a long wooden table that’s covered in large green banana leaves. The spread is incredible. We dine on lobster, crab, fish, coconut, mangoes and bananas. I try the taro and breadfruit too. The taro root tastes like a coarse sweet potato and the breadfruit tastes like a cross between a potato and a piece of sweet doughy bread. I prefer the fresh coconut and mangoes.
For the main course, a roasted pig is pulled from a stone pit in the ground. It smells heavenly and tastes even better. And there are enough beans and rice to feed an army. We eat until our stomachs are full and everyone is laughing and shouting over one another. The alcohol has kicked in. Mia and Jason get up and start dancing.
“Makayla. You must come. Dance with me,” Gus says, offering his hand.
“O-Oh, okay.” I take it and follow him, feeling slightly buzzed as he pulls me over to the fire. Mia winks at me as he lifts my arms over my head and spins me around. The music is palpable. I step in place to the rhythm and move my hips to the sound of the guitars.
“Bailarína,” Gus says, smiling at me. “You are a dancer.”
“Oh, a very long time ago.” I laugh.
“Beautiful dancing flower,” he says in his thick accent. He raises my arms above my head again and I feel Kellan’s eyes on me. I look up and see him walking toward us.
“Mind if I cut in?” he asks, reaching for my hand.
“She is all yours,” Gus says, and I echo it in my head.
The music slows and Kellan pulls me close and wraps his hand behind my back. He slowly sways me from side to side as the guitars blanket us with a soft acoustic melody that fills my head and wraps around my heart. I lay my head on his chest and gaze at the fire.
“Pura vida,” I say softly.
He repeats the phrase with its intended Spanish inflection.
I look up at him and ask, “How do you say complicated life?”
“Vida complicada.”
I repeat the words with some effort and sigh.
He searches my eyes and asks, “What’s the matter?”
“This isn’t real. This island. You. It can’t be.”
He smiles and wraps his arms around me. “It’s very real. And so am I.” He pulls my face to his and kisses me softly. “And you”—he kisses me again—“are most certainly real.”
I’ll never recover from this. From him.
We can’t stay here forever, but what happens when we leave? I’m too afraid to ask, but the thought of being without him sends a low buzz of panic coursing through me, and the echo of the darkness calls from somewhere deep inside. He’s the drug that’s keeping it at bay. He’s the glue that’s holding my broken pieces together. He saved me, but now he’s the one person who could destroy me.
I’m just about to tell him this when I notice one of the locals standing in the open doorway of one of the bungalows. I can’t make out his face in the dim light, but I’m fairly certain he’s watching us. He raises his hand and a cloud of smoke billows around him. It drifts toward me and the smell of cigarettes fills my nose and my head, conjuring up memories of the masked men in the desert. I close my eyes and press my face to Kellan’s chest, trying to breathe in his scent, hoping it will chase away the chilling images of the painted skull masks, but all I smell is cigarette smoke.
Get rid of the dead girl. But take that one to Quintero.
“Kellan,” I say, gripping his shirt as the black mercury begins to pulse through my veins.
“What is it?” he asks, wrapping his arms around me perceptively.
I glance up again and see the man’s face more clearly now. He stepped off the stoop and is lit by the string lights that hang between the bungalows. He takes another drag from his cigarette and I see that his arms are covered in tattoos, unlike the other locals I’ve met tonight, who didn’t appear to have any visible tattoos. I follow them all the way up his arms, beneath his fitted white tank top, up his neck to his jaw. And then our eyes meet. He grins at me and flicks his cigarette on the ground, and my skin sheens with dewy sweat.
“Makayla, what’s wrong?” Kellan asks.
I look up at him, feeling like my knees might give out. “That man.”
“What man?”
I glance to where he stood just moments ago. “He was standing there...watching us. Watching me. I think.”
Kellan wraps his hand around mine tightly and his face grows serious. “What did he look like?”
“He had tattoos. All the way up both arms. And he was smoking a cigarette.” I swallow down the nauseas feeling from the smoke I still smell and I feel Kellan relax a little.
“Dominik. He’s the only one who has tattoos like that.”
“You know him?”
“I know of him. He’s Gus’s nephew. Most of the locals leave the island when they come of age—it’s sort of a tradition, according to Gus—but they usually come back after a few months. Dominik was gone for years. He only recently came back.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he just wanted to reconnect with his family.”
I nod, but I can still feel the inky black seeping beneath my skin.
“I know he looks tough, but Gus says he’s harmless.” He glances up at a few other locals who are standing nearby, smiling at us. “They’re all watching you,” he points out. He takes a lock of my hair and says, “You have blonde hair. And green eyes. You’re mysterious to them. We all are.”
I nod and wrap my arms around Kellan, still feeling unsettled, but I’m unsure if it’s because of Dominik or if it was the cigarette he was smoking. “Kellan? Can we go home now?”
“Yeah. It’s getting late.”
* * *
I blink as my eyes adjust to the morning light that’s filling Kellan’s room. The mosquito net around his bed waves softly in the breeze that’s blowing gently through the open window. I turn my head and see him lying on his stomach with his arm stretched under his pillow, still asleep. I stare at his handsome face, at his sculpted nose and etched lips, at the straight line of his jaw. His hair hangs over his forehead and I gently push it off his face. His back rises and falls with each steady breath and his tan skin stretches across his toned muscles. I lean down and kiss the back of his shoulder. He moves, but he doesn’t wake up, so I lean over him and trail slow kisses down his spine. He lies still, but goosebumps flash across his skin and the corners of his mouth tip up.
“Hi,” he says, flashing his piercing blue eyes at me.
I smile and kiss his shoulder again. “Hi.”
He rolls onto his back and lifts his arm over my head, cradling me against his warm chest. “How did you sleep?”
I breathe deeply, inhaling his scent, letting it resonate through me. “I slept great, actually. I almost forgot where I was.” And I almost forgot about Dominik—something about him still makes me uneasy, even if he is Gus’s nephew.
Kellan laughs and I feel the deep rumble in his chest. It’s hard to feel worried about anything when I’m lying in his arms, wrapped in the cool sheets beneath the gauzy mosquito net.
I lie sti
ll, lulled by his breathing, listening to his heartbeat under my cheek, until my stomach growls. “I need coffee,” I say, sitting up. I straddle his hips and slap my hands down on his stomach playfully.
“And?” He tugs the ends of my hair.
“Will you go get me some?”
He wrinkles his nose and shakes his head.
“Please?”
He looks up at me, unyielding, so I lean down and put my mouth on his.
“Please?” I ask softly against his lips. I kiss him gently and whisper again, “Please?”
He sits up, taking me with him, and holds my face between his hands. “Under one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You go surfing with me today.”
I laugh. “I don’t know how to surf.”
“It’s not hard. I’ll teach you. Please,” he says softly against my lips, using my own tactics against me.
“Why do you want to go surfing so bad?”
“Because it’s really fun. And I miss it. I haven’t been in a while.”
I consider that. He hasn’t been in several weeks, not since before I showed up.
“Okay, but I don’t have a surfboard.”
“You can borrow Adam’s. We can go back to the lagoon.”
The thought of spending the day at our secret spot makes me smile. “Okay.”
He smiles and kisses me deeply and I kiss him back, no longer interested in coffee. My body has never ached for someone the way it aches for Kellan. I’d gladly never eat or drink again, if I could stay satiated by him.
He lifts my shirt and pulls it off over my head, and rolls over so that I’m lying beneath him. My heart pounds inside my chest and my nipples tighten beneath his warm hands as he softly squeezes my breasts. He drops his mouth to them, taking turns kissing them and softly tugging my nipples between his lips. I close my eyes and arch my back as he navigates my stomach, leaving hot, wet kisses in his wake. He hesitates over my scar, reminding me of its significance, and emotion mixes with the desire coursing through me. His fingers skim my panties and he tugs them down as he kisses me everywhere except the place that yearns for him most.