§
Early the following morning, Alex woke to the sun poking through the wooden window shutters. She remained in the bottom bunk the rest of the night and turned over to check on Holt. He faced her while sleeping peacefully. At least he’d stopped shivering. Alex gently touched his arm. She suddenly gasped with concern and felt his head.
She pulled her hand away in surprise. “Holt, you’re burning up!”
There was no response. Alex lightly nudged him. He still didn’t wake. She hovered over him and again attempted to wake him.
“Holt, are you okay? Please, wake up,” she pleaded softly with concern. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
An hour later, Alex sat in the lower bed with her knees to her chest and watched Holt, who still didn’t wake or move. She wiped the tears from her face and allowed her head to fall back against the bedpost. Alex knew she needed to do something, but she wasn’t sure what that was. She stared at Holt several minutes longer, sniffed, and leaned over him.
“I’ll be back, I promise,” she whispered.
Alex kissed his excessively hot forehead and jumped from the bed. She hurried to the door and snatched her pole on the way out.
§
Alex hurried through the south woods with her pole firmly grasped in her hands. Monster was heard rustling in the trees not far from her, following her from above. She approached the stream where Damon had stitched her leg over six years earlier and looked around.
“Come on,” she muttered while scanning the area. “Where are you?”
Alex fought her tears, unable to control her emotions. Monster climbed partway down the tree and gurgled, as if sensing her fear. Alex looked at the path to the forbidden woods before her. Her look hardened, and she hurried along the path into the forbidden territory. Alex continued along the path with Monster following from the trees.
She’d traveled a long distance before hearing the unusual sound of metal clanging. Monster hung off a wall of vegetation covering an old, chain-link fence. The twenty-foot tall fence appeared to extend forever. Alex followed the path along the fence to an opening. Monster’s tail thumped against a tree trunk. Alex barely looked around before scaling a nearby tree while clinging to her pole.
“Go to hell, you fucking moron,” a familiar male voice shouted in anger.
Damon appeared from the opening with his machete attached to his hip and his pack over his shoulder. He walked along the path and past Alex’s tree. She was momentarily conflicted by what she should do then took a deep breath and jumped from the tree. She landed softly in a crouched position several feet behind Damon with the pole securely in her hands.
Despite her soft landing, Damon must’ve heard her. He spun around while unsheathing his machete and took a threatening stance. Alex skillfully twirled her pole and took her own fighting stance. She stood statuesque with her eyes locked on Damon. He stared at her with surprise and lowered the machete.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he cried out in a whisper then adamantly shook his head while casting looks around him. “You can’t be here! Go. Before someone sees you!”
Alex remained in her fighting stance with a fixed gaze upon him. Uncontrollable tears streaked her face. Despite years of fear and distrust, she had to risk it. She slowly lowered the pole and straightened.
“Holt won’t wake up. I don’t know what to do,” she informed him in a soft tone. “It might be a brain aneurysm. Please help him.”
They heard male voices near the fence. Damon looked at the fence with alarm then back at Alex. “You need to go,” he growled.
“Not without you.”
Damon stared at her only a moment, ran his fingers through his hair, and then frowned. “I’ll be five minutes behind you. They can’t see you,” he insisted then pointed down the path with hostility. “Now go.”
She heard thumping against the tree, alarming her. Alex moved past Damon without turning her back on him then ran along the path. Damon looked around then hurried after her. As Damon followed her from several feet behind, Alex couldn’t help her feelings of distrust and nervous anxiety being in close proximity to the man she’d been told to avoid.
Alex attempted to keep an eye on him while keeping her distance from him. She’d been taught to distrust him and was told he wasn’t their ally, yet Holt had been trading with him for quite some time. She had to be able to trust him. She had nowhere else to turn. Holt needed help, and she needed Damon.
Chapter Twenty-four
Alex entered the lighthouse and hurried to Holt’s bedside. Holt was in the same position when she left a couple of hours earlier. Alex kneeled by the bed and gently touched his face. He was still burning up with fever. Damon entered the lighthouse a few seconds behind her. Alex straightened and immediately backed away from the bed, keeping her distance from the questionable man. Damon sat on the edge of the bunk and examined Holt’s condition. Alex remained tense for several reasons and watched with concern.
“He has a fever,” he informed her then eyed her. “Did he complain about feeling bad?”
She clung to her pole in one hand and insecurely rubbed her chilled arm with the other. “He complained about being tired all day,” she announced and shivered slightly. “In the middle of the night, he said he was freezing.”
“Are you feeling sick?”
“A little,” she replied while nervously choking on her words. “Why?”
“It would be easy to ingest something toxic,” he informed her.
“No, he knows every plant out there,” she insisted. “He wouldn’t make a mistake.” She felt her entire body tremble with fear. “Will he be okay? Is it a brain aneurysm?”
Damon looked at her with surprise. “What?” he asked then shook his head. “No, it’s probably the flu. Get some cold water from the stream.”
Alex was relieved that Damon didn’t think it was a brain aneurysm, but she remained concerned over Holt’s condition anyway. She grabbed a bucket and hurried from the lighthouse.
§
Damon remained sitting on the edge of the bed nearly half an hour later. Holt had cold cloths on his forehead, under his neck, and under his armpits. Alex watched with nervous anticipation, having set her pole down in order to pace and insecurely rub her shoulders. Damon removed a bottle of pills from his pack and approached her. She took a step back to keep distance between them. He set the bottle on the table.
“Once the fever breaks, he’ll come around,” Damon informed her. “Change the cloths every twenty minutes or so to help keep him cool. When he’s responsive, give him two fever reducers every four hours. Make sure he drinks plenty of water.” He hesitated and seemed to consider his next comment carefully. “I’ll come back tomorrow and check on him.”
Alex’s eyes widened, and she nearly lunged at him. “You’re leaving?”
“He should be fine in a few hours,” Damon insisted then eyed her. “I’d think you’d be grateful to get rid of me.”
“No, please don’t go. If something happens to him--” She hesitated while staring into Damon’s eyes. “He’s all that matters to me.”
Damon set his pack down and groaned. “Great. I’m officially a nursemaid.” He eyed Alex and raised his brows almost demandingly. “I realize you don’t get much company, but it’s customary to offer tea.”
Alex exhaled and managed a tiny, nervous smile. “Yes, of course.”
While Alex prepared tea, Damon took it upon himself to explore the cabin. He looked inside the small pantry near the fire pit and appeared intrigued by what he’d found among the fully stocked shelves.
“Wow, this guy’s a regular Martha Stewart,” Damon remarked. “Homemade soap, candles--” He then opened a glass jar and sniffed it. “What’s this stuff?”
“Boar jerky,” she replied. “Help yourself.”
Damon ate some jerky and groaned his approval. “Damn, that’s good.” He ate a few more pieces then shut the pantry door.
Alex set a cup of tea o
n the table for him and moved away from it. She took her own cup and sat on the edge of the table while keeping her attention on Holt in the bed. Damon picked up his cup and sat on the table several feet away.
“He’s turned this old place into quite the little love nest, hasn’t he?” Damon announced.
She eyed him with confusion then realized what he’d insinuated. “I think you’ve got the wrong idea,” Alex insisted.
“Just the two of you alone for the last six years?” He chuckled in his throat. “I think I have the right idea. No normal, healthy man can live alongside a young, attractive woman as his only company for six years and not have a sexual relationship with her.”
Alex stared at him with surprise as a thousand thoughts raced through her mind. “Would that make him get sick like that?” she suddenly gasped. “Is that why this happened?”
It was Damon’s turn to stare. “You’re kidding, right?” he boldly announced. “If lack of sex caused illness, half the men in the world would suddenly drop dead.” He then considered the comment and smirked. “That is, providing they hadn’t gone blind first.”
She frowned while staring at the look on his face. “You’re mocking me.”
He suddenly chuckled in his throat. “Yes, I’m mocking you, because that’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.” He fell silent a moment while studying her as his look turned serious. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-two last month. Why?”
He snorted a laugh and nodded. “Oh--that explains a lot.”
“What does it explain?”
“Your childlike innocence,” Damon replied then appeared curious. “So he’s never tried to hook-up with you?”
“He doesn’t think of me that way,” she replied and raised her brow with a curious look. “Why is that so hard to believe?”
“Because he’s a man.”
“Well, he’s not that kind of man,” she scoffed, quickly becoming annoyed with him.
“I hate to burst your bubble, but after six years of abstaining, all men are ‘that kind of man’,” he teased. “You just don’t want to admit that Holt has needs like every other man.”
“He would have no reason to keep his needs from me. I would do anything for him, and he knows that,” she informed him sharply. “If he wanted a sexual relationship, we’d be in one. It’s that simple.”
Damon stared at her with surprise then muttered, “Fucker certainly sets the bar high for the rest of us poor bastards.”
Chapter Twenty-five
When evening finally came, Alex again changed the cool compresses on Holt’s body and gently touched his face. He didn’t feel as hot as he had, so the cool cloths were working. She leaned down and kissed his cheek, relieved he was doing better, although she wished he would wake up. The cabin was now dimly lit with several candles placed strategically around the room. Alex looked across the cabin at Damon, who sat in the chair by the fire pit with his feet propped on the nearby bench while watching her with Holt. His interest was puzzling. She wondered what he was thinking. Maybe she didn’t want to know. She wasn’t sure.
“I think his fever is coming down,” she informed him. “He doesn’t feel as hot.”
She approached the table while studying Damon and uncertainly sat on the bench near his feet.
“I’m sorry for keeping you here so late,” she announced timidly while fidgeting. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate what you’ve done.”
“I didn’t do anything,” he replied simply with little concern.
“That’s a matter of opinion,” she remarked then hesitated feeling insecure. “If there’s anything I can do to repay you--”
Damon studied her, appeared tense, and straightened. “Don’t turn all girly on me now,” he remarked wearily. “I’m tired and not thinking straight.”
“You aren’t going to go back to your camp anymore tonight, are you?”
“No,” he replied with a sigh, “but I might go to the beach and get some sleep.”
“Take the upper bunk,” she insisted. “I’m going to stay with Holt anyway.”
He gave her a strange look. “Are you sure?”
Alex stood and nodded now offering a more sincere smile. Damon walked past Alex toward the bunk. For the first time, she didn’t flinch as he passed her. Although it was only a small thing, he seemed to notice she was less tense now. Damon pulled the cover back on the top bunk. Monster lifted his large, black head, looked directly at Damon, and hissed. Damon cried out, jumped backward, and collided with Alex.
Before she could even react or speak, he pulled her halfway across the room with him and reached for his machete on the table. She was possibly more startled by the way he grabbed and held her than his panic-stricken reaction. Alex grabbed his wrist and stopped him from grabbing the weapon.
“It’s okay,” she cried out. “It’s just Monster.”
Damon cast a look at her as if not understanding a word she said then stared at the creature on the top bunk. “What?” he gasped and again attempted to reach his machete.
Alex refused to release his arm and held him back. “He’s my pet,” she cried out. “Don’t hurt him.”
“What?” he again proclaimed and now looked at her with surprise. “Your pet? What the hell--?”
Damon looked at Monster on the top bunk. In the dim lighting, he was barely seen. He gurgled and nestled back into the bunk, although he was obviously watching Damon.
“I didn’t know he was in the bunk, I swear,” she insisted. “He’s harmless.”
Damon looked at Alex with surprise, his eyes meeting hers from only inches away as he held her against him in his attempt to protect her from her pet. When he realized the way he held her body pressed against his, his expression suddenly changed, and he moaned in response.
“Oh, hell--”
He put his hand on her neck and placed his lips against hers, kissing her passionately and aggressively on the mouth. Alex tensed with surprise to his aggressive kiss. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind in those few seconds. Her heart was racing and a strange ache swept through her entire body.
The first and only time she’d been kissed was when Bronson attacked her, but this was nothing like that. She feared she enjoyed it, but that wasn’t possible. She didn’t trust him. She couldn’t enjoy the kiss of some man she didn’t know and didn’t trust. Could she? He broke off the kiss and practically jumped away from her.
“I’m sorry,” he quickly announced while seeming flustered. “I should--” He stumbled over his words while fidgeting. “I need to go.”
Damon hurried from the lighthouse, not even taking time to grab his pack or his machete. Alex watched him bolt from the cabin with surprise. She had no idea what had just happened. He kissed her. Why was he so upset? Once he was out the door, she gently placed her fingers to her lips still feeling his passionate kiss. The phantom sensation was almost as pleasurable as the original kiss had been.
“Wow,” she muttered.
Once she collected herself, Alex returned to the bottom bunk and placed fresh compresses on Holt’s body. He finally woke and looked at her with disorientation.
“Hey,” he muttered.
Alex stared at him with relief and took his hand in hers while attempting to contain her smile. She had her doubts he’d ever wake despite Damon’s conviction.
“How are you feeling?”
“Pretty shitty, thanks for asking,” he replied then made a face. “Why am I wet?”
“You had a high fever,” she replied. “We were trying to bring it down with cool compresses.”
Holt appeared disoriented and was fixated on his damp sheets. “How long was I out?”
“All day,” she informed him then recalled her instructions. “You’re supposed to drink lots of water and take some pills every four hours.”
He was oddly silent a moment while staring at her. “Pills? What happened?” Holt asked as his eyes widened. She could see the color drain from his face. “Wh
at did you do?”
“Nothing.”
Damon entered the lighthouse with a guilty look on his face and immediately fidgeted. “I, uh, forgot--”
Holt saw him, shut his eyes, and groaned almost painfully. “No, Alex, you didn’t.”
Damon approached the bunk and glanced at his recovering patient.
Holt opened his eyes, stared at Damon, and again groaned. He immediately shifted his attention to Alex. “How long has he been here?”
“Since late morning,” Alex replied. “You were unresponsive. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Please tell me you didn’t go to the south side of the island,” Holt gasped.
She stared at him with surprise, not thinking he’d be so opposed considering the situation. “I had to. You needed help.”
“I’d better go,” Damon muttered.
“No, it’s dark out,” Alex announced while looking back at him. “You shouldn’t be wandering around the woods in the dark.”
“Alex, he should go,” Holt informed her.
She glared at Holt where he remained lying in bed. “No, he’s staying. You’re too sick to argue.” Alex stood and looked at Monster in her upper bunk. “Monster, upstairs.”
Monster bared his teeth at her in protest, scaled the wall, and ran along the ceiling to the lighthouse.
Damon stared wide-eyed at the large creature until it was gone, witnessing its full size. “Christ,” he gasped in near shock.
Alex looked back at Damon and indicated the top bunk. “There’s your bunk.”
Damon eyed Holt and smirked slyly. “Never argue with a woman,” he announced then pulled himself onto the upper bunk and made himself comfortable.
Holt managed to sit up within the lower bunk. “Alex, you don’t understand--”
“No, Holt, you don’t understand,” she snapped back surprising him.
Holt attempted to stand despite her protest. Ultimately, she was forced to help him to his feet.
“I’ll put dry sheets on your bed,” she announced and gave him a stern look. “You’d better take some of those pills and drink some water.”
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