She had caused him a great deal of trouble. No wonder the man had sought her demise so eagerly. She was a crafty little thing. It was easy to see how her husband had been fooled by her seemingly innocent looks and demeanor. Her angelic face shone purity, a magnet for any unsuspecting man. But Wolf knew better.
He leaned back, tipping his chair against the wall. Closing his eyes, he sighed softly. He may as well rest. She couldn't leave without him. Neither of them was going anywhere for the moment.
Casey once again gazed out over the ocean. The choppy water had turned into violent waves as they battered the sides of the yacht. Casey had already donned a life jacket, as had many others in their apprehension. The wind was howling and the sky had turned an ominous dark. A loud clap of thunder boomed as lightning struck a rapid streak through the horizon. Black clouds were rolling in, surrounding them at a fast rate.
A few of the women were weeping. A great many people were huddling together, voicing concerns, as men aboard the ship raced from end to end, pulling at the sails and shouting out orders in a language Casey did not understand, though their frantic, harried pitch was easier to comprehend.
It was now Casey's turn to console the red-haired woman. The blond man had abandoned her when the weather had turned. Claiming seasickness, he had scurried off to hide below deck. The two women held tightly to one another, clinging almost desperately, as the boat rocked and shook, dipped and shuddered.
Casey screamed, horrified, as a large, dark wave crashed suddenly over the bow of the yacht, washing a small handful of people over the side. More men were racing and screaming out orders as ropes were thrown haphazardly to the flailing victims to no avail. The boat rose high into the air and crashed down, knocking people to their knees, or sending them rolling and spinning.
Casey was pitched forward into the mast and the redhead was suddenly gone. They had been jerked violently from one another's embrace, screaming, each being tossed into a different direction. Casey grabbed at the ropes on deck, trying to keep herself from being thrown overboard into the turbulent water. She crawled and clawed, sliding, making her way to the small steps that would lead down to safety below deck.
Another wave crashed over the yacht, throwing Casey into the railing, hard. Her breath intake was sharp. She fought to remain conscious as a gripping pain seized her right side; she slumped over in agony. The rain now beat down upon her mercilessly and once again she struggled to the steps, crawling, a shaky hand held to her rib cage. Horrified, Casey felt the boat's deck suddenly disappear out from under her feet as the entire yacht was flipped sideways. Vertigo became her nightmare. Screaming, flailing, she entered the water feet first, and sank quickly as a large wave crashed over her head, thrusting her further down towards the endless bottom.
Terrified, Casey became paralyzed. She was suddenly six years old again and sinking to the bottom of the ocean floor, crying out for her mother and father within her thoughts.
Sounds of the ocean were different than above water. They seemed surreal, as though listening with a glass covering your ears. It was almost as if the ocean moved in slow motion, on a different plane of consciousness. Casey opened her eyes wide and watched, fascinated, as a large, shadowed object swam before her. Bubbles of water floated in abundance all around her, images of light filtering in, then out. She remained suspended in time.
Casey felt her hip nudged. She whimpered, trying to ignore the intrusion into her surreal, quiet, calm world. The nudge came again, harder, though not cruelly, releasing her from the nightmares of the past, spurring her to strike out for the surface. Desperately, she reached up with her hands, clawing at the water, now needing to breathe. With great relief, she broke the surface and sucked in noisy amounts of air into her lungs.
“Help me!” she screamed, and choked on a generous amount of ocean water that flew into her face.
Looking around, Casey could see no one; the salt water stinging her eyes mixed with heavy rain, encumbering her vision. Her breath came in heaving gasps. The yacht had vanished. The waves battered at her. Her aloneness engulfed her. Alarmed, she once more felt a gentle nudge at her back. Wary about sharks, she spun about in the water, watching, searching. Distressed, she saw the grey dorsal fin then, as it slowly emerged from the water, rising ominously higher. It was circling her.
“Oh no, please.”
The fin approached slowly and Casey's whimpered pleas increased as she tried to swim away. The water churned around her as her body rose and fell with the huge waves. Her progress was inhibited; her injured side ached from her struggles. She was completely helpless, there was nowhere to seek safety from, and she was trapped in a hunting ground where she was unable to escape the sights of a skilled predator.
As she watched the fin move ever closer, her heart hammered loudly enough to filter the sounds of the storm. It was just her and the large being that now existed. The torment of her wait drew out to agonizing depths. She fixed her eyes on its approach, unable to breathe. The fin was a hairsbreadth away. A nose suddenly broke the surface of the water and Casey cried out with tremendous relief. She was swimming with a large dolphin.
“Please help me,” she cried, and she took a hold of the dolphin's dorsal fin, hanging on tightly. The dolphin seemed to sense her distress and moved off easily amidst the turbulent water, dragging her swiftly.
The sky had darkened almost to pitch blackness. Casey could see nothing in the gloomy, choppy water and wondered where the dolphin was taking her. She was loath to release the mammal. She had remembered, listening to tales of dolphins helping sailors whose ships had gone down. She remained hopeful. She pleaded to the creature to find her dry ground. She knew the dolphin could not understand her words, but she knew it somehow sensed her helplessness and need.
After awhile, Casey's throat became raw from talking. The wind whipped at her face, causing her to gasp for the occasional breath. She grew quiet. An intermittent, encouraging cry from the dolphin jerked her from her fearful thoughts. She continued to whimper softly. She was so terribly tired. Her grip was slipping and she could tell the mammal slowed only to help her maintain her tenacious hold. After sliding once more beneath the water, the dolphin had come up under her, supporting her slight, shaking body onto its own. Her side was pressed against the dorsal fin, keeping her in place while she lay over it.
The water was cold and her body felt numb; her teeth chattered. The life jacket she wore over her small t-shirt did nothing to aid her exposure. Her bare legs were frosty while in shorts and she was unable to kick further. She wondered how long she would last before shock set in. Her tortured mind slowly began to give up hope as her thoughts wandered...
She would miss David. It would be wonderful to see her mother and father again. Had she remembered to water the plants before she left? David wouldn't, he never remembered things like that, silly man couldn't find his socks most days. It was cold. Why was she so cold? She should get out of bed for another blanket. David? David, could you get another blanket? I'm too tired to move, please. She was so tired, when had she slept last? Perhaps she should sleep. A little sleep would help her, she was certain. In a hazy daze, Casey slowly began to close her weary eyes, her leaden arms slipping gradually down her sides.
Startled, Casey felt something under her feet as they dragged against sand. She once more clutched at the dolphin's fin to steady her as she stumbled in surprise. Her numb mind cleared with a fast jerk into reality and, with great relief, she realized it was the ocean floor she was feeling. She shook her head, clearing it of dreamlike thoughts. Reality struck; she could touch the bottom! She was in water and could now touch the bottom!
Stumbling, while still clutching the dolphin for support, Casey made her way to shore. Her body felt frozen and numb with exhaustion. The cobweb thoughts still clung with sticky, confused fear. When waist deep, she felt the animal stop. She pulled at its slippery form, but it held its position steadfast. She realized it could not take her further; she was on her own, and it had
done enough. Casey wrapped her arms around it, giving it a gentle hug. She kissed its nose.
“Thank you,” she whispered with heartfelt emotion. “Thank you for my life.”
The dolphin turned slowly and slipped beneath the water. It disappeared from her view, making her wonder if she had dreamt the entire episode. Nevertheless, she was near shore. She staggered from the water. The rain still beat down upon her. Once Casey felt she was far enough on land, she dropped to her knees and crawled a few feet more. Her weariness engulfed her. She curled into a tight ball and slept.
Casey woke slowly the next morning, feeling disoriented. Her mouth was dry and she was covered in a fine sheen of white, crumbly sand. She pulled her aching body into a sitting position. She removed the life jacket, pulled her shirt up, and noticed the bruising on her poor, paining ribs. The ocean had claimed her sandals and she was barefoot. Thankfully her feet had not been cut on the ocean floor.
She glanced around her surroundings cautiously. The white beach stretched out before her on either side. Huge, boulder-like rocks appeared in the distance, obscuring some of her view. Numerous palm trees and deep green vegetation dotted the area. The blue of the ocean stretched as far as the eye could see until it mixed with the endless horizon. Vast emptiness surrounded her; she shuddered with her absolute aloneness.
Her tummy growled, and it was with relief Casey arose, spying food, and picked up a mushy banana from the ground. She ate slowly, her thoughts centered on hoping the island was inhabited and she would be able to acquire help soon. She needed a doctor. Her hand lifted to rub on her sore ribs and though she felt nothing was broken, it was a nasty bruise. It would be a good idea to have her ribs checked, regardless.
Casey stared into the distance, wondering just which way she should travel, left, right? She was too frightened to enter into the dense bush; it looked dark, foreboding and uninviting. She closed her eyes, and with determination, she chose a direction and struck out. She could not just sit here and do nothing. Perhaps others had landed here as well and required help. Perhaps the tall redhead who had been so kind to her had washed up on shore with her. Even the creepy blond man would be preferable to no one.
Casey walked for quite some time. Her feet ached and burned as the sand warmed under the sun and the heat intensified as the day progressed. She began walking in the water, only treading on the wet sand. Her thirst increased to dramatic proportions until she spied a coconut tree. Looking around the ground, Casey realized she would have to climb the tree in order to get one. It wasn't too high and she was desperate enough to try. Coconut milk was not a favorite of hers, although it was better than nothing, she surmised. Her throat was beyond parched.
She wrapped her slim arms about the tree, and hauling herself up, she slowly made her way to the top, ignoring the hurtful, cruel pain in her side. Her feet slipped and her hands grew sweaty with worry until she developed a rhythm. Her determination prevailed. She was surprised when she actually sat victoriously clutching a coconut in her hands amidst the top of the tree after engaging in a battle to free it.
It had been years since she had last ventured to climb. The last tree she had perched in had been a large, solid oak with wide, beautiful branches, close to the ground. She had been playing a game of hide and seek with some new friends. The exhaustion she now felt was decidedly greater than the last time. Casey breathed in great gasps of air, stilling her erratic heartbeat.
After a quick deduction of her immediate situation, she decided to drop the food to the ground. It would definitely make her descent easier. She would need all of her strength to climb back down again. Her ribs were howling in protest. Her arms poised, she looked for the best place to drop her bounty without opening it, and suddenly gasped in terror. Below her, moving stealthily, was the man, Wolf. He had apparently survived the shipwreck. To Casey's dismay, she realized he had been following her footsteps in the sand. Without hesitating, Casey dropped the large green husk and felt a great deal of satisfaction when Wolf looked up and was suddenly smashed into unconsciousness as he was hit squarely on the forehead.
Casey scrambled to the ground. Breathing heavily, she grabbed the coconut that had rolled away from the large man. She resisted the automatic urge to check his pulse. Casey thought, with dismay, in every single movie she had ever seen, a deviant hand shot up to grab the unwilling victim's hands as they sought a pulse because they were being compassionate. No doubt Wolf would be enraged and very eager to get his hands on her.
Moving off into the more inviting bush, Casey scrambled to safety.
In the jungle he would not see her footprints. He would not be able to track her. She sobbed as she ran. She was on an island with a man who wanted to kill her. A man she had angered; someone more than twice her size. What was she going to do? How could she ever hope to get away?
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Chapter Three
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Wolf rose slowly. His head ached. The woman was no longer amusing him. Wolf lifted his hand to his forehead and, though relieved there was no blood, he felt a nasty bump. She would pay for this, Wolf vowed.
Wolf had taken the initiative and had released himself from the locked room when the weather had turned turbulent. Unable to find a life jacket, he had barely been able to swim away as the yacht flipped, and then quickly sank. He had heard the woman's scream of terror and watched her plunge over the side. Heavy waves engulfed her. She never resurfaced.
Figuring his job was now finished, he was able to pull himself up on a large piece of debris, a wooden mast that had snapped off as the vessel had pitched over. He had risen and fallen with the waves. Hanging tightly to his makeshift raft, he grew increasingly tired as the minutes dragged into what he felt were hours. His body became numb with cold, making it harder to hang on. His throat became dry while licking the salt water from his lips.
Sometime later, feeling tremendous relief, he had spotted the outline of a shore in the far distance and, though reluctant about leaving his floating raft, he had struck out for it. Stumbling, dragging his tired, aching body ashore, he had crawled under beached driftwood and succumbed to sleep.
When morning came, he had walked the lonely shoreline and had come across footprints. He knew they belonged to a woman. The prints were bare, small, and there had been no children aboard the vessel. Looking around, Wolf could see the prints near the water just beginning to disappear. She must have recently turned into the alcove away from his vision.
Wolf hoped it was the voluptuous redhead he had seen with the blond man. Smiling wryly, he wondered if she needed some comfort. It was definitely worth looking into.
Wolf stalked the beach and came across the last of the prints. They suddenly seemed to disappear. Bemused, he had gazed around slowly until it dawned on him, she must have climbed the tree. Upon looking up, he had been so surprised to see his target still living that he failed to notice the coconut's descent before it was too late.
He again berated himself. If he had been stalking a man it would not have taken him so long to check up in the tree. It was a rarity for him to see a woman in a tree; a little girl perhaps. This woman was proving to be more difficult than he'd ever imagined she would be. How on earth had she known he was following her? It was impossible. Shaking his head, he realized the only one to blame for this was himself. He had gotten sloppy. It would not happen again.
Wolf also realized he was not the only one to have gotten sloppy. The woman had allowed him to live. Why, he couldn't fathom. She might not have a weapon, yet he noted the coconut was missing. She could have bludgeoned him to death.
He shuddered with the thought. That wouldn't have been pleasant and it could have taken some time. Undoubtedly it would have proved painful. She would not have been strong enough to snap his neck.
Wolf had no doubt who would prove victorious if they engaged in a physical confrontation. Perhaps the idea of bludgeoning had not appealed to her either; it would have been me
ssy and hard to explain if the authorities had come across his body. She would have been smart enough to bury him though, he speculated, although she would have had to bury him out here in the open. She wasn't big enough to lift him. She would only have been able to roll him over into a shallow hole, risking discovery.
Successfully spying her tracks, Wolf set out after her. He thought briefly that before he killed her, he would ask her why she had left him alive. Perhaps she panicked. More likely, Wolf thought grimly, she only murdered tiny, helpless children with faces of cherubs.
Casey gasped in great amounts of air. She had been running blindly for a great distance. Her sides ached and she had cut one of her toes on a sharp stick. Her toe had bled so badly she had finally ripped off a piece of her shirt to wrap it around her injury, hoping to stop the flow of blood. She knew the man would be able to track blood. She sensed he was tracking her; a wolf stalking its victim mercilessly. Casey shook with the notion.
Rising slowly, Casey nibbled on a few wild figs; the act was more to settle her nerves than nourish her tummy. She needed to find fresh water. The coconut had been difficult to open, and when she used a rock to smash it, a great deal of the precious liquid inside had spilled to the ground.
Moving cautiously, she made a greater effort to gather in her surroundings. She still hoped the island was inhabited and perhaps she had just washed up on shore at the wrong side.
Casey walked amidst the tropical plants, daydreaming about her trip to the Caribbean with David and Abby. Abby had been so delightfully curious about absolutely everything. Even though Casey had been there numerous times, she felt like she was experiencing it again for the first time, thanks to Abby's uninhibited wonder. Her squeal of delight at even the smallest coruscation was appealing, and Casey was caught back up into her own childish wonder.
My Assassin Lover Page 3