by Evie Adams
Her defiance, her toughness, I had to respect her.
She wanted to ask me about my family back there, but she held her tongue. There were rumors that she had been trying to gain control of her own family. Her refusing to marry or align with any of her father's men meant she wanted control of it.
It was insane that a family could have a woman in control, though not completely unprecedented. Most women didn't have what it took. This one though, she could be better than most.
Even cooled off, my body wanted her, and my mind wanted her too.
I remembered our struggle in the water. How she resisted, how I had to undress her top and the look in her eyes when she said she would rather drown.
She meant it.
Her chest crashing against my back, the warmth of her breath on my neck, the feeling of how she thought about using her hands and the bikini to strangle me as I rescued her. I could feel the tension in her wrists and that was one of the reasons I swam so hard. I wasn't sure the sense in her could stop her from doing that for too long, even if it meant both our deaths.
It would never work in my world. The men in my family were still too stupid and racist to ever think about that.
She's not for me. I told myself again.
Family first.
It was getting near dusk when Jack returned with the boat.
“Can't we stay here the night?” Nina asked. “I'd love to have a night on firm ground. I'm getting used to the rocking, but I'd kill to sleep on firm ground.” Her face lit up at the idea, pleading with me.
“You may have to. We're going, this place isn't safe. We were lucky today, but I don't think it'll hold at night.”
“Then just a few more hours? Dinner here, a little fire, then we go back?” she begged.
Against my instincts, I agreed. It was hard to say no to the little things when she got so happy about them.
She celebrated the victory. A small one but an important one for her. She started the fire and cooked. Meat for her and fish for me and Jack. She worked happily. I think she forgot for a few moments that she was a prisoner. I think I forgot too.
It was lovely here. The fire lit our faces and warmed us. We talked and ate around the fire.
“Should I throw these bones in the woods?” she asked and picked up a plate.
That's when I saw the glowing eyes in back of her.
“Get in the boat Nina,” I yelled at her in my most restrained voice.
She looked at me, surprised, almost hurt, then the defiance flashed on her face. She was about to say something challenging, something smart and cutting that would put me in my place, but she had the plate of bones in her hand still and I saw the cat's eyes wiggle before it pounced.
I jumped across her as the animal leapt, forcing my forearm in its mouth before it struck her.
70 pounds, maybe 80, was all that went through my mind as I put my weight on top of it, but the teeth weren't the most dangerous part of it.
The claws on its feet and paws were like razors, and I tried to keep them away from me. The animal instinctively wanted to hold onto me with its teeth while it kicked its legs towards me.
My instinct was to place my body on top of it, stop it from squirming and maybe get my hands around its neck, but I knew it could squirm better than I could contain it. And if he ever got under me and got his legs and claws out kicking they would rip me to shreds.
The arm he had in his mouth was useless, and the pain shot through it all the way down in me. My other hand tried to keep the animal as far from me as possible while it bit and chewed on me.
That was just its distraction to get me with its claws.
There was a knife somewhere, and the pistol too, but all I could do was use my hands to keep the animal away and hope it stopped biting so I could get at the knife or gun.
It twisted and squirmed and kicked its legs in every direction while its paws sunk into my other hand. It wasn't a fair fight, me with two hands and it with four.
I tried to pull it over near the fire, to see if fire could do more for me than my wrists, but moving this torqueing ball of muscle was dangerous. I slid it in the sand, and ignored the pain. I pushed its body as far away from me as I could and inched towards the fire.
Jack didn't move. Nina however was quick, I saw she had the gun and it was pointed at me.
She knows how to handle a gun, was my first thought. The safety was off and she held it with two hands as she sighted down the barrel and down her fully extended arms. She closed one eye to aim and loosened her elbows for the recoil.
The instinct was to cover myself, but this ball of muscle and fur wouldn't let me.
The barrel flashed and the animal stopped its assault. I pried my arm from its mouth and looked over at Nina. She still had the gun trained on me.
But then pain started. The adrenaline fell away like the tide and all of a sudden my arm was on fire, my chest soaked. I couldn't see the damage in the dark but I felt warm sticky blood flowing out of me, soaking my shirt. I hadn't kept the cat completely away from my soft underbelly.
What a shit way to die.
Bleeding to death and a bullet from my prisoner.
“Don't waste the bullet, I'll probably bleed out,” I told her before all of the lights went out for me.
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CHAPTER 6 - NINA
Good advice.
I thought for a moment how easy it would be to squeeze the trigger one more time, maybe twice for Jack, the white haired man. But Luca had saved me. He risked his life to jump on the animal. Maybe he was merely saving his prisoner but the look in his eyes, the sound of his voice just before he leapt, there was something more there. A possessiveness, an angry helplessness, and a fear not for himself.
I kept the gun in my hand but knelt beside him, his eyes turned back into his skull and he passed out.
I dragged him closer to the fire and tore open his shirt to get a better look.
I told Jack to get the first aid kit from the boat, he jumped in the water, the first thing he had done since it all started.
With Luca's shirt open, I could see the damage. Most of it didn't look deep except the one on his side. That was the one I was worried about. There wasn't much we could do about internal bleeding but as long as there wasn't too much, the body could take care of it, clean itself out. I hoped.
I grabbed the backpack and found flares. They looked like sticks of dynamite but you unscrewed the top and used that to light the bottom. I lit off about six of them and threw them between me and Luca and the forest. I didn't want anything else surprising us.
I heard Jack jump from the boat and in a flash he was back with the aid kit. Its appearance didn't inspire confidence. Rusty and dusty and grimy.
“Make the fire bigger,” I told him and he started throwing the bits of driftwood we had gathered on it and now I had just enough light with the camp fire and the reddish glow from the flares.
“Freshwater,” I commanded Jack. I had a tourniquet on Luca's arm, the bleeding there stopped, but the holes from the animal's teeth were still gaping and open.
His torso was still the biggest danger. Jack spoke up, “The antibiotics are good, those I change out,” he showed his palms, scarred up from fishing line. It didn't do much for scars apparently, but his hands didn't look they had ever had a serious infection either. I had no choice anyways.
I rubbed the antibiotic around his wounds. “Sutures? Stitches?” I asked Jack, he looked at me and shook his white capped head.
“Fishing line,” he suggested.
“That could work.”
Again he waded to the boat and came back. He had a great big needle, one for stitching bait bags and dead fish, not for live people. But he also had a smaller one, a fish hook without the barb at the end. “Close enough to a needle,” I told him as thanks.
I worked on Luca's stomach and stitched up the nastiest wounds. I wished I was better a
t sewing, I half thought a talent for that should be something innate in every woman but if it was, it skipped me. The stitches ended up straight but not without a lot of unnecessary punctures. I had to go over the same areas sometimes three or four times. But this wasn't a dress, it did the thing it was supposed to do, closed up the gaping wounds so they wouldn't become infected. The plastic filament of the fishing line would never be as good as normal stitches, but they would have to do. And Luca would have to be careful with them. They wouldn't rip out like regular stitches, they would rip through him and create new wounds.
The flares were almost gone now and no more animals had come. The adrenaline in me ebbed and drained out of me. I relaxed for a moment and took a deep breath.
I noticed that Luca's eyes were open. He had been watching me, silently, for who knows how long. He didn't make a sound when I sewed the stitches, not even when I had to go over the same spot. I hadn't even considered him. I was focused on the work, on this piece of meat that needed to be sewn shut.
His face wanted to twist in pain but he held it calm and still, the sweat beading on his face and neck. “Rum?” he asked.
I laughed at him, “That's not a very good idea. You lost a lot of blood.”
“Morphine then.” He said and almost smiled through the pain.
“None of that either.”
“Whiskey we have.”
Jack had a bottle with him that he had thrown down next to me, it shined amber and gold in the light of the campfire. I assumed it was to wash the wounds but with the antibiotics it wasn't necessary. I gave Luca a little taste, holding the bottle to his lips as he tried to gulp but even in his pain I wasn't going to give him enough to gulp. Just a taste.
I took the bottle back and took a big swig for myself. I needed it almost as much as he did, my nerves were shot, but we weren't done yet.
“Can we bring you on board?” I asked him.
“Another drink first,” he said between clenched jaws. I gave him another small one and his eyes cursed me but he wouldn't shame me into giving him a blood thinner while he was possibly bleeding to death inside.
Jack and I hauled him through the water and kept him and his bandages mostly dry. Luca helped pull himself up with his one good arm while we supported his weight to get on deck.
I laid him down on the deck because he wasn't going to get any further without our help. I opened his bandages again, to wash them out. Sea water had too many things in it for me not to worry. He bit down and grated his teeth when the whiskey hit his wounds but he didn't cry out.
“What a waste,” he said as it flowed over his stomach and chest and arm. “That's not how I wanted to enjoy it,” he joked through his clenched teeth.
We brought him down to the captain’s bed, my bed for the last few days and nights, but he needed it more than I did now. He was quiet all the while, in great pain, but silent throughout.
He stared at me and said nothing. His face stony but roiling with pain underneath. There was anger too in his face and I figured it had a dozen different causes. From Jack not reacting, to me saving him and of course the constant pain. But it seemed like there was even more to it than that. I couldn’t read him.
“What?” I asked.
He stared and remained quiet, choking back the pain until he finally opened his mouth, “Why didn't you go on the boat like I told you?”
“If I had, you would either still be wrestling with the Bobcat or dead,” I told him. What a stupid question.
“I guess I'm lucky that you're a good shot,” he said and asked for the whiskey again, I gave him a sip, smaller than he wanted, but larger than I felt good about.
“Or maybe you're lucky I'm a bad shot.” I told him and took another swig of the whiskey myself.
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CHAPTER 7 - LUCA
I woke up in pain. I only figured it out when I tried to move. When I tried to stretch the stitches in my side stabbed me like knives. I winced in pain but didn't make a sound. I realized that Nina was huddled against me. Her head floated inches from mine, her hand rested on my chest near the stitches of fishing line she had sewn into me. Her lips slightly parted only a crane of the neck away from mine. So close I could taste them if I dared.
She looked angelic now and I remembered her face last night when she had the gun in her hand, her eyes sighted down the barrel pointed at my heart. She had me dead to rights and she looked frightening and beautiful as she held my life in her hands.
Then the image of her face when I woke up flashed before me. As she was stitching me her face was full of concern, full of focus, full of concentration towards stitching up whatever life was still in me, trying her best to contain it and not let it spill out.
Maybe it was the massive loss of blood but I wanted her. I wanted her lips and her face and all the rest of her too. I can't do that, my brain told me. She wasn't for me. I sat up and my body told me I couldn't do it either. I wasn't sure if I had enough blood left but then my pants began to stretch. Still, I wouldn't be able to unless we found a way where I didn't have to move. But then where was the fun in that? I delicately held her wrist, then placed her hand down in the warm spot I had left.
She breathed lighter, shallower, but didn't wake. Her body moved over and settled in the warm spot I had just left and breathed in deeply, with a little smile breaking her lips. Or did I imagine that?
She was on the verge of waking up, I was sure of it. I traced a finger along her back, my last chance to touch her before my mind and my body and Nina told me I couldn't do anything.
The thoughts in my head were all indecent as I looked at her and she woke up. Her eyes opened and she looked straight at me and must have seen the indecent thoughts in my face, she backed away, startled and awake.
I sat back and smiled warmly at her and strangled those thoughts.
I sat back to try to give her some room and winced again at the pain in my sides, the stitches clawing at me. She moved close to me and her fingers found the stitches. Her nimble fingertips electric on my skin.
Her face dressed itself in concern again, “You really have to go easy with these. It looks like they're still holding but if you move too quickly they'll tear your skin. Fishing line is not as forgiving as cloth stitches.”
She looked up at me and must have seen the indecent thoughts in my face again. She moved away and let me go, breaking the electric circuit between us.
“Thank you for your concern,” I told her and slapped her ass for no good reason and stood up before she could curse me out for it.
I went upstairs into the fresh air and immediately felt better.
Jack started up the boat and we were underway again. I took a seat beside him.
“Feel better?” He asked.
“Better than what? The Bobcat?”
He smiled, “I'm sorry about not being ready. I'm better on my boat than on land. But that's lucky for you she moved faster than I did. Good shot too.”
“Or maybe she's a bad shot and missed me and hit the cat.” I told him, remembering her words.
“No, she was aiming for the cat, that I'm sure about.”
I tried to change the subject. “So did you get everything set up when you got supplies?” I asked him.
“The car is all set. But are you sure you can drive 24 hours in your condition?”
“No, but I'll have to won't I?”
“Could stay on the boat. A leisurely cruise to let you heal up.”
“I don't think Elio would want to wait for the month it would take us to get there in this heap.”
“Let him wait. He could use some patience. Besides I know you'd like to spend some more time with her. There's more islands and more supplies we'll need. And I'll get you some catnip maybe.”
“How the hell does a cat get out on one of those islands anyways?” I asked him.
“I don't know but I bet it's a pretty good story. They've been known to drag sha
rks out of shallow water. Maybe this one was after big sharks. Some idiots try to raise them as pets too. And when they get too big, they're not the kind of thing you can drop off at the animal shelter.”
“How long before we reach the car?” I asked him.
“An hour, maybe more. What do you think Elio is going to do with her?” he asked me. Trying to persuade me stay on board with him but that was already decided.
“I have no idea what his plans for her are. I imagine he'll use her as leverage or ransom to get better prices from her father. That's as far as he wants to go. As far as I would go. Nothing more.”
He scanned the horizon, an old habit of his to look away from you when he wanted you to listen to him, “That's probably not all he'll do. A good-looking girl like her.”
“I don't think he would do that.” I said.
“We'll see. I'm not sure he has enough self-control. Now if you were calling the shots, I wouldn't be so worried about where she was going.”
“You should keep that to yourself. The boss does what the boss does, we do what we do right?”
“That sounds like something I've said before.” He smiled and looked ahead. “But you shouldn't listen to an old fool like me anyways.”
“More foolish with every year.”
“The boat helps. But remember bosses can be changed. Especially bad ones.”
“Keep those thoughts to yourself. They're dangerous even in good company. He's the leader of the family, like it or not we deal with that. He's still learning and I'm trying to teach him as best I can.”
“Not sure it does any good, Luca. He was rotten from the start, that doesn't get better most of the time.”
“He only turned rotten after the accident, he was fine before.”
“No he wasn't and you know it. You only remember it that way because you want to blame yourself. He was a rotten kid, then he got hurt, and when he got better he was still rotten. More rotten.”
“Enough of this. You just shut up and drive the boat.” I told him and went below deck again to see how Nina was doing.