“I’m here for you.”
Desmond walked around the house to determine what would be the best way to get her out.
“How did you find me?”
“I followed the two men that took you.”
He examined the screen wires. They were similar to the screens used by residents on the island to keep mosquitoes out while allowing for easterly trade winds to travel throughout their homes, but were still strong enough that she’d never be able to pry through them with her bare hands.
“How is that possible?” She came back. “I heard you. You were in pain. They left you behind.”
Desmond pulled a partially serrated knife from his pocket. “Stand back, Larke. I’m going to cut the wire.”
He waited a few seconds to give her time to comply, then tore into the screen and ignored the way the sharp ends scratched his skin as he tugged sections apart. When he was sure that he’d opened a hole large enough for her to squeeze through, he put his hand through and waved it around.
“Can you see my hand? If you can see it, grab it.”
He waited until he felt the silkiness of her palm.
“Now, I want you to climb through the window.”
As she crept through, pieces of the skirt cover-up she was wearing snagged against the jagged ends of metal that had been left behind. The ends also pierced her skin, but Larke ignored the pain as he pulled her through the window and into his arms.
Desmond placed her gently on her feet, examined her body to make sure that nothing looked out of place, and then turned to go, but Larke didn’t shift. She was standing with her arms wrapped firmly around her midsection, taking in her surroundings. Her mouth twitched as she stared into the treetops, then back into the black abyss of the cut screen. When she finally looked up at him, he saw a flash of vulnerability.
“Are you okay?” He asked, even though he was already certain of the answer.
“How did you find me here?”
“Larke, we have to go.”
“No, Michael.” She stared into his eyes. “Answer me. You got here not much longer after the men did. How could you find me so quickly?”
Desmond sighed. “I tracked you.”
“Tracked me?” Her brows narrowed. “How?”
He reached behind her ear and her eyes widened when she saw him pull back the small black object that resembled a round, flat sticker.
“There’s a Nanochip in here that sends signals to a satellite, much like how a GPS system works. That signal then gets picked up by a device that I have in my truck.”
She took a wary step backwards. “I’m going to take a shot in the dark here. You’re not really the hotel landscaper, are you?”
He paused, then slowly shook his head. “No.”
“Your real name? Is it Michael Pearce?”
“No.”
She continued backwards until she was pressed against the wall of the shanty.
“But I’m not here to hurt you,” he added. “My name is Desmond Harding. I’m a former Navy SEAL and served in that position for several years. Now, I run a private military firm in DC specializing in the protection of key staff in the federal government.”
Larke grasped at her throat. “Key staff? Protection? You knew this was going to happen?”
Desmond peered over his shoulder for any movement in the bushes. “I wasn’t certain that you’d be abducted. My firm was contacted to retrieve you because of tensions rising in the area by a gang that calls themselves the Babylon Roots. Have you ever heard of them?”
She shook her head.
“We have had surveillance on them for a while now since there is speculation that the gang has been smuggling drugs into the US for distribution. However, because of the sharp increase in their numbers in the last few weeks, a decision was made to come down and pull you out.”
Her brows relaxed as his words sunk in. “And what does that mean? That the numbers are increasing?”
“It means that they are mobilizing for a large operation, although we aren’t quite sure what it is yet.”
She examined his face. “So, how long have you been tracking me, then? To take me home?”
“Since the day you landed.”
“But I’ve been here ten days. When were you supposed to pull me out?”
“I had every intention to bring you home that first night,” he explained, “but there was something about how relaxed you looked on the beach that made me feel guilty about cutting your trip short. So, I modified the mission and decided to keep an eye on you instead.”
“By pretending to be a hotel worker?”
“Yes.”
“And pretending that you liked me?”
“…Miss Tapley—”
“Tell me, Desmond, were you going to tell me who you really were before or after we slept together? Was that,” she made a circling motion with her finger, “part of the mission too?”
Her words stung, but she’d had every right to say them.
“No, it wasn’t, and I want to sincerely apologize about that Miss Tapley.”
She eyed him for a few seconds. “Larke.”
“What?”
“Call me Larke. It’s okay.” She released a heavy sigh. “I don’t know what to believe at this point to be honest, but my gut is telling me that you’d do less harm than the two men from before.”
He turned. “Does that mean you’re ready to go?”
“No, there’s one more thing.”
Desmond took another quick glance into the bushes.
“If you hadn’t followed me down to the island,” she began, “would I be dead by now?”
“Honestly?” He asked, already knowing that she wasn’t going to like the answer.
“Yes.”
“It’s likely that you would eventually be killed.”
She cringed.
“These men aren’t exactly known for being merciful, Larke, and we still aren’t sure what they want from you. But, I don’t want you to worry about that right now. I’m here. I did come and trust me, Larke, we will make it out of here. Alive. Can you trust that I’m a man of my word and that I’ll get you home safely?”
He gently placed a hand on her shoulder and she closed her eyes, sucked in a deep breath, then let it out slowly.
“What choice do I really have, anyway?” She resigned.
Squeezing her shoulder, he resisted the urge to lean in and press a quick peck against her temple. Instead, he turned towards the area where he’d parked the truck, but stopped when he heard the sound of an engine roaring up the hill. Grabbing Larke’s hand, they hurried into the trees behind the shanty. A truck stopped at the top of the hill in front of the shanty and the skinny accomplice hopped out with a white, foam carton in his hand.
“Was he supposed to be bringing you something?” Desmond whispered.
“He said something about food. That either he or the other guy would bring some. He called the other guy Gano. Gano referred to him as Tony.”
The man set the food down before prying the door open with the claw edge of a hammer. He disappeared inside only to reappear a few moments later with a panicked look on his face when he realized that the shanty was empty. He fingered the cut screen, then worriedly clasped his hands behind his head before his eyes darted around the wooded area for any signs of life. Spotting no movement, he detached a radio from his belt and held it up to his lips.
“My truck’s parked on the opposite side,” Desmond added. “We won’t be able to get back over to it.”
Larke’s heart sank. “So, what are we going to do now?”
“We have to move forward on foot.”
She glanced down at the five-dollar pink rubber flip-flops on her feet. They weren’t designed for trekking, but at that point, she had no other choice. If they abducted her again, she was certain that they would kill her on the spot this time.
“Come on,” Desmond ordered, turning and making his way deeper into the woods. She followed closely and kept he
r eyes trained on his back, knowing that losing him most likely meant also losing her life.
Only a short amount of time passed before the terrain began to darken. A few spots of light could be seen in windows on the other side of the island as people turned in for the night, and the air held a distinct odor from the remnants of dying embers. Dried leaves underneath their feet crunched loudly with each step that they took, and Larke’s feet ached as the thin rubber from her flip flops offered no protection against sharp stones on the solid ground. Desmond, however, pushed forward like a madman, expertly navigating through the forest as though the trees were marked with street signs.
Low-lying clouds hugged the mountaintops and as the temperature dropped, with a bathing suit and wrap skirt cover-up as her only pieces of clothing, goose bumps scattered across Larke’s skin.
“Desmond,” she called out, stopping to lean against a thick tree trunk. Immediately, he turned around and covered the space between them in a few steps.
“Can we rest a minute? I’m exhausted. Plus these,” she held up her shoe, “haven’t been the easiest to walk in.”
Desmond crouched and examined the shoe. With the way the rubber tugged at the piece in the middle, he knew that they probably had only a few miles left on them, if that.
“You’re not used to the elevation,” he said, mostly to himself. “That’s why you’re so out of breath. How much farther do you think you can go? I’m pretty sure that we can find a cave to camp out in for the night. The island has dozens of them.”
Larke looked at the swollen soles of her feet, unsure how to answer the question. She’d bounced across the city in three and four-inch heels without so much as an ache at the end of the day, and had assumed that her feet had the capacity for many miles before they caved. But with the way they now throbbed, she wasn’t sure that she could take another step much less walk a mile looking for a cave that could possibly not even exist.
“I don’t know,” she replied. “How much longer do you think we’ll have to go?”
She shivered at a cool breeze passing through, and Desmond pulled off his shirt and handed it to her. Larke slipped the fabric over her head and since it was already warmed from being snug against his body, the contact instantly soothed her numbing skin.
“Try to put pressure on it?” he asked, holding out his hand. She grabbed his hand and pulled herself forward, but a burning sensation spread from the balls of her feet to her arch forcing her to lean against the tree to ease the pain.
“That’s pretty bad,” he said mostly to himself again, and helped her take a seat at the base of the tree. Removing a shoe, he examined the sole of her foot. “I think you’re done for the night.”
“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I don’t mean to slow us down.”
“You’re not going to slow us down.” In one swift motion, he scooped her and the shoe up into his arms. “We shouldn’t have much farther to go before we can rest. I’m going to swing you around to my back. Do you think you can hold on?”
She nodded and he swung her around until she was against his back, her arms around his neck and her legs against his waist. As soon as she was in place, she burst out laughing.
“What’s funny?” He asked, continuing on as though he wasn’t carrying an extra passenger.
“My little brother Jay,” Larke began. “As you know, I’m much older than my siblings. Wren wasn’t born until I was ten and Jay came five years later. Up until he was about three, I used to give Jay piggyback rides to the park near our house. Then, I left for college and over time, instead of playing on the jungle-gym with all the other little kids, he developed a crazy love for basketball. So, when he turned fourteen, my parents surprised him by sending him to a basketball summer camp. He left that June around five-foot-nine, only to come back that September a staggering six-foot-four inches. You should’ve seen us at the airport looking around this huge man for our baby brother.”
She leaned onto Desmond’s shoulder.
“When we got home that afternoon, after dinner, he asked me and Wren if we wanted to go to the park. Halfway there, he asked me to jump up on his back to repay me for all the rides that I gave him when we were younger. Being on your back, it reminded me of that.”
Desmond smiled quietly to himself.
“I know your alternate persona ‘Michael’ didn’t have any siblings,” Larke began, “but do you have any? Desmond?”
He shook his head. “That part was true. No brothers or sisters. Had a Rottweiler though. Gizmo.”
Larke smiled. “That’s an unusual name.”
“I named him after a friend.”
“Is it a friend who likes gizmos? Like a techie?”
“Yes.”
And that was the end of the conversation.
They walked about another mile before stumbling upon one of the many caves that the island boasted. When Desmond stopped, they stared into the black entrance, unsure of what would meet them inside.
“Is this it?” Larke asked, easing down onto still tender feet.
“This is it. We’ll have to make a fire first.”
She looked towards the ground. “I agree. I’ll do that while you walk around the site to collect some wood for us keep it burning through the night.”
Desmond burst out laughing and the reaction startled her. She hadn’t expected that much animation from him, especially not in reaction to something that she’d said. However, she found that she liked seeing him light up like that. The change was refreshing and it helped to put her more at ease with him.
“You can build a fire?” He asked.
Larke knitted her brows. Did he really think that she grew up in the suburbs? Her family’s farm bordered acres of woods. Before her siblings were born, she was the one who had to be up at daybreak to collect eggs, milk cows, and shred hay for the horses. She’d camped out with her father on one of his numerous bird-watching trips with a fire as their only source of light, and they’d even encountered a mountain lion and bear tracks right in their very own backyard. Just because she’d been living in the city for the past fourteen years didn’t mean that those experiences had disappeared.
She hobbled around the site to look for a pair of solid, dry sticks. After having trouble finding two good pieces, she turned around to find Desmond standing with a makeshift torch in his hand and putting a lighter back into his pocket. Folding her arms, she tried the most defensive look that she could muster, but a smile still peeked from the corner of her mouth.
“I always carry a lighter,” he said nonchalantly, hiding a smile as well. He jerked his head to motion her over and again, hoisted her onto his back.
Walking into the black entrance, they moved over a series of rocks before finding a dirt path that hugged the side of the cave. The flames from the torch cast dancing shadows along the wall, and the cavern grew even more ominous with each step they took. Larke tightened her grip on Desmond and tried to force away images of bats swooping down from the ceiling to feast on her ripe, young flesh. Although National Geographic claimed that bats ate fruit, insects, and small animals, she didn’t want to be the first person to prove that observation wrong.
“You’re thinking about bats, aren’t you?” He asked as if reading her thoughts.
“How did you know?”
“A hunch.”
“That’s quite the hunch.”
Suddenly, he stopped and lifted his nose to the air. “Larke, do you smell that?”
“If you’re talking about that distinctive cave smell…”
“No, not that. Do you smell it? Wet earth. Like after it rains.”
Larke lifted her nose and picked up on what he was referring to. “Water?”
He nodded. “Let’s go.”
As they continued to walk, she heard a low, constant rumble somewhere up ahead. Desmond increased his stride, his long legs covering large squares of the path with each step. As they neared, the rumble grew even louder, its growl reverberating off the stone walls of t
he cave. When they rounded the back corner, Larke let out a small gasp.
A waterfall whose stream seemed to come from the heavens billowed into a waiting body of freshwater where rocks jutted up like stepping stones. Lush vegetation decorated the serrated border of the lagoon, and down the river expanse, a path continued as though they’d walked directly through the wall of the mountain. In the middle of the water was the rippling reflection of the moon which illuminated the entire alcove.
“This is amazing,” Larke exhaled.
Desmond gently set her onto her feet and tested the water with his fingers. “And warm. We’ll be able to set up here. You sleep and I’ll stay up to keep watch.”
Larke reexamined their surroundings. “What about you? Don’t you need to rest? We can take shifts.”
He silently stared at her for a moment, his unblinking eyes flickering even darker in the light from the fire. She was offering to stay up to keep watch over him despite everything that she’d been through that day, and while he certainly didn’t need anyone protecting him, the gesture had stirred him to his core.
“I don’t need to sleep,” he told her, walking out into the clearing. “We’ll stay here until sunrise, then make our way down to the harbor.”
Larke took a seat on a section of grass while Desmond surveyed the clearing for any imminent signs of danger. She watched as he meticulously overturned rocks, retested the water, and fingered tall blades of grass. When he was seemingly finished, he remained standing several feet away from her as if, all of a sudden, nearness made him uncomfortable.
“Desmond,” she called, patting the space next to her. “Have a seat with me.”
He hesitated, but realized that the look in her eyes meant that the issue wasn’t up for discussion. Scanning the area one final time, he took a seat in the space next to her. Larke sighed and drew her knees up to her chest.
“I never got a chance to say thank you. Without you, I probably would be dead by now,” she said.
Desmond nonchalantly shrugged. “It’s my job.”
She placed her chin atop her knees. “I guess it’s because I didn’t trust who you said you were. I’m not sure if I still do, but you’d be going through an awful lot of trouble for someone that you’re just going to end up killing later.”
In Love and Rescue: When love is the perfect rescue... Page 2