Twice a Wish (GODDESS ISLES Book 2)

by Pepper Winters

  But not today.

  Today, the same man who’d appeared this morning at seven a.m. stood beside her.

  His tanned skin and jet-black hair hinted of his Indonesian origins. His intelligent dark eyes promised swift repercussions if I disobeyed, and his body held muscles that looked painstakingly built rather than given at birth.

  Sully might have left, but he hadn’t relinquished control. This new overseer narrowed his eyes with suspicion, looking past me into the villa as if I’d stolen Sully’s prized belongings and frolicked with abandon.

  “Thank you,” I said quietly as the girl dropped off the tray on the driftwood carved sideboard.

  She smiled and bowed a little, darting back onto the sandy path and waiting for the man to signal departure.

  The man continued to stare at me. Holding his hands clasped in front of him, he stood with his legs spread in authority and his lips pressed together in deliberation. Finally, he said, “As you are not serving in Euphoria today, I suggest you remain in your villa and enjoy this fine afternoon.” He bowed his head cordially. “I will be along to check on you this evening. If you require anything, please just ring for service.”

  Another check?

  How many will he do?

  I nodded, clutching the door handle to end this strange meeting. The ease that cloaked the island while Sully ruled had gone, tightening with tension under this new leader’s command. His control felt brittle, as if he clutched the reins too hard and they might snap from his attempts at perfection.

  As one, the man and woman turned to go. My mind whirled. I’d hoped I’d be able to head to the dining room to collect more food and water. Rations for my escape. His suggestion to stay in my villa had been more transparent, strict instruction rather than just a kind proposal.

  “Do you think…” I held up my hand, stopping them. “That I could have some more water delivered? My fridge is low. Also…another bottle of sunscreen? I’m out. Oh, and some fruit would be great—but not sliced or prepared. I don’t mind peeling them.”

  To my ears, I’d confessed to my plans of escape. I rushed with a shaky laugh. “I just like putting the fruit in the fridge and eating it when its cool…that’s all. If it’s already been prepared, it can go a bit brown and soggy.”

  The man eyed me.

  I wanted to hold his stare but instead dropped my gaze to his bare feet covered in golden-silver sand.

  He studied me for far longer than I liked, and worry scattered down my spine. I’d thought leaving would be easy with Sully gone. I hadn’t accounted for his lackey to be so diligent.

  “As you wish. I’ll have some brought directly.”

  I hid my huge exhale of relief. “Thank you.” Before I could hint anymore at my indiscretions, I closed the door and slouched against it.

  Oh, my God.

  My heart winged a thousand flurries a minute, burning off breakfast, making me shake.

  If I was going to do this, I had to be braver. I had to fully commit. To accept the hazards and pitfalls, to admit that it might not work and pain might be waiting on either side.

  Pain of failure—beaten and reprimanded.

  Pain of success—unknown hardship and struggle.

  I’m committed.

  I am.

  Balling my hands, I straightened my back and returned to my small pile. Two sunhats, a long-sleeve blouse, one long skirt, two bikinis, a bottle of sunscreen, four bottles of water already pilfered from the fridge, pastries wrapped up from breakfast, a handful of grapes, and a slim, solar torch from the bedside drawer.

  I had no idea how long I’d be at sea. The sun would beam down from above, burning me, dehydrating me, killing my energy and hope. I had to be smart and give myself the best possible chance of survival.

  I was well aware I could be jumping from a monster’s den into death.

  But…if I didn’t try…what does that make me?

  My plan to leave before the sun rose had quickly evolved to a more intelligent attempt. If I’d jumped in a kayak then and there, without supplies, I wouldn’t have travelled far.

  I didn’t want to be like the girls Sully said who’d attempted escape, only to be found sun-blistered and delirious from drinking saltwater.

  This was my one chance.

  I would not waste it.

  Striding into the walk-in wardrobe where an array of priceless jewelled gowns and expensive island garments waited, I selected a seagrass woven beach bag and carried it back to the bed.

  Surveying my chosen belongings, visualizing what my future held, I began to pack.

  * * * * *

  Time crawled.

  I wanted to leave the moment I’d prepared myself, but I couldn’t leave until the final check. Until darkness had descended and I wouldn’t be seen rowing out to sea.

  Dinner was delivered at seven p.m.

  The man peered suspiciously, ensuring I still resided where I should.

  I ate everything I could without passing out in a food coma and saved the rest that would travel. I had an additional four water bottles, extra sunscreen, and two pairs of sunglasses. Sully had been generous with my wardrobe, and I’d taken everything that would aid my journey. After I’d packed my bag, I’d spent a stupidly long time trying to decide if I took the diamond that’d been paid to me for allowing a man to treat me like some horny cavewoman.

  The stone twinkled in my palm but instead of promising cash if I traded it if I escaped, it only captured facets of that fantasy. A heady, heavy reminder of what I’d done and what I’d become.

  I didn’t want anything to remind me of how far I’d fallen.

  The diamond returned to its dark home in my bedside drawer, and I turned my back on it. On the man who’d paid for my pleasure.

  At eight p.m., the sun had set deep enough that the stars and their crescent moon had taken up residency in the velvet night.

  I dressed in a cheesecloth blouse, longest skirt I had, and floppy straw hat, then slung my heavy bag over my shoulder. If the sun still shone, I could’ve explained my behaviour on wanting to sunbake on a different beach than my own…with a picnic for six and clothing for an entire weekend.

  However, with the lanterns my only form of illumination as I tiptoed down the laneway, my attempt at escape might be foiled before I even stepped foot in the sea.

  Reaching the end of the path, I took refuge in my bush. I waited and watched, ensuring no tipsy goddesses had decided to share wine and gossip on the sand.

  Nothing.

  No one.

  Silence.

  It seemed everyone had been requested to stay in their respective villas because the aura of the island was subdued.

  The palms hung as if in loneliness for Sully’s return. The orchids not as vibrantly purple. Remove Sully from his home and the very ground where he resided mourned.

  Poor Pika.

  Where was that feathered fiend? Was he still sulking in a tree or had he vanished into the centre of the island to drown his sorrows on hibiscus like Sully had suggested?

  When no one appeared after ten minutes, I sucked in a breath.

  It’s now or never.

  Last chance.

  My heart skipped a beat as the tiniest fragment of hesitation filled me.

  My ending on this island had come and I didn’t know why that made me pause. Why a small piece of me would forever remember Sully and his paradisiac utopia.

  Go!

  Stop thinking about him.

  Stop being an idiot!

  Gritting my teeth, I scurried from my bush, flung my bag into the closest kayak, then threw my weight against the jade green fibreglass, shoving the sleek craft toward the tide.

  It hissed over the sand, slipping on its side, making the oar clank against its innards.

  I froze.

  I looked back at the treeline.

  No one appeared.

  I pushed again, coaxing it to ease closer and closer to the shore.

  Come on. Come on!

&n
bsp; With my heart in my mouth, I kept pushing until the back of it went weightless, twisting to sit upright and buoyant as the sea claimed it.

  With warm water lapping at my ankles, I held up my skirt and looked back one final time.

  The treeline remained empty.

  The island seemed poised and pregnant with promise. Trees and foliage watched me leave. Tropical beauty said goodbye.

  Go!

  With a shaky breath, I clambered into the kayak and collected the oar.

  I’d only ever manned a watercraft once before. It’d been five years ago during the summer holidays. We’d gone to a lake, and my friend’s brother had a kayak that he took us around in. He’d promised he’d keep me safe, but in the centre of the huge lake, he’d dived in and swam home, leaving me to row back on my own.

  I’d hated it.

  I’d had no arm strength and blisters covered my palms by the time I docked, shaky and angry, vowing never to use such a torture device again.

  How ironic that this was now my favourite thing.

  The tiny unassuming boat that would sail me to my freedom.

  With one last look, I imprinted Sully’s home to my memory, drank in the sights of majestic palms and stunning moonlit sand, and rowed.

  I turned and rowed, rowed, rowed.

  I rowed until I couldn’t see his island anymore.

  Chapter Eleven

  I LANDED IN LAX.

  I turned on my phone.

  One voice message.

  My heart picked up sticks and began to drum.

  I waited for the line to connect.

  I motherfucking almost got arrested in the arrival hall.

  My phone hurled through the air as I launched it with rage, the message repeating itself as it flew.

  “Mr. Sinclair, sir. Ehh…a goddess is missing. A kayak is unaccounted for. We have launched a search party. We’ll advise when we find her.”

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Fuuuccckkk!

  Chapter Twelve

  TWO THINGS HAPPENED WITHIN an hour of leaving.

  One, my hands burned with pain, ensuring I would no longer have smooth palms by the end of my flee.

  Two, a tiny parrot appeared from the darkness, flying straight to me, perching on my bag strap as if I’d summoned it through psychic will.

  I rested my oar on my lap, eyeing the small bird, recognising the sprigs of black feathers and tangerine cheeks.

  The parrot that’d watched me the past couple of days. The parrot that looked a lot like Pika but had none of his flamboyant, comical personality.

  What was a bird doing up at night?

  Surely, it should be roosting somewhere the moment the sun went down. Why had a flighted creature flown over acres of sea in the dark? Even seagulls were smarter than that, and they could rest on water.

  “Are you lost, little one?” I asked softly, the sound of my voice strange in the water world where I bobbed. The only noise had come from the splashes of my oar and the gentle slap of sea against the bow.

  The parrot blinked, splaying out a wing and preening the sleek under feathers. It fluffed up its body, seeming grateful to have found a perch.

  What a strange little thing.

  What an annoying little passenger.

  I looked over my shoulder to the disappearing distance where Sully’s shores hid. I couldn’t go back and drop it off, who knew if I’d ever have another chance. I looked forward at the vast openness before me, at the faint lights of other islands, calling me, summoning me.

  I wanted to obey and keep going, but I couldn’t row with a bird as my stowaway. I couldn’t take it so far from home. How terrible would that be to displace it? What if it was Pika’s mate or another one of Sully’s pets?

  So? He displaced you. He stole you. Why do you care about a bird?

  My shoulders slouched.

  I cared because I’d always had a bleeding heart when it came to animals. And perhaps because of what’d happened to me and the captivity I’d just run from, I was hyperaware of what it would mean to this little parrot if I continued with it.

  You can’t stay bobbing out here.

  They’ll start searching soon.

  I was stuck.

  Dammit.

  “What am I supposed to do with you, huh?” I took off my hat, not needing it with only starlight painting me in a muted silver glow.

  The parrot cocked its head, blinking with curiosity. I stared back, wasting ten minutes trying to decide what to do when I should’ve been rowing. “Go home. Fly away.” I tried wafting it with my hat, encouraging it to leave.

  It only spread its wings, hovered out of distance until I stopped antagonising it, then swooped back and wrapped its tiny talons around my bag strap again.

  “Ugh.” I clutched my oar, worry skittering down my spine that I had to keep going. I had the favour of darkness for now, but I had to put as many miles between me and Sully’s island before the sun woke up.

  My heart broke but common-sense tried to make me rational. The bird had wings. It’d flown here of its own free will. It could leave again—it wouldn’t be stuck if I continued. It had the means to return.

  Gritting my teeth, I dug the oar into the waves and continued onward. “I’m sorry, but I have to keep going. Have a rest and then fly back to where you came from, okay?”

  The bird chirped quietly, stuck its head under its wing, and went to sleep.

  * * * * *

  Dawn crested far too soon.

  The first island still seemed ages ahead, leaving me vulnerable on the open ocean. As the sky slowly lightened, I dug my oar deeper, wrenching out more power from over depleted muscles.

  I had no choice but to keep going. Keep rowing. Keep trying.

  My back crawled with fear that I was being followed, but I refused to look behind me; refused to entertain the possibility that I wouldn’t make it.

  Sweat rivered under my clothes by the time I entered a rip around the rocky, palm tree crowded land. The sea carried me swiftly toward the splashing, crashing shore. I did my best to navigate around the island without puncturing a hole in the kayak or capsizing, only stopping when I found a tiny inlet with sand and an overhanging of banyan trees.

  The parrot took off, flying into the many palms as I jumped out into knee-deep water and hauled the jade green kayak to shore. Doing my best to camouflage it, I tucked it under some trees.

  Only once I’d scattered a few broken branches and foliage over the top did I grab my bag and crawl through the dense undergrowth.

  It seemed this particular island was uninhabited—or at least, where I’d landed.

  A raucous bird song hinted it was populated by animals other than humans. Peering into the treetops, hidden in dense foliage, and damp with sweat, I spotted the tiny parrot who’d kept me company during the night.

  It sat eating some sort of berry, stripping the outer layer and indulging in the juiciness within. My own stomach growled, prompting a small breakfast from my rations. A sun-warmed orange and a slightly crushed pastry were followed by a few sips of water.

  Packing my picnic away, I didn’t drink what my thirst demanded.

  I would restrict myself carefully. Who knew how long this trip would take.

  Thirsty, achy, and tired, I made a little nest of leaves and lay down.

  At least I didn’t have to worry about hiding from people. I could rest in the shady undergrowth, recover from a night of rowing, and begin again at dusk.

  * * * * *

  I rowed for another night.

  The tiny parrot perched on my bag and watched me dig the oar into the sea, over and over again. I didn’t know why it’d chosen to follow me. I didn’t know if I’d stolen something valuable from Sully unintentionally, but I was glad for its company. I found comfort in its intelligent black gaze as we continued to slice through black sky and even blacker ocean.

  Occasionally, I’d shine my torch over the glossy surface, beaming illumination through the gloom, seei
ng gliding shadows of sea creatures, witnessing luminescent fish as they darted through the light, but most of the time, I rowed in utter darkness.

  I could be going in circles.

  I could be returning to Sully.

  I could be rowing to my demise.

  My back ached from twisting and spearing the oar into the water. My hands, even wrapped with one of my blouses, oozed blood and blisters.

  I ignored it all.

  Freedom was worth the pain.

  By the time the sky lightened on the second day, a larger island beckoned up ahead. A smaller landmass heralded safety to my left, hinting Sully hadn’t been lying when he said he owned forty-four islands in his private archipelago.

  The islands were scattered everywhere. Some close, some far. All of them potential friend or foe.

  Pausing, I studied the left island. The size looked too small to hold habitation. It would be safe to rest without being caught. But the sheer sides offered no mooring for the kayak and I didn’t have the strength to row around the entire thing, searching for a bay, only to find none and have to keep going.

  I needed to be off the open water before the sky pinked any brighter.

  My eyes locked on the larger island ahead. Still a few kilometres away but doable if I summoned the final dregs of my energy. Striking off with renewed determination, the little parrot squawked and flapped its wings.

  Goosebumps ran down my arms as it cocked its head, staring at the pre-dawn sky. It chirped again, this time with a worried question hidden in the avian dialogue.

  I followed its stare, studying the world above me instead of the water around me. Fear appeared and spread through my heart, quick and insidious.

  The sky wasn’t clear like usual.

  Every day since I’d been on Sully’s island, the horizon usually held turquoise blue with the occasional rain cloud. Rain fell at night when the humidity level had filled the clouds to capacity. I’d grown used to the stability of hot days and wet nights.

  But today, the sky was not stable.

  Black-edged clouds gathered in one giant mass. Wind sprung up as if Zeus flicked a switch, whipping the calm sea into choppy whitecaps. A rumble of deep, disturbing thunder echoed in the distance.