“Don’t look into the flame,” he told me, and I looked away, starting to make the O.
When I ran out of supplies, I stood to get more, and I noticed the bright flames had gone out and there was now a deep rust-colored smoke funneling up into the sky, being caught up in the wind.
“It’s too windy!” I worried.
He shook his head. “Smoke flares are designed to be seen from miles away and in the windiest conditions. Maybe it will attract that plane back.”
It was certainly better than nothing. I rushed forward to get some more supplies, but he grabbed my arm. “Stay away from the plane.”
The look in his eyes worried me, but I could only deal with one thing at a time so I nodded and then rushed around for more rocks and fallen branches. When I came back, Nash buried the end of the smoke flare in the sand (in the center of the letter O), keeping it upright as smoke poured into the sky.
“That’s going to attract their attention,” I said, implying the pirates.
“They already know we’re here,” he said grimly.
He didn’t say anything else as we finished the S.O.S signal, and my mind raced wildly, wondering what he meant. At the same time, I listened to the plane, praying it would turn back.
Please see the smoke.
The signal was done and the smoke was still gliding up above the ocean when Nash grabbed my hand and pulled me along with him toward the hammock.
“What’s going on?” I asked, trying to hold in my freak-out and wondering how long it would last.
“They know we’re here.”
“The pirates?” I whispered.
He nodded.
“How?”
“I don’t know, but they were in the plane. They searched it. They trashed it.”
If my body wasn’t producing adrenaline before, it definitely was now. “They must have seen us yesterday.”
“Yeah. It was damn good luck we spent the night in that hammock or we would have been there.” He actually shuddered, like the thought of that was absolutely repulsive.
“How many do you think there are?”
“Way more than us.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Stay out of sight,” he said as we walked up to the hammock. “Stay on the move. Pray that someone sees that smoke.”
When we reached the hammock swaying gently in the breeze, he turned his back to me, reaching beneath the sand, and picked something up. A memory of him pulling something out of his pants last night and putting it there drifted through my head.
I wasn’t curious what it was then.
I sure as hell was now.
“What’s that?” I asked.
He turned and showed me.
It was a gun. A black pistol.
My mouth went dry. My voice was hoarse when I spoke. “What happens if they find us, Nash?”
“We hope to God I have enough bullets.”
19
I was beginning to think the universe had it out for us. I mean, really. First we nosedive from the sky, land on a deserted island, get stranded, and now there was an angry hoard of murdering pirates sulking around this island, searching for us.
This was officially the worst vacation ever.
Only it wasn’t a vacation… It had started out as a tribute to my grandmother.
I gasped and stopped walking, digging my feet into the sand. Nash swung around, his wide eyes searching everything in the immediate space around me. “What is it?”
“Kiki!”
His mouth flattened in a grim line.
“I’m going back for her.”
“No.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Your grandmother would not want you to risk your life for her.”
“What would you do?” I asked quietly, leaning into him. “If that was your grandmother? If it was someone you loved?”
I saw the defeat in his eyes almost instantly. “Don’t even try to stop me from doing what you would absolutely do.”
I marched away, back toward the plane and the smoke-filled sky.
“Ava,” he said, rushing to my side and pulling me close. “Stay at my side.”
“Do you think I’m so defenseless?” I asked, irritated. I mean, yeah, I wasn’t going to be running any marathons (okay, fine, not even around the block) anytime soon, but I was far from helpless.
“Of course not.”
“Look, I love that you’re so protective. I actually really love it, even though it annoys the crap out of me sometimes, but you can’t protect me from everything.”
“I know. But this, this I have to protect you from.”
“What this?” I asked, trying to see through the smoke toward the plane.
“What do you think a group of known thieves and killers—a group of men—who live on an island with no law would do to a blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty like you?”
A vision of those chains and the dark crimson stain on the rocks flashed before me. A vision of being locked in that tiny, gross shack assaulted me.
I can’t even describe how terrified his words made me.
“I’m not trying to control you, bella,” Nash said gently, stroking a hand down my arm. “There’s only one of me and many of them. I will fight to the death for you, but when I die, so does your protection.”
A sob caught in my throat.
I was so overwhelmed with emotion, I stopped walking. Thick smoke wrapped around us, likely concealing us and this little stretch of beach where we stood. He said he would die for me. The thought of him dying literally made me feel like I had ice in my veins.
I threw my arms around him and buried my face in his neck. “Please don’t die.”
“Ahh, bella, I don’t have plans on doing that anytime soon.”
I pulled back just inches so I could stare into his beautiful face. A face that songs were written about. “I would rather take whatever those pirates did to me than let you die trying to keep me safe. I would not trade my life for yours. Never.”
He kissed me. It was a hard kiss, the kind tinged with desperation and smoke. His arms tightened so much that I thought my ribs might crack, but I didn’t say anything because I was holding him just as hard.
He tore his mouth away and heaved a breath. “We have to go. They’re going to come back when they see that smoke. If we want to get Kiki, we have to move.”
I nodded.
He took my hand and together we ran the rest of the distance to the plane. This time I kept up. It was easier to run faster when you were running for your life. And for the life of someone else.
We rushed along the side of the plane, ducking low (who knows why) and creeping around to the back end. Nash kept his body in front of mine at all times and peered into the plane before escorting me inside.
What once was a makeshift “cozy” home was now a complete disaster. The poor plane had not only seen a crash, but now a crowd of vile criminals and was down for the count. All the windows were bashed out, including what was left of the windshield. All the controls in the cockpit were smashed and destroyed. My suitcase was overturned. Shampoo was poured on the floor; my clothes were ripped and scattered about. All the fruit was squished; the newly smashed food drew flies like a pile of manure. The chairs were slashed, and all the water was dumped out.
I blinked, trying not to focus on the mess, but concentrate on the reason we were here. Kiki. My grandmother’s ashes were the most important thing I had here. I couldn’t lose them.
We searched.
We searched everywhere.
I started to cry. Big, fat silent tears that I couldn’t stop but didn’t want Nash to see.
I was still searching frantically, still pawing through the mess, when I felt his hand rest on my shoulder. I knew what that hand meant. I knew exactly.
“No,” I groaned. “No.”
“It’s not here, bella,” he said gently.
“Who would do that? Who would steal what was left of someone’s body?” I cried.<
br />
“Monsters,” he said, pulling me up and hooking an arm around my waist. “We gotta go. We’ve been here too long.”
There wasn’t anything else I could do but let him lead me away. I knew I would never see this plane again. Maybe because we would make it home. Maybe because we wouldn’t. I really didn’t know.
But I did know the chances of us dying here were bigger than the chances of us leaving.
We hopped out of the plane, and he wrapped his arm around me again. “Let’s stay in the trees. They offer more coverage.”
We walked to where the mangos grew. Nash loaded some in his cargo pockets and I carried a few in my hands. I wished I wasn’t wearing this stupid dress. I needed pockets. Instead, I held up the hem like a basket and dropped in the fruit.
I could have sworn I caught Nash looking at my legs. But surely he wasn’t looking at something like that at a time like this.
Well, okay, he was a guy.
Once we gathered all we could carry, he glanced up toward the sky. “We need to find some sort of shelter or a place to hide. It’s going to get dark and they will have an advantage.”
“How?”
“Because they know this island. A lot better than we do. They’ll probably still search, even in the night.”
“Where will we go?” I frowned, searching my mind for a place we might have seen where we could hide.
“I have an idea,” he said, taking my hand and leading me back the way we came. We circled around a few times. We passed the same flowers several times. I knew we weren’t lost. He was making sure we weren’t being followed, that no one was watching.
Finally, we came close to the lagoon. Nash picked up a couple rocks and threw them one at a time into the water, each one of them making a distinct plopping sound.
After that, we stood, for what felt like days, and waited. We waited and we watched, nerves stirring inside me that someone was there, that the noise he made would draw out some dirty scoundrel with dreadlocks.
No one came. There were no sounds but the birds and wildlife. None of it ever paused or drew quiet. I took that as a positive sign. Surely, the wildlife would cease to make noise if danger were around.
Right?
Or was that just in movies?
When I got home, I was not only taking up running, but I was going to learn about survival—aka: how not to die.
“C’mon,” he said, leading us out of the protection of the foliage and over to the water. He pressed his finger to his lips and then slipped into the water quietly. He motioned for me to follow so I did, holding close the little bunch of mangos.
We moved slowly. It was hard to tread with only one arm, but I did it because losing our only food was not an option. The entire time we swam, I kept a constant watch on the edges of the water. Every sound, every echo in the air caused my heart to pound and my body to tighten.
If someone showed up now… we would be sitting ducks.
Nash did the same thing, swimming quietly with one arm, holding the pistol and the flare gun up out of the water.
Finally, we reached the waterfall and he went around to the very edge and slipped around it, hunching over the guns to keep them as dry as he could. I waited cautiously on the other side until I heard his whisper that all was safe.
I swam to the rock where Nash was already sitting. He reached into the water and yanked me up, draping my exhausted body over the slippery wet surface.
I dumped the fruit toward the back and stifled a cough, leaning up against the back of the little cove. Nash squeezed in beside me, placing the guns as far from the water as he could.
“Did they get wet?”
“Only a little. I think they’ll still work.”
“This is a good place to hide.”
“It keeps our backs safe. Now we only have to watch one direction, and the water makes a good shield and it will muffle any sounds we make.”
“Now what?” I asked him.
He handed me a mango. “We eat. We sleep and we wait for morning.”
“And then?”
“And then we hope the plane comes back. If it doesn’t, we’re going to have to figure out something else.”
“Like what?”
“Maybe we can make one of those boats work.”
“Maybe we could sneak onto the pirates’ boat and take that one.”
“Maybe,” he echoed.
We ate in silence. My body was starved, but I wasn’t hungry at all. Night fell, and inside the little cove seemed darker than any place I’d ever been. There was no light here at all because the moon and the stars had no way of getting in. I could barely see two feet in front of me except for the movement of the water, which sometimes looked a little silver in the dark.
With the darkness came the cold.
We were inside a dark, damp place that the sun never touched, so it never held any heat. The cold seemed to seep into my skin and go straight for my bones.
I tucked my hands between my thighs, squeezing them tightly together, and tried to keep them from shaking.
Nash reached for me in the dark, pulling me between his legs, pulling his in, tucking them around me. Then he wrapped his arms around my chest, literally wrapping himself around my body. He was warmer and the warmth made me moan a little.
He rested his chin on my shoulder and we sat there together just breathing.
My eyes began to grow heavy and every now and then, I would catch myself nodding off to sleep and I would jerk awake, trying not to give in to my body’s needs.
“Go to sleep, bella,” he murmured. “I’ll keep watch for a while.”
“You can’t stay awake all night.”
“Once I’m sure it’s safe, I’ll go to sleep too.”
“Don’t let go,” I whispered.
His grip tightened.
20
It was still dark when I woke up. I wasn’t sure what caused me to wake, but judging from the fact that my butt was completely asleep and felt like it was being stabbed by a thousand tiny needles, I figured it was because I sat too long in the same position. I was still sitting with Nash, but he was sprawled backward, leaning up against the rock, and one of his legs was under mine and we were sort of tangled up in each other.
But not in a sexual way.
In a your body will make you pay for this later way.
I slowly eased away from Nash and stood, stretching out my arms and back and trying not to grit my teeth against the sting in my rump.
My clothes were still damp and it wasn’t too comfortable, and my hair felt like a tangled mess. A day at the spa sounded like heaven right then.
Maybe if I closed my eyes and pretended I was there…
“Ava? Are you back there?”
My eyes popped open. Was someone talking? I glanced around at Nash. He was still sleeping. His position was horrible. His butt was going to be sore tomorrow.
“Ava?”
“Duke?” I whispered. I looked through the waterfall, but all I could see was darkness. I was afraid to call out, afraid that it wasn’t actually him.
What if my ears were playing tricks on me? What if it was the pirates? What if they were trying to lure me into giving away our position?
I stood there and listened for a long time. I thought about waking up Nash, but I couldn’t do it. He had to be exhausted. I knew he was worried about being here… about me being vulnerable. He needed the sleep. So did I.
Who knew what tomorrow would bring?
I moved back over to sit down once more when I heard another sound. It sounded like a low moan or a cry of pain. I moved to the side, trying to see around the water. I caught a little bit of movement near the shore.
I grabbed the gun off the ground and held it up to my chest, knowing I would use it if I had too but knowing I would be a terrible shot. It would be a waste of good bullets.
I sucked in a deep, nervous breath. “Duke?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
“What are you doing?”<
br />
“I’m hurt… I need a place to hide. I need help.”
Concern for his well-being had me stepping forward, but I stopped. “How’d you get hurt?”
“They found me…” His voice trailed away. “I got away…”
He fell silent. I waited for him to speak again. He didn’t.
“Duke?”
“Can I come over there?” he asked, his voice low and strained.
“Of course.” I certainly wouldn’t deny him help. After all, he had helped us.
I heard a light splash and the sound of him moving through the water. He swam close enough that I could make out the shape of him just on the other side of the fall. When I thought he would come through, he didn’t.
He stopped moving.
He seemed to bob in the water, sinking low and then reappearing.
“Duke?”
“Tired,” he said and went under again.
How injured was he? Was he so hurt that he was going to drown tying to get to safety? I slipped into the water, swimming toward the falls where I could just make out his shape.
“Grab my hand,” I told him, reaching through the chilly curtain of water, extending my fingers to him.
“Thank you,” he murmured, and I felt him grasp me. I went to pull him in, but he was too heavy. His hand started to slip away.
He grasped me at the last second and I breathed a sigh of relief. He tugged, trying to get a better grip. More of my body slipped beneath the water.
“Swim closer,” I told him, struggling to keep afloat.
All of a sudden, his hold on me turned forceful. The bones in my fingers screamed for relief. I opened my mouth to call out, to tell him he was hurting me, but I was yanked through the water, rewarded with a mouth and nose full.
I tried to pull away.
He wouldn’t let go.
He yanked me right up against him… and then he shoved me under.
Water enveloped me like a thick, dark blanket. It pulled me in the wrong direction, and I tried to push up… but he was holding me down.
He was trying to drown me.
I wasn’t going to drown.
I hadn’t survived everything just to let someone kill me in a split second just feet from Nash. If I died while he was sleeping, he would never forgive himself.
Tempt (Take It Off) Page 14