by L. B. Dunbar
I thought I heard my name, a shriek in the wind, but when I turned to Colton for confirmation he heard it, his expression hinted at nothing, and I dismissed the sound as the screech of a returning seagull. I felt for the small knife in my cargo short pocket and pulled it out. J M, I etched into the soft trunk of the tree and then added my initials under them. J.M. + T.C. She ruled over me. It was juvenile and crush-worthy, but it signified I’d been there. And so had she.
31
Day 69 – Juliet
“Juliet,” Lillian exhaled like a relieved mother. She pulled me to her and kissed my cheek. Pressing me back almost as quickly, she assessed my body, and I worried she could see the pleasure he’d given me.
“What happened to your head?” Her tone shifted, a soft shriek added to her concern. Nimble fingers touched over the scab.
“Oh, I was hit by a tree going up the mountain.”
“You went up the mountain in that storm?” she questioned, looking past me. She’d found me a little distance from the tree house and I was eager to return to my things. My notes were safely tucked into my satchel but I had other valuables I wanted to check on. And then, I wanted to find Tack.
“There is a cave on higher ground, and we went there.”
“We?” Lillian didn’t even blink at the word. Her eyes widened, and her fingers dug into my arms.
“Yes. Lillian, I have so much to tell you,” I chattered, attempting to step around her. A false smile formed on her face and her mouth twitched. “There’s this—”
“You can tell me all about it on the boat,” she said, interrupting me as she slipped her arm through mine and led me away from the island home.
“What?” I questioned, walking a few feet with her before tugging on her arm to stop us. “What boat?”
“Juliet, we haven’t much time. You just lived through a hurricane, but another one is coming. We’ve come to bring you home.”
“Home,” I mouthed, the word nothing more than a whisper. I blinked back the sudden tears. I didn’t have a home. I didn’t want to leave. I had nowhere to go. I wanted Tack. “But I didn’t finish my time. The experiment. It isn’t complete.” I straightened, prepared to stand my ground and refuse to leave.
“The experiment is over. We cannot risk your life. We’ll take the information you have, and you can complete the restoration in another manner on the mainland.”
“But I…I can’t leave Tack.”
“Tack,” she whispered, looking away from me for a moment. The false smile was back. “Why don’t you tell me all about this Tack on the boat?” She reached for my arm, but I pulled back.
“No, I can’t go without him. He was just behind me.” I motioned over my shoulder, spinning in the direction to follow him. Lillian reached for me, gripping my wrist in a hold stronger than I could have imagined from her frame.
“As it appears, he’s left you,” she implied by looking around me, her head tilting from one side of my body to the other. “Perhaps you could explain him. On the boat.” Her voice deepened as she spoke through her teeth.
“He…he didn’t leave me. We…” My voice faded. A shaky hand came to my head. This was the very reason I hadn’t mentioned him before, I told myself. Lillian wouldn’t have understood. Plus, it would have ruined the experiment. Self-reflection. Isolated surroundings. Finding forgiveness. The last idea gave me pause. I didn’t think I could forgive if I hadn’t actually gotten to know Tack, learn who he was, who he is.
“Juliet, we are leaving for the boat. Now.” Her tone broke my thoughts. Through clenched teeth, she smiled falsely once again. Her free hand balled into a fist. “It’s either come with us or die. We won’t be back.” Her words startled me, the intention definite. Lillian wasn’t giving me a choice. But how could I leave Tack behind?
“Let me show you where he is,” I offered, but she snapped her fingers. Suddenly, I was hitched into the air over the shoulder of Franco. I hadn’t heard him approach in the brush.
“Lillian,” I begged, hoping my plea would stop her brisk stomp to the cove. My head riddled with confusion. Why was she doing this? Where was Tack? What was happening? “Lillian, please.” She ignored me as I jostled over Franco’s shoulder.
“Tack!” I screamed, slowly beating on Franco’s large back to no avail.
Tack, I whispered in my head. We hadn’t passed the tree house. Instead, we traveled a short distance in the opposite direction before my feet were returned to the ground. All my thoughts told me to run to Tack as they hit the dock, but my feet took me forward as Lillian waited at the end. My legs felt thick like the tree trunks and I struggled with each step away from my familiar space on the island. I bit my lip, annoyed with myself for letting the reality of Tack escape. The heaviness of my body slowed me down and I suddenly felt sluggish like I hadn’t slept in days.
“Look, we can pass the beach. It will prove no one is there.”
Lightened by her words, the weight slowly slipped away as I followed behind her. The skiff I arrived in had been upgraded to an ocean-worthy speedboat. The size alone proved Lillian’s fear of another hurricane. When the engine roared to life, it confirmed we were racing the weather.
We pulled out to the main water faster than I expected and veered left away from Tack’s beach. A thought occurred to me.
“I never said the beach,” I yelled over the roar of the motor, staring at Lillian as the boat shifted in the opposite direction of where I hoped we were headed.
“What?” she shouted in return.
“The beach. I never said he was at the beach.” My eyes narrowed. “Why would you suggest we pass it unless you knew he was there?” I paused. “Did you know he’d be on the island?”
32
The Island Tastes Your Loss
Juliet Montmore had nothing. While it had all been stripped away in one fateful night, it had been restored by another. He had given her everything for the briefest of moments. And then he was gone.
She stared at the departing island, knowing high above the shore there was a cave, and a storm, and a man. While she once thought this island meant freedom, she now felt more confined than ever—and betrayed. But she had no one to blame. She’d committed a crime after an act done to her. She’d put herself in the position to go to the island.
Experiment, she thought. She allowed herself to be part of the scientific process, and she felt played when she swore she’d never be taken advantage of again. She closed her eyes to the bite of the ocean spray, the salty air mixing with the struggling tears
Repent. The word drifted through her head. Without him, she wouldn’t have been on this island. Without him, she wouldn’t have found herself again. She offered forgiveness in exchange for love. She’d given him all of her. He took what he intended before they knew one another and then she gave it to him willingly. Because he asked. He wanted permission and she agreed—love him and be free.
You make me wild, he said, when all she wanted was to be cared for, cared about. She wanted to be claimed.
Restore, the liaison had said, but she’d never felt so broken. The further they sped from the island, the heavier her heart weighed in her chest. While she promised not to look back, she couldn’t look away. She didn’t want regrets. She wanted Tack. But she sensed he wasn’t coming back, and he wasn’t following her.
Her nose ran, and she reached for her satchel. Blindly, she stuck her hand in the bag and pulled out something unexpected. She pulled the book to her chest and turned back toward the island.
You are going to cry, the little prince said, or something like that, she recalled as her thumb stroked the back of the book. The little prince wondered how taming the fox had been for any good if the fox was going to cry when they departed. Slowly, she smiled with the thought. She knew their time on the island would come to an end at some point. It was sooner than expected, but she had gotten what she came for.
Through the tears, she smiled. Being tamed by him had done her all the good.
+
+
Terence Jackson Corbin IV understood right from wrong. He’d been doing wrong his whole life until he finally got it right. And then she got away. While he thought he wanted reckless and meaningless and bad, he’d learned that good and meaningful and fearless had been better. He’d been afraid, that’s what he learned—afraid to love. Mainly because he didn’t know how. Everything in his life had come easily to him, but love had not.
He might have lost his chance, had he not come to the island, and as the salty air whipped at his face and the sorrow filled his lungs, he realized the island had been what he was missing in life. And now, he was missing her. She’d disappeared.
He thought of her as she stood in that pond, staring up at him, vulnerable, frightened, but determined to stand her ground. A mouse. His mouse. He’d learned from the animal like Garvey had encouraged. He’d given to her what he wanted in return. He cared for her, cared about her—he loved her. And she was gone.
He stood with his knees pressed to the board at the stern of the boat. His hands in his pockets, he glanced down at his arm. There, resting on his left wrist, was the only evidence that she existed. He pulled his hand from the pocket and with his other hand he tugged at the bracelet. His frustration built, and he recognized the anger under his skin. How could she leave him? he thought as he struggled to remove the leaf-made jewelry. He planned to throw it in the ocean like some damn movie. Take back your gift, he cursed, but his eyes rose to the island, shaped like the curve of a woman jutting up from the water.
How had he not seen it before? She was the island. She was his island, and he knew he could not exist until he found her again. While his time on the land might be over, his redemption was not complete. He had her forgiveness. He had her love. But he needed her to make his circle complete.
One year, they had said, but an expiration could not be placed on what he discovered. With each mile he sped away from the island, the old Tack slowly returned. Powerful. Determined. Cunning. That’s what he’d learned from her. He would have her.
I will find you, she’d said as parting words to him.
Don’t worry, Mouse, he thought. I will be looking for you.
The story continues –
October 13
Return to the Island
Thank you
This story came on like a storm. For one solid month, I wrote, averaging anywhere from 6,000-10,000 words a day. Any author will tell you that’s insane, and that’s how this story felt. It consumed me. The idea of redemption, forgiveness, and love was so strong, it crept through my bones. I lived for these characters. And I hope you are living for them now as well.
Huge thank you to Shannon for another amazing cover and the patience of a saint as I went back and forth in my decision. Thank you again and again to my editor, Kiezha, for additional words of wisdom. Extra hugs to Molly McLain (USA Today Bestselling author of Can’t Shake You) for your additional eyes, your inspiring words, and your tender support. More love to Karen for her eagle eyes at proofreading and Lisa for another set. Much love and laughs to my reader group, Loving L.B., for hanging out day in and day out.
Extra love always to my family. Thankfully, this was written in the summertime and MD, MK, JR and A were all at work while I wrote my days away. This meant dinner was only late a few times. More hugs to Mr. Dunbar, who lets me do my thing.
Again, I hope you’ve enjoyed Tack and Juliet’s story. Tune in for more, and in the meantime, keep in touch…
Connect with L.B. Dunbar
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Other Works by L.B. Dunbar
The Sensations Collection
Small town, sweet and sexy stories of family and love.
Sound Advice
Taste Test
Fragrance Free
Touch Screen
Sight Words
The Legendary Rock Star Series
Rock star mayhem in the tradition of King Arthur.
A classic tale with a modern twist of romance and suspense.
The Legend of Arturo King
The Story of Lansing Lotte
The Quest of Perkins Vale
The Truth of Tristan Lyons
The Trials of Guinevere DeGrance
Paradise Stories
MMA chaos of biblical proportion between two brothers and
the fight for love.
Paradise Tempted: The Beginning
Paradise Fought: Abel
Paradise Found: Cain
Stand Alones
The Sex Education of M.E.
The History in Us
About the Author
Avid drinker of Coca-Cola, L.B. Dunbar loves the sweet things in life. Her affair with all things fairy tale began with her first book at the tender age of six: Goldilocks and the Three Bears. One can never forget her first! From there, the reading journey includes a deep love of fairy tales, medieval knights, Regency debauchery, and alpha males. She loves a deep belly laugh and a strong hug. Occasionally, she has the energy of a Jack Russell terrier. Accused, yes, that’s the correct word, of having an over active imagination; to her benefit, such an imagination works well. Author of over a dozen novels, she’s created sweet, small town worlds; rock star mayhem; MMA chaos; and sexy rom-com for the over 40. Her other duties in life include mother to four children and wife to the one and only.
Table of Contents
Other Books by L.B. Dunbar
Inspiration
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Connect with the Author
About the Author