by G. R. Lyons
Ryley whirled around and saw the boat pulling away.
“Hey!” he shouted, treading water and waving an arm. “Hey!”
But the sailor couldn't hear him, disappearing into the distance.
Holy shit. Ryley was alone, out in the middle of the ocean. Now he really had to make it to land. It was either that or drown.
It's fine. Everything's fine. You've totally got this.
Inhale, one.
Blowing out a breath, Ryley turned and kept swimming.
It seemed to take ages, and every time he thought he was finally making progress, he had to stop and catch his breath again. Finally, when he thought he couldn't possibly swim any farther, he touched bottom, still way out from the beach. Ryley turned onto his back and floated for a while, then stood again and shuffled forward, pulling with his arms and trying to walk at the same time until the waves only came up as far as his thighs.
He sank to his knees, bracing himself as he gasped for air. Once he nearly caught his breath, he crawled forward, pulling himself up the beach, then all the way up to the treeline so he could collapse in the shade.
Holy gods, what the hells have I done?
He took a deep breath and let it out heavily. It's fine. It's gonna be fine. The guy will come back, or Vic will come find me. Everything's fine.
Ryley lay there for a long while, his whole body shaking with exhaustion. When he felt himself starting to drift off, he forced his body up instead, knowing he was going to need some sort of fresh water very soon, if any could be found.
He didn't have to go far before he found half a coconut shell lying on the ground with water pooled inside.
Ryley frowned. That was weird. That couldn't have been natural, could it? He had no clue. He was hardly an outdoorsman. Ryley glanced around, but there was no sign of anyone. He bent down and scooped up the coconut shell, bringing it to his nose. He sniffed it, then tilted it every which way, trying to see if the water was clean. Not that he had much choice. He took a sip, groaned with delight, and gulped down the rest.
He lowered his arms and looked around. Right ahead of him was a bunch of bananas, just lying there on the ground. Alright, seriously, what the hells? This was just too strange.
Maybe the island was haunted, after all. Maybe the ghosts were luring him in.
Ryley snorted a laugh and yanked a banana off the bunch, tearing it open and stuffing it into his mouth. Not his favorite food in the world, but at the moment, it was better than nothing.
Feeling slightly restored, Ryley looked around again. Now what? Where could he start, and what would he look for? Gods, he wished Vic could be there with him. Vic was the tracker. He would know what to do.
Short of any better ideas, Ryley started walking.
All he could see in any direction were trees, rocks, and lush undergrowth. He had no idea what to specifically look for, other than the obvious—the skeletal remains of a human child—though he certainly hoped that wouldn't be what he found. He tried to stick near the tree line, wanting to be ready in case the sailor returned, but there was only so much he could see from there. Turning his back on the ocean, Ryley made his way deeper into the island.
He walked slowly, picking his way through the undergrowth, trying to see if anything looked unusual or out of place. The coconut shell had certainly been odd. As had the bunch of bananas, all just lying there in perfect shape, as though they'd been set down rather than fallen. Or maybe he was just imagining things, his hopes turning what he saw into something more than it seemed.
Ryley glanced back over his shoulder. He couldn't hear the waves anymore, and no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't see the water, either. Ryley looked up and all around, hoping he could remember his surroundings well enough to find his way back without too much trouble. Otherwise, he might find himself frantically stumbling about just trying to get out of there.
But he still found nothing. Haunted. Right. Ryley shook his head. There was nothing remotely ghoulish about the island. It was nothing more than your typical, average spot of land rising out of the ocean, just like any other one might read about or see in a film. Trees. Flowers. Rocks. Water. Various creatures. Everything looked perfectly normal.
Until he walked right into the point of a spear.
Chapter 9
RYLEY FROZE, putting his hands up, staring down at the jagged shard of…something…strapped to the end of a length of wood. The tip of it just touched his chest, right over his heart.
Holy shit. Alright. Shit. Yeah. Alright. Just…breathe, Ry. You're not gonna die. You're not gonna die. Inhale, one. That's it. You're not gonna die.
He waited, not even blinking, and watched as a figure slowly rose from the undergrowth, hands firmly wrapped around the spear, holding it steady, the tip never wavering from where it touched Ryley's skin. The figure grew and grew until it resolved into a man, towering over Ryley and glaring down at him. The ragged beard and unkempt hair filled Ryley's vision. His eyes went wide as he stared up at the savage man who held Ryley's life in his hands.
Shit. Vic. Why didn't I call Vic? Fuck. I don't wanna die. Oh, gods, please, I don't wanna die.
The island wasn't haunted. It was just inhabited by savages. Primitives. Gods only knew what kind of practices these people had.
Then the man blinked, gasped, dropped his spear, and hauled Ryley forward.
“Ooof,” Ryley groaned as those arms nearly squeezed the life out of him. He struggled, trying to break free.
But the man just held him tighter.
Wait a minute. The guy was holding him? What the hells?
The savage man choked on a sob, his arms tightening even more.
Ryley slowly reached up and patted the guy awkwardly on the back. “Um…”
The guy pulled back just enough that Ryley could see his face, and let go with one hand, moving it up to lightly touch Ryley's jaw.
“You're real,” the guy said, his voice cracking like it hadn't been used in years.
“Uh, yep. Pretty sure I'm real.”
The man sobbed again and pulled Ryley back against him, almost smothering him in an embrace.
“Alright there, big guy,” Ryley said, gingerly hugging him back. He was completely out of his depths here. Where was Vic when he needed him? Vic would know what to do.
The hug went on and on, long after the guy quit sobbing. If that wasn't awkward enough, Ryley felt the man's cock go hard, nudging against his own when the man shifted. That was when Ryley finally registered that the guy was completely naked.
And if the body he felt in his arms was anything to go by, he wasn't nearly as old as Ryley had originally suspected just by his face alone.
Ryley shifted his feet, trying to relieve his aching legs. The guy gave a start and pulled back, finally putting some distance between them.
“Sorry,” he gasped, holding out his hands, his eyes suddenly wild and worried as he looked from Ryley to his own cock and back. “I'm so sorry.”
Ryley looked down. He couldn't help it. The guy was pointing it out, after all. Then he almost choked at the sight of what was on display. If Ryley could have described the perfect dick, it would most definitely be the one right in front of him, the one that had just been rubbing against his own. Perfect size, perfect shape, perfect coloring. Ryley was pretty sure he would never see a dick as ideal as this one ever again.
Holy shit. His exhaustion and worry melted away as temptation charged through him.
“I'm sorry, can I just…” Ryley held up a finger. “Would– I need to–” He ran his hands back through his hair. “If you wouldn't mind– Oh, fuck it.”
He dropped to his knees and took that perfect cock into his mouth.
The guy gave a shout of surprise. Ryley looked up and saw the guy staring down at him, his eyes wide and his lips parted.
Shit. Ry, you are gonna get your ass beat.
But he couldn't stop.
Then the guy moaned. Ryley looked up again and saw the guy's eyes roll ba
ck before they closed. The guy sucked in a breath and looked down again, watching everything Ryley did.
And Ryley was loving every minute of it. Gods, that thing felt so damned good on his tongue. Despite his savage appearance, the guy smelled remarkably clean. A good, natural scent. And he tasted even better. Ryley couldn't get enough of it.
When the guy came, he moaned and shouted with complete abandon, as though they were totally alone, right out there in the open. Then again, for all Ryley knew, maybe they were.
Ryley licked up the last of the guy's cum and let the softening cock slip from his mouth. He was so achingly hard in his shorts that it took no time at all to pull his own cock out, give it a few tugs, and come all over the dirt between his knees.
“Fuck,” Ryley muttered between panted breaths. He couldn't remember the last time he'd come that quickly.
Ryley fastened his shorts and slowly got to his feet. He found the guy still staring at him, looking completely at a loss for words.
“I'm so sorry,” Ryley blurted out. “I just…I couldn't help myself.”
The guy shook his head. “I saw someone do that once, but…then my dad pulled me away…”
Ryley frowned, little details catching his attention as he studied the guy's face. The untamed hair made him look late thirties or early forties at a glance, but when Ryley looked closer, he realized the skin was too smooth to be that old, the eyes too sharp and bright. And—good gods—the man had the most startling green eyes Ryley had ever seen.
Just like Gregor Arden. Just like Silas Arden. Just like the missing Arden kid.
“Holy shit,” Ryley gasped. He blinked several times, then said, “You're Asher Arden.”
The guy's eyes went wide, and he stumbled back a step. “H-How do you know my name?”
Ryley stared, then barked out a triumphant laugh. Holy shit.
He'd found Asher Arden.
Ryley stuck out his hand. “I'm so sorry. I think we need to start over. I'm Ryley Skye.”
Asher slowly took Ryley's hand and gave it an awkward shake. And no wonder. The guy hadn't had to shake hands in thirteen years, if ever at all. Ryley laughed again. He couldn't help it. He was just so damned excited.
“Your uncle sent us to find you,” Ryley told the man as they broke contact.
Asher's eyes went wide again. “Uncle Greg?” Then his expression turned cautious. “Not…my dad? Or…”
Ryley shook his head. “No, just your uncle.”
Asher deflated, slumping onto a large rock. “All this time, I kept hoping…I thought…maybe Dad would regret what he did…”
“What did he do?” Ryley asked gently, taking a seat beside him.
Asher sighed. “Pushed me off a boat.”
“Holy shit.” Ryley had suspected as much, but hearing Asher say it only made it worse. And more real.
Asher nodded, and turned to Ryley, his eyes brightening a bit. “But Uncle Greg was really looking for me?”
“Yep. Has been for some time. Just kept hitting dead ends. Until now. I don't know why no one ever bothered to look here.” Ryley scoffed. “Haunted, my ass.”
Asher shrugged. “They probably all thought I drowned out there. Almost did, too. I nearly gave up so many times…” He trailed off, shaking his head, then he took a deep breath and held it for a long moment before he asked in a whisper, “How long have I been here?”
Ryley looked at his profile, seeing the lines of pain around Asher's eyes as he focused on the ground. “Thirteen years,” Ryley told him as gently as he could.
Asher closed his eyes. “Thirteen years,” he whispered. He slowly shook his head and opened his eyes, looking down at his hands, studying them like he'd never seen them before while he tapped his fingers as though counting something. “Gods. I'm twenty-five?” He dropped his head into his hands. “I can't be twenty-five. I'm twelve.”
“Hey.” Ryley slowly put his arms around the man. “It's gonna be alright. We're gonna get you home. I promise.”
Asher looked up, then glanced around before he asked, “How?”
Good question. Ryley thought for a moment. The sailor wouldn't come all the way to land, so even if he did come back, they'd both have to swim out to him. Ryley's whole body protested at the thought. He'd just made that swim. He didn't fancy doing anything like it ever again. No, he'd stick to running, that was for damned sure.
But Vic wouldn't leave him. Uncomfortable as things were between them, Vic was a good guy, and once he realized Ryley was missing, he'd do whatever it took to find him.
“Vic will find us,” he assured Asher. “I'll bet you anything, he'll come for us. I'd give it…maybe a few days on the outside, depending on how long it takes him to track my movements.” He looked at Asher. “He'll be here. I know he will.”
Asher nodded along, then asked, “Who's Vic?”
“Oh, he's my…um…colleague.” Ryley put on a neutral smile. “It was actually him that your uncle hired to come find you. Vic's the tracker in the company.”
“But you found me,” Asher said, smiling softly at him.
“Yeah.” Ryley shrugged. “Just…found a lead and got lucky. Vic definitely would have found you if I hadn't gotten here first.”
Asher nodded slowly. “So what do you do?”
Ryley cringed and looked away, taking a moment before he answered, “I'm the one they call in when Vic can't find someone until it's too late.” He gave Asher a sideways glance.
Asher frowned in thought, then said, “Oh.” He grimaced. “You were expecting to find a body.”
“Well, a dead one, yeah,” Ryley joked, looking at the very naked body beside him. “This was a pleasant turn of events.”
Asher blushed, looking away as a shy smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Ryley grinned. Just the reaction he wanted, hoping to keep Asher's spirits up.
And that was going to be about the best he could manage. Vic was the therapist. He was the one who would know what to say to Asher, who would know exactly what to do to put Asher's mind at ease, let him know everything was going to be fine, that they were really going to get him back home, back to his life. All Ryley was good for was jokes.
“So,” he said, breaking the silence, “what do you do for fun around here?”
Asher barked a laugh, then totally let go, clutching his belly as he laughed for a long while. Ryley watched him, smiling at the sight, until he saw Asher's laughter give way to fresh sobs, curling in on himself and hugging his knees.
“Hey, hey,” Ryley murmured, hugging Asher against his side. “It's alright.”
Asher sniffed and shook his head. “I'm sorry,” he choked out between sobs. “It's just…”
“I know. It's alright. You've been through a lot.” Ryley shook his head. “I can't even imagine.” He held Asher as the guy continued to cry, this fully grown man who really was still probably no better than a preteen in so many ways. This poor kid who had been so cruelly betrayed by his father, and then had to fight for his life, figuring out how to survive against the elements all on his own. “Gods, you must have been so scared,” Ryley blurted out.
Asher nodded against Ryley's shoulder.
“How the hells did you survive?”
Asher sniffed again and shrugged. “Had to,” he said, then gulped in more air. “Didn't have a choice. I was out there in the water, and the boat wasn't coming back for me, so…” He shrugged again, then sniffed and straightened slightly, his sobs waning though tears still fell. “I thought I saw land, so I headed for it. It felt like hours. And I kept waiting for the boat to come back for me, but it never did.”
Ryley shook his head. “I can't believe your father just left you there. He seriously pushed you off the boat?”
Asher nodded. “We were in the back, and everyone else was looking straight forward, so no one saw him do it. I guess the engine was too loud, so they couldn't hear me shouting.”
Ryley patted Asher on the arm. “But you made it here,” he said, trying to be positive
and encouraging.
Asher nodded. “I pretty much passed out as soon as I hit land. I don't remember much of those first few days. My whole body hurt, and I was so hungry and thirsty.” He snorted a laugh through his tears. “I probably nearly died a dozen times.” He paused, sighing. “Wanted to die several times,” he whispered, then asked, “I mean, what was the point? I was here, all alone…”
“Well, I'll tell you one thing,” Ryley said, and waited until Asher looked at him. “I'm glad you're alive. And I know your uncle will be, too, once we get you home.”
Asher's mouth twitched into a smile. He took a deep breath, gently pulled free of Ryley's grasp, and scrubbed the tears from his face. “Boys aren't supposed to cry, are they?” He scoffed and shook his head. “That's what Dad always said.”
“Hey.” Ryley took his hand. “You've been through hell, and survived. You cry just as much as you damned well please.”
Asher smiled again, and Ryley smiled back. It looked like the tears had finally stopped, at least for the time being. Gods, why can't Vic be here? He would know what to do with a scared kid.
Then Asher surprised him when he shot to his feet and looked around. “It's getting late.”
Ryley frowned. “It is?”
Asher nodded. “Time to get back to shelter.”
Ryley stood and gestured in the direction of the ocean. At least, what he thought was the right direction. “But what if Vic shows up–”
Asher shook his head. “Nobody ever really comes near the island, but no one comes even close at night. Believe me, I've checked.”
Ryley grimaced, trying to imagine this poor kid sitting out on the beach, day after day, night after night, for years on end, waiting and hoping that someone might finally come along and save him.
But Vic would be there. Eventually. Maybe not that night, but he'd be there. Ryley shrugged and held out his arms to either side. “Alright. What do we do?”
Asher nodded to his left. “Follow me.”
Ryley did, picking his way through the undergrowth in Asher's footsteps, trying to keep up even though his feet weren't accustomed to the terrain like Asher's clearly were. Asher retrieved his spear, then led Ryley back toward the tree line, right where Ryley had come up from the beach. Asher bent and scooped up the bunch of bananas from which Ryley had fed, then reached for the coconut shell, frowning as he looked into it.