Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68509 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68509 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
I eyed the groups.
Some wore the kind of backpacking supplies that made me think they were hoofing it. The others had the tucked-in shirt, wide-eyed looks of tourists looking to be shown around.
I followed them but kept an eye on the other group for Wick.
I mean, it wasn’t like he could disappear on me. We were stranded on an island.
As it turned out, this island wasn’t where anyone intended to actually visit. We all had to take a bus toward the Itabaca Channel. From there, we would each buy a ticket on a barge that would take us across to one of the other islands.
I had to admit, even out of the streaky window of the bus, I could tell that the other islands were everything the guidebooks promised.
The water shifted from a deep sapphire to a vibrant turquoise around the islands that rose out of the Pacific like scattered emeralds. Their volcanic peaks cut through the horizon, with their black lava cliffs and untouched vegetation butting up to golden sand beaches.
If I had enough charge left on my phone, I would have been taking dozens of pictures to show off when I went back home.
Most of my jobs didn’t take me anywhere all that interesting. Unless seedy bars and strip clubs counted.
They didn’t.
As it was, all I could do was commit it all to memory and hope maybe someone would let me use their power bank so I could charge up and at least get one or two pictures.
When the bus stopped, I realized the “barge” wasn’t exactly a barge. Hell, it wasn’t even a ferry.
Our transport to any of the other islands was… speedboats. Large ones, but still.
I waited in line, gaze scanning the horizon, keeping an eye out for Wick.
Had he beaten me?
No.
There was no way.
He’d been on foot.
Right?
But as I kept waiting and waiting, seeing the group of backpackers finally making their way to the speedboats, I had a sinking feeling in my stomach.
Could he somehow have gotten ahead of me?
Or, worse yet, turned back around as soon as I was gone and hopped on a plane back to the mainland?
I mean… I hadn’t heard a plane take off. And it wasn’t exactly a busy airport.
Chances were, he was already on a speedboat or he was behind me and about to get on one.
Decision made, I got my ticket and climbed on one of the pristine white boats that would take our small group from Isla Baltra the short distance to Isla Santa Cruz.
My stomach sloshed as the boat lurched forward.
“Oh, God,” I groaned, dropping down into one of the few seats, trying to deep-breathe through the swirling in my head and belly.
I reached again for my handbook, needing a distraction as the boat moved faster, flipping past the bits about the rainforest, focusing back on the islands instead.
“Thank God,” I murmured to myself when I learned that several of the islands—including Santa Cruz, where we were heading—were inhabited. There would be hotels, resorts, food, water, maybe a way to charge my damn phone.
As we got closer, I could see some of the luxury “glamping” tents dotting the landscape.
There were docks, canoes, other people.
I guess I’d been expecting something a lot more… I don’t know… isolated. But the guidebook did say that some islands were inhabited, while others weren’t. So most tourists rented a room at one of the resorts or luxury tents on islands like Santa Cruz, San Cristóbal, Isabela, or Floreana. Then they spent some of their time taking guided tours—or renting their own private speedboats—to check out the more remote and uninhabited islands.
I felt a strange little twinge of regret and longing in my belly, suddenly wishing I wasn’t chasing a skip, but rather taking a girl’s trip with my friends instead. Long, lazy days at the beach, sipping mixed drinks. Swimming in the ocean. Taking boats to the islands to check out the lizards, Blue Footed Boobies, penguins, and… everything else this place had to offer.
I could come back, I reminded myself.
Once Wick was back in custody, and I had a freshly printed check for an absurd amount of money in my hand, I could go back to Navesink Bank, I could gather my friends, and we could plan a trip.
True, we all had our own lives now that often took us away from home. No one was guiltier of that than me. So if I was the one to make the plans, I was sure everyone would show up.
Well, the ones who hadn’t already shacked up, that is.
The speedboat pulled up to a dock on the island a few minutes later.
I wanted to take it all in.
Instead, I looked around for Wick.
Honestly, I didn’t expect to see him.
But there, standing at the helm of a speedboat while a man on the dock started to untie the rope connecting it, was Wick in his damn white straw hat and sunglasses.