Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 58226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
I stop breathing and blink in surprise. I practically expect him to pound his chest.
He continues to lament and howl, but I don’t hear much beyond what he just said.
You’re not getting her.
I own you.
Should I be afraid of his unabashed proclamation of ownership?
He waits, panting from the exertion of screaming to the other man who inhabits this island, before walking back to me.
“The ship might come back,” I remind him stubbornly. If it does, I’m leaving. I have to. I have a job and a brother and would prefer the simplicity of a predictable meal in my belly, thank you. I clear my throat. I try another approach though. “If it does, come with me.”
He holds my gaze for a minute before shaking his head and looking away. Finally, he sighs. “No one’s coming, Harper. They brought you here for a reason.”
Who?
I shake my head. I don’t believe it. “You’re lying.”
His jaw firms. “I don’t lie. Let’s cook that snake.”
“Cy, you can’t just change the subject.”
Walking toward the snake, he doesn’t meet my eyes. When he speaks, his tone is mild but resigned. “You don’t have to believe me,” he says, his tone gentler at first than I’ve ever heard from him. Then his tone hardens. “But there’s no ship coming, Harper.”
Nine
Cy
After I tell her we’re stranded here, she pulls into herself a little. She grows quiet and introspective. I don’t really blame her. Today has been intense.
I honestly feel bad for the girl—woman. Whatever. I feel bad for her, because she’s been through so much in such a short time.
I build a fire in silence, and we eat the snake. I’m honestly kinda proud of her. She makes a face but doesn’t protest this time, taking the roasted meat from me without a word of complaint. When we finish the snake, we eat another coconut for dessert, polish off the coconut water, then walk silently down to fetch water to drink. When we come back up to the cave, the sun’s already set, and the night’s grown cooler. She shivers. Without a word, I drape my arm around her shoulders and pull her closer to me. She doesn’t protest.
We sit by the fire in silence, and it feels almost nice, the crackle of the flames and her soft breathing beside me. Without the trappings of polite society, it feels as if there’s no need to keep up conversation. We sit in silence for a while until her head begins to droop.
“Harper.” She jerks her head up and blinks at me, her auburn hair hanging about her in messy but adorable waves. We stayed mostly out of the sun today, but she still has a light pink tinge on her cheeks. The flickering fire lights her green eyes so they look like little bits of glimmering jade. My chest swells with pride, and I want to gather her up to me and hold her.
I’m not used to this urge I have, to protect her, to keep her safely by my side. It’s foreign to me but feels right.
I saved her life today. I fucked her. I spanked her ass.
Like I said. It’s been an intense day. But it’s left me with the need to cherish this woman, though I hardly even know who she is.
I need to get this sleepy girl to bed. “Let’s get some rest, baby.”
She looks from me to the fire, then back to me again.
Baby.
Why did I say that? I don’t regret it, though.
She yawns, like a sleepy little kitten, then gets to her feet. I take her hand, but before we go to the cave, I look beyond us to see if there’s any indication at all that Will’s out there. It was one thing when I was a loner on this island. Now that I have a woman to care for, it’s altogether different. But I see nothing at all, though the pitch blackness doesn’t help matters.
“Wait.” She freezes at the foot of the cave, turns to me, and frowns. “Um. Where do you sleep?”
Isn’t it obvious? I point to the cave. “In there.” Did she not realize that?
“Um…” she worries her lip. “Are there bats?”
I nod. “Yes.”
She shakes her head. “Oh God oh God oh God.” It sounds like she’s about to cry. “I can’t sleep in there!”
“Course you can,” I say, taking her by the hand and giving her a little tug. “The bats won’t bother you, and it’s safer in here than outdoors. Outside the cave you’re susceptible to much more.” Snakes. Rodents. Spiders.
The other man on this island.
Christ.
“How will I sleep with bats in that cave?” she asks in a high-pitched, terrified voice. She begins to whimper. “Cy, oh God, seriously there has to be another option.”
I work my jaw before I reply. “There was, back when the men on this island were friendly. But it’s too dark now to go to the shore.” We had a few makeshift shelters we built, all six of us. One much sturdier than the rest. Back when we weren’t enemies.