40. Retreat
Chapter 40
Retreat
Haley
M y heart slams against my chest. “Calvin, it’s fine. Easton was trying to be kind.” The peacemaker in me wants them to get along.
Calvin’s tone is low. “I’m fucking sick of it. You’re just like my brother.” He glares at Easton.
“What, your brother doesn’t like you either?” Easton goes chest to chest with Calvin.
My breath hitches. Easton doesn’t know about Calvin’s brother, but I do. Shayla told me all about him when we were scrubbing the plastic-film residue from the shower in the Fortune suite. “Easton!” I call out, but it’s too late. Calvin punches Easton in the jaw. It echoes in the humid air. It is a crunching sound I can’t describe. A sound I know I’ll hear in my sleep. I’m going to hear it for the rest of my life.
Easton shakes his head and spits out a glob of thick blood. And I’m about to step between the two of them again, but Zane grabs me around my waist. The things he was holding are pitched to the side.
My legs are flying. I can’t see Easton or Calvin anymore. Zane’s holding me like I’m nothing more than a flopping stuffed animal. The world blurs around me. The green of the jungle and the dark stormy sky are bouncing blobs. Each plodding step he takes on the trail splatters sand up onto his legs and onto the green undergrowth next to the trail.
I twist, trying to see the guys. Even the big droplets of rain splattering the palm leaves don’t slow Zane down. He runs fast enough that we really are running between the raindrops. Between his rhythmic breath and the rain, I can’t hear anything else. He runs past the stream.
“Put me down.” He doesn’t slow through the clearing. “Really, Zane.” We are almost back at our beach. Another thirty feet and we’re home. Home? Whatever. “Put me down.” I squeeze on his shoulder. “Please.”
Zane makes it to where the beach and jungle blend before he slows. “Right, sorry, Little Bird. I don’t want you anywhere near those two knuckleheads. Let them do what they have to do.” His grip loosens, and he sets me down. My feet hit the sand, and I resist the urge to go back and see what damage the two of them are doing to each other. I’m more afraid for Easton than Calvin. I’m hoping that Calvin... can stop himself. I shake my head and look off into the distance. The ocean and sky are both churning an angry gray.
“Do whatever it is they need to do?” I can’t resist, and I turn back to the head of the jungle path. “They could really hurt each other.”
“No Haley. If they need to pound on each other, let them do it.” Zane turns me back to the raft.
Dante laughs.
And Zane and I stare at him. The wind howls through our encampment, but the rain for now has stopped.
“What, pound? It’s funny.” Dante’s under the small kitchen rain shelter, and he glances between us and the jungle. “What’s going on?”
“Those two daft sods are going at it again.” Zane throws his thumb at the jungle.
It’s only then I remember I’m still clinging to one of the two pots I managed to not drop when Zane picked me up. “We?—”
“Holy shit! Fantastic, Sassy.” Dante forgets about Calvin and Easton the second he sees the cast-iron pot. He looks back at the jungle. “But where’s my coffee?” He laughs.
“I had a second pan, but I dropped it.” For a moment, my head clears of the guy’s fight. I knew Dante would be over the moon with the pots.
“This is perfect, but let’s not wave the metal around in a storm. We’ll go back and find the other one tomorrow, love.” His laugh rolls with the crashing waves. He tucks the pot under a mat in the makeshift kitchen area. “It’s brilliant! Where did you find it?”
“Uh, a derelict fishing boat.” I turn back to the jungle. I feel like I can hear them fighting, but I know I can’t. Not over the waves crashing, even though the tide is at its lowest.
“You two go get in the raft. I’ll go back and see what’s going on with them.” Zane cocks his head inland.
I’m furious at both Calvin and Easton. We’ve got enough going against us; we don’t need the two of them having a contest for control every other day.
“Let’s go get dry, Sassy,” Dante says.
The wind shifts and the rain starts up again, pelting the side of the raft. “Dry sounds good.”
Dante places a hand on my back, and Zane disappears into the jungle.
The rain is picking up again, but we both take our time getting all the sand off our feet. If I had imagined being stuck on an island, I would never have guessed it would be the sand that drove me the craziest. If I’d spent any time thinking about it, I would have. But I guess when you think about being on a deserted island, it’s always about what three things you would bring.
Dante closes the flap to the wind. He’s made good use of his time. The raft is tidied, and in the center of it are four bowls of jerky and coconut.
“Are you hungry, Sassy?”
I look out the little slot of the window. “I...”
“They’re adults. If they want to act like little boys, let them get bloody and wet.” He hands me the coconut bowl. “It’s not warm, but it’s something to eat.”
“Thank you.” I can’t help glancing back at the flap. The coconut is tasty, and he’s right: I need to eat. Without him, we’d be chewing on fishbones. I sit facing the flap. I can just see out while not too much rain is getting in.
“We’re going to lose light soon.” Dante sits across from me.
I nod at him and start eating. Something is different. It tastes better. I look up at him.
His eyebrow arches. “I knew you’d be able to tell.”
“It’s good.”
“I harvested some salt. It’s hard with the damn rain. But... Okay, enough about that.” The way he shuts down the conversation, I have a feeling I don’t want to know where he found the salt. And I’m not asking. “What else did you find?”
“Oh, a lot. And I think there’s even more that Easton and Zane haven’t told us about. It started to rain; we were trying to hurry back here. And then?—”
“The fight was about you?”
“Yes.” I purse my lips. It’s not the first time Dante has shown his intuition. “There’s a frying pan somewhere along the trail, and a ladle and a big metal spoon. Easton was carrying a chair, and Calvin had a huge net.” The words tumble out like I’m an excited child.
He nods.
“But even better, the ship is made of wood. I’m not a carpenter, but I think we should be able to build a structure. Something more than this raft. But...” I stare at the raft wall, wondering what is going on outside.
“That’s good. Eat, Haley. They’ll be back soon.”
I’m eating without thinking about it. Each bite swirls in my stomach. I sway to the left occasionally to get a better line of sight to the jungle. The wind is really blowing the tops of the trees around. And it makes me think of all the mats I made. I inch over to the flap.
“Where do you think you’re going, Sassy?”
“I should make sure everything is secure.”
“I’ve already done that. What you need to do is get dry.” He holds out a towel, and I take it. I’ve already forgotten what it is to smell clean. But I’m grateful we have a little reminder of civilization.
“Thank you for the dinner, Dante. It was really good.”
“I don’t know about it, really. But with what I had to work with, it was fucking fantastic. I’m brilliant.”
I have to shake my head. “You’re feeling better?”
“So much so.” He takes my empty bowl and puts it by the door flap.
“Where are they?” I look outside. I can almost see the trail from where I’m sitting. Angry clouds move across the tops of the trees.
“They’ll be here soon enough,” Dante says with his normal cocky tone.
I shiver.
“Are you cold, Sassy?” He pulls the flap closed.
“It’s crazy right? How can we be cold here?”
“It’s a lot—the stupid alpha dog shit, the storm. But we’ve got pots. This is a gold star day!” He opens his arms. “Come here.”
I pause for a second.
“Unless you don’t want to.” He says it with a smirk and a cocked eyebrow.
“No. I . . .”
“You’re worried. I get it. I’m just going to get you warm.”
Am I worried? What am I worried about? The storm? The guys fighting? Or being alone with Dante? Which is crazy.
That’s crazy, right?
I crawl over to him. I’m about to lean into him, but I realize my zipper jacket is dripping. I pull it off and hook it to the side of the raft. It won’t get dry in here, but at least it won’t get anyone wet either. “The storm is really picking up.” Rain pelts the top of the raft.
Dante moves from my side and pushes at the few places on the ceiling that the water collects, sending it down the outside of the raft’s sidewalls. “We’re good, Sassy.”
I put my head on his shoulder and take in a deep breath. And glare up at him. “How do you smell good? I smell like dead crabs and seaweed.”
His laugh fills the raft at the same time the ground shakes from a lightning strike. An unnatural squeal comes out of me.
“You smell like home.” He rubs his hand up and down my arm.
“Yes, well, I guess your home stinks of a clogged garbage disposal.”
He laughs again. “You do not smell like dead crabs or a garbage disposal. Sassy. Come here.” He pulls me around to his front, and I snuggle into his chest. Another flash of lightning and clap of thunder hit somewhere on the island.
“I’m doing okay. I’m doing okay.” It’s a mantra I keep repeating to myself. I know Calvin doesn’t think we’re going to be rescued. But I do. I believe it. I just have to say it over and over and make it true. I will manifest the shit out of this. The storm is gone. The guys are getting along. A nice ship takes us off the island—back to dry clothes and pizza.
“You’re better than okay.” He kisses the top of my head.
And I flatten my hand on his chest. His heart is constant and strong, and I’m trying to focus on it instead of the storm. My stupid fear of storms has come to bite me in the ass more than once. I’m going to get over it.
When I tilt my head up, his eyes darken. I know I shouldn’t. It’s not the right time, but I can’t stop myself. I tilt my chin far back and take in his lips. My heart does sprints inside my chest. His kiss is firm, but while I might have started it, I’m no longer in control. The others might be fighting for top dog position, but Dante knows who he is. It doesn’t take long before he’s hiked me up to straddle his waist. I’m on top, but I’m as much in control as someone driving an amusement park car ride.
“Sassy.” He holds the sides of my cheeks and locks eyes with me in the low light. I’m chained to his gaze. His eyes aren’t solid brown. They are amber with flakes of deep blue. He has a square jawline and a dimple on his right cheek that gives him a celebrity chef look. The man is like artwork, artwork that smells of cookies and fresh laundry. It’s easy to forget how attractive he is with his mouth continually running.
A wiry smile takes over his handsome face. “What are you thinking, Sassy?” He shifts a bit, and his hard cock hits me in just the right spot. I move back, doing it again. Loving how it feels. I’m chewing on my lower lip. “Damn, Sassy. I’m trying to be a gentleman, but if you do that again?—”
I slide up on him, and he full-on growls, leaving a trail of goosebumps down my arms. Then my back is on the bottom of the raft. “You’re mine now, Sassy, understood?”
“Yes,” I gulp.