Chapter 17
Seventeen
EVIE
M y hands tremble around the note. The obliterated remains of a blue monarch butterfly litter the table. It’s been hours, and only now have I drummed up the courage to open the letter.
I wish I hadn’t done that.
Panic has me strung out. With clammy hands, I pluck up the mug of water on the table and try to ease my parched throat before replacing it to the table beside the letter.
Words bleed together on the page as I try to force air into my lungs.
If I close my eyes, maybe it will morph into a publishing contract, or maybe a letter from Livvy...
I slam my eyes shut.
One.
Breathe in.
Two.
Breathe out.
Three.
Breathe in.
Four.
Breathe out.
I snap my eyes open.
The violent scrawl across the page stares back at me. Whimpering, I drop the page and back away from the table, hand covering my mouth.
Bile rises and burns, but I force myself to read the letter out loud. So my mind can’t misinterpret the words, can’t placate the meaning. Can’t alter the message on the page . . .
Legs trembling, I sway, hitting the table. The mug topples over and water spills over the page, encasing it in a watery veneer. I bolt up the stairs and stumble into the bathroom. Hands gripping the seat, I lose my stomach to the toilet.
Sobs chug upward as the bile renews its burn. “Fuck...”
I scream into my hands, crumpling onto the tile in a shaking mess of limbs. He killed Joshua.
It’s all my fault.
It’s. All. My. Fault.
The fiery grip of fear, anxiety, and disgust wind through me inch by inch. Keening, rocking back and forth with fingers tangled in my hair, I scream into the tile.
“No...” I slam a fist into the floor. Something cracks, and pain lances through my knuckles and wrist.
Heat and the agony of fresh grief slam into me. I try to rise but fall to my knees again. The only thing I can think of is hiding in the solace of the arms of the man who’s made my days bearable for the last five months.
I stagger to my feet, gripping the doorway to the bathroom.
Something bright flashes outside. The gnarly grip of terror renders me still for a moment.
Then the rumble follows. The wind howls.
How did I not hear it before? The roar of the blood rushing through my ears must have drowned out the storm brewing outside.
I make it to the kitchen to sweep the curtain to one side.
Lightning scrawls across the sky. The crash of waves on the rock of the western shore roars alongside the continuous thunder.
The tree line of the forest sways violently.
Something knocks against the window, and I jump with a start, a yelp spewing from my lips.
My heart is racing, keeping its chaotic, manic rhythm in time to the tremor in my hands.
“I’m not staying here by myself,” I whisper, as if Cal can hear me.
Like somehow, even though we’re at opposite ends of this island, we’re still connected.
The front door jostles under the force of the storm. Logically, I know this old house will keep me safe. But if T, or whatever he signs off as, knows where I am...
Am I really safe here, alone?
Fresh fear closes my throat around a new stone set on not nudging. I’ll take my chances with Mother Nature. Man has never turned out to be a safe option. The paper on the table that’s now moving as if by some invisible puppeteer’s strings as a draft finds its way inside is evidence of that.
How hard can it be? Callum said it only takes an hour to walk there. If I run...
In the dark.
In a storm.
Something clatters to the ground outside. I freeze, holding my breath.
I swipe up my useless phone just in case and grab one of Callum’s caps from the hook before shrugging my coat over my shoulders.
A shadow moves past the window and I barely manage to tamp back the scream that flies up.
“Out. I need to get out,” I whimper, shoving my boots onto my feet. My hand trembles on the doorknob.
“You can do this, Evie. Go on!”
I pull the door open and cross the threshold, and it all but tugs from my hand, slamming shut behind me.
Battered by the wind, I make a beeline for the trees, holding the cap on my head with one hand.
When I reach the trees, I break into a run, heading south.
I hope. The rush of the wind is less in here.
But the canopy swirls above me. Twigs crack underfoot as I push my legs faster.
A groan sounds from behind me.
From what, or who, I can’t tell.
Tears swell, blurring my vision. “Dammit, not now.”
I swipe low branches away as I plow through the forest. My heartbeat hammers through my ears, clanging my brain in my skull.
My heavy, heaving breaths burn, and I slow. Only a little.
I look over my shoulder. Everything’s a blur.
My foot stubs into something hard, and I fly face-first into the soaked forest floor.
“Ah, fuck,” I sob.
Rolling over, I lay on my back and let despair wash through me.
Let it wring my exhausted body out until the remnants of the fire I’ve found these last few months is all that’s left.
The world seems to slow as I lie here, mesmerized by the chaotic canopy above me.
For the first time in hours, I take a long, deep lungful of air.
I let my eyes flutter shut, curling my fingers into the soft, mossy ground underneath me with both hands.
Both hands.
My phone.
“Fuck,” I groan.
Now, even if it worked, I have no way of reaching anyone. I must have dropped it in my hysterics.
God, you idiot, Evie. My exhales echo in the air above me. I listen to each one against the storm’s grumble. It’s almost soft. Poetic, for sure.
A twig snaps mere feet away.
Whimpering, I hesitate before I scurry to my feet and get my bearings. Something hits the tree to my left and I scream, sprinting south. I think.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck . . .
No . . .
I don’t know how long I’ve been running when my aching legs start to tremble. Lightning flashes, the thunder roaring a split second later.
I glance back, knowing it’s a risk.
Trees move. Something moves between the great timbers.
The smell of wood-burning smoke drifts on the wild air around me.
Callum.
“Callum!”
I push faster. Heat prickles its way down my spine when I reach a small clearing to find a waterhole. But no fishing hut.
Nobody.
“Shit!” I take off again. Sweat trickles down my chest, and I wrangle the coat from my shoulders and lose it to the ground, going as fast as I can.
“Callum!”
Tears burn my eyes again, and every breath is laced with a choppy sob.
I can’t stop.
I don’t know what’s behind me.
I run.
And run .
When I can’t catch my breath any longer, I stagger to a stop, propped against a tree. Trying to steady my breath, I strain to listen to the forest around me. Trying desperately to separate the sounds of the storm from everything else.
A moment passes, and I regain an inkling of stability in my legs, so I push off the tree. Taking off at a jog, I pray the wind carries my pleas to the fishing hut. Or by some miracle of nature, or whatever universal force is responsible for human connection, Callum hears me.
Please hear me.
“Callum!”
My hand hits a tree as I fly past, over the now slippery forest floor.
An ache works its way through my knuckles, and my fingertips tingle.
A shiver racks my body. With the jacket gone and the misty air rolling, my body temperature has dropped.
I lose my footing as I weave through the trees.
The rain presses down, sending fat drops cascading from the canopy.
They splash onto my hair and face, rolling over my skin.
The tremble that held my body captive for the past forty minutes morphs into shaking.
Each breath now curls into a suspended cloud in front of my face.
The burn between my ribs is most likely setting the air in my lungs to smoke.
The lightning has faded, and now the forest is dark.
I push through the forest, steadying myself against the trees as I go. But cold, exhausted, and close to giving up, I sink to my knees.
Staring through the forest, I have no idea how far I have left to go.
“Callum!” I huff out a cry, losing my conviction. “Where are you?”
Hanging my head, I let the sadness roll through me.
Joshua.
The scream of tires pushing sideways tears through my mind. Bright lights and scared eyes holding mine as they fall closed.
Never to open again.
I slump over, curling up on the cold, wet ground, and hug my knees to my body.
Maybe if I just lie here, life will forget about me. I will be gone. Pay penance for my poor choices. Leave another good man to a life without drama.
Thunder rumbles in the distance. I shake violently against the temporary parcel of cold air from the storm. Soaked to the bone, I wait for numbness to set in.
Maybe I can convince it to stay . . .
Maybe if I just lie here.
I’ll be found. And either way, I can stop being so lost.
T.
Callum.
Either way.
Fat, round spheres fall from above when the canopy moves. They explode on impact as I stare, unseeing. The storm rumbles past, leaving its cold trail as it goes. If only I could whisk away with it.
Then regret folds in around me at the thought of running from this island.
This island is the first place I have been able to relax. To breathe.
I wouldn’t leave?—
Crashing blunders toward me through the forest undergrowth. I’m so turned around, I can’t tell which direction it’s coming from.
I should get up.
I should run.
Put distance between me and whoever it is.
After a moment of hesitation, I push off the ground to sit up. My back meets the rough bark of a tree. My body aches. My lungs are only capable of short bursts.
Leaning my head back on the tree, I let my eyes fall closed and accept my fate.
Footsteps close in, slowing as they crunch on the ground near me.
A huffy breath is followed by warmth moving in, right in front of me.
I hold my breath, swallowing down a sob. Wringing my hands, I don’t dare to open my eyes. I don’t want to know who found me.
I can’t bear it.