Chapter 11 #3
We skirt the ridge, following its slow drop toward the other beach. At one point, Ace brushes against me, the heat of him blazing even through my sweat-soaked clothes. He doesn’t say sorry. I don’t want him to.
“Want some water?” he asks, stopping to sling a water bottle in my direction.
I take it, grateful, and gulp it down.
“So,” He leans back against a tree, arms crossed, staring at me with a look that’s half challenge, half something else. “Are you purposely avoiding me or...”
I reel back, shocked. “What? No?”
He grins, so wicked it makes my heart skip a beat. “Sweetpea, you’re avoiding me.”
I shake my head. “No, I swear. It has been crazy and...”
He steps forward and the words become trapped in my throat. His hand comes out and his fingers graze my waist and suddenly I’m pressed against the tree, his mouth inches from mine.
“I’m gonna kiss you now, is that good with you?” he murmurs, his voice low and husky.
I don’t answer. I just let him do it.
The kiss is nothing like the ones from before.
This is desperate and hungry, our mouths tangling together and our tongues dancing.
His hands are all over me and I do nothing to stop him.
He lifts me, just enough to make me gasp, and presses me against the trunk.
His mouth trails down, a rough line along my jaw, a scrape across my collarbone.
I arch against him, my body betraying me.
But Aggie’s words play over and over in my head.
We don’t need a baby out here.
“We should stop,” I gasp when his mouth closes over my throat. “We have nothing to protect ourselves.” And I don’t mean from the world, I don’t mean from the storms or the island or even the people back home. I mean from biology, from bodies, from babies that might come if we’re reckless.
“We can’t do this. Not all the way, not unless you want to deal with a screaming infant in the jungle.”
He rumbles out a chuckle, pulling my hair tight so I’m forced to look into his eyes. “You think it’s that easy for me to stay away from you?”
I frown. “You barely know me.”
His mouth brushes my throat, a whisper of promise. “I know enough.”
I close my eyes, wanting to keep going but knowing we can’t. I put a hand to his chest. “No sex, Ace. It’s too risky.”
A rough growl. “You think we can do that?”
I grin at him. “I guess you’ll just have to rein it in.”
With that, I slip away to his ragged curse.
We keep searching.
The path takes us down toward the far side, where the trees thin and the sand stretches away in golden arcs.
The sun is burning off the hangover of the storm, and everything smells fresh, alive.
I want to run, just to feel the air in my lungs, but we slow as we see the shore.
Something dark and lumpy dots the high-tide line.
I think it’s driftwood, but as we get closer, I realize it’s something else.
A boat.
A boat, overturned and almost buried in kelp and sand. My mind goes blank and then red-hot with possibility.
I grab Ace’s shoulder and point. “That’s a fucking boat,” I say. “Ace, that’s a boat.”
“Fuck, I wonder how long it has been here.”
“Who cares, it means someone has been here. Ace, it means there has been human life on this island before.”
“Let’s check it out.”
He takes off jogging, and I follow behind, my heart racing as we near.
When we reach it, the boat is even bigger than I thought—an old fishing craft, battered but still structurally together and boasting plenty of usable things.
It is tipped on its side, so it’s hard to see what is in the middle.
I turn to look at Ace, and he puts a hand against the timber and murmurs, “Help me. Let’s see if we can tip it. Might be full of usable stuff.”
We dig our hands under the lip and heave, muscles burning.
The boat groans but we can’t get it to move, it’s too big.
However, that isn’t what I’m thinking about in this current second.
No, all I can think about is a strange stench that rolls out so thick it nearly knocks me over. I gag, covering my mouth.
Before I can even think about what the smell is, Ace releases the boat and leans down, getting on his hands and knees and peering underneath the side.
He flinches and reels back, gagging and coughing.
He looks to me, and before he can tell me not to look, I drop to my knees and peer in.
What I see is horrifying enough to have me tumbling back, a scream ripping from my throat.
There is a body under there.
Human, unmistakably.
Decaying and twisted, jammed beneath the boat.
A man, clearly, as I could see the scuffs of hair that were once a beard.
I am still screaming, even as Ace drags me away. He pulls me to his chest, muttering curses as he tries to calm me down. It takes a few minutes for the shock to wear off, and then I pull back, pressing a hand to my chest. “What the fuck.”
“His boat must have capsized here, and he must have died when it did.”
“And nobody found him,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. “Ace, nobody fucking found him.”
The dreadful silence that follows makes me drop to my knees and dry retch.
His body has been here, for God only knows how long, and nobody has come.
What does that mean for us?