Chapter Two
Valli
The paramedics arrive before I can process what happened.
Cipher is alive, despite there being so much blood. But I keep my hands pressed to his chest—I cannot risk moving them.
“Miss, we need you to step back,” the female paramedic says.
I stand on shaky legs, and Noa helps keep me steady. “Will he be okay?” I ask.
“Let us work,” a second paramedic says, while his colleague cuts Cipher’s shirt open.
All I can see is blood.
“Okay, this is good news,” the female finally answers. “The bullet grazed him but didn’t penetrate the skin. An inch to the left and we’d be having a very different conversation.”
I exhale. The words should make me feel better—relieved. Instead, I feel like throwing up.
“But there was so much blood,” I blurt while staring at his chest. “It was everywhere.”
“Some grazes can bleed a lot,” the male paramedic responds, cleaning the wound. “It looks worse than it is. He will be fine. Sore, but fine.”
Cipher’s eyes blink open and lock on mine as panic flits across his face. “Am I dead?”
I smile. “No, you’re okay.”
“We need to get you to the hospital,” the paramedic interjects. “You might need stitches and to make sure there’s no risk of infection.”
“No,” Cipher snaps. “I’m not going to any hospital.”
“Sir, you need—”
“I’m fine,” he cuts in. “Stitch me up here.”
“We can’t.”
He huffs. “Then I’ll do it myself.”
The paramedics share a look, knowing they can’t force him.
“At least let us clean and dress the wound properly,” the female says, to which Cipher nods.
The paramedics work quickly, applying some steri-strips and antiseptic cream before bandaging him up with gauze and tape.
I glance around us, wishing I knew where Cave went; Cipher is going to want to know, and I have no answer for him. Last I saw, he was dragging Rowan out of here, and he has not come back.
Noa is standing beside me, bouncing on his toes. He keeps peering into the corn, and I wonder if he knows where Cave has gone.
As the paramedics wrap up, the police arrive. It’s a good thing it wasn’t an actual emergency.
Clay greets them as they reach our small group.
“Officers,” Clay says. “Thank you for coming. I’m the head of security for Fear Island and can walk you through what happened.”
The police officer, a woman with short hair, nods seriously. “We got a call about a shooting. Who is the victim?”
Clay gestures to Cipher, who is now sitting up shirtless, uncomplaining but obviously bandaged up. “His name is Cipher. He’s fine—it’s just a graze. The incident happened right here.”
The officer’s eyes move between Clay, Cipher, and me, and it’s at that point that I realize I’m covered in Cipher’s blood, and my hands are shaking.
“What happened?” the officer asks, while her partner, a younger man, stands by her side.
“Rowan Calloway arrived a little under an hour ago, wanting to see his sister, Valli. He wasn’t happy about her having a boyfriend who works here,” Clay responds impassively.
“She was here in the cornfield, and Cipher offered to show him the way. When they got here, Rowan pulled out a gun and aimed at Valli. Cipher jumped in front of her to protect her as the gun went off.”
It’s a good lie, but still a lie.
This story protects Cave, but he deserves our protection. He never asked to be dragged into my mess.
“Where is Rowan now?”
“He ran right after he shot Cipher—he must have panicked and taken off. We haven’t seen him since.”
The male officer takes notes, then asks, “Do you have any surveillance footage of the incident?”
“Our security system has been down for a few days,” Clay says without missing a beat. “We’re in the process of upgrading the entire system, so the old one is offline.”
I don’t know if the security system is actually down, but it doesn’t matter. Clay has created a narrative where there is no evidence except eyewitness testimony.
The officer doesn’t look happy, but she is also not shocked. “I’ll speak to the victim now.”
Cipher nods, and she turns to face him.
“Is that what happened? Rowan pulled a gun on your girlfriend, and you jumped in front of her?”
Cipher simply nods once more. The officer looks like she wants to ask further questions, but I think she already knows we will all say the same thing.
“We’ll need to file a report and also locate Rowan. Do you know where he might go?” she asks, turning to me.
“No,” I reply truthfully. “I only ever see him when he needs money.”
The officer makes more notes. “We’ll put out an APB. If he shows up here again, contact us immediately.”
She takes our information, gets a statement from me, and reassures us that they will find him.
Good, I hope they do because I have to let him go at this point.
I could have dealt with it if it only affected me, but now he has brought my friends into it, and I hate him for that.
God, I hope Cave comes back before they find him; I don’t want him any more involved than he is in this mess.
After about half an hour, the police finally finish, and Khodi escorts them out.
Clay watches until they clear the cornfield, then he crouches beside Cipher. “You good?”
Cipher nods.
“And Cave?” Clay asks, his eyes moving between Noa and me.
“Don’t know,” Noa says. “He grabbed Rowan and left, heading toward the parking area.”
“He left with that moron, Jester,” Vesper says, joining us. “I saw them get into his truck.”
The Jester—Noa has told me about him. He said he is one of the newer members here, but that he is unhinged. He’s not someone you want to be on the bad side of, but I guess the same can be said about anyone here on the island.
“Okay,” Clay says. “We’ll handle this. I will send out a message that the surveillance is down, that Rowan panicked and left. That’s the story, and we’ll stick to it. The less the police sniff around here, the better.”
“You did good,” Clay says to me. “At playing the traumatized girlfriend.”
Except I’m not playing; I am traumatized. Cipher got shot, and I thought he was going to die at the hands of my brother. Add in Cave now being god knows where, and no one knows if or when he is coming back.
Cipher pushes himself up to stand, and I move to help him, but he waves me off.
“I’m fine,” he says, trying to be strong. But he isn’t; he’s pale and moves like he is in a lot of pain.
“We should get you inside,” Noa says. “You should lie down.”
Cipher nods, accepting Noa’s words. “If anyone sees Cave,” he adds, “please let us know straight away. We have no idea what frame of mind he’s in, and the fewer casualties the better.”
Clay nods and radios Khodi, arranging for someone to man the gate 24/7 until Cave returns. It’s the only way on and off the island, so when he comes back, we will be the first to know.
We move toward the residential area that leads to Cipher’s shed, Noa and Clay helping Cipher to walk.
“Where do you think Cave will go?” I muse aloud.
“I have a theory,” Clay answers me. “If he has taken Rowan, he may go after Steedy. He is the real threat, and your brother would be good bait.”
My stomach drops. Steedy is dangerous, and though I know Cave is as well, he is one man whereas Steedy has an entire crew.
We eventually get Cipher to his shed, then Noa gets his bed set up and Cipher settled.
Once he is done and bustles out of the room, I drop onto the edge, my tears finally falling.
I’ve tried to hold them back, but with Cipher’s blood now dry on my hands, the memory of thinking he was dying, plus not knowing if Cave is okay, it’s all too much.
Cipher groans as he sits up beside me and wipes a tear from my face.
“Hey,” he says softly. “I’m okay.”
“You got shot,” I sob out.
“Grazed,” he corrects me. “And I would do it again.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why not? It’s true.” His hands cover mine and he squeezes. “I’d take a bullet for you, time and time again. You’re special, Valli. You have a purpose.”
“So do you,” I whisper.
Cipher’s hand comes up and tilts my chin so I’m looking at him. “I need to lie down, but can you lie with me?”
When I nod, Noa comes into the room, as if he was listening from the doorway. He adjusts pillows and readjusts the blankets around Cipher’s careful movements. He winces as he lies back down, his jaw tense as he gets settled.
“Pain meds,” Noa says, holding out some pills and a bottle of water. Cipher takes them without arguing.
I move next to him and see there is a small spot of blood seeping through the gauze.
Cipher looks down when he notices me staring. “It will be fine,” he huffs.
“You’re bleeding.”
He scoffs at me. “Barely. Now come here.”
“I’ll hurt you.”
“You won’t. Right now, I need a rest and a hug.”
I carefully position myself next to him, trying not to move too much. Noa brings in extra pillows to help prop Cipher up more, so he doesn’t have to lie flat.
Cipher’s arm comes around me, and he pulls me against his side. I feel him wince again, but he doesn’t complain.
“You’re hurting,” I murmur.
“Yeah, but I would rather hurt and have you close than be comfortable without you.”
That’s something that would normally have made my eyes roll—words that sound cliché and feel fake—but when he says it, it doesn’t feel that way.
Noa sits at the foot of the bed, his eyes locked on Cipher, worry lacing his gaze. Cipher’s pain medication must kick in, as he gets drowsy and starts to fall asleep.
I stay curled against his side, my hand on his heart, feeling the steady rhythm beating under my skin.
Noa paces the shed, checking on us every half an hour or so. When midnight rolls around, Cipher wakes, and Noa gives him more pills to take the edge off his pain.
“What if something has happened to Cave?” I say, my anxiety kicking in since he isn’t back yet.
Cipher’s arm tightens around me. “It didn’t,” he murmurs.
“You don’t know that.”
“I know Cave, and he isn’t so easy to kill.” With a snort, he pulls me into his side as he falls back asleep.
By two a.m., I’m convinced something is really wrong, and by three a.m., I swear he has to be in jail or dead in a ditch somewhere. Once it has reached four a.m., I am mentally preparing myself for the fallout when Noa and Cipher find out Cave is dead.
Noa finally stops pacing around five a.m. and lies down at the foot of the bed. Cipher is still snuggled around me and sleeping soundly.
“Are you worried as well?” Noa asks.
“Yes. I have convinced myself that he is dead in a ditch somewhere.”
Noa chuckles. “I’ve had to talk myself down so many times. In my head, he is burying bodies without me, but what if he doesn’t dig the graves deep enough? You need to be strategic about avoiding where people might look for a missing person.”
After that, we both simply lie there in the overwhelming silence. I have realized it’s pointless listening for Cave; it’s not like we would hear him coming.
I don’t understand how I got here—to this emotional point—in such a short amount of time. Have I been so starved for attention that I’ve latched onto the first people who actually cared about me?