Chapter 18 The Keeper of Secrets – Luna
The planning session runs late. Again. We’ve been huddled in the old chapel for three hours, going over escape routes and timing and contingencies. My head pounds. My shoulders ache from tension. Every sound makes me jump.
Belle is still talking. Something about coordinating camera blackouts with Tucker’s schedule. About making sure Tyler has the student testimonies compiled. About Raegan’s blind spot maps and how we can use them to move between buildings undetected.
I should be listening. Should be contributing. But I can’t focus. Can’t think past the constant fear humming through my veins.
Three weeks has become two weeks. Then ten days. Now we’re down to eight days until The Harvest. Eight days until network members descend on this island to select their new assets. To decide which students are useful and which need to be removed.
Eight days until we either escape or die trying.
“Luna.” Erik’s hand covers mine. “You’re shaking.”
I look down. He’s right. My hands tremble against the worn wood of the pew we’re sitting on. I can’t make them stop.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” He turns to Belle and Max. “We need a break. She needs a break.”
“We don’t have time for breaks,” Belle says. But her voice is gentler than her words. “The Harvest is in eight days. We still have so much to coordinate.”
“And Luna is going to collapse if she doesn’t rest.” Erik stands and pulls me up with him. “Thirty minutes. We’ll be back.”
He doesn’t wait for Belle’s response. Just leads me out of the chapel into the cool night air. I breathe deeply. Try to steady myself. But the shaking won’t stop.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Somewhere private. Somewhere you can fall apart for a few minutes without worrying about who’s watching.”
He takes me to the groundskeeper’s shed. A small building near the edge of campus. Jack gave us the location during one of our resistance meetings. Said his father keeps spare keys there. That it’s rarely used at night.
Erik produces a key and unlocks the door. Inside smells like grass clippings and gasoline. Lawn equipment lines the walls. Garden tools hang from hooks. There’s barely enough room for both of us.
Erik closes the door and locks it. The darkness is complete except for a thin line of moonlight through the window.
“Talk to me,” he says. His hands find my shoulders in the dark. “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”
“I’m scared.” The admission comes out broken. Raw. “I’m terrified. Every day I wake up wondering if this is the day Selena figures out what we’re planning. If this is the day she decides we’re too dangerous to keep alive.”
“I know.”
“Do you? Do you really?” I grab his shirt. Pull him closer. “Because you seem so calm. So steady. Like you’re not afraid at all.”
“I’m terrified, too. I’m just better at hiding it.” His forehead presses against mine. “Luna, I wake up every morning wondering if I’m going to lose you… If Selena is going to take you away like she took Austin… Like she took all those other students. The fear is eating me alive.”
“Then why are we doing this? Why are we risking everything?”
“Because the alternative is worse. Living under her control… waiting for her to use us, or offer us to her network like we’re products.” His hands slide from my shoulders to my face. “I’d rather die fighting than live as her prisoner.”
“I don’t want to die at all.”
“Neither do I. Which is why we’re going to win.
” He kisses me. Soft. Gentle. “We’re going to get off this island.
We’re going to expose Selena and destroy the network.
And then we’re going to have that life we talked about.
The one with windows and a beach wedding and boring, normal, beautiful days. ”
I want to believe him. Want to believe in happy endings and justice and good triumphing over evil. But I’ve seen too much. Know too much about how the world actually works.
“Kiss me,” I whisper. “Not gentle. Not sweet. Kiss me like we’re running out of time.”
Because we are. Eight days. That’s all we have left.
He does. His mouth crashes against mine. Hungry. Desperate. His hands are in my hair. On my hips. Pulling me closer until there’s no space between us.
I kiss him back with equal desperation. Need him to make me feel something other than fear. Need to remember what it’s like to be alive instead of just surviving.
“Luna.” My name is a groan against my lips. “We should get back. Belle is waiting.”
“I don’t care.” My hands find the hem of his shirt. Start pulling it up. “I need this. I need you. Right now.”
He hesitates. Then pulls the shirt over his head. His bare skin is warm against mine. I run my hands across his chest. Down his stomach. Feel his muscles contract under my touch.
“Take this off,” he whispers. His hands find the bottom of my shirt. “Let me see you.”
I obey. My shirt joins his on the floor. Then his mouth is on mine again. Hot and demanding. His fingers skim the tops of my skirt. I shiver.
“I need this,” I say. “I need you, Erik.”
“Shhhh. I’ve got you. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
He moves us to the back of the shed. Carefully navigating in the dark. Then his body is against mine again. His hand slides into my hair. The other trails up my leg. Hooks around the top of my thigh.
His fingers tease under the edge of my skirt. Up. Higher. I arch against him. Whisper his name.
Then he’s on his knees, my leg around his shoulder. His hands moving the skirt up. Over my hips. He presses his mouth against the bare skin of my thigh. My whole body trembles.
He pulls down my panties. Then his mouth is on me. Hot and insistent. I clutch his hair. My head hits the wall behind me. My entire world narrows to his tongue. His fingers. The heat building inside me.
His tongue pushes between my lower lips. I’m shaking. Clutching him tighter. He nibbles on my clit. Licks it gently. Then sucks.
His finger joins his tongue. Pushing inside me. I bite my lip to hold back a scream. He works another finger in. Stretching me. Filling me.
My body explodes. Wave after wave of pleasure. I shudder against him. My breath coming in desperate pants. He continues licking. Slowly. Carefully.
He licks me clean, taking in every last drop. I come again as his tongue brushes my clit. My legs can’t support me. I slide down the wall until we’re face to face. He kisses me, and I taste myself on his lips.
I reach for his belt. Unfasten it. Push his jeans and underwear down just enough to free his erection. His breathing changes. I wrap my hand around his shaft. He shudders.
I guide him toward my mouth, but I don’t take him in. Not yet. I gently blow on him first.
“Luna.”
I can hear his desperation. Feel his desire.
I lick the precum from his head, and he shudders. He tastes salty and a little sweet.
“Luna.”
He grabs the back of my head and presses his cock against my mouth. He wants to fuck my face.
“Do it.”
He slides himself in.
“Oh my God.”
He thrusts. Deeper. He’s almost at the back of my throat. He pulls out. Then slides back in. I swallow and tighten the muscles in my throat around him.
He cries out.
I grab his ass and pull him closer. I want him deeper. All the way inside me.
He thrusts faster. Deeper. Harder.
He’s panting. Grunting. I can feel his orgasm building.
Suddenly, he pulls out of my mouth and grabs my arm. He lifts me up in his arms and presses me against the wall for support as he positions himself between my legs.
He rubs his tip against my opening, spreading the wetness there.
“God, you’re so fucking wet.”
He thrusts into me, and I cry out.
He pounds into me, his pace increasing with each stroke.
He reaches up and grabs a handful of my hair. He pulls my head to the side, exposing my neck.
“Luna,” he moans.
“Harder,” I whisper.
He thrusts harder. Deeper.
“More,” I beg.
“Luna, you feel so good.”
His breathing is coming fast and hard. His eyes are closed.
I dig my fingernails into his shoulders.
“Yes, baby, just like that.”
He thrusts into me harder.
“Come inside me,” I whisper.
He looks up at me. His eyes are dark with desire.
“Come inside me,” I repeat.
He thrusts deep and hard, and I cry out. He comes inside me, and I explode around him. My orgasm crashes over me. My legs give out, and I hang onto him as my whole body shakes.
When it’s over, he rests his forehead against mine.
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
We straighten our clothes in silence. My hands still shake but for different reasons now. Erik’s breathing is ragged. He leans against the wall like his legs won’t quite hold him.
“We should go back,” I finally say.
“Yeah.” But he doesn’t move. He just looks at me in the dim light filtering through the window. “I love you. You know that, right?”
“I know.”
“And whatever happens. Whatever Selena does. Whatever the network throws at us.” He reaches out and touches my face. “I’m with you. Always.”
“Even if we don’t make it off this island?”
“Even then.” He kisses me once more. Softer this time. Tender. “If we’re going down, we’re going down together.”
The walk back to the chapel feels longer than it should. Every shadow could hide a watcher. Every sound could be security coming to drag us away. By the time we slip back inside, my heart is racing again.
Belle and Max look up from their papers. Belle’s eyebrow raises slightly. Max smirks.
“Feel better?” Belle asks.
“Much.” I slide back into my seat beside Erik. “Sorry. I just needed a minute.”
“We all need minutes.” Belle’s voice is understanding. “We’re all running on empty. But we’re almost there. Eight more days. Then it’s over. One way or another.”
“Let’s make sure it’s the right way,” Max says. He spreads out a new map. “Jack got his father’s keys copied. Which means we have access to every building on campus. Including the server room.”
“When do we move on that?” I ask.
“Two days before The Harvest. Network members will start arriving. Selena will be distracted with hosting. Security will be focused on protecting the guests.” Belle traces a route on the map.
“Tucker will have a four-hour window to access the servers. To plant his virus. To create the blackout we need.”
“Four hours isn’t much time,” Erik says.
“It’s enough. Tucker knows what he’s doing.” Belle’s confidence is absolute. “While the security system goes down, we move. Through the tunnels to the north shore. Onto the boats. Off the island before anyone realizes we’re gone.”
“What about the other students?” I ask. “The ones helping us. The ones who’ve been blackmailed and abused.”
“They come with us. Everyone who wants out gets out.” Belle meets my eyes. “I promised them freedom. I’m not leaving anyone behind.”
I think about Leyla with her cheerful mask hiding terror. About Tyler searching for his sister. About all the students who’ve been trapped here, used here, broken here.
“Okay,” I say. “Then let’s make sure we all survive this.”
We spend another hour going over details. Backup plans. Contingencies. What to do if we’re discovered early. What to do if the tunnels are blocked. What to do if Selena catches on before we can move.
By the time we finally leave the chapel, dawn is breaking over the ocean. Another day survived. Another day closer to freedom or death.
Erik walks me back to my dorm. We don’t talk. Don’t need to. Everything important has already been said.
At my door, he kisses me one more time. “Get some sleep. You look exhausted.”
“So do you.”
“I’ll sleep when we’re off this island.” He touches my face. “Eight days, Luna. Just eight more days.”
“Eight days,” I repeat. Like a prayer. Like a promise.
He leaves. I slip inside and lock the door behind me.
I should sleep. Should rest while I can. But instead I find myself at the window. Staring out at the ocean. At the endless water that surrounds this island prison.
Somewhere beyond that water is the mainland. Real police. Real justice. People who can help us if we can just reach them.
Eight days.
We only have to survive eight more days.
I touch my lips. Still swollen from Erik’s kisses. Still tingling from the desperate way we came together in that shed. Like we were trying to prove we were alive. That we still had control over something. Even if it was just our own bodies.
The fear is still there. Humming under my skin. But there’s something else now, too.
Determination. Fierce and bright and burning.
Selena thinks she owns us. Thinks she can control us. Thinks we’re just more assets to be cataloged and used.
She’s wrong.
We’re survivors. Fighters. People who’ve already brought down one criminal empire.
We can bring down another.
Eight days until The Harvest.
Eight days until we show Selena Harpsons exactly what happens when you underestimate your prey.
Eight days until the hunters become the hunted.
I finally crawl into bed. Close my eyes. Let exhaustion pull me under.
And for the first time in weeks, I don’t dream of cages and watchers and endless surveillance.
I dream of windows. Of beaches. Of Erik’s hand in mine as we walk into a future we chose for ourselves.
A future where we’re free.