14. Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen
Micah
I take my time walking back to the cabin with two small Northern pikes in my hand. I’ve spent most of my time at the river for the past two days, and Naomi has only been awake for a fraction of that time. She’s been fighting a fever and moaning in her sleep. Twice, I thought she was dead, and twice, I thought about killing her myself and putting her out of her misery. Once last night and once this morning.
I was so close… if she only knew.
London is back with Jade. I’m not entirely sure, but I have a strong feeling that’s where she would have gone, and just thinking about it makes me fucking furious. I stared at her footprints for an hour, playing out what could have happened—how she got free and how she knew where to go after repeatedly warning her not to leave. All signs now confirm that she’s gone. She practically screamed that she didn’t want to be here anymore, and I ignored her.
But deep down, I knew— I fucking knew. That’s why I tied her up.
I’ve been tempted to go and see for myself, but with Naomi’s condition worsening, I couldn’t bring myself to leave for longer than a couple of hours. She’ll die if I do. I also can’t leave her alone with my food and supplies because I don’t fucking trust her, which leaves me in quite the predicament.
I stride to the firepit, grab my knife, drop to my knees, and stab the fish in the eye, gutting it. As I cook, I sit back and wait, playing with the tip of my bone weapon, letting it pierce my flesh and watching as the blood trickles down my skin.
The unsettling part isn’t the choices I’m contemplating; it’s the fact that I’m unbothered by them. Once the thought of killing Naomi entered my mind, it became impossible to erase. It proves that the darkness within me has always existed, and right now, my only connection to humanity revolves around one person.
London.
She is always the one keeping me sane, even if she doesn’t realize it. And Naomi is merely in the way. A problem easily solved.
Eventually, I head inside. I push open the door to the cabin and step inside, staring at Naomi. My emotions are hollow—a dark void somewhere deep within—and I can’t be bothered to find them. Naomi hasn’t moved since I left her, sleeping soundly like a lamb to the slaughter. Her blonde hair is splayed out on the bed, combed and clean because I made it that way.
Fucking helpless.
Goddammit.
My dick gets excited thinking about the times I’ve fucked London right in this spot, as helpless as this girl in front of me who’s moaning in her sleep, and how much I enjoyed London being just as needy.
My groin tightens, and I slide in next to Naomi, checking her fever. I keep my distance and control these intense urges I have as I watch her chest rise and fall in my bed, fantasizing about what it would feel like to take the air from her lungs while simultaneously thinking about fucking her. I’m fully aware of how messed up that is.
I remind myself I’m only turned on because I’m used to getting my dick sucked daily, and right now, the wrong fucking girl is in my bed, even if she’s slowly becoming my backup plan .
Fuck, London. Where are you, baby?
I fall asleep quickly, even though it’s the afternoon. I usually don’t like to waste the daylight hours by sleeping, but I’m fucking tired and clearly not thinking straight.
My eyes shoot open a little while later. My mind is fuzzy, my body alert. I was asleep—a deep fucking sleep—which rarely happens. I can tell Naomi is awake, even without looking, because her energy has shifted. Her head is propped on her hand, and her big brown eyes are scrutinizing me. Her pupils are dilated, but she’s more aware than she’s been since I found her. I turn to face her, seeing she’s been awake for a while.
Her fever broke, and beads of sweat pool over her forehead. I arch my brows, not letting her know she has rattled me. It was so careless to fall asleep without realizing she was awake and alert like this. She could have done anything she wanted to me, and I would have been powerless to stop her.
She parts her lips. “What are you going to do with me now, Micah?” she asks in a tone that’s equally sexual and hostile. She’s wary, as she should be. I don’t recognize myself anymore, either.
I keep my voice even, trying not to scare her yet. “I’m not going to do anything with you right now, Naomi.” Her lips tilt upward, and her eyes flash. Clearly, she’s enjoying this and has no idea that London is the only reason she’s still breathing.
“Why did you bring me here, then?”
I roll over her, pressing my hands on either side of her, and keep my body a healthy distance away. “You’re not going to be the one asking questions, Naomi. Where are Nigel and Ezra? How long had you been away from them when I found you?”
She pauses for a moment before answering, probably thinking long and hard about whether she wants to lie to me right now. “One day, as soon as the weather broke, I left him.”
At the same time I left London. What are the fucking odds ?
“Stop fucking lying, Naomi. Is London with them? Why did you leave them?”
A massive knot forms in my stomach. What if I’m wrong, and I missed something? What if London isn’t with Jade… and she’s been with Ezra and Nigel these last few days? I could never forgive myself for choosing to help Naomi. What if London covered her tracks well enough, then something happened in the forest?
I should have left Naomi at the lake site. The others would have found her eventually.
A flush hits her cheeks, making me feel like she’s lying, and I suppress the urge to resort to physical violence to get her to talk. If London is with Ezra and Nigel, Naomi is the only living person who can help me find her quickly. And she can’t help me if I suck the air out of her lungs.
I lean down so my mouth is close to hers. “Fucking. Tell. Me.”
She stiffens beneath me and bites her lower lip. “I don’t know. How the fuck would I know where London is?”
My eyes narrow. “So, why did you leave them?”
She blinks, keeping her gaze steady, her body warm beneath mine. “We ran out of food,” she admits. “I was trying to find the creek camp, but I didn’t make it. I’m not lying to you, Micah. I would never lie to you. You know how I feel about you.”
Feel … as in present tense.
I lock my gaze with hers, searching her eyes for any sign of lies, and remain silent. My jaw flexes, annoyed that her story is actually adding up. I can tell she isn’t totally lying, but she definitely knows more than she’s letting on, which gives me extreme pause.
She shifts her body and raises her knee between my legs.
Fuck.
I ease the tension and roll off her. She knows me well enough to know I’m turned on right now and is playing it to her advantage. I rise out of bed and pull on a sweater. Grabbing a piece of wood, I start carving. Anything to keep my hands busy and ignore this half-naked girl in my bed.
She pretends to ignore me as she pulls the blanket off her and leans over the bed to grab a new T-shirt that’s not sweat-stained from her fever. I can’t help but watch her change, and when she pulls up, she smirks at me.
It looks like the confident Naomi is back.
She lies down, resting her head on one of the bedposts, and picks at her nails. I side-glance her way as I blow wood dust off my carving, and she looks anything but impressed. Bored almost, even if she still looks pale as a fucking ghost.
“Do you want to fuck me right now?” she eventually asks, not looking up.
I cock my head, steadying my knife. “Nope. I want to know where my girlfriend is.”
“Liar.”
I scoff at her brazenness. “What about Ezra?”
“What about him?”
“Aren’t you with him, Naomi?”
She raises an eyebrow. “Does it look like I’m with him?”
Good point.
Fuck. Naomi will be the death of me.
I flip the knife in my hand, focusing on it instead of her. “I have a girlfriend, Naomi, so get any ideas you have out of your head. Despite her absence right now, I’m still loyal to her.”
She shakes her head. Sitting cross-legged, she begins to comb her hair with her hands. “So, suddenly, you’re loyal to only one girl? Is she the one, Micah? The one who finally tamed you? Because I call bullshit. I will never understand the two of you together. You don’t belong with her. She was Maison’s… and so was Olivia. Why do you go after Maison’s girls?”
This has my stomach turning in on itself. “Who the fuck do you think I belong with, Naomi? You?”
She presses her lips together, and her eyes glaze over. “Look around. You might not have a choice in that matter anymore. You can fight it as long as you want, Micah, but we always get pulled back to each other. No one put a gun to your head to bring me with you when you found me, but here we are. She isn’t here, and you seem rather surprised by that, like maybe she left voluntarily. So maybe you care about me a bit more than you think you do.”
My fingers clench. “You know nothing about my relationship with London, so quit pretending like you do.”
The hurt in her eyes is evident. All that emotion is bundled up and manifests into the look she’s giving me right now.
I never properly ended things with Naomi. I quit talking to her when I realized who I was in love with. I did the same to her when I broke things off with Olivia and tried to use Naomi to make Olivia jealous. I told Naomi I’d date her after I stole her virginity by the urinal to make her feel better.
Finally, after a few seconds, she says, “What do they have that I don’t?”
I blink at her, not really understanding her question or who she is referring to. I cross my arms and say nothing.
After Olivia died and I came back to New Ocean, my anger got the better of me, and I hated seeing how happy everyone was. I started fucking Naomi again to see if that would make me feel alive and to get revenge on Ezra for stealing my glory goal and basically a whole hockey season from me. But it didn’t work; I was still tortured inside. It wasn’t fair to her, and I guess it was a harsh punishment for Ezra.
“Olivia and London,” she responds carefully, knowing I probably look confused. “You chose them over me. Did you not like having sex with me? Am I not pretty enough for you?”
I shake my head and sit on the side of the bed. As much as I don’t want to have this conversation, it seems like it’s happening, and the last thing I want is to upset her. “You’re a gorgeous girl, Naomi. You know that, though.”
She folds her arms as if suddenly feeling self-conscious that she’s throwing herself at me again and that I’m denying her. “So what is it, then?”
“Naomi. Don’t do this.”
She purses her lips. “I want to understand… I thought, after the Gala, before all that Olivia shit, you said… You lied to me, Micah. And I didn’t deserve that. ”
I lean up and place the blanket over her tits to hide her naked body and to help distract the physical response to her I shouldn’t be having.
She rolls to her side and lets me tuck her in. “Were you having sex with her at the same time as me?”
I lower my eyes and draw my hand back. “Yeah.”
Her eyes widen at my sudden admission. “Do you even know which her I’m referring to right now?”
“No,” I admit.
Shit … I really don’t. I was screwing Naomi when I first became attracted to London. When London watched me with Naomi in the woods, I knew right then that I wanted her and it was the wrong girl pleasuring me. I could tell how much London wanted me then, even if she didn’t know it yet.
Naomi kicks at me. “Fuck you, Micah. Just fuck you.”
She looks tired and pale, and right now, I don’t have the energy for this shit, and I certainly do not want to have this conversation.
I crawl in next to her as she lays her head on the bed, defeated, refusing to look at me. “You need some water and rest.” I grab the bottle I left near the bed and lift her head. She takes a tiny sip and sinks back down on the bed, her eyes locked on the outside. Her eyes are still sunk deep into her face and blood-shot. She’s far from the healthy and vibrant girl I had considered a friend. I help her get more comfortable, covering her with an oversized sweater.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
She nods hesitantly but still refuses to look at me.
I’m not sure when she ate for the last time, so I hand her a piece of leftover fish and give her some space to eat it, sitting on the edge of the bed with my elbows on my knees.
“Eat up, Naomi. Because as soon as you’re feeling better, we’re leaving,” I say, turning to face her.
Her eyes widen. “Where are we going?”
“You are going to show me exactly where your boyfriend is hiding.”
She blinks at me a few times before taking a bite of fish like it’s poison. The opposite of London, who would have ripped that fish out of my hands to get her teeth on it. “Are you going to hurt him again?”
“That depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“It depends on whether you’re lying to me right now.”
After two days, Naomi’s health shows signs of improvement. I feed her what I can, which isn’t much since the fish aren’t biting and having her is throwing me off my game. I’ve been tense, more than usual, missing the fuck out of my girlfriend and wishing she was in front of me so I could apologize, worship her, and make everything right.
A warm breeze brushes my skin as I crouch and watch the furry squirrel eying the bait I set inside the wire trap a few minutes earlier.
That’s right, eat the bait, you little fucker.
I followed the critter for an hour, waiting for the perfect moment to place my trap to catch it. The hunger pains are constant, but it’s my desire to hunt and kill something with my bare hands that drives me. Maybe then, this void in my heart will be filled, and this relentless craving that has taken over me will finally be satisfied.
I’ve been avoiding spending too much time with Naomi because the intensity of this feeling is growing. Every time I hold my knife, slicing little pieces off the wood, I’m drawn to the graceful curve of her neck as she swallows and watches me from her deathbed, drilling me with a death glare of her own. If she only recognized the insidiousness of my thoughts.
The snow is melting more every day. I hold on to the hope that London will walk up through the shadows of the trees and come back to me. Now that spring has arrived, more animals are out. The birds are migrating, so the forest is much more cheery and alive . I bet London would love it right now after being cooped up inside for so long. I wish I could show her all the species of birds that live in these woods. I want to prove to her that life with me isn’t terrible and that she didn’t have to leave. Anything to go back and do things differently so she was still here with me.
As time goes on since I’ve been away from her, I’ve gotten more withdrawn, enjoying the quiet of the wilderness a little too much. I’m slowly starting to become one with it, losing myself in it—not caring about anything past the hum of the forest or planning my next kill. I lurk around these woods, studying every branch and every paw print in the mud of an animal that will eventually become my prey.
I’ve lost sight of the squirrel, but it will be back—the smell of fish is too enticing. I’m not bothered; I can easily sit for hours in silence, merely existing in my domain.
Watching… Waiting… Hunting. It’s what I live for.
Sometimes, I hardly notice if I’m breathing. Anytime I hear Maison, I expel him from my mind.
The squirrel squeaks as it scurries across the ground right in front of me while I lie on my stomach in wait. It notices me and seems unbothered, and I stay utterly still. It stops, waits… twitches its face.
As soon as it gets tangled up in my little web of wire and takes my bait, it’s mine. My stomach grumbles thinking about it, and I push that sensation out of my mind, too. I have to be stronger than the forces that work against me. I have to be stronger than everything else and not let something as trivial as hunger weaken me, and to do that, I must transcend.
I still have enough canned food to last me at least six more months if I don’t eat it. Theoretically, I could last another winter. The problem is everyone else still breathing who will want it, and I’m not giving it up—over my dead body.
Finally, the squirrel bites, and I almost miss it. I regain my focus on its speckled tail long enough for me to pounce. I catch it and jab my bone weapon right into it. The kill wasn’t satisfying enough, though.
I need something bigger next time .
I grab my meal and head back to Naomi. A coiling rage burns inside me for reasons I can’t fathom right now. Of course, she’s sleeping, but I note the fresh firewood piled up nearby. She was always better at gathering firewood than London. London, however, is better at other things…
She sits up, and her gaze cuts to me when I walk in. “Where were you, Micah? You were gone for four hours. I thought you weren’t coming back.”
I almost didn’t. I spent two of those hours contemplating whether I should just cure this desire by jumping into the river. The problem, I’m realizing, is that there are few desirable ways to kill yourself on a deserted island—none that would be efficient enough for me.
I let the wooden door slam behind me as I walk in.
She jolts back. “What’s wrong with you?”
I’m getting really fucking sick of people asking me that.
I cock my head. “Sorry, sweetheart. I don’t answer to you. I apologize if life with me is not what you were expecting.”
Apparently, it wasn’t for London, either.
I pull off my sweater, and her eyes draw down to my abs. I’ve lost a touch of weight, although I am still strong and as lean as I used to be. I ignore her lingering eyes and crawl in next to her. When we sleep at the same time, which is rare, it’s in the same bed, but I make sure not to touch her, even though she’s pressed right up against me every morning. I usually wake up earlier than her and slip out of bed before she can try anything. Luckily, she’s been too tired and weak to do much other than sleep a lot.
I don’t berate her about where Nigel and Ezra are hiding, but she continues to endlessly whine and complain about literally everything. Those are the moments when I think the most about putting an end to her misery.
She asks why I won’t tell her where I’m hiding the food or why I won’t feed her any of it.
She complains that she’s cold and tired. And that the shack smells funny, that London’s things are everywhere, and how that’s weird for her.
And, and, and …
Fucking hell. If I end up spending the end of my days with Naomi, I’ll have to teach her to shut up. I’m not sure why Ezra is so obsessed with her.
I turn to face her, and my heart sinks when I see her cheeks are tear-stained. Fuck, I hate seeing girls cry. Seeing them emotional is my Achilles heel and the only reason that keeps me from believing I’m a total asshole.
I arch a brow at her, giving her my brooding gaze that makes her swoon. “I’m sorry, Naomi. I really am. I’m just really fucked up.”
She doesn’t smile; she radiates nothing but ice-cold contempt toward me. However, the color is back in her face, her edges are filled in, and her hair has regained a layer of gloss. She’s still so mad at me for rejecting her, and I honestly don’t blame her, but she can’t deny that she’s healthy. It seems I have a knack for leaving emotional scars on girls, but physically, they are in bliss when they are with me.
London was no different.
Seeing her in London’s tight-fitting tank top makes my jaw clench. My stomach twists, thinking about all the times I’ve admired London in it over these past few months. However, the tank top is not the same on Naomi because her tits aren’t nearly as fucking nice as London’s. Which serves as yet another reminder of how badly I’ve fucked up.
London wore it on the plane, and it took every ounce of control not to reach out and touch her—to see if this girl was real. She thought I was tense because I was angry, which I was, but my physical reaction to her started then. She looked so fucking good standing there, scowling at me, and she didn’t even realize it. That’s what I love the most about London; she doesn’t have to try hard to look good because she’s gorgeous all the time.
I can’t help but stare at Naomi’s tits anyway.
Naomi notices and her energy shifts, which is the exact response I need from her. “So, what do we do now?” she asks cautiously.
I shift my eyes up to meet hers. “I need you to show me where Ezra’s hiding. ”
She shakes her head. “No. I can’t do that, Micah. Not after what you did to his hand. I may not want to be with him anymore, but I don’t want you to kill or hurt him again.”
I wish I could guess exactly where London went so I could go directly to her and not waste any more time than I already have with Naomi and her bullshit. The other side of the island is calling me. Something is itching at me, telling me it’s where I need to go first. For that, I need Naomi to cooperate. And since she responds much better to honey than poison…
I sweep the hair falling into her face and brush it behind her ears. “You have to show me, Naomi. You don’t have a choice.”
She lowers her gaze to my lips, then back to my eyes. Her expression is pained and confused, with a flicker of hesitation. “What is it about her, Micah? It could be us, the future you’re imagining right now. I’ve never left you. I’ve never wavered in my feelings for you. You were always my first choice. Can you say the same thing about her?”
I regret messing around with Naomi in the early days of being stranded here. My motive was one of pure jealousy, ignited by witnessing Maison’s connection with London. London’s wandering eyes in the forest filled that hollowness inside me. She wanted me, and I wanted her to want me. I was manipulating Naomi then, and I’m manipulating her now.
She grabs my wrist, then laces my fingers in her hand before twisting them above my head and straddling me.
Fuck. She was always good at playing games, too.
“ Naomi,” I warn.
“Micah,” she whispers, lips tickling my cheek and pressing her chest against me. “London’s gone… She left you.”
I move my hands to her hips to push her off me, but she doubles down on her grip on my thighs. And fuck me, considering she was nearly dead three days ago, she’s strong.
I shake my head, even though I can’t dispute what she’s saying. “You don’t know that. ”
She runs her hand over my cheek. “Micah, I’m here now. This is your reality.”
This reminds me so much of Olivia. How Olivia acted when she was manipulating me, and I couldn’t see past her pussy. I’d like to think I’ve grown since then.
Olivia ruined me.
She slides down like a worm, pulling my sweats down with her. My fucking cock is hard, betraying me from her grinding on it, and she moves to take it in her mouth. I close my eyes as it throbs, and Naomi expertly cups it in her hands. I drop my hands, not knowing where to place them.
“You have to stop this, Naomi.” I push her just out of reach because if her lips make contact, it’s a line I can’t uncross.
She knows what I like. Part of me wants to let her do this. My cock twinges just thinking about it and how easy it would be to just let Naomi suck it, as she has so many times before. My body craves it even now.
Just not from her.
Fuck.
London’s not here. London fucking left me, but every ounce of me is screaming no, that I need to go find her. This is Naomi’s desperate attempt to stay here with me. There is no way this is what I want right now.
She narrows her eyes and fidgets beneath my grip. “Don’t feel guilty,” she says, peering up at me through her lashes. “I’ll do that thing you like with my tongue.” Fire blazes in her eyes. “She was never yours, Micah. She was Maison’s girlfriend, just like Olivia was. Now she’s gone, and you’re stuck with me.”
I whip her around and slam her on the bed, my hard-on immediately subsiding. This is the girl who beat the shit out of London for no good reason. I won’t betray London like this, whether she’s dead or alive. No fucking way. I’ve already let it go too far.
“She is mine, Naomi,” I hiss. “She is mine like no other girl has ever been. Not you, not Olivia, not anyone, and I will fucking move mountains to get her back. ”
She startles and stiffens, her eyes like saucers. “It sure seems like it,” she scoffs.
I grip her brittle shoulders with my hands and narrow my eyes. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Naomi? I’ve treated you like trash for three years. Don’t you have any fucking dignity?”
The pain in her eyes surprises me. Like she actually thinks she has a chance.
She laughs darkly. “There you are, Micah. I thought you went all soft on me.”
I shake her. “Is this a fucking joke to you? You’re not telling me the full story of what happened between you and Ezra, so start fucking talking.”
She loves it when I get like this. She constantly tries to pull this reaction out of me; she seeks it out. It’s not reciprocated. No more teasing, no more games. I don’t want Naomi Wilson, nor do I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I have to find London.
“I have nothing left but my sense of humor, Micah. Because, apparently, you stole my dignity along with my virginity. Which, if I recall, you enjoyed doing.”
I ease my grip and tense my jaw. I’m playing right into her games because when I get mad, I get horny, and she is fully aware of that.
“Don’t test me, or I’ll abandon you in the woods somewhere. If you don’t start talking, you’ll end up dead because I won’t take care of you anymore. I’ll drop you in the most remote place I can find, and I’ll get the fuck away from you.”
“I told you. We ran out of food,” she snarls. “I had no choice but to leave him. He wouldn’t exactly have been welcome anywhere else. I wasn’t in the mood to die, so I left him to find the others. I told him I’d be back… and I just never went back.”
She pauses for a moment, a break in her thoughts. “Their plan has always been to find you and take her from you to get you to give up the location of your food. They got your location from Jade. ”
I listen, pause, and consider, even though this information isn’t new to me. What I didn’t realize was that Naomi was in on it, which changes everything.
“And your plan, Naomi?”
She slides her eyes to mine, meeting my gaze with fury. “Does it seem like I have a fucking plan?” Her eyes flash with pain. “You won’t hurt me, Micah. You can pretend all you want, but we both know you won’t.”
Heat rolls through my stomach. She has no fucking clue how many times I’ve thought about killing her these past few days and how I might even enjoy it. Or how many times I’ve thought about killing myself. I’m turning into a monster. Slowly, day by day, I’m drowning in my darkness as I always knew I would.
I lean forward and cup her cheek, grazing my thumb along her neck. She swallows, and her face goes white.
“Yeah, Naomi, I would hurt you,” I whisper, “and that’s what you are not quite comprehending.”
I rise and pull her up. She fights me but gets on her feet, and I start to yank her forward. “Come on. Get fucking dressed. We’re leaving now.”
“What do I get out of it?” she snaps, scrambling to put some clothes on and slapping my hand. “If I tell you where they are, what are you going to do with me?”
There she is… This was never about me or her fake feelings for me. She can’t be fucking pathetic enough to still want me this badly after the way I treated her. This was planned… meticulously fucking planned. I walked right into it, and now London is probably with some seriously deranged, starving lunatics—one of which killed my brother in cold blood.
I throw on some warm clothes and stuff an extra sweater in my pack, then grab my knife and my bone weapon. I forcefully push Naomi out the door before she even has a chance to blink. “I swear to god, Naomi, if this is some sort of game or trap to lure me away from here, or if they hurt London… I will kill you.”