Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59739 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59739 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
He says it low, so low I wonder if I’m just imagining it.
I swallow, my throat burning.
“For whatever it’s worth, and I’m sure that is fuckin’ nothin’,” he goes on, “but I wouldn’t have done it. When I signed up, I was desperate to help my family, the only family I knew. Then I met you, and...I wouldn’t have done it. I would have found a way to get you all safe.”
I squeeze my eyes closed, my feelings stirring deep inside me. “I...I can’t do this tonight.” My voice cracks at the end and I decide that’s it—I’m done fighting, at least for tonight.
The exhaustion is too much.
The hand with the rag pulls away a second, then returns softer than before. “That’s fine, but I’m not leaving. Not while you’re like this.” The words dangle there, and I don’t trust myself to answer, because if I open my mouth I know it’ll just be more pointless words or worse, something that sounds like hope.
Instead, I let go. I let the exhaustion pull me under. I don’t know if I’m asleep or dreaming, but as I drift, I swear I hear his voice again, quieter than the rain outside and almost gentle. “I’m right here, Gracie. I won’t hurt you again.”
And in that weightless moment, I let myself believe him.
4
“SHE’S BURNING UP. THIS isn’t good, Ace.”
The soft hum of Tatiana’s voice fills my ears, as if we’re on a cloud floating into nowhere, in a blissful dream. My body feels heavy, though, like I simply couldn’t lift it if I tried.
“I fuckin’ know that, Tati. What I need to know is what the hell is going on with her.”
“I got everything you asked for,” Aggie’s voice appears. “What exactly is the plan here?”
“You’ll see. Just gather everything I packed, we can’t stay here. It’s too fuckin’ cold.”
A warm hand gently slaps at my face, rousing me.
My eyes flutter open, and my head spins as I focus on the three people leaning over me. I have been like this for days, coming in and out of this fever-induced daze. When I’m in it, it feels like the world can’t touch me, but when I come out, it’s like my body is on fire. I groan, the sky too bright even though it is cloudy and raining.
“Hey,” Ace says, fingers curled around my chin as he takes me in. “We’re goin’ to move you.”
Move me?
Where.
“Huh?” I croak.
Ace doesn’t let me think about it for long. He hooks his arms beneath my knees and back and lifts me like I weigh nothing. I try to protest, but the motion tilts the whole world and makes my eyes pinch closed. “We’re not goin’ far,” he rumbles near my ear. “Just somewhere better.”
Better?
I thought we found the best spot on this island.
Tatiana, Aggie, and Rachel hurry after us, each loaded down with bags made from old towels and pieces of fabric, dragging all the crap Ace must have ordered them to collect. I watch the grey sky move quickly above Ace’s shoulder, then the sudden block of canopy as he pivots off the trail and into the trees. Water drips down on my face. Cool, at first, almost a relief.
Ace keeps moving, winding deeper into the woods. The wind drops away as soon as the trees close in, and it’s the only time I notice how loud the ocean really is—like an airport in the next room, persistent and dull. My head rocks against his chest, which doesn’t even flex when I cough. I can’t help but think how completely, absolutely safe I feel here.
But thinking that? It just opens the wound of missing him, which is the last thing I need.
We pass around a thicket, and I catch a flash of movement: Adrian, sitting alone on a blackened log, arms crossed. His eyes are distant, drifting somewhere far off, like he’s already gone home in his mind. He doesn’t look up until the whole party tramps by.
His mouth twitches. “Why didn’t you carry me like that, Ace?”
Ace grunts.
Adrian stands, using his makeshift crutch to hobble after us. “Where are you even going?”
Ace’s answer is a shrug, a jerk of his chin into the trees. “You wanna know, follow.”
The trail narrows and the world gets darker. I lose track of time, drifting in and out. A memory surfaces: my dad, carrying me out of my ballet school when I sprained my ankle in a competition and couldn’t finish it. The way he didn’t say a word, just hoisted me into the car and drove in silence, eyes straight ahead. The disappointment radiating across his face. I clench my jaw, push the memory down.
Ace stops.
There’s a scraping noise, then a curse as he almost loses his footing on wet stone, but he corrects, then steps through a curtain of vines. The world opens up, and I blink, confused by the sudden brightness and the clearing around us. It’s not a clearing, exactly—just a patch of less-dense trees, sheltered by an overhanging rock. And right in the centre is a small shack.