Page 13 of Hunted (Desert Island Duet #2)

“I was worried about you. Weston said I had to stay here.”

His eyes soften at her confession, and he rubs her back, staying silent. Eventually, they pull apart and she turns to me.

“You weren’t there when I woke up.”

“I—”

“You made me promise to not leave while you were asleep, so you have to do the same,” she demands, as she comes to stand a few feet in front of me, crossing her arms over her chest with an adorable frown on her face.

I try not to let my amusement show but my lips twitch in protest before I finally cave in. “Alright, Darla. I promise not to leave while you’re sleeping.”

“Good.” She nods her head, then steps forward and hugs me gently. I return the hug, and all too soon, she pulls back and glances behind us. “No rescue yet, huh?”

I shake my head and frown. No sign of rescue, which is concerning. They’ll be here today, I’m sure of it.

“No, but Reece has something you might like even more.” King smirks, nodding to me .

I reach into my bag and pull out her rock, holding it out to her with both hands. I watch as her eyes turn from confusion to shock, then they fill with tears as she grabs it and clutches it to her chest like it’s the most valuable thing in the world.

“Steve!” she exclaims, holding it tight. Then she steps towards me again, using one arm to hug me. “Thank you, Reece.”

I stay silent, hugging her back as she sniffles against me.

“You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Deciding to use this opportunity to try and get to know more about her, I pull back, gripping the sides of her arms gently in my hands as I look down at her. “You’re right, I don’t. Will you tell me?”

A sliver of fear crosses her face before she looks down at her rock. Not wanting her to be upset, I try to put her at ease. “You don’t have to, of course.”

“No, I… um… I think I can tell you.” She turns to look at each of the other three, a look of nervousness on her face as she bites her lips. “I think I’m ready to tell you guys the full story now.”

My brows pinch in confusion. I assumed they knew everything about her past. What else was she keeping from them?

King gestures to the rocks around the campfire area. “Why don’t we all sit down?”

We all take a seat around the firepit as she watches us carefully.

“Baby, why don’t you sit here?” West says, patting the spot beside him.

She shakes her head and starts pacing in front of us, Steve still clutched to her chest. “No, I think I need to do this standing. I might break down if one of you tries to comfort me before I get it all out.”

“Whenever you’re ready, Tink.” Bower nods to her and we all sit, anxiously waiting for whatever it is she’s about to say.

I literally have no idea what she’s about to reveal to us, but I have a feeling it isn’t good.

The guys keep indicating she’s had a rough time, as if being stranded alone for fifteen fucking years isn’t nightmare enough.

“When my dad and I first arrived here, we were completely alone.

He taught me how to hunt boar and prep them for eating.

He showed me how to hunt rabbits. We worked on the first hut together, deciding it needed to be in the trees so no boars would wander in while we were sleeping or damage our stuff.

“It was hard, being stranded here, but my dad was awesome.” She looks at me with a small smile. “You remember what he was like? He was always so calm and controlled. He always made me feel safe and secure, even out here.”

I nod my head, remembering him like that. Where my dad would lose his temper and often treat me like a disappointment, her dad was calm and always spoke to both of us with words of encouragement and appreciation.

“We’d been here for about four months when they arrived.”

My gut clenches at those words, a bad feeling settling deep within me as I curl my hands into fists and try to stay calm. I need to hear the full story.

“There were three of them. They didn’t speak English.” She glances at West who nods.

“I believe they were Samoan pirates.” He turns to me. “I saw a notebook that belonged to them, and I'm pretty sure it was written in Samoan.”

I give him a curt nod, not liking where this story is going. He turns back to her, and she continues .

“We didn’t know that back then. They seemed to want to help us. They had pistols and knives, which helped with hunting and building. But…” she trails off, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before she continues.

“We knew there was something off about them. My dad never left me alone. He wouldn’t even let me out of his sight.

Only a tree ever separated us when we needed to relieve ourselves.

He told me he didn't trust them and that I needed to be extremely careful to never leave his side. I didn’t argue because they gave me the creeps. ”

She stops her pacing and stares down at the empty fire pit, whispering, “It started right here.”

My heart drops, terrified of her next words. Did they kill her dad right in front of her?

“My dad and I were gathering wood to start the fire when one of them grabbed my arm and yanked me back. I screamed, and my dad swung a branch at his back. He released me to deal with my dad, who yelled for me to run. I did as I was told and heard him running right behind me. I decided moving through the jungle would give us a better chance of getting away than the path. Back then, I wasn’t very good at climbing yet. I was too slow.”

She clutches her rock harder to her chest as she starts pacing again.

“I heard my dad cry out, and I turned around, seeing one of the men, who was much larger than my dad, dragging him back through the jungle. I screamed his name, and he told me to run, but before I could move, the other two grabbed me. I kicked and screamed as they carried me to a small clearing in the jungle where the other man stood with my dad. He—”

She breaks off, swallowing heavily as her eyes glisten with unshed tears.

“He held a knife to his throat as he watched me. I couldn’t understand their words, but their threats and intentions were clear. If I struggled, they’d kill my dad.”

I feel all the blood leave my face as the true depth of her trauma starts to form in my mind.

Please don’t let it be true.

I glance at the others, but their eyes are all fixed on Darla. But by the pained looks on their faces, they know where this story is going, and it’s not good.

“The two men ripped my clothes from my body and forced themselves on me.”

I drop my head to my hands, closing my eyes tight as my body trembles.

“They made my dad w-watch.”

Her voice breaks on the last word, and I can’t stop myself from cursing. “Fuck!” My worst nightmare has been confirmed.

“Then they slit his throat.” My body tries to leap to my feet in rage, but I hold myself still, knowing this may be the only time she ever tells this story, and I need to hear all of it.

“I… I lost it. I screamed and kicked one of them between the legs. I tried to find something… anything, to use as a weapon. I remember begging God to help me, and that’s when I saw it.”

She stops pacing and pulls her rock away from her chest, staring down at it with a haunted expression in her eyes.

“I saw this rock. I grabbed it and swung around fast. One of the men had been bending over to grab me so I managed to hit him in the side of the head. After that… ”

She trails off, running her finger over Steve’s name as she swallows heavily again.

“After that, I don't remember what happened. I just remember coming to, and they were all dead. I was covered in blood. I saw my dad’s body and crawled over to him, begging him to still be alive.”

She pulls the rock back to her chest and closes her eyes again. A single tear rolls down her cheek and it takes everything I have not to go to her right now.

“Of course, he wasn’t. I… I shattered in that moment. I don’t know how long I stayed there, wishing for none of that to be true. I must have cried myself to sleep, and when I woke up, nothing had changed. I saw the blood on my hands and freaked out, running to the ocean to get it off me.”

She stops pacing and quickly glances at all of us before looking back down at her rock.

“It took me a couple days, but I managed to pull myself together, knowing I needed to take care of the bodies. They were too close to camp to just leave there. I buried my dad and dumped the other men in that cave.” She glances at the other three, who nod in understanding.

“I put all their stuff there, too, not wanting to see any of it again. But I kept one knife.” She pulls her knife out from her sheath and turns it from side to side.

“McStabby,” Bower says quietly, and she nods.

“I thought giving him a fun name would help me forget who he belonged to.”

“Did it work?” I ask, unable to keep quiet any longer.

She glances at me and shrugs, her eyes returning to her knife. “Mostly. At first it was hard, but I knew not having a knife would make my life here even more difficult, so it was worth it.”

“Is that…” King trails off, unable to finish his question, and she nods.

“It’s the knife that killed my dad. I knew he’d tell me to keep it. That practicality and survival were more important. So I cleaned it and kept it.”

“Fucking hell,” Bower whispers, running his fingers through his hair in agitation. I know the feeling.

“You dragged three full-grown men all the way through the jungle to that cave?” West asks, awe filling his voice.

She nods, returning her knife to her sheath.

“After I had dealt with the bodies, I went back to make sure nothing was left and that’s when I saw Steve.

I don’t know why I picked him up. But I felt like God had put him in my path to help me, and that made him special, so I wanted to keep him close.

He helped me when I had no one. So I cleaned him up and gave him a name.

Whenever I held him, he made me feel safer. ”

I swallow heavily, finally understanding the true extent of her relationship with her rock… with Steve.

“There was a storm when it happened, wasn’t there?” West asks, making me look at him in confusion. She never mentioned any storm.

She looks at him in alarm, then slowly shakes her head. His brows furrow as he seems to consider her.

“Zee…” he says slowly. “Did something else happen?”

She avoids his eyes, looking guilty as she replies, “I don’t know what you mean. ”

He turns to me and asks, “Was she afraid of storms before she came here?”

“No, why?”

He looks back at her as he asks again, “Zee, what happened during the storm?”

She shakes her head fast, a few stray tears rolling down her cheeks as she whispers, “Don’t ask me that.”

My eyes widen in confusion and fear.

What could she be hiding that’s worse than being raped in front of her own father?

West watches her for a few seconds before he nods and gets to his feet. “Okay, you don’t have to answer.” He steps up to her and hugs her tightly against him. “I’m so proud of you for telling us all of that. Just know you’re safe now. We’ve got you.”

I slowly stand, feeling so much tension within myself that I think I might explode if I don’t release it. Where’s a damn punching bag when you need one?

“I’ll be back in a couple minutes,” I mutter, quickly heading out of camp and back to the beach. I am beyond grateful when I see nobody is following me. I don't want to be near anyone right now.

My mind reels through everything I just learned. She was raped . My sweet girl was fucking raped . Not only that, but it was by three dirty pirates who forced her dad to watch. I shake my head, unable to comprehend how frightened and scared she was in that moment.

I reach the beach and walk a little further away from camp before I drop down in the sand and pound my fist against it. It hurts, but it’s better than giving a tree my right hook and breaking a bone .

I start to throw punches from both hands, my speed increasing as thoughts of thirteen-year-old Darla being assaulted flood my mind. Before I know it, I’m screaming into my hands, trying to muffle my rage, not wanting her to hear me.

I feel moisture on my fingers and pull back, expecting to see blood, but it’s just… wet. I touch my cheeks and realize I’m crying. I never fucking cry.

Feeling angry at myself for showing such weakness, I try to wipe away my tears.

I knew she’d gone through something, the others kept alluding to it, but that … Never would I have guessed something that wretched had happened to her. And what was all of that about a storm scaring her? What the fuck else happened to my girl?

Growling in frustration, I raise my head slowly. Movement catches my attention to the left, and when I see what it is, my eyes go wide in surprise.

“Who the fuck are you?”