Page 5 of Hunted (Desert Island Duet #2)

Chapter five

Darla

I jerk awake, my eyes scanning the dark surroundings as I try to figure out where I am. It takes a minute, but as my eyes adjust to the darkness of the jungle, I realize I’m in a tree. I was cuddling Mo-Mo. I look down but he’s gone, long gone judging by the coolness of my legs.

What woke me?

“Darla!” My head jerks to the side where Reece’s voice came from.

What the hell is he doing out here this late? He’s never even been in this area before. He’s likely to hurt himself tripping over a root or something.

Being extra careful, I slowly extricate myself from my sleeping spot and start to climb down.

“Zee!” It’s Weston’s voice I hear now, and it sounds like he’s right below me.

“Weston?” I call down, trying to focus on where I’m placing my hands.

“Baby, where are you? I can’t see you.”

“I’m climbing down.”

“Be careful, take your time,” he says calmly .

“Darla!” Reece calls, sounding frantic, the sound of his feet getting louder as he joins Weston somewhere below me.

“Stop yelling, you’ll make her fall,” Weston scolds him.

“You were yelling, too,” he snaps back.

“For fuck’s sake Reece, shut up.”

I try not to roll my eyes as their arguing continues below. There’re a few times I get stuck, unable to find the next branch below me, but eventually I make my way down to them.

I squeak in surprise when I’m plucked from the tree by my waist by a pair of large, firm hands. Instead of setting me down, Weston turns me around and hugs me against him, kissing my head as he mumbles, “You scared me, please don’t go off at night again.”

“I’m sorry. I just needed to get away from—”

“From me,” Reece says from my side. Weston places me on my feet, and I turn to face my former best friend. Or is he still my best friend?

He stares at me, and even in the dark moonlight, I see a storm of expressions on his face. Worry, frustration, longing, agitation. I'm just not sure which emotion will win out right now.

“There was a time when you’d run to me when you were upset, not away from me,” he says with a pained look in his eyes.

“You’ve never yelled at me before, not like that.” My fingers fidget with my sheath at my side out of habit.

“I know, fuck, Darla… I know ,” he says, pushing his hair back from his face and letting out an exhale of frustration.

“This whole thing is just… I’m trying to wrap my head around it, alright?

I thought you were dead, but you’ve been here this whole time!

” He throws up his hands in frustration, turning in a slow circle as if trying to pull himself back under control .

Weston rubs his large palm around my lower back, where my skin is exposed, warming me and reminding me he’s still here.

“You’re… mad at me for being stuck here?” I ask in confusion.

He turns quickly back to face me, a look of fear on his face. “Fuck, no. I’m mad I didn’t know, I’m mad I wasn’t looking for you! I could have brought you home years ago.”

“Reece… you were only thirteen.”

“So were you,” he says softly, stepping up to me, his hands lightly gripping me by my arms. “So were you, and you had no one. I should have been here for you. It was my job to take care of you, and I failed.”

His grip tightens on my arms, and when I realize his anger is aimed at himself, not me, it softens something inside me. The frustration I’ve been clinging to since he first yelled at me in the hut begins to slip away.

Wanting to bridge that gap between us, I reach up and run my hand over his cheek and his clean-shaven jaw.

His face is so familiar, and yet… different.

The soft lines have hardened, his eyes hold so much more knowledge and pain, and his mouth…

it’s more mesmerizing than I remember. Maurice Benson has grown up well.

His hand covers mine, holding it against his cheek as he leans into my touch.

“Reece, you can’t blame yourself. You’re here now and all we can do is move on.”

“You’ll give me another chance?” he asks eagerly.

A smile covers my mouth as I look up at him. “What kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t?”

“Best friend, huh?” he asks, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, reminding me of the boy I knew so well.

I shrug, unsure what to say. We had been so much more to each other once, but now we are strangers to the people we have become.

I’m scared that when he sees everything I have buried, all the darkness I carry, he won’t want me anymore.

“Can this best friend get a hug? Or is that—” I cut him off by stepping forward and wrapping my arms around his waist, pressing myself tightly against him. I turn my head to the side and close my eyes.

It doesn’t take him long to hug me back, one hand holding me against his chest as his lips graze my forehead in a tender kiss.

We’re both silent as we finally embrace one another, and I’m thankful Weston is giving us this moment together.

Of course, Reece has to ruin the silence by speaking. “You shrunk.”

I push back from him, a playful gasp escaping my lips. “I did not! Don’t blame me because you grew too tall!”

“Pft! There’s no such thing, you’re just jealous of my height.”

My lips twitch in amusement as I get a glimpse of the boy I used to know.

“Why? Is it better air quality up there or something?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Actually, yes.”

“Alright, you two. Now you’ve made up, we should go back to camp, where it’s safe,” Weston says, placing his hand on my lower back.

“Want me to carry you? You’re not wearing any shoes,” Reece points out.

I raise an eyebrow and look at Weston, as if to ask, “Is this guy serious?”

“I haven’t worn shoes in fifteen years, Reece.”

"Oh." I hadn't meant to make him feel bad, so I take his hand and gently pull him toward camp, his warm palm enveloping mine .

“How about you make sure I don’t step on anything dangerous?” I ask, and he nods his head, a look of determination on his face as his eyes scan the dark ground ahead of us.

Weston grabs my other hand, and I turn to look up at him. He gives me a wink, and I hold in my laughter. At least he knows I’m doing this purely for Reece’s benefit, and not my own.

I think it will take Reece awhile to separate the thirteen-year-old girl who screamed at the sight of a spider, with the new version of me.

A lump forms in my throat and I try to swallow it down.

When he does start to see who I am now, what will he think?

What if he sees me but decides to walk away?

I know I have the others, but we’re all connected now.

Bower and Kingsley work and live with him.

That’s not something they could just walk away from, nor would I let them.

“Watch out for that root,” Reece says, pointing to a root that is several feet out of my path.

I nod my head anyway and pretend to alter my steps to avoid it, even though I was nowhere near it.

He continues pointing out things that are anything but tripping hazards for me, but Weston and I keep our thoughts to ourselves.

If this makes Reece feel better, then so be it.

Weston, Bower, and Kingsley still get mad when I jump off of the skywalk. I wonder how Reece would react?

Weston directs us to turn as we reach the path to the hut. “We’re back!” he yells when we reach the ladder.

I hear some footsteps above as Reece and Weston direct me to climb up first, both their hands on me as if they don’t think I can do it on my own.

I roll my eyes, but a large part of me enjoys their attention. It’s nice to be cared about .

“Did you find her?” Bower asks as the sounds of them moving above reach my ears.

“Yeah, she’s climbing up now,” Reece answers.

When I reach the top, two sets of hands pull me up the rest of the way. Why does everyone think I’m so incapable of moving around in the dark? I’ve been doing this way longer than they have.

“Glad you’re back, sweetheart,” Kingsley says, pulling me in for a quick hug before Bower pulls me into his arms and carries me into the hut.

“You gotta stop running away from us, Tink. It drives us all nuts!”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“Don’t apologize, we get it. Reece was being an asshole. Let’s just get you comfy for bed, shall we?”

He sets me down and my eyes try to adjust to the darkness. Without the moonlight above us, it’s even darker here than it was outside.

His fingers graze my sides, making me jump as I giggle. “No tickling!”

His fingers press in harder as he chuckles. “Sorry, Tink. It’s hard to see. Arms up.”

I hesitate only a moment, but my back is to the door, and it’s so dark in here, I doubt even Bower can see much.

His hands slide up my sides, pulling my top up as he goes. I hear it land on the table then the soft rustle of fabric as he must grab my AC/DC shirt. When a few seconds pass and nothing happens, I start to lower my arms.

“Bower?” I ask, my hands reaching in front of me to make sure he’s still there.

He grabs my hands and gives them a squeeze. “Sorry, I was distracted.” My cheeks heat as my mind dips into the gutter. Can he see me? Before I can pull back and cover up, the shirt glides over my hands and arms as he quickly pulls it down, covering me.

“I’m going to take your skirt off and put the boxers on you now, okay?”

I nod my head and lick my lips. Then realizing he can’t see me, I quickly add, “Yes.” I should tell him I can do it myself.

I should tell him it’s much easier for me to do since he can’t see what he’s doing.

But I don’t. I keep my mouth shut because I like him taking care of me. I like his hands on me.

And if I’m not mistaken by the slowness and care he takes sliding my skirt down my legs, he likes it, too. My hands tentatively reach forward, and I find his shoulders, realizing he must be on his knees in front of me.

I hear the others talking as they come in behind us and move about the room, but my main focus is on Bower right now. As he lifts my foot and places it in the boxers, I can’t help but think about the fact that his face is only inches away from my bare core.

What would he do if I lifted the hem of my shirt and pulled his face against me? I bet he wouldn’t hesitate to make me feel good. And if it wasn’t for Reece being somewhere inside this room with us, I’d be tempted to do it.

Instead, I let my fingers dig into his shoulders as he drags the boxers up my legs until they’re in place. His hands grip my sides under my shirt, but he doesn’t move.

As my eyes adjust to the darkness, his outline becomes clearer.

I slide my hands up his neck and over his face, my fingers threading through his hair.

Gently, I pull the elastic free, letting his hair tumble to his shoulders.

I rake my fingers through the strands while he begins to slowly rub my back .

“You two okay?” Kingsley asks, reminding me we’re not alone.

“Uh-huh,” I mumble, not taking my eyes off of Bower.

I push my fingers in hard, massaging his scalp, and he quietly moans, his fingers tightening on my skin.

“What exactly are you guys doing over there?” Reece asks, sounding a little frustrated.

“I’m rubbing his head,” I say, pressing a little harder and smiling at Bower's response as he draws me closer.

A few seconds pass before Kingsley adds, “That’s not a euphemism, Reece.”

I hear him grunt and I bend down, whispering to Bower, “What does he mean? A euphemism for what?”

He cups my face, tilting it down to his. “Just ignore him.” He gives me a quick peck on the lips and stands up.

“Reece, do you want the hammock?” Kingsley asks. I turn and try to make out where the rest of them are. Weston and Kingsley are sitting on the two side-by-side mattresses while Reece stands in the middle of the room with his arms crossed, staring in my direction.

“It’s either that or share the mattress with us.”

Reece glances around before letting his arms drop to his sides and stepping up to stand right in front of me. Placing his hands on my shoulders, he bends down, bringing his face to my level.

“You won’t leave while we’re asleep? You’ll still be here in the morning?”

I nod my head, and he persists. “Promise me, Darla.”

“I promise.”

He nods his head, seemingly satisfied with my answer. “Good night, darling.” He places a kiss on the top of my head and moves to the hammock.

I bite my lip as I watch him take off his shirt and push his pants down, leaving him in only his boxers. It’s the first time I’ve seen this grown-up version of him in so little clothing, even if I can’t make out much.

“You’re drooling,” Bower whispers right beside my ear, making me jump. He laughs as he nudges me towards the other two. “Come on, Tink. It’s bedtime.”

Weston reaches a hand towards me and when I grip it, he pulls me down between him and Kingsley. I realize they’re all only wearing boxers, too, as I snuggle down between them.

Weston wraps himself around me from behind and Kingsley lifts my leg up over his hip, pulling both my hands between his and holding them against his chest. Bower lays behind him, his hand grabbing my thigh and holding tight.

Are they afraid I’ll disappear in the middle of the night? I guess I do have a habit of running away. It’s a hard habit to break. Running has kept me safe. But if these men are teaching me anything, it’s that I need to start facing my fears head on.

As easy as that sounds in theory, there are some things I’d rather not think about. I just hope we don’t get another storm anytime soon. That brings one particular memory to the surface that I have no intention of ever sharing… with any of them.