Page 4 of Wayward (Wrecked #4)

Rocks Ahead

Easton

I ’m at the reasonable bottom of the third hole. The undersides of my fingernails are black with dirt. I’m dragging this out as long as I can . . . and Z’s losing his patience with me. I don’t glance up, but I know he’s glaring.

Haley is crouched twenty feet away with Holloway leaning on a tree behind her.

Hughes is looking at the clouds coming in and out of the jungle canopy.

I’ve caught Harris more than once watching the waterfall instead of me.

It’s a fine line between getting shot and distracting them enough with boredom that they don’t notice when I find the bag.

“Yeah, it’s not this one either. I know it’s one of these rocks.

Sorry.” I say it convincingly. It’s not an excellent trait, but in a pinch, I can lie with the best of them.

“No, Susan, I don’t know where your good scissors went―I don’t even know what they look like"; "Dad, I’m training and there’s no way I can come for a week on the Mermaid’s Tale with you.

” Fuck, that last one I wish I could undo.

I’d give anything to spend a week with my sister and my dad now.

Z stands. “Harris, keep an eye on him. I have to go to the banana tree.”

“Yes sir!” Harris says, though he’s startled.

Z cocks his head at me and brushes off his pants.

And this is my opportunity. Holloway and Haley are far enough back that they can’t see the bottom of the pits when I dig them.

The second Z turns around, I casually push the dirt into the last hole I dug, moving the next rock ― the right one ― aside.

Holloway’s watching me, but the other two are watching Z leave.

“How long are we going to be here?” Harris raises his chin at Holloway.

“Until Z says we’re done,” Holloway growls.

I check to make sure Z’s really gone. Haley catches my eye.

She sees that I’m on the right rock. I give her a quick wink and cock my head slightly at Holloway as I make my way through the dirt.

It’s not as loose as I thought it would be.

The rainy season has compacted it down, but it’s still a lot easier digging than the other holes, and I’m almost to the bag when I flash my eyes to Haley.

She gives the tiniest of nods back and sneezes. It’s an adorable sneeze.

“Bless you,” Hughes says.

All three of the guards are looking at her as she holds up her hand.

“Thank you.” Two more high-pitched adorable sneezes come out of her, and then she coughs. But the funny thing is, that’s really what happens to her when she sneezes. Then, through her cough, she says, “Do you have any water?” Right on cue.

“Sure.” Holloway looks down at his belt.

I scratch through the last bit of dirt and fight with the knot on the top of the bag.

But it comes open, and I slip my hand into the bag and take one of the diamonds out.

The real one? The fake one? I have no idea.

I just know I’ve got a 100% shot of having something to barter with later.

And those years of practicing magic during middle school swim practice .

. . This is far better than impressing people at poker games with my fancy card shuffling abilities.

I palm the diamond and slip it into the waistband of my shorts.

I’ll have to find a place to hide it. I push dirt over the bag and poke at the side of the hole, waiting for Z to come back.

Which is taking a lot longer than I thought it would.

I’m digging beside the covered bag with Holloway watching me when there’s a crunch of gravel behind me.

“What’s that in the bottom?” Z’s voice bottoms out.

“There it is. I told you.” I pull out the bag, shake the dirt and clay off it again, and hand it to Z.

Z raises his eyebrow and purses his lips. “What’s this?” he asks. And I’m momentarily nervous that he’s a gem expert.

“It’s the Pink Phoenix,” I say with as much conviction as I can.

“Very good, Rockwell. I can see that, but there are other diamonds in here, and a necklace.”

I swallow. The necklace was my mother’s. A sentimental piece that I know Emily would want to have back. Even though she doesn’t like flashy jewelry, it was Mom’s. “The necklace belonged to my mom.” I’d slipped it in at the last minute along with the loose diamonds.

“Oh, Susan.” Z nods, like he’s some long-lost friend.

“She was my stepmother. I'm talking about my real mother. The loose diamonds were Candy’s.”

“Candy. Interesting taste in woman, your father had,” Z says. Had as in past tense. My shoulders tense, and I want to throw up. He’s referring to Candy, not Dad. Not Emily. I have to believe that.

“He tends to . . . not see the problems in people. Do you know him?”

“Not directly. No.”

“Indirectly, then?” I push.

“On paper. I like to be thorough. I’m not a fan of surprises.”

I’m guessing he doesn’t like playing by other people’s rules.

Well, fuck him. He might have the guns behind him, but we’re going to figure out how to get out of this.

I might have played by the set of guidelines he gave me back on the beach, but I’m done having fists connect with my eye sockets.

I wince as I think about it. It’s tender.

There’s an urge in me to touch the side of my face where it’s swelling.

But giving him the satisfaction of knowing he hurt me isn’t going to happen. “Surprises can be a lot of fun.”

He walks toward Haley holding the Pink Phoenix up in a spot of dappled light. Did he hear me? His lips part, and he drops it back into the bag. “Surprises are never fun.”

“What about surprise parties?” Haley steps closer to me.

“Hate them,” Z says.

“That’s sad. But I understand.” Haley smiles at him, and I can hear her thinking how sad it is that he doesn’t like spontaneous fun. “What about puppies?”

“No.”

“Gifts, presents?” she asks.

“I can buy whatever it is I need,” he fires back.

“There are some things you can’t buy.”

“Like what?”

“Expecting your coffee to be cold because you forgot to drink it, but it’s still warm.”

He raises his eyebrow at her, and she smirks back.

“Okay, that’s a minor surprise, but it’s still nice, like seeing a rainbow or a shooting star. Having someone remember and make your favorite meal for you, or having someone bring you a coffee when you didn’t ask for it. Surprises don’t have to be adrenaline-rushing horrible events.”

“Yet they usually are horrible things. Wouldn’t you rather know you’re in control of your surroundings? That’s the perfect ideal, really. Knowing what’s going to happen. That you’ll always have what you need when you need it. The Rock Candy having issues? That certainly was a surprise for you.”

Haley has her stew face on. But I know there’s more she wants to say.

I can see it in the way her shoulders arch up, the angle of her head.

She wants to unload her tank of never-ending optimism on him.

But I know the type. He’s got the mini army and the black AmEx card to make the world move the way he wants.

She could name a thousand positive little things.

Like waking up and listening to a rainstorm in the middle of the rainy season.

And thinking you were going to have to check the fish weir in the rain, but then the din of drops on the old metal slows and stops and the sun comes out.

Or turning the corner on a trail you’ve taken a hundred times and spotting a new coconut tree laden with ripe fruit.

He’s never going to understand. He’s had everything he wanted his entire life.

Yeah, I know who Z is . . . he’s who I used to be. Who I never want to be again.

“If you hate surprises so much . . . why don’t you tell us what’s really going on here?” Haley puts her hands on her hips.

“Well, Hal, I might hate surprises, but you both seem to like them so much I think I should keep something for later. Now go. It’s getting to be midday, and the captain wants to be away from the island.” Mr. Z holds out his hand, ushering her down the path.

When we’re back on the path and about to step back into the thick of the jungle, I can’t help but take in the beauty of the waterfall.

One last time. Taking in the things I learned here.

If I could, I’d . . . I’d never leave. My chest fills with a large breath frozen in my chest. The feelings of this place are what I need. Haley’s what I need.

I need her safe.

Safe.

Fuck.

Hughes presses the muzzle of his gun into the middle of my back. “Move.”

Holloway’s behind him. Harris and Z are in the lead.

I take Haley’s hand; it fits in mine so perfectly. I give it a squeeze and add a wink.

“Move,” Hughes barks again. “You heard Mr. Z.”

“Indeed,” I say. Stepping out, I guide Haley in front of me.

Harris’s gun disappears from my back. The stream’s flowing next to us as we trudge back to camp.

It’s got to be close to a hundred degrees, but I don’t even feel it anymore.

Z’s guards, dressed all in black, have sweat glistening on their faces.

We’re almost past the side trail to one of the boar traps, the one that killed the pirate, when Hughes behind me clears his throat loud enough to make both Haley and me turn.

“Oi, what’s up with the lot of you? I thought she was with the big cranky one?” Hughes asks.

“Hughes,” Holloway growls at him.

Z stops. “That is a good question. I’ll allow it,” he declares, like he’s some sort of judge on a gilded platform.

My blood is boiling, and if they come down on Haley .

. . If the ass calls her anything but what she is ― the love of my life, the most amazing woman on the planet, the soul that saved me from myself ― I’m going to end up dead, that’s for sure.

There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for this woman.

I squeeze her hand tightly. But she shakes her head.

“We’re family,” Haley says in a clear voice. Like she’s announcing a menu with no options. End of statement.

“Well, my family doesn’t share a bed,” Hughes says.

“Family,” Z says and starts back up the trail. “You know, whatever worked for you on the island worked for you on the island.” Z doesn’t turn around.

“They will always be my family.” Haley squeezes my hand again, and it ricochets through my body.

Fuck this.

“I love her. We all do.”

“Interesting,” Z says without turning around.

Haley squeezes my hand again. Though there’s a giant hole in my stomach that I’ve opened Pandora’s box. Sure, they already knew, but now I’ve given Z even more to hold over our heads.

Walking through camp, Haley has my hand in a death grip.

Her head’s down, staring at her feet. And I get it.

It’s so different. Dante’s workstation’s disassembled.

The shutters on the treehouse are shut tight.

The driftwood tree is empty. Even my sad ornament, that had mostly fallen apart, is gone, packed in Haley’s tub of things.

Haley leans into my arm. “I can’t look. It’s too empty.”

“Are you serious ― ” Hughes starts off again, but there’s a thud and he stops. Holloway must have smacked him.

Haley clings to my arm as we leave the camp, her forehead to my skin.

I help her into her life jacket, click it around her waist. There are tears welling on her lower lashes.

“Come on, Firefly.” I help her into the raft, and she doesn’t even mind.

There’s no “I got it” or rolling of the eyes that she’s as capable as one of the guys.

She snuggles into me again. But I lift her chin to the beach and lean into her ear.

There’s no whispering, not with the motor, not with the breaking waves over the reef.

“It was a good home. But you’re my home.

As long as we have each other, it’s going to be all right.

” I put my arm around her and shield her from the wind the best I can with our bulky life jackets.

Her eyes flick to the gun that Hughes is holding. The way he’s glaring at us... And I get it ― our home is under attack. We have no home. Not yet. Civilization has found us, and we’re far from safe.