Page 39 of Unseen Messages


  “When I’m round you? All the time.”

  She rolled her eyes, but I could tell she was secretly pleased that I wanted her so much.

  And it wasn’t a lie.

  Whenever she was around me, whether it be chopping wood or gutting fish, I couldn’t help my cock reacting to her lithe figure and long white-blonde hair.

  “Oh, my God. They’re so cute!” Pippa squealed, jumping up and down.

  We slowed, steadying our breathing as we arrived at the nest where tiny shelled creatures did their best to unbury themselves with the aid of ungainly flippers.

  Conner sat on his haunches. “Whoa...that’s kinda cool.”

  One by one, hundreds of the damn things erupted from the ground in a stampede.

  Estelle couldn’t tear her eyes away as our beach slowly transformed from virgin sand into flippered chaos. “There must be close to a thousand of the things.”

  I did a quick calculation in my head. “I think I read somewhere that close to a hundred eggs can be laid at one time. I guess the odds are that you’re right. There were a lot of turtles that night using our island as a bloody incubator.”

  Conner and Pippa abandoned their post by the nest, crawling on their hands and knees, keeping pace with the baby turtles. Smiling, they inched toward the water’s edge, following the haphazard trails and lurches of new life.

  “This is the best day ever!” Pippa beamed, stroking the back of one tiny critter. “I want one. Please, please can we keep one?”

  Estelle crawled like Pippa, making my heart swell as her ass swayed in her black bikini. She had no fat or womanly curves anymore, but I would’ve given anything to be alone, pull down her bathing suit, and take her from behind.

  We’d done that a few nights ago. I’d slipped into her while she rested on her hands and knees. I’d clutched her hips and bit the back of her neck as we both turned a little savage.

  I loved that her libido was the same as mine.

  I loved that we liked the same thing.

  I loved that she loved me.

  “Can’t, Pip. You know the rules. If they survive, they’ll come back.” Conner broke the cardinal law and plucked a baby from the sand, holding its shell so the poor thing flapped in mid-air. “Besides, they’re kinda pointless. Cute, but not exactly awesome like a cat.”

  “Co, put that thing down.” I crossed my arms. “What did we say about looking but no touching?”

  He grunted. “I’m not a little kid, G. Don’t talk to me like one.”

  “Don’t care. Put him back.”

  Frowning, he plopped the turtle next to one of its nest mates.

  Pippa pouted. “If they survive?” Her eyes turned worried. “What does Co mean, Stelly? They’ll all make it...won’t they?”

  Estelle glanced at me, panic on her face.

  “Don’t look at me.” I shrugged. “You’re up.”

  She glowered.

  I struggled to hold my chuckle. She was so damn delicious when she was mad.

  “Pip, you know how the circle of life works. You know we eat fish, that we...kill...to survive. Just like we do what is necessary, some of these turtles will provide food for other wildlife.” Waving at the carpet of crawling things, she added, “That’s why nature has so many hatch at once. Their chances at surviving are much higher in numbers and those that don’t make it...well, that wasn’t their destiny.”

  Conner rolled his eyes. “Destiny to be dinner, you mean.”

  Pippa threw a handful of sand at him. “Stop it.”

  “All right. That’s enough.” Planting a kiss on Pippa’s head, I said, “Let’s all focus on the fact that they’ve just hatched, not the day of their demise, okay?”

  Pippa sniffed but slowly nodded.

  Conner continued to chase the babies into the sea, drawing a finishing line in the sand and cheering as each waddled over it to the gentle tide beyond.

  The tension vanished, and together, we watched the miracle of life as a thousand little things trudged their way to the turquoise ocean and disappeared into its dangerous depths.

  How many will survive?

  How many will return to this same place and lay another generation of young?

  And, if we never go home, how many times will we witness it?

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  ...............................................

  E S T E L L E

  ......

  Blasphemy: Blasphemy is the act of insulting, showing contempt, or lack of reverence to something considered sacred or inviolable.

  It’s official, I’m a blasphemer.

  What other word could I use for the complete switch of my emotions?

  I still despaired. I still worried. I still begged for rescue.

  But I also thanked. I smiled. I revelled in my new world.

  Because they made it so much more real than anything before.

  Taken from the notepad of E.E.

  ...

  APRIL

  SLEEPING WITH GALLOWAY changed my world. And not in some superficial ‘he’s my soul-mate’ kind of way. More in a ‘this man will protect me, care for me, and do everything in his power to make me happy’ kind of way.

  His selflessness made me do the same for him and our quality of life (despite the lack of facilities and society niceties) was the best I’d ever had.

  My existence was copacetic.

  Conner celebrated his fourteenth birthday, and we did our best to give him the same experience as Pippa. We lit the bonfire to signal a new year, we raided our larder for the wild mint I’d found growing last week to make a coconut milk mint dessert, and we all pulled together to laugh and joke, all while keeping the weak but constant depression at bay.

  It wasn’t depression that debilitated us or made us hate our life. It was depression knowing that, no matter how happy we were, Conner was at an age now where the island wouldn’t be enough.

  He needed friends and girls.

  He needed freedom to experiment and space to get into mischief.

  We could give him many things; we could teach and care, but we couldn’t give him the complexities of adolescence.

  Marking such occasions and sharing life events confirmed what we’d known for a while. Despite Galloway’s progression with the life raft (it was half-finished and filled with potential), we were stuck here until fate decided otherwise.

  Some days, it was all too much. Days when the sun irritated and the sticky salt frustrated. But luckily, those down days were soothed by happy ones, and those were what I chose to remember.

  As life ticked on and Galloway and I spent more and more time in bed together, I slowly relaxed into my new world.

  I allowed Galloway to learn who I was.

  I no longer wanted to hide.

  I told him about my family, my singing, my home.

  I glossed over the tour in the USA, and only briefly mentioned the record deal because that part of my life had been so new and it was over now.

  Singing and song writing were a part of me. Performing and wealth were not.

  He didn’t need to know about that when I had so much else to share.

  In return, he told me about his dead mother, his grieving father, and the fact that his dad might not make it now he’d lost a son as well as his wife. He told me he’d studied his final months in the USA with a world-renowned architect and loved working with wood almost as much as I loved scribbling in my notebook.

  My personality was no longer afraid of companionship. I was free. Which meant I no longer hid my music or songs.

  I sang often.

  I shared lyrics.

  And the fear of getting pregnant slowly faded as my periods came irregularly, just like always. The womanly affliction didn’t last for long (which I was thankful for), but at least, it showed that my body had enough nutrients to continue operating correctly and also meant, that, despite the number of times I cornered Galloway for a quickie or he dragged me from my bed in the dead of night, we wer
e being as careful as we could.

  I knew he wanted to come inside me.

  I knew he struggled to pull out some nights, and when the silvery liquid jettisoned from his body to soak into the sand, he had mixed emotions.

  But unless we could figure out how to make a condom, he would never come in me.

  It was the price we both had to pay.

  .............................

  MAY

  As weeks turned to months, we continued to adapt and evolve. Conner constantly grew as his body underwent teenage upgrades. Some nights, he was an opinionated asshole where I would happily strap his backside and turf him outside. However, others he was the sweetest kid.

  He played with Pippa.

  He brought me flowers.

  He questioned and listened when Galloway taught him with such keen intelligence, my heart fluttered with gratitude for such a great man.

  Pippa, on the other hand, stayed quiet. I couldn’t compare her to the previous little girl before the crash because I didn’t know her, but I did worry about her.

  She argued or acted out very rarely. She smiled but not fully. She seemed wiser and braver than any eight-year-old was but at least, she had us. She was still young enough to only need our company and not that of punk boys or bratty girls.

  Galloway continued to infiltrate my soul with how capable, strong, and incredible he was. Constantly surprising me with glimpses into his past and personality. He’d changed so much from the surly, snappy douchebag when we’d first arrived, but one thing hadn’t changed.

  He still refused to tell me what hung over him—what he could never run from.

  It had to be something huge.

  Something monstrous.

  But I could never believe he was a monster.

  He might’ve done something to justify the term...but I trusted him with my entire existence.

  He wasn’t a bad person.

  He’s not.

  Some nights, I encouraged everyone to the wet sand and scratched messages for the incoming tide to steal.

  Things like:

  I’m grateful for fresh water and look forward to the next rain so I can have a bath. (Mine).

  I’m pissed off that I can’t get off this island but at the same time don’t want to leave. (Conner).

  I miss the turtles. I wish I could’ve kept one. I want a pet. Puffin and Mr. Whisker Wood aren’t cutting it anymore. (Pippa).

  I hope bad luck never visits us again. (Galloway).

  Sharing our troubles and having them wash way helped ease our burden (I didn’t know why, but it did), and I also remained faithful to documenting our life with photos and videos, becoming more selective on what to save as the memory card slowly filled up with our sandy existence.

  Overall, we weren’t doing too badly.

  Until Galloway’s fear of bad luck returning came true.

  .............................

  “Goddammit, Estelle, come back here.”

  Galloway’s arm lassoed around my middle, pulling me back in the waves.

  I giggled, pinching his forearm as it wrapped tightly around my hips. “Let me go, you sea-beast.”

  “Sea-beast?” His lips captured my ear, yanking me hard against his front so his erection dug into my lower back. “I’m a sea-beast now? All right, let’s see what you think of said sea-beast when it wants something from you.”

  His hand disappeared down my back, ripping open the Velcro of his board-shorts and shoving them down his hips.

  “Oh, my God. What are you doing?” I spun in his arms. The vast ocean spread behind him, the sunset losing its final vermillion glow as it extinguished on the horizon. “Stop it.”

  He smirked, his fingers dipping to my core and sliding my bikini bottoms to the side, exposing me in the cool tide. “I won’t stop, and I would’ve thought it was obvious what I’m doing.”

  Trying to wriggle from his arms, I looked over my shoulder. “Pippa and Conner might see.”

  “So what?” Galloway captured my lips, swallowing my complaints as he slid one finger inside me. The coolness of ocean and probing heat of his digit unravelled me.

  His tongue entered my mouth at the same leisurely pace, making me pant as my hips ignored my refusal and rocked on his hand.

  His lips turned up beneath mine. “I see you’ve decided to stop fighting?”

  I shuddered as he inserted another finger.

  “You had me this morning.”

  “So?”

  “You had me last night, too.”

  “I ask again...so?”

  “Do you ever put that sword of yours to bed?”

  He chuckled. “Sword? Oh, Stel, my sword never sleeps. In fact, it’s desperate for a sheath and wants to come home to you.”

  His fingers slid from my body, replacing with the urgent pressure of his cock.

  I arched my back, wrapping my legs around his hips. “This is so inappropriate.”

  Galloway licked my neck. “How? Pippa and Conner went in from their swim. They’re probably having a snack and playing checkers or something. They won’t be watching. Not that they can see us now the sun has set.”

  “They can too see us.” My mouth parted as the crown of his erection slid just a little bit inside me.

  My fingers dove into the long hair on his nape, twirling and tugging with demand. For all my verbal disapproval, my body submitted completely.

  “Even if they can see, they’ll only see us embracing in the water.” He kissed me again. “We’re chest deep, Stel. What goes on below the water is none of their damn business.”

  He thrust up, entering me in one slick slide.

  “Oh...” My body folded in his embrace as my legs tightened around his hips. “God...why does that feel so good?”

  “Why?” His lips circled my ear as his hands cupped my breasts, shoving aside the bikini triangles and pinching my nipples. “Because you were made for me and we fit perfectly. Nothing will ever feel as good as it does when we join.”

  He’s right.

  Not that he needed to hear it. His ego was big enough as it was.

  I stayed glued to his front as he fondled me. He thrust up again, sending water rippling around us.

  Sparks and fireworks detonated from where we joined, radiating down to my toes.

  I shuddered. “Oh...do that again.”

  “Do what?” His hands left my breasts, clamping on my hips. “This?” His hips jerked, impaling me right to the base of his cock. My clit rubbed against his belly and stars twinkled behind my eyelids.

  “Yes...oh, yes...that.”

  He stood motionless; my body throbbed for more. Goosebumps rose on my arms. I didn’t know if it was from having covert sex or the night breeze that always sprang up after dusk.

  Either way, I wanted Galloway to warm me. I needed him.

  Bowing my head, I bit his shoulder. “More.”

  “More?”

  “More...”

  He thrust but only slightly, teasing me to the point of insanity. “I think you’re forgetting the magic word.”

  I raised my head, staring into his velvet blue eyes. Somehow, they matched the dusk-lightened sky and I swore comets glimmered in their depths. “What magic word?”

  He smirked, his hips rocking in time with the sea current. “I think you know.” Grabbing the back of my neck, water cascaded down his arm, flowing off his elbow. “I want you to beg.”

  My eyes widened as he kissed me. His teeth nipped, his tongue slinked, and any decorum I had melted from my mind.

  I moaned, rocking on his body. “Please. Please give me what I need.”

  “Again, Estelle. Beg me.” Our lips never unsealed—speaking, kissing, loving, conversing.

  One arm went around me, while his other imprisoned my hip, holding me in place. With each plea, he thrust harder until ripples became splashes and we drove into each other with ferocity.

  “Please...yes...oh, God. Yes.”

  He never stopped kissing me. H
e knew me so well that the moment I climbed up the slippery slope of release, his pace increased in time with my panting breath.

  “Yes, yes, yes.”

  “Christ, Estelle.” His nose nuzzled my wet hair. “I love you. Come for me. Please, come for me.”

  The friction of his lower belly on my clit and the overwhelming fullness of his cock inside ignited the dynamite in my blood.

  I lost sensation of the water cradling me. I lost consciousness of who I was. All I recalled was that Galloway was inside me...just like it should always be.

  I came.

  And came.

  And when my final crest vanished with the fallen sun, Galloway grunted and pulled out.

  His forehead scrunched and his agonising groan as he came brought tears to my eyes.

  He orgasmed into the salty sea, spurting milky seed far away from me, keeping his promise just like he did every night.

  As we washed up and swam to shore, I smiled and laughed and gave no thought that pulling out wasn’t a reliable method.

  I gave no mind to the possible terror that one day soon a tenacious sperm might win the fight, regardless of our methods.

  As we crawled into bed and fell asleep in each other’s arms, I didn’t dream of what would happen if that day ever came.

  I was naïve.

  I was in love.

  I was stupid.

  Our romantic swim marked the calendar as the 14th of May.

  It was a day I would always remember, because, unfortunately, life wasn’t done throwing us bad luck.

  .............................

  Four nights later, my tummy cramped, reminding me that my period was due and to prepare a few rags.

  However, a few days later, my breasts were swollen and nipples tight and my uterus ached, granting a few spots of blood.

  But no normal flow.

  I stared at the clean rag that I’d shoved in my bikini bottoms and froze completely solid.

  No.

  No.

  No.

  No.

  This couldn’t be happening.

  This can’t be true.

  We’d been so careful.

  It’s just...not possible.

  It was a joke.

  I smashed my eyes with my fingertips, trying to destroy every thought.

  No, that wasn’t possible.

  It’s not possible.