Unseen Messages

  Looking to my left, the beach disappeared around a bend, leading off to unknown territory. Looking to my right, the bay continued with sandy welcome until the same thing happened and the shoreline vanished. There was no inlet, no sandbank, no hint this island connected to a larger one or civilisation.

  No sun-loungers or happy holidaymakers.

  My heart did its best to reassure me. There was still more territory to explore, another coast to traipse, hope still lingering in the trees.

  But for now, I had nothing left.

  My worst fears suffocated me.

  I’m alone.

  On an island.

  Turning to face the sea, my hope shattered and tears sprang to my eyes.

  The island held no salvation but perhaps the ocean would.

  A boat?

  A plane?

  My gaze bounced from whitecap to reef, searching.

  But nothing.

  Just pristine, perfect, periwinkle blue water.

  Chapter Twelve

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

  G A L L O W A Y

  ......

  DIZZINESS STOLE MY eyesight as I tried yet again to stand.

  Come on. Get to your bloody feet!

  I’d burned all the energy I had, ignored every minor cut and scrape, and done my best to stand on a severely broken ankle and leg.

  I’d tried over and over again. I’d clung to the tree behind me. I’d crawled sideways, back-ways, front-ways (all which damn-near killed me) all in the name of getting off my ass.

  But I couldn’t do it.

  I was still ground-locked, reclining against the palm tree, doing my best not to focus on the resonating throb now that shock and adrenaline had left my system.

  One more try.

  Gathering everything I had left, I planted my hands into the mulch and pushed upward. My good leg bent, ready to hurl me upright, but the minute my broken one shifted with pressure, I collapsed with a shard of blistering agony.

  “Goddammit!”

  Balling my hands, I sucked in lungfuls of air. Frustration and fear sat in equal measures on my thoughts. The storm had passed, the sun had risen, and still, no one had come to investigate.

  The fact that no one had appeared to rubberneck or call authorities gave me all the answers I needed.

  This wasn’t an island with resorts and humans. This was an island that could very quickly become my grave if I didn’t get to my feet.

  All my life, I’d been so confident, acting immortal in my younger years. I’d been arrogant with no thought to the consequences. After what happened with my mum, I’d learned a hard lesson: I was nothing.

  And this...

  This simple task of climbing to my feet taught me another lesson. I was useless. Completely utterly useless.

  I punched the ground, adding bruised knuckles to my list of injuries.

  A crash in the bushes wrenched my head up.

  “Hello?”

  The thought of company (even if they turned out to be cannibals) was a damn sight better than being on my own.

  “Hello? Can you hear me?”

  The noise came again, followed by the most beautiful sound in the world.

  Footsteps.

  “I’m over here.” I hauled myself into a less slouchy position. My legs splayed in front of me, dirt covered every inch from trying to move all night.

  My heart raced as eyes met mine, appearing from the greenery. I held my breath as a hesitant boy stepped from the undergrowth.

  A kid.

  Conner Evermore.

  Thank God more than one of us survived.

  “Hey.” I smiled, swiping at dirt sticking to my chin. “Remember me? I won’t hurt you.”

  The kid shuffled closer, keeping his hands behind his back, protecting something.

  Holding out my palm, I beckoned him forward. “It’s okay. Come here.”

  One footstep. Two. Slowly, he traversed the sodden ground and stopped within a few metres. His gaze fell on my jeans, flinching when he understood what the swelling and odd position of my ankle meant.

  He shifted from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. He dropped his eyes. “You okay?”

  I ignored the question. I wouldn’t be such a selfish bastard to accept the concern of a kid. “Don’t worry about that.” Pointing at what he hid behind him, I said, “I’m more interested if you’re okay.”

  Conner shrugged. “I’ll live.”

  Spunky kid.

  I hated that he’d lived through the crash and whatever would come next, but I liked that he was here. As much as I pushed people away, I didn’t want to be alone. Not now. Not like this.

  A twig snapped behind Conner. He spun in place. “I told you to wait—”

  I smiled as another survivor appeared. Thank God, they’d both lived. They were children and didn’t deserve to die so young.

  Not moving, so I didn’t spook the little girl, I spoke to Conner. “You found your sister. That’s great.”

  Conner nodded as the copper-haired girl darted toward him, coming to stand within touching distance. She had a wicked bruise on her cheekbone and blood covered her top. She trembled as tears glittered in her orb-like eyes.

  My own pain was forgotten as something inside me softened. I’d never been around kids before. I didn’t know how to relate to them. But seeing anything in distress (either human or animal) turned me into some comic book superhero, fighting to the death to avenge and help.

  That’s what happened with Mum and look how that turned out.

  I snorted, cutting off my thoughts before they led me back into darkness. I was the only adult and these two kids needed guidance. They deserved a grown-up to tell them comforting lies that everything would be okay.

  I would be that liar.

  I would protect them...somehow.

  “Not the best landing, huh?” I smiled. “You okay...Pippa, right?”

  The little girl nodded. I guessed she was about seven or eight-years-old. She was taller than other kids but skinny, and the mud smearing both her and her brother mixed with blood that I didn’t know how to deal with.

  “Where are we?” Conner stood protectively by his sister. He didn’t let go of his right wrist, cupping it protectively. He also had a large bruise, but unlike Pippa’s, his marred his neck in a purple splodge.

  “Somewhere in the Fijian Islands.”

  Conner pursed his lips, unhappy with my unhelpful answer.

  I couldn’t blame him. If I were him, I’d be pissed, too.

  I tried to do better. “Hopefully, we’re on an island with a hotel or local village. They’ll know what to do.”

  Instead of my lie being believable, the kids looked at each other with uncertainty.

  What the hell happened to these two?

  Where was the helicopter?

  Where are their parents?

  I swallowed the question. Something like that could come with disastrous answers.

  However, Conner gave me no choice but to learn. “You’re the only one we’ve found alive.”

  Christ.

  Pippa swallowed a sob, drifting closer to me as if I could stop the truth. “They didn’t move.”

  Conner went with his sister. “It’s okay, Pip. It will be okay.”

  “How? She wouldn’t wake up!” Pippa fell forward onto my lap. Her bony arms landed on my broken shin.

  Holy bloody hell, that hurts.

  It took every ounce of control not to toss her away. Instead, I gritted my teeth so hard they almost cracked and hugged the little girl. She needed comfort more than I did. No one ought to see their dead loved ones—especially so young.

  The moment I touched her, my fingers came away with rusty crimson.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  Tugging at her shredded t-shirt, I peered at her back. Blood rivered over her shoulder, a large gash oozing and full of island filth.

  My heart sank.

  There was no way I could tend to h
er. No way I would be of any use to these kids...these...orphaned kids.

  “You’re hurt.”

  She nodded, her head burrowing into my lap.

  Conner grabbed his little sister, tugging her from my arms. His demeanour was feral—treating me as the enemy while so much responsibility had just been dumped on his young shoulders. “She’ll be okay. She’s brave. Aren’t you, Pip?”

  Pippa sniffed, licking at tears rolling close to her lips. She didn’t look away from me as she whispered, “Conner said I can have any to—toy I want of his as lo—long as I don’t cry and do what he tells me.”

  Conner’s boyish jaw clenched. “Anything you want, you get, sis.”

  Pippa smiled; it was pain-filled and tears still leaked, but it was an attempt to behave for her older brother.

  I had to look away from the pure love between the siblings. Conner was barely in his teens, yet the steadfast bravery and wisdom aged him overnight.

  We didn’t speak for a few minutes, all coming to terms with what this meant.

  Conner said I’m the only one he’s come across alive. Does that mean...Estelle—

  I cut myself off.

  The thought of Conner’s parents dying gutted me. The image of the woman I’d immediately connected with destroyed me.

  Taking a deep breath, I did my best to keep my questions cryptic so as not to unsettle Pippa. “Conner...when you say I’m the only one...”

  Conner understood straight away. Glancing into the foliage from where they’d come, he shuddered. “They’re dead.” Balling his hands, he forced himself to continue. “Mum and Dad are over there. And the pilot is by the helicopter.”

  “Mummy and Daddy?” Pippa perked up. “They might just be sleeping, Co.” She tugged on his hand. “I want to go back. I want Mummy to stop the pain.”

  Conner squeezed his eyes before jerking his sister close and kissing her temple. She cried out as his arm stuck to her bleeding shoulder but didn’t try to squirm away.

  “Pip, Mummy can’t help you. Remember what I said?”

  Shit, he’d had the conversation alone?

  This kid was something else.

  Pippa frowned. “You said they were sleeping.”

  “What else did I tell you?”

  She looked at the ground. “That it was a forever kind of sleep, and they wouldn’t wake up.”

  Conner scowled, fighting his own grief in order to hide the trauma from his sister. “And do you remember why I said they wouldn’t wake up? Remember what happened to Chi-Chi when she went to heaven?”

  “The kitty went to sleep and remained very still. She didn’t purr or swat at me with her paw. She just kept sleeping.”

  “Exactly.” His jaw ticked with pain. “And that’s what Mum and Dad are doing. They’re forever sleeping and no matter how much you want them to, they won’t wake up. Okay?”

  Pippa froze, the realisation finally settling deep into her too-young-for-loss soul. “But—”

  Conner swallowed his grief, doing his best to be brave. “But nothing, Pip. They’re dead. Got it? They’re not coming—”

  Pippa wrenched from his hold. “I don’t believe you!”

  “You don’t have to believe me! It’s true.”

  The two siblings glared at each other.

  “I want to go back!”

  “We can’t go back! They’re dead, Pip.”

  “I don’t want them to be dead.” Pippa burst into fresh tears. “They can’t be dead.”

  I cursed that I couldn’t get to my feet and hug them. They were too young to deal with death, too innocent to deal with pain, and too damn precious to be stranded in a crash and left alone.

  Screw this.

  Gritting my teeth, I bent my good leg and pushed upward. The world tilted, pain greyed my vision, and the breaks in my bones toppled me back down again.

  Goddammit!

  Pippa pummelled Conner’s chest as he tried to grab her. “I want to go home. I don’t like this place.”

  “You think I don’t want that, too?” He caught her flailing fists. “I want them to wake up just as much as you do!”

  Gasping with agony, I growled, “Guys, quit it. You can’t—”

  “Oh, my God. You’re alive.”

  The squabble ceased as we all wrenched our heads to the newcomer’s voice.

  My heart tripped over as the blonde, hazel-eyed apparition turned into a dirty but sexy-as-hell woman. Leggy and lovely, she represented everything I thought I’d lost and everything I’d been too afraid to want.

  She was safety to me. Even while granting jeopardy in the worst way.

  “Estelle?” My voice echoed shock and relief. “You survived.”

  She flicked me a smile but beelined toward the kids. Pippa stood frozen with tears cascading down her cheeks.

  Estelle didn’t say a word, merely stopped in front of them, dropped to her knees, and grabbed them in a hug.

  Pippa dissolved, burying her face into the stranger’s damp hair, sobbing with no restraint. It bloody hurt to see a child come so undone, but it was for the best. She needed to grieve; only then could she face what her new future held.

  Conner stood rigidly, his arms dead straight and hands balled tight, unyielding in Estelle’s arms. But slowly his pale bravery cracked and his tears flowed.

  Bowing over Estelle, he let himself be hugged, allowing the weight of death to smother thanks to a random act of kindness.

  I hated that I couldn’t join in; that I couldn’t offer what Estelle did so easily. All I could do was sit there, fighting against uselessness and grieve with them. If Conner was right and his parents and the pilot were dead, that meant our seven had become four and who knew what the future held.

  I had no way of judging time, but slowly, Pippa’s tears stopped and Conner moved away.

  Kissing Pippa’s cheek, Estelle stood upright, wincing a little as she held her chest.

  She’s hurt, too.

  We were all damaged in some way.

  Making eye contact with me, Estelle’s gaze cut me to the core. She made me feel lacking; she made me feel brave. She made me feel like she needed me even while I needed her in return.

  I didn’t even know her, but she dragged so many emotions from me. Emotions I wanted nothing to do with because she made me weak and I had to be strong in this place. Strong for her and for them.

  But how could I stop her power when all I wanted was for her to hug me the way she’d done with the kids?

  Clearing my throat, I looked away.

  Estelle came to stand over me. “Is it broken?” She pointed at my ankle.

  I squinted; the sun silhouetted her through the trees. “I’m not a doctor, but I’m pretty sure a normal leg and foot isn’t supposed to bend like that.”

  She scowled. “You don’t have to be pissy about it. It was a simple question.”

  What?

  I hadn’t meant my answer to come across surly and rude. She unnerved me. It made me try too hard and sprout crap I didn’t mean.

  Dragging long hair over her shoulder, she muttered, “Can you stand at least?”

  Keeping my eyes down, I did my best to answer without any hint of attitude. “No.” I wouldn’t give her any other reason to think I was an asshole.

  “The pain is that bad? Or you just didn’t try?”

  Way to make me feel like even more of a loser than I am.

  My teeth clenched. “Of course, I fucking tried.”

  She sucked in a gasp at my curse.

  The children drifted closer, drying their eyes and focusing on me rather than their dead parents.

  “On a scale of one to ten, how bad?” Estelle squatted beside me, resting her tiny hands on my quad.

  I flinched. The heat of her fingers lacerated me through my jeans. Even with a crashed landing, immense pain, and night in a storm, my cock still twitched with longing.

  I didn’t know this woman, yet everything about her shackled a collar around my neck and made me want to beg
for scraps of attention. Why did she have to be on my flight? Why did she have to sign up for a stupid helicopter taxi? Why couldn’t she have stayed away?

  “Are you going to answer me?” Her head tilted. Sunshine dappled her bare arms, highlighting cuts, scrapes, and mud but somehow making her even more beautiful. Twigs and leaves tangled her hair as if she’d slept in a tree, and her lips were wet and pink.

  What the hell did she ask me?

  I forced myself not to look at the glittering gemstones on her top, beckoning me to peer down her cleavage to the hint of bra beneath.

  “Earth to Galloway.”

  My heart raced hearing my name on her lips.

  She leaned closer, giving me a glimpse down her shirt and the full swell of her breasts. Desire shot between my legs before horror replaced it at the slice across her perfect skin. Blood splattered, rust-coloured, and no longer flowing but the large laceration showed just how hurt she was.

  Shit.

  “Who cares about me? What about you. How badly are you hurt?”

  Her eyebrow rose as she followed my gaze. Slapping a hand over the gaping top, she sniffed. “That’s none of your business. I asked about you.”

  I reached for her, wanting to rip the neckline and force her to admit that she wasn’t okay. That it ought to be me taking care of her not the other way around. “Let me see—”

  She swatted my hand. “No chance.” Temper glowered on her face. “Answer the damn question and forget about me. On a scale of one—”

  “One to ten?” Fine, if she didn’t want me to care for her, she could just leave me the hell alone. “I’d say a fucking eleven.”

  Her forehead furrowed. “Don’t swear.”

  Great, now I was aroused and annoyed and pissed off that I couldn’t do a damn thing to help the people around me. They deserved attention far more than I did. I didn’t do well being told off—no matter that she was right.

  Breathing shallowly, her fingers suddenly splayed along the length of my leg, travelling from swollen shin, deformed ankle, to my mangled foot below.

  Every muscle in my body clenched. I swallowed my agonising groan.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing, but I think you’re right.” She bit her lip. “I don’t want to be a pessimist but I think a few metacarpals in your foot are broken, your ankle most definitely is, and perhaps your tibia, too.”