Chapter Thirty-One - Victoria
I expect him to yell. I expect him to scream, and tell me I’m a selfish, stubborn woman who thinks she’s always right. I expect all the things I’ve gotten from him in the past.
But he doesn’t do any of that. He doesn’t even frown.
He takes my hand and drags me through the trees, pulling me along with him, so hard I think my shoulder will come out of the socket.
“West,” I say, trying my best to keep up. “Slow down!” The branches and leaves are drenched with rain, which has stopped just as suddenly as it started. But they slap me in the face and water gets in my eyes so I have to close them and hope I don’t fall as West continues to freak out and drag me along.
He says nothing until we get to the boat house on the lagoon. Then he stops and looks me in the eye as he places both of his hands on my shoulders and squeezes. “Victoria. I need you to listen to me. OK?”
I nod.
“You’re going to stay here. You’re going to hide in the trees until I come back. And if any of those men from that island come while I’m gone, you’re going to run in that direction as fast as you can.”
He points off to the left and my gaze follows.
“There’s no beach on that side of the island. OK? There’s no beach so it won’t be easy for them to find you. So you make your way through the brush, as fast as you safely can, and then wait until I call for you before coming out. Do you understand?”
“Where are you going?” I ask, suddenly very frightened.
“I’m going back to the house to close up the safe. Maybe they’ll think we’re in there and it will give us enough time to find a good hiding place.”
We both look up as we hear the sound of an approaching helicopter.
“Do what I say, Tori. I mean it. These people are not fucking around and they are here for us.”
“Why, though? Why are they after us?”
“We can think about that later. Right now, we just need to hide. Don’t come looking for me. I’ll find you. Now run. We don’t have much time and I’m not going until I see you run.”
“West—”
“Run, Tori. I’m dead fucking serious. And don’t stop until you can see the ocean.”
I want to kiss him or hug him. Or say I’m sorry I didn’t trust him and left that note and now he has to clean up my mistake.
But I don’t. I figure the best way to show him all that is to follow his directions.
So I take off into the trees. There is no path. Just underbrush and tree trunks and bugs. I have no shoes on, so my feet are bleeding almost immediately as I step on rocks, and sticks, and all the tiny disgusting things that live on this island.
It takes me minutes to be brave enough to look behind me. I didn’t get that far. I can still see the red roof of the boathouse through a break in the leaves.
The helicopter is louder. So loud I have to clamp my hands over my ears. It’s circling the island above. I stop when I get to a small clearing with a tall tower in the middle, afraid to move for fear of being seen from the air.
So I hide under the tree cover and watch it. Whatever cargo it’s carrying is hanging by ropes or chains. It’s nothing but a box.
What’s in that box?
I crawl on my hands and knees to the tower, then climb up as fast as I can. It’s only about thirty feet high, but that’s higher than the tallest trees, so I have a good view.
The men are being dropped down by a line, one after another. There must be no good place to land here. “Please, let West already be leaving the house. Please, please, please.” I chant it over, and over, and over.
Men are yelling on the other side of the island. Shouting, then shooting.
Holy fucking shit.
“Please, please, please,” I say, climbing back down the tower. It’s my mantra and I chant it as I run. There’s a small trail, but I don’t take it. What if they fan out and start looking down all the trails?
I keep to the brush, trying to put some distance between me and the shouting.
A branch catches my shirt and it rips as I keep going. Red lines appear on my arms and legs as the thin branches of young trees slap against my body.
The helicopter circles overhead again. Like they are searching for someone.
Me?
Or West?
I don’t know, I just cower in the brush and hide under long fern fronds. When it moves on to another spot, I continue my run. A few minutes later I can hear the ocean, then see it. And I’ve run out of room.
This is where I’ll have to stay.
This is where I’ll have to hide.