Chapter 30
Faith

Faith rolled onto her back with a cry, fresh off an orgasm. She’d lost track of how many times they’d fucked and had long stopped caring about the streaks of white stains that covered Alex’s and Caleb’s sleeping bags.

Her body was sore, overworked and absolutely covered in Alex’s marks. By now, the sun had set again. They’d spent the entire day exploring each other’s bodies and trading orgasms. Most were simultaneous. She couldn’t help it. Every time he came inside her, it made her come again, too.

Even with the tent’s opening unzipped, the heat from the day had turned their little fuck nest into a hot pot. The night breezes hadn’t started yet.

Alex reached for her, and she trembled. She was almost to the point of telling him, “My God, no more,” but couldn’t. Her body craved him, and it was insatiable.

But instead of going for another round, Alex simply traced her rib cage lazily. It is the great kind of sore, she told herself. Faith propped herself up on Alex’s fleece and gazed down at her body. There was barely any part of her that wasn’t covered in bite marks or bruises, and she loved it. Alex’s entire torso was covered in tiny scratch marks, bruises, and her bite marks.

“I like this,” she said.

“Like what?” he asked, though he didn’t open his eyes. One of his forearms was splayed across his face.

“This,” she said. “Being marked by you.”

“I like it, too,” he said with a grin. “Though we might have some explainin’ to do when we get back, ma’am.”

She giggled. “I have a feeling we’ll be okay.”

“How come?”

She shrugged. “I think maybe we weren’t as covert as we thought.”

“You mean Mama? Hell, she always knows everything.”

Faith was lightheaded just looking at Alex. This amazing man, with his incredible smile that could light up an entire island. Even as she was, feeling pleasurably exhausted from hours in bed with him, she was filled with lust whenever he smiled at her. Not just lust, she told herself. Gratitude. She was grateful that he’d chosen her, that she’d been filled to the brim with him.

Still, she couldn’t help but mull over what he’d said. Does he really love me? Of course, it had been said in the middle of sex. That could certainly make it null and void, right? She didn’t know. Faith wove her fingers through his hair and felt a spark rush through her as one of his fingers grazed her thigh, dangerously close to her mound.

She wanted to ask him if he’d meant it. Maybe he doesn’t even realize he said it, she cautioned herself. But if he did? Did he mean it? She looked down at him. Alex didn’t seem like the type of guy who would just say things like that carelessly.

And what if he did mean it? Where does that leave me? The idea of actually being in love with him felt absurd. They’d only known each other a few weeks! But then again, what did time have to do with anything? She’d dated some men exclusively for months and never felt anything close to love. Who says there has to be a time frame we all stick to?

No, she told herself. I can’t possibly love Alex. Lust, sure. Maybe I’m even on the road to love—if I had the luxury of time. Time. That was the real bitch. Soon enough, she’d have to go back to San Francisco. Taking the summer off was a big enough risk, but there was no way she could extend her vacation into autumn.

But the thought of going back to the West Coast without Alex? That hurt. That incredible physically painful kind of hurt. Jesus. What the hell is up with me?

Faith had no idea how to broach the subject with Alex. If she did it back at the inn, when he’d had time to strap on that “who gives a shit” attitude again, he’d just brush it off. If I really want to talk about it with him, do it now.

She opened her mouth, but the words didn’t come. What could she say, or ask, anyway? Come to California with me? That was childish, selfish, and stupid. But what if I don’t even try?

“Alex—”

“Shh,” he said harshly and put a finger to his lips.

She wrinkled her brow, but then she heard it, too. There was a rustle in the distance. Christ, get it together! she thought. We’re here on a stakeout. Suddenly, she was acutely aware of being completely naked in broad daylight. They could clearly see the end of the trail from their position in the open tent.

Faith wanted to search for her clothes, but they were nowhere in sight. When she even lifted herself onto her elbows, pain from their hours of sex seared her body. I’m a fucking idiot.

“We need to get dressed,” Alex said quietly. The unusual sound had stopped.

Maybe it’s a bear, Faith thought. The idea was ridiculous—what kind of bear would be on this tiny island? And since when did anybody hope for a bear, anyway?

Alex miraculously had some jersey shorts in hand and pulled them up. He tossed her bikini bottom at her. “Where are the rest of your clothes?” he hissed.

She pointed, wordlessly, outside and pulled on the fleece. It made the heat immediately worse, but what other option did she have?

“Jesus,” he said and started to crawl toward the opening. He looked both ways and exited the tent. One minute later, he’d tossed her backpack full of clothes inside. “Get dressed,” he said. “Fast.”

She saw him swap the shorts for jeans outside the tent, and a wave of embarrassment came over her. As Faith dug through the backpack for shorts and a tank top, she knew the moment to talk about the future had passed. I had, what, like eighteen hours to talk about that? Just couldn’t pass up another orgasm, though, could I?

“Ready?” Alex asked as he popped his head into the tent.

She nodded and followed him outside to lace up her hiking boots. “Fuck,” she muttered as she struggled with the laces.

“Shh,” Alex whispered from the cliff’s edge. “Come here.”

She rolled her eyes at him but made her way beside him. “Oh my God,” she said quietly.

In the bright moonlight, the boat was easy to see. It was the size of a small yacht, though far from a luxury vessel. It hugged the shore perilously and didn’t have any lights ablaze. Still, thanks to the full moon, she could make out a little rowboat dropped onto the bank.

Alex pulled out a pair of binoculars from his pack. “Hey,” she whispered. “Do you—”

He handed her another, smaller pair. And I thought coming prepared meant cute bikinis, sandwiches, and sunblock, she thought. I really am stupid.

Several men crowded onto the rowboat, and half of them jumped onto the muddy bank. Clearly well practiced, they began to unload tightly packed bricks. “Is that cocaine?” she whispered.

“I’m guessin’,” he said. “It’s not weed,” he added and squinted into his binoculars. “Stay here.”

“Alex!” she hissed, but he’d already scrambled to the tent. She looked back down at the men. How much do they have?

“Here,” Alex said suddenly. She jumped at his voice. He held two small handguns and pushed one toward her.

“Oh,” she said. “No. No way in hell—”

“Hopefully you won’t have to use it,” he said as he cut her off. “But just in case. Do you know how?”

She shook her head, wide-eyed. This shit had become way too real.

Alex tucked both the guns into his waistband and picked up his binoculars. She waited for him to make some kind of comment on her being a city girl, but he was silent. She picked up her binoculars , too, and watched the men below. They made several trips between the shore and the bigger boat. The size of the bricks grew impressively large. Three men stayed on the bank to guard the coke.

“God, how much do they have?” she whispered.

The rowboat made another return to the vessel, but this time it lingered. The men in the rowboat deboarded and went below deck. Is this what we came out here for? Faith thought. To watch a bunch of rednecks transport cocaine?

She scanned the boats for any identifying information but saw nothing. Even the men were largely nondescript. Most wore baseball caps, and they all had on dark jackets and jeans. What am I supposed to do, anyway? Go report to the police that “a boat and men in baseball caps” are transporting drugs? Not that there’s any cell phone reception out here anyway. . .

“Oh, fuck,” Alex said suddenly.

Faith squinted into the binoculars. The men dragged two teenage girls onto the rowboat. The girls moved sluggishly, as if drugged, their waist-length black hair obscuring their faces. Both were barefoot and in jeans. One wore a Mickey Mouse T-shirt and the other a men’s plaid button-up shirt.

“Oh my God,” Faith whispered. She’d been right, though she hadn’t realized how much she’d wanted to be wrong until now.

The men made one more trip to the boat and this time brought three Latina girls on board. They didn’t seem quite as drugged as the last and looked around wildly, clearly terrified. However, none of them dared to make a sound. The smallest one looked as if she couldn’t have been older than twelve.

Alex was on his hands and knees. Don’t go, she wanted to say. Faith wanted to beg, plead, do whatever it took to keep him beside her. But she knew he’d go before he even said it. “Alex,” she said quietly. “You can’t.”

She reached for his arm, but he gently brushed her hand away.

“Please,” she said. Faith blushed, ashamed at how much her begs now sounded like her pleas in the tent. “You can’t stop them, not right now,” she said. “It’s dangerous. There are tons of them—”

“And those girls?” he asked.

She let out her breath. He was right. “Then let me go with you,” she said. Faith scrambled to her feet and followed him. “You can’t go alone. And maybe with me, they won’t be as quick to, you know . . .”

“You’re not going,” he said firmly. “It’s way too dangerous.”

“If it’s so dangerous, you shouldn’t go, either!”

“Keep your voice down,” he said. “Are you tryin’ to get ʼem killed?”

Her mouth snapped shut and tears sprung to her eyes. “At least tell me what you’re going to do,” she said. “You can’t just leave me up here wondering, not knowing . . .”

“I’m gonna wait till that boat leaves,” he said. Alex tested a flashlight and put it in his pocket. “That way, there will only be a few of ʼem. And given they gotta control those girls, that’ll stack the odds in my favor.”

“In your favor? Your favor to do what?” She felt hot tears spill down her cheeks but didn’t care.

“To make my move,” he said simply.

Together, they returned to the bank to watch the boats. It looked like the bricks and the girls were all set. What are they doing down there? Faith wondered. All she and Alex could do was sit and wait.

Through the binoculars, Faith tried to make note of any unique details of the girls or their captors. One of the men seemed to be wearing a massive gold ring on his finger. A high school ring? An NFL-type ring? She couldn’t tell.

The girls mostly kept their heads down, their faces hidden. All had thick black hair that was perfect for obscuring features. However, one, the only one with shoes—cheap plastic flip-flops—gazed around. She seemed to want to take in where she was, though from where she was crammed onto the muddy bank it had to all look the same.

Suddenly, the girl looked up. Faith could swear she looked right at her. “Alex,” she said as she lowered the binoculars.

“I see,” he said. The girl had huge doll-like eyes. If she saw them, her expression didn’t change.

Faith opened her hand without raising it higher. She hoped if the girl saw it, it would offer some kind of solace. But the girl’s face didn’t shift at all.

“She’s looking at the moon,” Alex said.

Finally, the larger boat began to depart. Faith’s heart sunk.

“That’s my cue,” Alex said.

He stood up as the men began to lead the girls away. One of the men hoisted the bricks onto a portable cargo wagon. Faith jumped up and walked with Alex to the start of the trail. “Please don’t go,” she whispered, though she knew it was pointless.

Alex kissed her on the top of the head. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him tight.

When he left, she watched him until he was swallowed by the darkness. It might be the last time I see him, she thought. That idea hit her hard and made her fall to her knees in tears.