I STAY TRUE TO MY word and don’t wander far from where he spends the next few hours fishing. Along with firewood, I grabbed some large palms and wove some makeshift hats for us. I’ve gotten pretty good at this weaving shit over the last couple weeks. Plus, the sun is brutal on our eyes. I’m tired of squinting, and poor East’s face looks like a tomato. A very handsome tomato, but red as hell.
I hear a shout and see East treading water, lifting something into the air. Shading my eyes, I move to the edge of the water. “What is it?”
“Lobster! We’re eating fancy tonight, baby!” His laugh carries easily over the distance and sound of the surf. My breath catches at his endearment and I give him a thumbs-up, smiling widely at his enthusiasm.
It’s when he starts to swim towards me that I notice the dark shape in the water. I move closer, wondering if that’s him or—
“East!” I scream at the top of my lungs, terrified as I realize it’s a fucking shark. East stops swimming and I scream again, waving my hands towards the beach. “Shark!”
The dark shape circles around him again and vomit rises in my throat. East’s swimming now, as fast as he can, spear gone but still hanging onto that stupid lobster. Idiot!
I look around for something to help and grab the knife before running into the water. So stupid, but I’m not losing him. Not after everything. East sees me wading into the water and swims faster, if that’s possible. I go waist deep and move as far to the right as I can. Without wasting any more time and breathing deeply, I cut a small gash along my thigh, right above the knee. I whimper as pain rockets through my body and the clear blue water stains red as blood immediately flows.
White knuckling the knife, I look up to see the shark come close enough to the surface that I can make out both fins cutting through the water. “Come on, you bastard. Come on!” I yell. Please, God, this has to work. They can smell blood up to a mile away, right? I’m only ten feet away. “Come on!”
I watch as it gets so close to East that my vision goes black for a moment before I start splashing the bloody water. Turn towards me, you fucker, come this way.
Then, as if hearing my taunts, it turns towards me, its slick body cutting through the water so quickly it momentarily shocks me. My grip tightens on the knife, wondering where East is, whether he’s safe, but I’m too afraid to look away from the monster coming right for me.
“Taylor!” East screams from behind me, jolting me out of my shock, and I back away, finally turning and doing my best to run through the water.
I sob a breath, my panicked eyes meeting East’s wild ones as he runs towards me. “East!”
My injured leg gives out as I make it out to knee-deep water. East splashes his way in, scooping me up and running the rest of the way to the beach. I lay my head on his chest, exhausted from shock, listening to his pounding heart as he carries me all the way back to camp.
“I can’t believe you did that!” he hisses, setting me down and running for the first aid kit. “What were you thinking?” he yells, ripping open some alcohol wipes and rubbing one across my cut immediately.
Wincing, I dig my hands into the sand behind me. “You, dumbass. I was thinking I didn’t want to see you become shark food.”
He snarls something under his breath and grabs the gauze, wrapping my leg and tying it off efficiently despite the shaking of his hands. He’s become quite the little medic since my infection.
He finishes packing up the kit in silence and I watch him warily. I’ve never seen him so angry before. Suddenly he spins around and kneels over me, resting his forehead against mine.
“Nothing can happen to you, Taylor. You’re not expendable,” he whispers harshly.
“You’re not expendable to me either, East. If I can do something to save you, I will. Always,” I whisper back, rocking my leg side to side as my cut throbs.
He turns his head and nuzzles his lips against my temple before gently kissing my cheek. I sit unmoving, wishing he’d stop overwhelming me but afraid he’ll stop.
“Taylor,” he whispers against my lips, asking permission, and I nod almost imperceptibly.
His mouth instantly crashes against mine and I close my eyes, so fucking relieved he feels it too. His lips feel perfect against mine, soft and hard at the same time. East coaxes my mouth open and dips his tongue in, tasting me, letting me taste him, and I moan, eager for more. I keep my hands in the sand in order not to grip him to me.
Too much too fast.
East moves closer, his body crowding mine, giving off so much heat it feels like the sun is shining out of him. I pull back slightly, whisper his name, and nip at his lips. East growls low and shifts closer. Pain shoots up from my legs and my vision goes black as a scream tears from my throat. East rips his mouth away and he frantically checks to make sure he didn’t cause any damage.
I drop back against the sand, panting both from his kiss and the pain. “East, stop, it’s ok.”
“It’s not ok!” he disagrees loudly, looking pale and worried. “I can’t believe I just attacked you while you’re injured.”
“You didn’t attack me, East,” I laugh weakly. “I clearly wanted it.”
East shakes his head, clearly still berating himself, and brings me over to the boat. He lays me down gently and drapes the tarp so I’m out of the sun. “Don’t move. I’m going to get you some water.”
I want to argue that it’s not a deep cut, that I wasn’t dying, but it’s no use. He’ll just continue to worry over me, and to be honest, it’s nice to have his attention. He brings me an empty coconut that I’ve been using as a cup and lifts the water to my lips.
I can’t help it; a snicker escapes, and I snark, “My arms aren’t broken.”
He glares at me, sitting back on his haunches. “Can you just let me take care of you? You just saved my life again.”
I smile at him gently. “It was my turn.”
He reaches out and caresses my hair before cupping my cheek. “Thank you, Taylor.”
I lean into his touch, willing my eyes not to fill again. “You’re welcome.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Always,” I laugh and see him relax.
“I’m going to cook up that lobster we fought so hard for.” He pats my uninjured leg. “I’ll be back.”
“East.” I wait until he turns back and point to one of the hats I weaved for us. “Put one of those hats on, please. It’ll protect your face and shoulders.”
“Something wrong with my face?” He smiles but grabs the leaf hat and plops it on his head.
“Go make me food, idiot.” I laugh at how ridiculous he looks, but it works. His face is now protected from the sun’s glare.
“Right away, milady.” He bows dramatically and disappears from sight.
I wait until I hear him puttering around before covering my face with my hands, shaking like a leaf in the wind. I can’t believe I just did that. I can’t believe East almost died! From a shark! I change my mind. I hate this place; I want to go home. I want a bed and air conditioning. I want coffee and a hamburger. I want to be safe. I want East to be safe.
“Smells good already!” he calls out, and I blow out an unsteady breath, willing myself under control. He needs me to be strong, so I force every ounce of it into my voice.
“Can’t wait!”
East refuses to let me do anything for the next two days, my stint with an infection before we landed here fueling his argument for sitting around on my ass. He did not want me getting sick again.
Watching the dark memories flit behind his eyes is more than enough to get me to refrain from arguing. Luckily, it’s those same memories that have him sticking around. He still tries to go spear fishing, but he stays closer to the shore and I serve as a lookout.
Our successes have far out numbered our failures; luck is clearly on our side, so it’s hard to swallow that we’re still undiscovered. The loud crashing of the waves against the shore draws me out of my pouting and I focus back on the water.
I sit up straighter when I notice how strong the sea looks, especially beyond the sandbar. The waves are bigger and the current is clear in the water, moving fast. My hair tickles my face as the wind picks up and has me looking up at the sky. The sun is still shining brightly, but there is definitely more cloud cover.
I rest my hand on the butterflies in my stomach as I worriedly watch our fire; the signs of an incoming storm are too strong to ignore. The flames begin to flicker faster with the increasing wind.
I just had to go on thinking about how lucky we are.
East left over an hour ago to get more water, not that it mattered now, and it would take him probably an hour to get back. Hopefully he feels the change in the environment and hurries back.
In the meantime, sitting around with my thumb up my ass isn’t going to help us. I hurry up to the tree line and gather as much firewood as I can and pile it under a large palm.
I run back to our boat and worry my lip when I see how close it is to the water. I grip the front lip of the boat and try to pull, to no avail. It’s securely wedged into the beach. I hope it’s wedged far enough in this sand not to wash away.
I grab the tarp and place all our food, medical supplies, and all our other random stuff on top to pull towards the firewood. I tie the ends of the tarp to branches, creating a hurried lean-to facing away from the beach. Hopefully the trees will slow any wind gusts down. Looking around, I find some larger rocks and pile them around the sides to make sure it doesn’t blow away.
Doing my best to clean out the sand beneath the tarp of any rocks, sticks, and bugs, I don’t hear East yelling for me until he’s right behind me.
“I thought I told you to stay,” he huffs, out of breath from his run on the beach.
I shoot him an incredulous look over my shoulder. “Well, as I’m not a dog and there’s a storm coming, I decided not to wait around for the man to come home.”
He rolls his eyes and looks at the makeshift shelter I fashioned. “We need to make sure this is anchored.”
“I put rocks all around the edges. I can find some more?” I stand up from sweeping out the shelter and put my hands on my lower back, stretching.
East shakes his head, watching my movements closely. “I’ll find some more. Would you transfer the fire up here? We haven’t kept it going for weeks only to lose it now.”
Transfer the fire. I snort and walk gingerly down the beach. God, my leg is already killing me from the constant movement. My skin stretches tautly, pulling at the wound underneath, and I glance down to see red seeping through the gauze. Dammit, East is going to bitch about this.
Groaning, I reach the fire and study it. How the hell do you move a fire? He said it like it’s easily done. I look around for anything I can light on fire, maybe like a large matchstick? I glance up at our temporary camp and run back up there, looking up at the sky in panic. Normally around this time, the sun is bright and unrelenting, but the temperature clearly dropped and the sky is overcast.
I grab the biggest stick I can and notice my braid East cut off peeking out from under my woven hat. Grabbing that too, I wrap it around the top of the stick and grin.
“What is that?” East smiles at my triumphant face as he drops a bunch of rocks.
“A matchstick, torch thing. To move the fire!” I run backwards, waving it in the air like a sword and turn around, hurrying to the fire.
Dipping my hair in, it catches fire quickly and the acrid smell of burnt hair permeates the air, making my nose wrinkle with disgust. I go as fast as I can before it burns out and stick it in the middle of the pile. East appears with some bark to act as kindling and the fire ignites slow but steady. The tarp provides a buffer from the wind, thankfully, but still allows the smoke to escape.
“Aren’t you a little MacGyver?” East comments proudly.
I shrug but I’m pleased with myself. Being out here has shown me how innovative I can be. There’s a confidence I never had before and it’s beyond looks, beyond smarts. It’s based solely on my ability to not only survive, but to thrive.
“We’ve done a good job out here,” I comment, watching has he nestles the pot of water on the fire for it to boil.
East smiles up at me and nods. “I’m going to gather some more mussels and clams. I don’t know how long this storm is going to last, but we should have a little stockpile.”
I watch him run down to the beach and wait until he’s out of sight before removing my bandage. The scab that had healed over is cracked, blood seeping slowly out of the wound. I dip the clean part of my bandage into the hot water, unwilling to use another alcohol wipe on myself, and clean up the blood before covering my cut with more antiseptic and bandaging it.
Tying off the ends, I nearly jump out of my skin at the first boom of thunder. The leaves of the trees move loudly now, wind whistling through them. Standing up, I leave our shelter in the trees and cup my hands over my mouth, yelling for East to come back. He waves his hand in acknowledgement, but the sea behind him has my attention.
Waves grow in height and crash against one another, reminding me of our first night on the boat together. Shivering at the memory and the temperature, I rub my arms and refuse to go back inside our shelter without East.
He keeps glancing at me and even from here I can see the annoyance on his face that I’m not taking shelter and getting off my leg, but my plan works because he hurries back, arms empty of food. We’ll be fine; we have jackfruit and another lobster he captured that morning.
“What are you doing?” he growls, taking my hand and leading me back to the shelter.
“What are you doing? You should have come back at the first sound of thunder.” I argue, but let him drag along.
“Your health is more important,” East says, sitting down beside me.
“How do you figure? I’d be lost without you here. You need to stop taking chances for me.”
“It’s just thunder,” he mutters, digging his toes in the sand.
I sigh, scooting closer to him as another breeze whips through the tarp. “Can you just not argue with me on this? I’m freaked out.”
“We’ll be ok, I promise,” he affirms, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and nestling me into his side.
I keep my mouth shut, not wanting to argue about promises he can’t keep, and absorb his warmth as the first drops of rain begin to hit our roof.