THE NEXT DAY AND NIGHT fly by as East and I sleep through it entirely. Exhaustion from fishing for hours the previous night took us out completely and the fish that we ate is long gone.
I’m still hungry. Starving.
My stomach cramps so hard it brings tears to my eyes, and all I want to do is sleep to escape the pain of hunger, the unrelenting insanity of thirst. To be surrounded by water and not being able to have any is a torture I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.
My lips are so dry they crack and bleed almost constantly now. I lick the blood, thinking at least maybe then I can quench some of this thirst, and I’m brought back to my earlier thought of us being vampires. I laugh and thank God my father isn’t here to see his daughter slowly go insane.
“What’s so funny?” East rasps, his throat bone dry.
“I’m a vampire,” I laugh and lick my bottom lip again. The coppery taste of my blood is unpleasant but at least it’s something. I tilt my head towards East, laughing again when the world spins, and smile at him.
“Fuck, Taylor,” East whispers, his eyes sad, “stop licking your lips. You’re only making it worse.”
“It’s something, East. It’s something,” I whisper back, suddenly devastated, and my eyes burn with tears I can’t shed. There’s no liquid in my body. I’m a husk.
East reaches a hand over and rubs his thumb along my eyebrow before placing the back of his hand to my forehead. “Shit, you’re hot.”
“Thanks. I think you’re pretty hot too.” I grin deliriously back at him.
East shakes his head sadly and shifts closer to me. “No, baby. You’re burning up. I think you’re sick.”
“I’m dying,” I confess, frowning. My whole body aches, especially my shins. I want to tell him, explain to him it’s probably an infection in my cuts, but the words seem too big for my mouth.
East’s eyes become as crazy as I feel and he leans his forehead against mine. “No, you’re not. Go back to sleep. I’m going to take care of you.”
“I need to hold the light for you, how will you see?” I whisper, eyes already closed, mind drifting.
“It’s ok, Taylor. I’ve got this one. You get some sleep,” he whispers against my ear, nosing my straw-like hair briefly before disappearing. I want to swat him away because it tickles, but don’t have the strength.
“East,” I call out weakly before drifting into sleep, “don’t leave me.”
My body relaxes back no matter how much I tell it to stay alert and I lie there, helpless, and listen for him. I hear him unzip the side pocket containing all our medical supplies and maybe I don’t have to say anything after all.
I wonder how bad the infection looks then…
He’s back quickly and I tilt my head towards where I imagine he might be. Everything seems to be floating around.
“This is going to sting, but we need to clean them,” he leans down to whisper, but doesn’t wait for any sign from me to continue. “I’m sorry.”
I wish I could ask for what, but it wouldn’t matter as he presses the alcohol wipe against my legs and holds it there for a minute. At first I feel nothing but the coolness of the alcohol against my skin, then East begins to scrub it. The burn races up my body, goosebumps rising in its wake, and I want to scream.
A sound finally tears from my throat, the loudest sound I’ve heard in days. It startles both of us. East curses, apologizes, makes stupid promises, but all I can do is scream and pant through the terrible pain.
He rubs something on them and it feels a tiny bit better, then blows gently across my shins, and it reminds me so much of my dad I nearly bawl. Dad always blew on my scrapes. East wraps some gauze around them next and I want to yell at him for wasting supplies on a dying girl, but how do you argue with someone trying to save your life?
When he’s done, I can feel the exhaustion coming off him and feel guilty. East cleans up and comes to lie down next to me. I’m on my back, trying to control my breath as he moves close to me, resting his head against my shoulder. The intimacy of our positions should raise a flag, but I don’t think I’ve been closer to another person in my life.
His hand trembles as he wipes tears I didn’t know I cried from my face.
“You’re going to be ok,” he promises, but I say nothing. I’m not really sure he’s even speaking to me.
When I wake next, I roll over to find him gone. Sitting up fast, my hand clutches my head as it spins.
“Take it easy, you’ve been out for a while,” East says from somewhere in front of me, and I squint in the sunlight to see him rowing.
I still, not comprehending before I shoot to my feet, cursing silently when I sway and sink back down. I’m so fucking weak, and it’s not just from the infection. “What are you doing?”
East’s lips lift slightly before looking off to the left, clearly not wanting to get into this with me. “What does it look like?”
“I don’t think you want me to answer that, honestly,” I snarl and move gingerly until I’m standing, albeit unsteadily, in front of him. It’s then that I realize he’s taken off his shirt. Stupid.
I look around me, finding it flung carelessly to the side, and reach down to grab it. “Put this back on, I can already see your shoulders getting too red.”
“I’m too hot.” He shakes his head as he continues to row.
“East, stop!” I grab one of the paddles, and East pulls them until they’re resting on his lap.
“I am not going to sit here helpless. You almost died two days ago!” he snarls up at me.
I blink, stunned. Two days?
“East, you don’t even know where you’re going. We could be rowing further away from land.”
“Or we could be rowing to it, or in the path of a boat,” he counters, and his optimism sets my teeth on edge.
“If you want to participate in this exercise in futility, fine. You’re just killing yourself faster—”
“Wow, don’t mince your words, Taylor.” East smiles, but there’s nothing funny about it.
“At least wait until night. It makes no difference, right? You don’t know where you’re going, but at least you won’t have the sun beating down on you,” I cajole, hoping he sees reason in this, at least.
He’s quiet for a moment and I can tell he wants to argue, but he nods and pulls the paddles inside, securing them before waving me to sit in front of him.
“Come here, I need to check your legs.”
I sit down on the bench opposite him. East gently takes my right leg in his hand and places my foot in the spot between his legs. I look out to sea to avoid showing off the blush racing across my cheeks.
We’ve been so intimate with each other, in every way but sexual, yet somehow it’s much more. He’s my partner in survival. He saved my life and I his. It’s weird to feel so comfortable this quickly around a stranger—and he is, even with the imminent death confessionals we made in the beginning, still a stranger.
I look back to my leg as he begins to unwrap the gauze, wincing slightly as it sticks.
“Sorry,” East murmurs, having felt me tighten up.
I lean down as it comes off completely, grimacing at the sight. “Gross.”
“It looks so much better,” East assures me.
The worst cut, the one that got infected, is about four inches, but not too deep. It’s slightly swollen and covered in dried blood. Dried…ugh, disgusting…pus is stuck to my skin. I poke the edges and there’s pain, but nothing crazy. I’d rather feel something there than nothing.
“It was bright red and crazy hot,” East continues, dipping some clean gauze in the water and bringing it to my leg.
“I can do it,” I murmur, taking it from him and doing my best to clean it up.
We’re quiet as I clean up one leg as he works on the other, when I realize I never thanked him.
“East.” I pause my gentle scrubbing and look up at him. It’s like I’m actually seeing him for the first time. Affection surges inside me and I tighten my grip on the gauze I’m using to prevent myself from hugging him. “Thank you for saving my life.”
He looks away quickly, as if embarrassed, and I want to tease him. He nods and continues helping me clean my wounds. For someone so strong and assured in the boardroom, he seems completely stripped of ego out here.
But then again, I don’t really know him, and maybe he’s really like this with everyone.
There’s a slight twinge in my stomach at the thought and I realize it’s jealousy. I roll my eyes. Get over yourself, Taylor. You have no right to be possessive over someone simply because you ended up in the same lifeboat together.
I lean over my knees to get a better look and wiggle my shoulders as my hair slides into my face. Ugh, I feel disgusting. I’m still covered in smoke, dirt, and God knows what else. Thank God I haven’t had to use the restroom, although the reason for it is scary. East just faces away from me and pees off the side of the boat. Nothing like that to bond you on the first day.
I wind my hair up and try my best to tie it into a knot on top of my head. It’s so crisp from the saltwater and sun; it makes it difficult to style.
“Are you worried about how you look?” East asks, amused.
I look at him drolly. “I’m well aware I’ve never looked worse. You should see yourself, stud. My problem is my skin feels like it’s crawling off my bones and my hair is so crisp I could probably break it clean off. I want a shower.”
I sigh and squint up at the cloudless sky. I guess it would be too much to hope for some rain.