Lock

She hasn’t spoken a single word to me in days.

Not since we fucked in the lake.

I don’t know why, but every time I attempt to start a conversation, it’s as if I’m talking to a wall. She refuses to even acknowledge I’m here, which pisses me off. Have I done something wrong? Have I insulted her?

Who knows, but she won’t tell me.

I want her to be happy, but it’s proving to be difficult when she won’t even tell me what she wants from me.

It’s because of what I did. What we did. Even though she won’t admit it, she had just as much a part in what happened as I did.

She peeked at my cock. Couldn’t stop herself from letting me fondle her.

And then she ran, and I followed her and claimed her anyway.

She didn’t stop me either.

She wanted me to fuck her, and now she regrets it.

That’s what this is. It has to be. Why else would she continuously stomp around the hut while throwing angry glances my way without acknowledging I even exist?

She’s not mad at me. She’s mad at herself for letting me in.

But I don’t regret staking my claim. Not even for one second.

That pussy was the most delicious thing I’ve tasted in a long while, and I fully intend to lick it again. It’s only a matter of time before she gives in to temptation. And I’ll be right there to kiss her and make all the doubts disappear.

Meanwhile, I’ll just watch with amusement as she toils with my equipment, trying to construct god knows what. Some kind of oval-shaped bench or something. I don’t fucking care. I enjoy seeing her get all worked up.

I don’t know what it is about us, but the more we hate each other, the more we seem attracted to each other. And I don’t even fucking mind. It’s been such a long time since I last felt this … let alone any kind of emotion. I welcome it with open arms—including her—no matter how fussy she is, or how cold she can get, or how badly she wants to get rid of me.

She’ll never fully erase me from her memories anyway.

As a matter of fact, I think she’s started taking on some of my quirks.

Most notably, she hasn’t worn her clothes since she took them off.

They’re lying on the ground, completely soaked in water mixed with herbs.

She’s not nude, though. Unfortunately, she’s wearing a makeshift banana leaf skirt now. Just like me, only hers looks like it took an awful lot of work to make. It’s completely pasted on her skin, sewed together with a piece of rope she stole from my hut. I don’t mind. If it makes her feel more comfortable, have at it.

As I sit outside on one of the wooden stumps and slice some of the fish, she keeps throwing wicked glances at me.

“What?” I bark, wanting to know what she’s thinking.

Her nose twitches, and she spits, “Nothing.”

Wow, a word. That’s more than she’s given me the past few hours.

“Are you mad at me?”

She doesn’t respond. As always. Instead, I get a mean look.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I say. “I did nothing you didn’t want me to do.”

When she glares at me and raises a brow, I glare right back and grin. “It’s the truth.”

She sighs and returns to cutting that oddly shaped wood. However, her banana leaves get stuck on a sharp edge, and she loses half of them, exposing the left side of her ass.

“Ooh,” I mumble, enjoying the view.

Her face turns red, and she screams, “Stop looking at me!”

“Why? Nothing I haven’t seen before,” I muse. “And it’s everything I like.”

She picks up a fallen twig and chucks it at my face. “Not funny!”

I lean sideways and easily avoid it. “Wasn’t meant to be,” I reply. “Why are you so afraid of me? I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. And you definitely wanted me back there.”

“Stop talking about that,” she says, holding up her hand. “Please.”

“Why? Nothing to be scared of. I won’t bite. Unless you want me to.” I wink at her, but that only makes her face contort in rage.

“I don’t care!” she says.

“Yeah, you do. That’s why you’re getting yourself all worked up. Because you care too much,” I say, trying not to laugh. “I don’t mind, Jules. You can be angry all you want. No one’s here to judge. It’s just us. You and me.”

“Maybe I don’t want that,” she says. “Ever crossed your mind?”

“Never,” I say, shrugging in denial.

“Whatever,” she spits, and she throws the tools onto the ground and marches off.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“Nowhere. And don’t follow me!” she screams as she disappears into the jungle.

But since when have I ever listened?

Never.

* * *

Juliet

I march off toward the beach without as much as a bottle of water with me. I just needed to get out of there … away from him. I don’t fucking care what he thinks right now. All I want is to be alone, but he won’t let me.

Am I mad? Fuck, yes.

I just don’t know who’s at fault. Him or me?

We had sex, and I blame both of us for that.

I could’ve resisted, could’ve pushed him away, but no, my sleepy head had to give in so easily. He could’ve let me be, could’ve let me go to the lake on my own and went back to sleep, but he didn’t.

It’s both our faults, which is why I’m so pissed. Not at the fact that he got what he was after. Not at the fact I actually wanted it so much.

No, I’m pissed because we didn’t use protection.

There isn’t any. Not here on this godforsaken island. Goddammit.

I kick a rock on the way to the beach, but my toes immediately regret it, and I hop on one leg as I bite my tongue and scream some more.

Annoyed, I continue walking until I get to the rocky part of the beach. There, I pick up some of the less heavier rocks and drag them all the way to the sandy part of the beach.

Yeah, that’s right. I’m going to make an SOS signal using rocks. Old school way. One rock at a time.

I’m pouring out all my frustrations into lifting these rocks. And right now, I don’t give a shit how long it takes me to put them all together to form a word. I’ll go on until it’s night if I have to. I won’t stop until it’s done.

Several hours pass before I have the first two huge letters complete. However, the moment I haul myself back to the place I found the rocks, Lock appears from the jungle.

“Jules.”

Oh shit.

I look up and then continue walking, ignoring the knot in my stomach as it grows tighter with every passing second.

“Jules!” His voice rings in my ears, but I ignore it.

He might want to talk, but I don’t.

He’ll only sway my heart to stay when I shouldn’t. I should go back home. Where I belong.

I pick up another rock. Within seconds, he’s right in front of me and snatches it away from me. With a loud grunt, he hurls it into the ocean.

“What the hell!” I scream, and I slap his chest. “Get out of my face!”

“No,” he growls back. “Stop this.”

“No, fuck you,” I hiss, and I grab another one … which he immediately steals from me and chucks into the ocean. Again.

“What is wrong with you?” I sneer.

“What’s wrong with you?” he interjects. “You’re acting all strange.”

“Of course, I am,” I scoff, walking past him.

“Are you mad at me?” he asks, following my footsteps through the sand.

“Is it that obvious?” I glance at him over my shoulder, and I immediately regret it.

“What did I do to you?” he asks.

I don’t respond because I don’t know what to say. He won’t understand.

“Jules. Stop.” Out of nowhere, he grabs my arm and spins me around.

“What’s your problem?” I spit. “Just let me do my thing and you do yours.”

“No, that’s a fucking signal,” he growls back, pointing at the stones in the sand. “You think I’m going to let you finish? Fuck no.”

“Let go,” I hiss, and I jerk my arm free and stumble on.

He tails right behind me, so I start to run.

But it’s no use … I can’t escape him.

I can’t escape this island.

Not any of it.

And the moment he catches me, we tumble down onto the warm sand, rolling over until he’s on top of me.

“Get off me,” I hiss.

“No,” he says.

So I slap him.

He doesn’t budge. It’s as if the pain doesn’t even faze him.

“Let me go,” I say.

“No. Not until you calm down.”

“I wanna go home,” I say, trying to look anywhere else but at him.

But it’s no use. He’s right up in my face, forcing me to face with what I’ve done.

“Why? Do you hate this place so much?”

Part of me wants to scream yes. But that would be a lie.

The truth is, this place has been liberating, to say the least.

No more judgment. No more rules. No more stress.

But what did I have to sacrifice in return? My home. Comfort. My family and colleagues.

Families out there waiting to hear the bad news about Pete and Ollie. They died for the research we were supposed to do here.

And what did I do? Nothing.

I fucked a man from the jungle.

“Why can’t you let me go?” I ask, tears welling up in my eyes.

“This isn’t about me, and you know it,” he says.

“Just shut up,” I plead, closing my eyes. “Please.”

“No. You said you wouldn’t try anymore. That was a lie.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I can’t stay here. Don’t you understand? I have a life off this island,” I say, trying to push him off me, but it’s no use. He’s far stronger than I am. “I have to contact them.”

“No,” he says.

“Why?” I scream, punching him again.

“Stop,” he says, pinning my hands above my head. “You’re only hurting yourself.”

“Fuck you,” I spit.

“Well, fuck you too,” he says, a familiar grin spreading on his lips. “In fact, we already did that.”

Grinding my teeth, I growl, “You seduced me.”

“And you practically begged me to,” he muses.

“Liar,” I hiss.

“Oh, yeah? And what was that touching my dick in the middle of the night all about then?”

“It was a mistake,” I reply.

“Really?” He raises one eyebrow. “Or are you just saying that because it’s easier to lie to yourself?”

I part my lips, but there is no witty response. No comeback. Nothing.

Just … goddammit.

“Why do you still resist?” he asks. His thumb caresses my cheeks, lingering on my lips as he leans over. “You can feel it too, can’t you?” He presses a soft kiss to my lips, numbing the pain.

But I don’t want him to numb the pain.

I gather the last bit of my strength and push myself away from him, crawling across the sand.

“Why won’t you let me love you?” he asks.

“Love? Love?” I make a face. Does he even know what that is?

“Yes. I like you … and I want you,” he says, his eyes as desperate as his words.

“How do you even know what love is?” I ask.

“I learned it … before I came here.” He clears his throat.

“But love needs more than sex,” I reply.

“I can give that to you,” he says. “Whatever you need.”

It’s all so simple to him.

But the thing is, he can’t give me what I need.

“Won’t you stay?” The pain in his voice feels like a sharp knife to the back.

“I can’t,” I say, shaking my head. “What if I get pregnant?”

“You mean …?” He gazes at my belly, and I immediately rub it.

“I don’t know,” I reply. “But we had sex, Lock. Unprotected.”

A smile appears on his face. One of genuine joy. “A baby. Hmm …” He crawls closer and places a hand on my belly too. “Yes, I want you to carry my baby.”

“What?” My jaw drops. “No, no, no. Not happening.”

I can’t believe he’s actually thinking of having babies. On this island.

“Why not?”

“Because … we’re on a fucking island?!” I say, my eyes practically bulging out of my head. “Have you lost your mind?”

“No.”

I glare at him for a second before it sinks in that he’s totally serious right now.

He’s not kidding. He really wants to have a baby.

Holy shit.

I never imagined that.

I’ve never even thought about it.

Me? A baby?

I can’t.

I’m not the right person. I’m not a good mother.

“I …” I sigh.

How do I even respond to such a thing? This isn’t something I want to be thinking about right now.

“What?” Lock grabs my chin and forces me to look at him. “Please, Jules. How can I make you happy?”

Oh god. When he says it like that, it’s almost impossible to say no.

“Why do you want me to stay so badly, Lock?” I ask. “You said you wanted to be left alone.”

“Because I like you,” he mumbles.

His words turn my heart into a mushy mess.

“But we don’t even know each other,” I say, frowning.

“Yeah, we do. You prefer greens over meat. You like soft beds. You like how the jungle smells in the morning and prefer to go to bed after sundown. You like to take showers with herbs, and you’re a good cook and a good cleaner. And you enjoy working on the hut too.”

“But …” I laugh and shake my head even though it isn’t funny. It’s sweet that he considers all that ‘knowing me.’

He lowers his head so he can look me in the eye. “That’s all that matters to me.”

“But I need more …” I reply.

And I don’t mean babies.

God, I’m so glad he didn’t bring that up again.

“What? Tell me,” he asks.

“Well, I don’t know anything about you,” I say, trying to fill the void. I really don’t know much about him.

A difficult frown marks his face. “Like what?”

“You won’t tell me anything about you. The you from before this island. Where you came from. Why you left. Who you were.”

It would help me understand why he is the way he is.

Maybe make things easier.

His face darkens, and his shoulders slump. “Oh … no.” He shakes his head. “I told you, I don’t like talking about that.”

There it is again. The avoidance.

“But why? Why are you so desperate to keep people away? What did they do to you?”

He looks away, visibly strained. “I can’t …”

But I still want to know. “Why?”

He sneers, “Because you’d definitely leave if you knew.”

Now my curiosity is definitely piqued. “Knew what?”

“Everything.”