My mind races, planning my next move.
The ferry docks are on the far side of the marina. If I skirt around the edge, staying in the shadows, I might make it. I can hide somewhere on the ferry until morning, and when it departs, I’ll be on it. Then I’ll be free.
The workers move away from the dock, heading toward a small building with yellow light spilling from its windows. Now’s my chance. I dart forward, my feet silent on the sand, keeping low to avoid being seen. The sandals dangling frommy hand bounce against my thigh with each step. I try not to think about what Marcus and Lorenzo did to me and how part of me wanted more.No, I need to focus.
Escape now, sort through confusing feelings later.
As I near the docks, the sand gives way to wooden planks. I slow my pace, placing each foot carefully to avoid making noise. The gentle lap of waves against the boat hulls masks my movements as my eyes scan the vessels moored along the jetty, searching for the ferry.
I move toward it, my heart racing.
Just a few more yards and I’ll be able to jump aboard, find somewhere to hide, and wait for morning. I’m so focused on the ferry that I don’t notice the slick patch on the dock until it’s too late. My bare foot slides out from under me, and I pitch forward with a startled cry.
For one horrible moment, I’m suspended in midair, arms windmilling uselessly. Then gravity claims me, and I plunge into the freezing ocean.
The cold water hits me, driving the air from my lungs in a rush of bubbles. I sink beneath the surface, the shock momentarily paralyzing my limbs as the icy water closes over my head. My dress billows around me like a jellyfish, tangling my legs as I struggle to orient myself in the darkness. Panic claws at my throat, and I kick frantically, fighting my way back to the surface.
Fuck!I break through with a desperate gasp, coughing and spitting salt water. The cold is intense, seeping into my bones, making my teeth chatter violently. My muscles are already stiffening, protesting the sudden temperature drop.
I need to get out of the water.
The dock looms above me, too high to reach from the water. I spot a ladder a few feet away and swim toward it with clumsy strokes, my waterlogged dress hampering mymovements. Each breath is a ragged gasp, the air burning my salt-raw throat.
The metal rungs of the ladder are slippery and ice-cold against my palms as I haul myself up, water cascading from my clothes in noisy rivulets. I collapse onto the dock, shivering uncontrollably, trying to catch my breath. I’ve lost one of my sandals to the ocean, the other still dangling from my wrist by its strap like some bizarre bracelet. My dress clings to every curve of my body, the thin fabric now completely transparent.
“Hey! What are you doing there?”
The shout comes from behind me, and I whirl around to see a man striding down the dock, his face tight with suspicion. He’s wearing a marina uniform, a flashlight in one hand, illuminating my drenched form. I scramble to my feet, panic surging anew.
“I—I fell in,” I stammer, wrapping my arms around myself in a futile attempt at modesty.
“This area is off-limits after dark,” he says, his eyes narrowing as he looks me up and down. “Were you trying to get on that boat?”
“I just wanted to see it,” I lie, backing away slowly. “I’m staying at the resort and went for a walk. That’s all.”
He doesn’t believe me; I can see it in the set of his jaw, the way his hand moves to the radio clipped to his belt. “I’m going to need to see some ID,” he says firmly. “And I’ll have to report this to security.”
Security means Ryker. Security means being taken back to the mansion, back to the men who want to keep me as their personal breeder. Fear surges through me like an electric current, and before I can think better of it, I turn and run.
“Hey! Stop right there!” the man yells behind me, but I’m already sprinting down the dock, water flying from my sodden clothes with each desperate step.
I have no plan now beyond escape. I race back toward thebeach, veering away from the marina buildings where more workers might be waiting. The trees ahead offer darkness, cover, somewhere to hide until I can figure out my next move. My feet slap against the wooden planks, then sink into wet sand as I hit the beach, my lungs burning with exertion.
Behind me, I hear shouting, the beam of a flashlight cutting through the darkness. They’re coming after me. I push myself harder, ignoring the pain in my bare feet as I hit rougher terrain. The woods loom ahead, a wall of shadows promising temporary safety.
I plunge into the forest, branches whipping at my face and arms as I crash through the undergrowth. It’s so dark here, the moonlight barely penetrating the dense canopy above. I can’t see where I’m going, and I can only push blindly forward, praying I don’t run into a tree or fall into a ravine. The sounds of pursuit start to fade behind me.
I don’t slow down. Not yet. Not until I’m sure I’ve lost them.
After what feels like an eternity of stumbling through the darkness, I collapse against the trunk of a massive tree, sliding down to sit among its roots. My whole body trembles with cold and exhaustion. My dress is still soaking wet, clinging to my skin like a shroud of ice. The night air, which felt pleasantly warm earlier, now cuts through my wet clothes like a knife. The wind has picked up, each gust sending fresh shivers through my body.
I huddle there, hugging my knees to my chest, trying to conserve what little body heat I have left. My teeth chatter so hard I’m afraid they might break, and my fingers are numb, tinged with blue in the faint moonlight that filters through the leaves. My purse drips beside me, a steady patter on the forest floor. My phone is inside, and I quickly rummage through it. Pulling my phone out, I try to turn it on, but it’s totally ruined by the water.
The absurdity of my situation hits me suddenly, and I have to clamp a hand over my mouth to stifle a hysterical laugh that threatens to become a sob.
What the fuck am I doing? Running through the woods in the middle of the night, soaking wet, no shoes, no plan, no hope of escape? Even if I somehow survive until morning, the boat people know I tried to sneak aboard. They’ll be watching for me now.
I bow my head, pressing my forehead against my knees as despair washes over me. There’s no way off this island without their permission. There’s no escape from whatever fate awaits me as their omega. Hot tears mix with the cold water on my cheeks as I cry without realizing it.
