Page 31 of Redemption Island

“Then you better summon your imaginary friend,” Colton snarked. Anger certainly lived when he was near. In fact, it roared to life with his presence.

“Yeah, shut the fuck up,” I snarled. It was clear he lacked balance, or he’d understand better. Imaginary or not, Juliet had become my other half.

+ +

I tried. I did. But dancing around the campfire was just asinine. I was a grown man, and even though no one could see me, I couldn’t comprehend what I needed to discover from prancing around a circle of logs. Ironically, the trees appeared to dance as the wind picked up, and they swayed side to side. Some of them even bent gracefully backward, as if they were being dipped by a lover. I’d been taught to dance, as all young men in my social category had, so I knew the tango, the merengue, and even a salsa dance or two, but I wasn’t about to dirty dance with myself.

I stalled from my attempt as a loud crackle of lightning came from up the mountain. The sky had grown dark and the stars were missing, hidden by angry clouds. Suddenly, the heavens opened and water beat down like the gods turned on a faucet. Another sharp rumble of thunder followed a second spark of lightning rippling up the sky. My thoughts immediately jumped to Juliet, and what she’d told me about her parents. She feared the lightning. While I should have taken cover into my dry tent, I raced for her tree house instead.

To my surprise, the ladder hung down as if she were expecting me. It kicked out in the increasing wind and I struggled at first to climb. The rungs were slick, and the rain was nearly sideways as if it scooped up the bay and flicked it at me. Something slammed above my head, and I hastened my climb.

“Juliet,” I yelled, as I crossed onto the porch platform. It only took one large step to reach her door. I opened it against the force of the wind and slammed it behind me after I entered. Looking at the empty bed, I yelled again.

“Mouse!” My eyes quickly surveyed the small enclosure before finding her huddled on the floor near the table. Her knees were drawn up, and her head tucked against them like she’d been the night of the snake attack.

“Mouse.” I breathed a sigh of relief as I squatted before her. I was soaking wet, and I reached sideways for a towel hanging over the back of a chair, swiping it over my face and my hair. She didn’t look up at me.

“Hang on,” I said, lifting the wet T-shirt over my head. I shifted to sit next to her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and setting the towel over my lap.

“Come here, Mouse. We’ll stay right here, but you’re going to let me hold you, so you know you’re safe.” I gently nudged her to move forward, slipping her onto my lap. She tucked her head into my shoulder and her palm flattened on my chest. My arm curled around her lower back, resting my hand on her hip.

“I’ve got you,” I whispered, pressing my lips to her forehead as she flinched against me after another crack and shock of light. My other hand smoothed up and down her arm.

“Want to talk?” I asked, stretching for something to distract her. She shook her head against my shoulder.

“How about we kiss?” I teased, but she shook her head again, letting out a squeak at another snapping sound outside the tree house. I momentarily thought our position in a tree might not be the safest place for us, but I didn’t risk moving her. I liked that she let me hold her. I liked that I felt she needed me. I liked trying to protect her.

“Okay, baby. We’ll just sit here. All night, if that’s what it takes.” I pressed her closer to me. Her arm snaked around my neck, and she pulled herself flush against my chest. Her face buried in the space between my neck and shoulder, and she kissed me briefly.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Her appreciation pleased me. In that moment, I was more than a little prince. I was king of the jungle.

26

Day 61 – Juliet

After Lillian’s visit, I was shaken. My uncle had come to her for money. He’d spent all he received when my parents died—what little there had been after the sale of their home and depleting their bank account. Thoughts of him worsened my fear of lightning. I hadn’t told Tack that one night I found my uncle standing at the end of my bed. The flashing light from a storm startled me awake, and I heard his heavy breathing as the thunder subsided for a moment. Holding my own breath, I deciphered the sound of skin slapping skin. I couldn’t look, and my eyes twitched as another brilliant flash crossed through my window. The slick sound increased, and my heart raced as I realized what he was doing to himself. He groaned at his climax, and I swallowed back the bile in my throat.

“Oh, Juliet. One day you’ll give me everything I want from you,” he muttered in the darkness of my room before lightning sparked again. Even after he left my room, I couldn’t move, frozen with fear at the storm, his words, and his actions. After that night, I locked my room each time I went to sleep, but I didn’t trust him when I was awake, either. I lived in a perpetual state of fear until I graduated high school and escaped the trailer park. I begged Lillian not to involve him in the proceedings related to the manslaughter case. Lillian said if there was any evidence I had a living relative, the experiment could be recalled. I needed a family member in case of a dead body. Even the thought of him claiming me in death made me shiver.

“He wanted money, but this isn’t a contest. You aren’t winning a million dollars by surviving. This is about you and your reflective process,” Lillian reminded me. She was correct, but the fact my uncle knew my whereabouts worried me. How could I return to Baltimore if he knew I lived there? What would happen when my time on the island was complete? Where would I go? What would become of Tack and me?

A greater question bothered me—had I atoned for my crime?

Thoughts of killing Rick niggled at me. I hadn’t meant to kill Tack’s friend. I hadn’t thought of him like that—someone’s friend, someone’s son, someone’s lover. But then again, Rick hadn’t thought of me in that regard, and neither had Tack, until we were forced together. Could I forgive my attackers? Could I absolve them of what they did to me? In many ways, it wasn’t a matter of forgiving what happened, but taking back control of my life for me. Hadn’t Tack deserved that right as well? Even if I once hated him. Even if I once wished him dead, like his friend. How had everything changed? When had the shift occurred? How did I let go of the pain in order to enjoy pleasure?

I’d wrapped myself around Tack and held onto him like a life preserver, hoping to weather the storm with his strength circling me. Through the course of the night, I’d fallen asleep, despite the rumble of rain and the distancing lightning. I woke in his arms, which were slack from his sleep but still draped over my legs and around my back. I shifted, sensing he had to be uncomfortable with my weight on him all night, but his arms engulfed me and pressed me to his chest. I giggled a little.

“What’s so funny?” His sleep-laden voice was rough and sexy. Something long and hard pressed against my hip. My thighs clenched and my core pulsed.

“I thought you were sleeping.”

“I thought I was dreaming you in my lap,” he said, roughness still in his throat as his lips pressed to my head.

“I weigh too much to sit on your lap like this,” I said, pressing back on his chest, but his hands tightened on me again.

“Yet you’ve been here all night,” he teased, his eyes still closed. “You can straddle me instead if you’d like. You know, balance out the weight and all.” My head shot back, and I looked up at him to see his eyes still closed but a smirk on his face. He was teasing me without any threat. I shifted, and he groaned, the length of his excitement evident in his shorts. I shifted once again, removing the towel he had placed over his lap, and crawling over him. His eyes slowly opened.

“Keep them closed,” I whispered, testing his trust. My thighs straddled either side of his. He squeezed his eyes shut but his eyebrows rose as my palms flattened on his lower abs and climbed up the ladder of his chest.