Page 50 of Lucky 14

Blonde hair and pale skin. Just like Holland.

I’m too far to see her face perfectly, but I dart toward her anyway.

“Holland!”

The woman’s head whips toward me, and I recognize her immediately. Only, I’m struck by how haunted she looks. What I saw in the pictures was a well-put-together businesswoman with clean hair and a practiced smile. Today she’s covered in grime, and her eyes are wide. Frantically, she stuffs the bag.

“Holland, wait!” I’m about thirty feet from her. Trying to run in the sand is next to impossible. My feet keep sinking, but I have a fresh bout of energy. I found her! I found her, and now I can somehow get her and me off this island. We can go back home.

Holland scrambles up with her bag.

“Wait!” I call, but she turns and starts running. “I’m trying to help.”

Fuck, don’t run from me! I put on the speed, gaining on her. I can’t let her disappear into the trees. I get close enough to reach out, snatching at her clothes. “I’m trying⁠—”

Holland whips around, a feral scream on her lips. And then something is flying at my head. I don’t see what it is until a sharp pain lances across my skull and lights flash in my vision. She slams into me, knocking me backwards. I fall on my ass, and there’s a weight on top of me. It’s Holland. She’s beating her fists down on me, screaming, the sound loud and harsh.

“Fuck.” Rolling, I try to dislodge her from my hips. “Shhhh!” She’s going to attract the other hunters.

Bucking my hips, I throw Holland to the side, rolling on top of her in the sand. My head pounds, and I feel warmth dripping down my face.

Holland struggles under me. Finally, I make eye contact with her, and I am met with the most crystal-clear blue eyes. For a second, they take my breath away.

Then, she spits at me.

Sucking in a breath, I stare in shock. “Fuck, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you motherfucker.” She’s thrashing, but she’s small, and the backpack on her back is restricting her movements. I wince, looking around to see if anyone has heard us.

“Please, be quiet,” I plead. “I’m here to help you.”

“Suck my cock, motherfucker!”

I check the treeline. Oh my god, people are going to hear her. I try pleading with her again, but she continues to fight me. I don’t want to put my hand over her mouth. I don’t even feel right pinning her down.

Then, I hear the motor of the golf cart.

Panic laces through my veins. Fuck, Wyatt is coming back. He can’t see me trying to help her.

So, I get up.

Holland darts to her feet and starts to run down the beach.

I cuss, following after her. “Holland, please.” I need her to disappear into the treeline with me. I need her to understand. “I’m here to get you out.”

She keeps running. Fucking fuck. I chase after her, grabbing her arm.

She whirls on me, and I raise my free hand, starting to pull her toward the trees. “Please, I’m so sorry. Let me help you.”

Holland punches me in the eye. It’s a hard hit, and my head snaps to the side. I’m stunned for a second.

And a second is all it takes for Holland to break free. I reach out to grab her, but she’s running again, and I’m dizzy. My head throbs, and the world spins. I try to run, but I end up falling to my knees. The overwhelming need to vomit overtakes me, and my stomach clenches, my body taking over.

When I look up again, Holli has disappeared into the trees.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Day 3