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He stalks toward me, and I’m immediately paralyzed by his stare. It’s only when he crouches down and starts tying the makeshift rope around the leg of the bed that I realize I’m standing right in front of it.
Heart in my stomach, I take a step back, giving him room to fashion it around the post securely, and then bundle the excess under the bed.
“I’ve snuck up here a few times to loosen the window. It was stiff at first, but you should be able to get it open no problem,” he explains. “Try it just in case.”
I don’t like this scenario. One where I’m escaping alone. But it’s smart to be prepared, so I plant my hands on the window and push up. It takes effort, but it’s doable.
“Good,” he says before shoving it back down for me. “Let’s find something to eat, and then I’ll start boarding up the place.”
“I can hel—”
“You need to relax,” he interrupts.
I blink. “Enzo, it’s not the first time I’ve experienced back pain. I’m not an invalid.”
He steps into my space and catches my chin between his fingers. I gasp, and an electric shiver zips down my spine.
“I’m more than aware that you’re a capable woman, Sawyer. But that doesn’t mean I won’t take care of you.”
My mouth falls open, but nothing escapes. There isn’t a coherent thought in my brain. I’m sure I look no different than a dopey dog. Look into their eyes and see nothing in there.
His stare drops to my parted lips and locks for a few seconds before he focuses on me again.
“Capito?”
“Yes,” I whisper, understanding what he’s asking for.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, a note of approval in his tone as he leans in and places a soft kiss on my forehead.
My heart might as well be an overheated baked potato. It's exploding in my chest while my whole body is flushed.
His approval shouldn’t make me feel proud, yet it does. With one last loaded look, he nods in the direction of the door and then prowls toward it, the expectation to follow clear.
My oppositional side tells me to keep my feet firmly planted. However, my pathetic need to get another one of those forehead kisses is what ultimately has me following after him.
Sylvester was pretty strict about food portions, which was something Enzo nor I minded considering we’re guests and what would normally last him a month was cut into a third. We were just grateful to have food at all.
That meant we were restricted from scouring the cabinets, and it was something we were happy to respect.
Except after rummaging through them, we find that Sylvester has been hoarding a lot more food than he let on. Which I can’t really blame him for. If I lived on this island alone and the chances of being forgotten were fairly high, I’d probably do the same.
So, with that in mind, Enzo and I still keep our dinner very light. A single potato and a seasoned chicken breast.
Better than the bajillion Ensure bottles in the cabinet.
We’re both confident we can find a working radio somewhere or that the freight ship will come by eventually, but we have to prepare for the possibility that we’ll be here for a long time to come.
For all we know, that ship comes by a lot less frequently than Sylvester said. It’s better to conserve.
“Lie down,” Enzo says, pointing toward the couch. Sighing, I do as he says, not having the energy to argue. This peace between us is exhilarating, and I have no interest in shattering it because he’s actually being nice. That would just be stupid.
He gets the little fireplace going while I settle on the couch. Once I’m comfortable, he hands me the shotgun, a grim look on his face.
Staring up at him with wide eyes, I grab the weapon from him hesitantly.
“Sylvester hasn’t restocked the wood in the kitchen, so I need to get it from out back. I shouldn’t be gone for more than a few minutes. Just keep this close to be safe.”
“Okay,” I mutter. “Where the hell did he get wood from anyway? This place is practically devoid of plant life.”
