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“Not without risking your life.”
“Is there any other way of helping me?”
“I’ll see what I can do,” the doctor says, her voice tinged with a mixture of determination and compassion. She leans in closer, lowering her voice as if to share a secret. “I have some leave coming up in just a couple of days. During that time, I’ll make the journey to the city, speak to a colleague I trust. We’ll explore every avenue, Kayla, I promise. I want to help you, and I will. But you have to be patient.”
Her words hang in the air, a lifeline of hope amid the suffocating darkness of my circumstances. I nod, tears welling up in my eyes, grateful for her commitment to my cause. “Thank you,” I manage to choke out, my voice wavering with emotion.
Leaving the medical wing, I make my way back to my room, each step heavier than the last. All thoughts of finding Ghost and Honey are pushed from my mind. The weight of the world presses down on my shoulders, the gravity of my situation sinking in deeper with every passing moment.
My room, once a sanctuary of sorts, now feels like a prison cell, closing in on me, bearing witness to my turmoil.
I collapse onto the bed, the soft mattress providing little comfort. My mind races with a torrent of thoughts and emotions, each vying for my attention. The shock of the pregnancy test result, the uncertainty of the future, and the daunting journey that lies ahead leave me reeling. Yet, beneath it all, a glimmer of hope persists, a tiny flame that refuses to be extinguished. With that fragile hope, I clutch at the possibility of escape, of freedom from this asylum and this forsaken island, willing to endure whatever it takes to make it a reality.
MIXING UP THEIR BODY PARTS LIKE A PICK ‘N’ MIX
‘GASOLINE’ – HALSEY
KAYLA
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, and even though I’m avoiding everyone, again, I still get a little thrill that one of them is reaching out to me.
Daddy Hatchet
What’s wrong, Flame?
I snortwhen I see his message with his nickname for me. But then again, I did change his name in my phone from Forest to Daddy Hatchet so I guess I’m just as bad. I wonder if it’ll stick – his name for me.
It makes me think about the other guys, and how each of them have claimed me as their own with a nickname of sorts. Honey calls me darling, dropping the ‘g’ in that sexy drawl of his that always gives me fanny flutters.
Snow calls me slut. He wields it as an insult, but I felt that dynamic shifting from the moment he took those bullets for me, to the other day on the roof. I don’t want him to call me anything else, it wouldn’t feel right between us if he did.
Bones calls me princess. Like with Snow, the tone has shifted. He no longer brandishes the word like a weapon, but whispers it to me reverently. I wonder if he’ll change and start to call me something else when he discovers I’m pregnant.
Nightshade calls me Red, or baby when he’s feeling particularly affectionate, and it feels so sinfully perfect coming from his lips.
And Ghost. I’m his little pet. I think. Maybe I’m Donnelly’s little pet. Because Ghost still holds me at arm’s length and refuses to let me in.
I turn back to my phone and consider Daddy Hatchet’s message. Flame? I grimace. I’m not sure I like it. Growing up I was always picked on because of my hair colour, and just because I choose to dye it an even more vibrant shade of red now, doesn’t mean I like the nameflame.
Flame? That’s a new one. Because of the hair?
It takesa minute for his message to come through. I stare at the screen, waiting, and just as I’m about to give up and put the device back on my nightstand, it buzzes in my hand.
Daddy Hatchet
No, because we’re all drawn to you like moths…
His message sendswarmth spreading through my chest again. Okay. Maybe his nickname for me isn’t that bad after all. Like moths to a flame. But he sayswearealldrawn to you. Does that mean what I think – what I hope – it does?
All?
Daddy Hatchet
Yes, all.
I’ve been flirting with you since the day I arrived, and you’ve barely shown any interest.
Daddy Hatchet
