She walked as far as she dared, her feet landing heavily with every step, as though walking through cement, gravity reminding her that her feet belonged on the ground. She found a good spot to pee and dropped her shorts, crouching awkwardly, her spinning head offering nothing to ease the nausea. Don’t puke, don’t puke, don’t puke, she silently pleaded, using a nearby tree to hold herself steady.
But she did vomit, the violent contractions splitting her head in two. She was dangerously close to passing out, and she knew it. The last thing she needed was Grant to find her, lying unconscious in her own body fluids. Wouldn’t that be the icing on top of a shit day? But it was happening, black spots floating in front of her eyes, the cold rain the only thing keeping her acutely aware of her surroundings. She was slipping, out of her own body, self-control sifting through her fingers like beach sand, unable to hold on to a single grain.
“No,” she cried out, “God, please, no...”
Suddenly she felt herself being lifted, raised to her feet and supported by strong hands, her body shielded from the cold and rain.
“I got you,” he whispered in her ear. “I got you, Joss.”
Chapter 17
She remembered very little from the night before, just short snippets captured in quick, curious flashes. Grant’s eyes gazing calmly into hers as he gave her water, a tender word here and there offering comfort and reassurance, a warm body cradling her against the suffering cold. It was as though her own vulnerability allowed him to truly let his guard down, to offer intimacy. His kindness confused her.
He seemed so distant, when she was sobbing earlier, like her emotions were off-putting, weak even. She hated losing control in front of him. She knew it wasn’t unusual for people to have strong reactions upon waking from unconsciousness; anger, rage, fear, and sometimes even tears, but he’d pulled away and distanced himself. What really she needed was his reassurance, affection, forgiveness. Why was it so hard for him to see that?
She felt like they were balancing on an emotional tightrope around each other, navigating every step, pushing forward at a snail’s pace. It was frustrating and exhausting trying to see beneath the veil he so carefully hid behind.
Yet at the same time he could be so nurturing and tender. Although she was not fully coherent, she did remember him carrying her back to the shelter, redressing her, washing the dirt off her face. He’d meticulously taken care of her through the night, waking her every few hours in case she had a concussion, whispering to her, kissing her...
Did he kiss her, or had she been dreaming? All she remembered was how delicious his lips felt on hers, warm, reassuring, persuasive. It had only been a moment but the feeling stirred something lost in her, something she thought was gone forever. It was as though his kiss had invited her home, through the deepest parts of her soul, back to herself.
It must have been a dream.
Joss opened her eyes, allowing them adjust to the light. She expected to find Grant beside her but he was gone. She slowly sat up, allowing the dizziness to ebb. She’d pushed herself too hard, that was for certain. It was one of her greatest faults. Her pride could sometimes be a liability. For the most part, she had learned to control it, but Grant pushed her buttons. Not that she was blaming him. No, she was totally accountable for her actions, her bad decisions, but for some reason he’d gotten the best of her and she needed to figure out why.
The cozy scent of a campfire wafted through the natural curtain, inviting her to investigate. She pulled on her boots and crawled through the opening, greeted by Grant’s smile. It was a welcoming sight.
“Morning,” she yawned, pulling up beside him. Still a little dizzy, she ran her fingers through her hair, certain she looked like death warmed over.
“Mornin,” he returned, cocking his head. “How you feeling?”
Joss pursed her lips, wishing she had better news. “To be honest, not great. Thanks for helping me out last night. I can be a bit stubborn.”
“You don’t say,” he mused, his eyes teasing her. “I found some mint growing nearby and I made tea. I thought it might settle your tummy.”
Impressed, Joss eyed the stainless steel water bottle steaming near the fire, the mint leaves steeping inside. “I’d love some. How did you find dry wood to burn?”
“I stored kindling and wood under some fronds yesterday, before the storm blew in. I thought we might want a fire once the rain stopped. It was cold as shit last night, we could have used a fire, but it didn’t stop pissing down until a few hours ago.”
He carefully lifted the tea off away from the heat, setting it on the ground next to him. “Right then, this needs a few minutes to cool.”
She nodded at him, wishing she could add some willow bark or cloves to help ease her pain. Every inch of her body was aching, like she’d run a marathon...or fallen out of a damn tree.
“Hungry?” he asked, passing her some mango. She shook her head, waving him off. “I think I’ll just stick to the tea for now. You go ahead,” she urged.
“Don’t mind if I do. I worked up quite an appetite yesterday, building the shelter.”
“You didn’t eat?” she asked, her brows raised in concern.
“Nah, honestly I think I had too much adrenalin coursing through me to even to think about food, but I’m hungry now,” he winked, sinking his teeth into the fleshy part of the mango.
“Sorry about that,” she blushed, still feeling the sting of her shame. She wished she could turn back the clock and make better choices.
“Don’t fret about it,” he said, gently bumping her shoulder with his own. “What’s done is done. Let’s just move past it and figure out how we’re going to get ourselves back to camp.” He threw the rind into the fire, wiping his hands on his slacks.
“Fine with me,” she agreed, offering him a weak smile. The guys were probably worried sick about them, but the way she was feeling she wasn’t sure she’d be able to hike the hour back, at least not for awhile. She was still pretty weak.
“We’ll just see how the morning goes, take things nice and slow, right?” he suggested warmly, rubbing her softly between her shoulder blades, oblivious to the mango on his face. Joss chuckled softly and raised her hand to his chin, using her thumb to wipe away the pulp. Grant grinned impishly at her.
“Hmmm, you gonna eat that?” he teased, wrapping his hand around hers. Before she could object, he pulled her thumb into his mouth, slowly sucking the juices off. She stared at him, wide eyed, surprised yet incredibly turned on by the seductive gesture.
“Delicious,” he growled, releasing her hand with a naughty wink. She was speechless. It was the last thing she’d expected from Grant, but admittedly she loved his playful side. She wished he would show it more often.
“Tea?” he asked, handing her the container, as though the sexy exchange never happened. Joss laughed and shook her head, accepting the minty brew. He tried to hide his smile from her, but failed miserably.
She couldn’t explain why, but it set her at ease, back to where they’d left things at the waterfall. She watched him stoke the fire, unaware that she was staring at him. She knew so little about him, he so rarely spoke about himself. She wondered what his story was, what made him tick. He’d started opening up the day before, but for some reason he’d changed the subject. She wanted to know more. She had a feeling they were more similar than different.
“How’s the tea?” he asked, turning towards her. She tore her eyes away, embarrassed he caught her staring. She could sense him grinning beside her.
“It’s good,” she offered, taking a quick sip, mindful not to burn her tongue. “Delicious actually. How did you sweeten it?”
“I used a little mango juice. I thought you might like it.”
“I do,” she smiled, pleased by his thoughtfulness. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” he agreed, looking up.
“Yesterday you mentioned that you’ve had some challenges, a difficult past. We never finished that conver
sation,” she began cautiously, certain the subject needed a gentle touch.
“Is that a question?” he teased, as though trying to deflect her with humor. She wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily.
“The question is coming,” she smirked, undeterred.
“Should I be scared?” His grin may have been light, playful even, but his eyes said otherwise. He seemed nervous.
“Not at all,” she assured, taking his hand. “Be serious, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Why do you think you’re cursed. What’s that all about?”
“Well, I think I’ve shown you why I think that, haven’t I? The plane crash, the banana tree...I seem to be a catalyst for bad things to happen,” he offered, his tone light, yet still woven with undeniable sadness.
“I fell out of the tree because I misjudged my abilities,” she shrugged, “just like you did that night of the storm. That doesn’t mean you’re a beacon for bad luck.”
“Maybe,” he grimaced, still not convinced.
“Why do I think there’s something more,” she pressed gently, her eyes encouraging him to be brave, to share his pain with her. She wanted him to know, more than anything, that he could trust her.
“I don’t know,” he sighed, visibly upset.
“You do.”
He paused for a moment, as though considering how much to divulge, a pained look on his handsome face. She waited for him to come to whatever conclusion he needed to, but hoped he would let her in, reveal his heart to her. If they were as alike as she imagined, it would be hard for him, but it would also mean that he was ready for a stronger friendship with her.
“I...um...it’s hard to talk about,” he began, struggling to get the words out.
She took his hand and held it, her smile encouraging him to try. “It’s okay. We’ll go slow.”
He looked down at their hands laced together in solidarity and nodded, as though submitting to her tenderness.
“I killed someone.”
Chapter 18
He’d expected her to be shocked, to drop his hand and turn away, but she didn’t. She squeezed his fingers and nodded for him to go on. He was terrified to speak of that day, to dredge up those painful memories he’d so tightly locked down. They’d haunted him for so many years and he didn’t want to summon those ghosts again. He wasn’t sure they wouldn’t finally kill him.
He opened his mouth to speak, to push her away, to change the subject, anything to save himself the torture of revealing the horrible truth, but what came out surprised him.
“It was my girlfriend,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. Joss didn’t even flinch, but caressed his hand instead, her eyes searching his, without an ounce of fear or judgement.
“We were kids. Eighteen,” he continued, his voice cracking with emotion. “It was summer, one of those hot nights that brings kids out in their cars, dragging down the main street, meeting at the deli, listening to music, anything to get out of the house and away from the parents. There were a bunch of us out that night and we were all feeling reckless and pretty damn good about ourselves. We weren’t old enough to party at the pub, but still thought we were entitled to a little fun. Most of us were getting ready to go on to the Uni, trade school or what have you, and it was our last summer to be loose, have some fun, you know?” he paused, gathering his thoughts, allowing the memories to unfold slowly. Joss nodded at him to continue.
“Fuck, none of us were ready to grow up. We wanted the privileges of adulthood without any of the responsibility. One of my mates had gotten his hands on some coldies and we all met at the beach to party...”
“Coldies?”
“Beers, sorry,” he chuckled, forgetting that most yanks weren’t familiar with Aussie slang. “Anyway, we stayed out for awhile, goofing around, razzing each other, acting like hooligans, at least until the girlfriends showed up. Evie, my gal, was with them. I was surprised to see her because she was supposed to be working that night. She was let out early for one reason or another. I was already a bit plastered and tried to hide it. She wasn’t a fan of boozing and I didn’t want to fight.” Grant was surprised at how easy his memories came flooding back, as though it had happened only days earlier. He gestured her for the tea, and took a sip, before handing her back the bottle.
“Go on,” she urged gently, “please.”
“Evie and I were close. I loved her,” he choked, clearing his throat. “We talked about getting married. I know it sounds crazy, we were both so young, but she was my soulmate. I knew it in my core. She just had a way of making everything okay in my world and she kept me on the straight and narrow. She made me want to work harder at being the kind of man she deserved.”
“It doesn’t sound all that crazy,” Joss whispered, as though longing for that kind of love. “It sounds beautiful.”
Grant smiled at her, somehow soothed by her honesty.
“God, she was a stunner. Blonde, blue eyes, gorgeous smile. One look from her could puddle me.”
Joss smirked at him like she couldn’t believe he was ever capable of being so soft. He didn’t blame her. He’d pretty much eradicated that side of himself. He’d sealed himself pretty tight, making it impossible for anyone to care about him again, and that had suited him just fine. He didn’t deserve love.
“I know, hard to imagine I have a tender side, right?” he shrugged, following the gesture with a grin.
“Not really,” she replied, grinning back at him, “I’ve seen glimpses of it here and there.”
“Then you must have x-ray vision, girly,” he chuffed, brushing off the compliment. She shook her head warmly, graciously allowing him to dismiss it.
“So Evie showed up...”
“Yeah,” he nodded, “she did. We stayed at the beach a little longer, just enjoying our mates, and each other. I had stopped drinking but I was definitely still buzzing. Before long her friends were getting ready to leave. She wanted to go with them but I didn’t want her to. I was hoping we could go to the point and make out, and told her so. She wasn’t sure what to do. I think she was worried that I was drunk. She even asked me if I was, but I denied it. I told her I’d only had one beer. I’m not sure if she bought it or not, but she agreed to stay with me. Fuck, Joss. I should have let her go with them. I shouldn’t have stopped her.”
“Why, Grant?”
“I fucking killed her,” he sobbed, breaking down. He felt the tears coming and tried to stop them, placing his hands over his eyes. He felt Joss place a hand on his back but shirked away, certain the empathy would make it even harder to hold the emotion back. This time, she refused to be dismissed, pulling him in for an embrace. Her tenderness was almost torture to him, exposing his regrets, making him look his pain head on, to challenge the infinite belief that he was undeserving of it. He wasn’t sure he was ready for that.
“Don’t,” he pulled away, “don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t deserve it.”
“You do, Grant,” she insisted, reaching for his hand. He wiped away the few traitorous tears from his eyes, before allowing her to take it. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t refuse her. Maybe he didn’t want to. He didn’t know anymore.
“Go on, what happened next?” she asked, her warm tone reassuring and gentle.
“I drove us to the point,” he sniffed, his voice tight with regret, “but we never made it. A wild dog ran in front of my car and I swerved to miss it. I just lost control and the car hit a guard rail and flipped. I’m guessing we rolled two or three times before it came to a stop, upside down.”
“Jesus.”
“I was fine, a bit banged up, but Evie wasn’t wearing her strap. My God, there was blood everywhere. I could tell just by looking at her that her neck was broken. Her head was twisted at an obscene angle. I tried to wake her. I held her, screaming her name for what seemed like hours, until the police arrived. They had to pry her away from me, and even then I fought them. I didn’t want to let her go,” he sobbed.
She closed her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Grant. God, that must have been so devastating for you. You were just a kid,” she whispered, as though his story was too much to bear.
“She was dead and it was my fault. I fucking did it.”
“It was an accident,” Joss insisted, her eyes regarding him carefully. “A tragic accident, Grant. You were young, an inexperienced driver...”
“I was piss drunk!” he blurted. He swallowed hard, choking back the painful memories. He knew drudging up the past would rattle him, but this was almost more than he could take. The shame was almost paralyzing, his grief like a dagger, cruelly plunging into his heart. He couldn’t bear Joss looking at him, her eyes glassy with tears. He couldn’t breathe and tried to stand up.
“I need to go for a walk.”
“Wait, Grant. Please don’t,” she pleaded, stopping him, her hand tightly gripping his bicep. He looked down at her, his eyes begging her to release him before he lost it completely. “Don’t run away. It’s just us, you and me. I’m here for you...”
“I can’t, Joss. It hurts...”
“I know it does,” she sobbed, barely holding back her tears. “I know how painful it can be, holding on to regret, blaming ourselves, feeling so much shame it feels like it might rip us in two. I know what it’s like to feel undeserving. I’ve carried the burden of that for years.”
“You?” he whispered. She nodded, slowly, her eyes taking the shape of sadness. He inhaled deeply, shifting his own grief aside to make room for hers. She held her hand out to him, inviting him to sit back down. He did.
She took a moment, assembling her thoughts. Unsure what to do or say next, he waited for her to speak.
“Grant, I know you blame yourself for Evie’s death, but it was a mistake. It’s been what, fifteen years since the accident?”
“Twenty.”
“You’ve served your sentence, don’t you understand that? Your remorse, this contempt you’ve carried, has imprisoned you far too long. Maybe it’s time to set yourself free, to unburden yourself. Maybe it’s time we both did.”
Stranded Page 15
