Seven Exes Are Eight Too Many

by Heather Wardell

  Aaron and Michael nodded. I did too, but mostly because I'd lost interest. We'd won the first two contests and I didn't see any reason we couldn't keep winning. That million dollars was as good as ours.

  Mine.

  Chapter Five

  When I woke up the next morning, Sam and Michael were already in the water. I used the latrine, changing into my bikini there, and joined them. I scrubbed sand over my skin and rinsed it off, then submerged to do what I could for my hair. When I came up, Michael said, "Do you want fish for breakfast, MC?"

  I'd rather eat sand. But he'd made the effort to communicate with me, so I smiled and said, "Sure, if you don't mind."

  He found the fishing spear and his t-shirt bag and set to work. Sam left the water to get more firewood and I paddled around watching Michael. After he'd caught a few, I said, "I think I see what you're doing. Can I try it?"

  My first attempts missed the fish by a nautical mile, but I got closer, and then succeeded. I held up the spear, laughing with triumph. "Look at it! I did it, I can't believe it."

  He laughed with me, but then our eyes met and I saw the Michael I'd loved, warm and happy and caring, instead of the withdrawn one he'd been so far on the island. Our delight disappeared, leaving only intensity between us.

  We both looked away at once.

  "I'll... I'll clean it for you, if you want," he said, again tentative and distant.

  "Thank you." I didn't know what else to say. He took the spear without looking at me and left without a word.

  I swam a while longer, not trusting myself alone with him on the beach. Why did my feelings for the guys keep waking up? I needed them comatose if I was going to win the money and help Colin. But I'd felt lust for Aaron, and something I couldn't begin to describe with Michael, and there'd even been some flickers of emotion at lunch with Kent. I was a danger to myself, and to my hopes of winning the money. I had to stay focused.

  *****

  "This is our first elimination contest," Peter said. "Tonight, one of you will be gone."

  I pressed my hands to my sides to control their shaking. Where was the confidence of yesterday, the assuredness that we could win it all? I couldn't find even a shred of it now. Sunset over a lake... the image refused to come to my mind.

  Kent stuck out his hand in one sharp movement, almost a jerk. "Good luck."

  I said, "Thanks, you too," and we shook hands. It probably appeared cool and business-like, but his skin against mine for the first time in three years left me feeling like I'd done a hard kickboxing class, exhilarated and a little weak-kneed. He released my hand, and I returned my attention to Peter wondering how a simple handshake could stir me so much.

  Peter opened an ornate box and held up a golden crown that would have fit right in at a little girl's birthday party. "The Court that holds this crown is safe." Sunlight danced on it, showing the cheap plastic gems and gold paint in harsh detail. I'd wear that crown with joy and pride, though, despite its ugliness. If we won.

  Peter explained that Kent and I would use maps to direct two of our exes to dig up buried bags and then solve a jigsaw puzzle. "Is that clear?"

  Kent and I both nodded, and I tried to keep my expression neutral. Clear, but a huge challenge.

  "Oh, one more thing." Peter's smile sent a shudder through me. "Did I mention the Courtiers and Ladies will be blindfolded?"

  He knew he hadn't. I could get lost in a paper bag open at both ends, and blindfolded my exes wouldn't be able to help each other at all. This was a disaster.

  "You both need to select two Court members to dig," Peter said. I turned to look for the guys from the first contest. We'd worked well together, after all. "However, you may not reuse a Court member until everyone has been in a contest once."

  Any more rules, Peter? Do I have to do it standing on my head? I managed to bite this back. He might have said yes.

  Who would have the best sense of direction and understand my scrambled instructions?

  "Princess, in ten seconds I pick for you."

  I couldn't see that working in my favor. "Okay, Aaron and Jim." Aaron's strength couldn't hurt and Jim was standing the closest to me. Michael's face fell and Dean's turned furious, but I didn't have time to worry about their reactions.

  Peter gave us the maps. I looked mine over and my heart, which had already sunk about as low as I'd thought it could go, dropped a few inches into the ground. I couldn't read maps at the best of times and this was emphatically not that.

  "Three, two, one, go!"

  "Aaron, go to your left. No, your other left! Jim, go forward. Not that far. Aaron, stop!"

  I did get each blindfolded man to a bag, but it involved a lot of wrong turns, and by the time they'd dug them up and were approaching the next bags--

  "The Prince's Court wins it."

  "It's not fair, she screwed it up!"

  Without acknowledging Phillip's comment, or the muttered agreement of my other exes, Peter handed Kent the crown. He held it dangling from his hand until Summer settled it onto his head. He looked ridiculous. I wished I were wearing it.

  "Prince's Court, you may return to your island. Congratulations."

  Peter didn't speak again until Kent and his women were gone. "You win or lose together, Courtiers. And this time, you lost. Does anyone know what happens now?"

  "We vote someone off," Aaron muttered.

  Peter flashed the smile I was coming to dread. "Someone's off, yes. But there's no vote."

  He stood silent, waiting for us to get it.

  No. It couldn't be.

  "She gets to pick? After how she cost us the contest?" Phillip glared at me then turned back to Peter. "There's no way we can get rid of her instead?"

  "Phillip!"

  Peter ignored me. "No. The Princess alone chooses who will be exiled. Tonight."

  *****

  The sand crunched behind me as someone approached, but I didn't want company. Maybe he'd catch the hint and leave if I didn't respond.

  No such luck: Sam sat down beside me. I reluctantly turned to him and we exchanged sad smiles. I still wanted to be alone, but I needed comfort too, so I leaned against him. He wrapped an arm around me and we sat watching the waves. I could hear the guys at the fire but couldn't make out their words. The tone, though, came through all too well.

  "They hate me."

  He began rubbing my back. "Not all of them."

  "Yeah, right."

  "We just don't want to go home." He paused. "Well, most of them don't, anyhow."

  Confused, I said, "Are you saying you want to go?"

  His hand froze on my back. "God, no." He shifted to face me. "Am I going?"

  "No way." Tension drained from his face, and I added, "You're stuck here. I need you."

  He grinned, and a voice behind us said, "Isn't that precious?"

  I turned to see Phillip staring down at me. "Nice, Sam," he said, without looking away from me. "Making yourself indispensable. Good strategy."

  Sam stood and faced him. "Nobody's indispen--"

  "I heard her. 'I need you.'" His mockery made me sound pathetic, and anger swept me. I scrambled to my feet as he said, "But watch yourself. You can't trust her."

  "He can too. What are you talking about?"

  "You should keep the strongest and hardest working guys and get rid of the weak ones, but you won't do it like that. You're way too emotional. Typical female."

  Before I could respond, Sam narrowed the distance between himself and Phillip to only a few inches. "Are you saying I'm weak?"

  Phillip took a step back. "Actually, no, you work pretty hard. Plus, you're keeping her distracted, which is probably the worst job we've got."

  "If you're so smart, who should go?" Why had I asked? I didn't want his opinion.

  "Isn't it obvious? He doesn't do anything around here. You haven't picked him for a contest, so you must see it too." He shook his head in mock sympathy. "You must have been desperate when you dated him. Couldn't you have bought a vibra
tor or--"

  Sam pushed Phillip, hard, and he stumbled backward and didn't finish the sentence. "Don't talk like that."

  "Come on, we've all slept with her. What does it matter?"

  To so casually lob that grenade into the conversation! My stomach lurched and my fingers grew tingly as I stared at him, unable to speak.

  "Right? We're all members of that oh-so-exclusive club? Kent too, I assume?"

  "Dude, seriously," Jim said. I hadn't noticed, but the rest of my exes now stood behind us. With the camera men. Marvelous. "What are you trying to do, bringing that up?"

  "She obviously hasn't been choosy in the past, so why should she get to choose now?"

  I heard a few guys take a breath to respond to this but before anyone could he added, "And she doesn't know what she's doing, and she's going to cost all of us the money."

  His eyes met mine, and I realized he knew how horrible he was being, knew and didn't care. I didn't understand. He was dooming himself, and he had to know it. There was something else going on. Figuring it out as I went, I said slowly, "You don't think I'll exile you, do you?"

  "Nope. You know I did well in the first contest, saved your butt as a matter of fact, and I work hard. Exiling me would prove you're over-emotional. It'd be stupid."

  And then I saw it all. He'd screwed up by being rude to me at the lunch, and by criticizing me in front of everyone after the digging contest, and he knew it. He hadn't known how much power I'd have, and this was his last-ditch attempt to save himself.

  Had he learned the tactic in law school? It was clever. I couldn't exile him now, not without making myself look irrational. I'd have to exile--

  "But hey, maybe I'm wrong, MC. Maybe you haven't slept with all of us." He scanned my exes. "But I think you have. How was it, guys? Not bad, huh? Does she still do that thing with an ice cube and her mouth on your--"

  Fully half my exes started forward as we all realized where he was heading at the same moment, but I reached him first. "You've gone too far," I said, and slapped him as hard as I could across the face, fury and embarrassment giving me extra strength. "I don't care if you're stronger than everyone else put together, you're out of here tonight!"

  Then I fled.

  *****

  I plowed head-long into the jungle, ducking to avoid branches and blinking against the flashes of sun through the trees, until I was too tired to run. A camera man had followed me, and stood at a discreet distance as I leaned against a tree, shaking. His presence didn't matter; they'd already filmed the worst part.

  Phillip's nonchalant 'how was it' echoed in my mind. How dare he?

  My rage rose even higher, neck-and-neck with my humiliation, and I had to release them both before I exploded. I started kickboxing, taking swings at the air and imagining I was kicking Phillip's face. I hated him. Knowing the cameras would catch every detail of my shock and embarrassment, why had he exposed my past like that?

  Because he was right. I'd slept with all of them.

  Twelve lovers over sixteen years hadn't seemed too high before, lower than most of my friends. But with the majority here with me, it felt different, borderline revolting. And yes, I still did the ice cube thing, although I'd probably never do it again. Why did he have to talk about it?

  And why had nobody stopped him?

  I kicked and punched harder, wishing I could hit something but knowing the trees were tougher than I was. The others had let him talk about sleeping with me like it meant nothing. Did they feel the same way? Had I been a casual affair for all seven?

  I took a deep shuddering breath and forced myself to stand still, panting. I was getting worked up and losing my objectivity. Sam's concern, the way Michael was looking at me, even Dean's freak out in the limo. I'd mattered.

  And they hadn't let him talk. Sam had pushed him, Jim had protested, and some had tried to stop him at the end. Sam again, and I thought maybe Aaron, and one or two others besides. It was a blur. Still, did at least some of them agree with him? Were they even now discussing my bedroom skills?

  The trees had nearly ripped out my hair elastic during my flight, so I took down my ponytail and ran my fingers through my hair until it was smoother. My own touch calmed me and I forced myself to think as I put my hair back up.

  I couldn't live with Phillip any more. Whether that made me over-emotional was irrelevant. Every time I saw him, I'd hear his words, remember his betrayal. I hadn't been able to forget what Kent had done, or rather hadn't done, and Phillip's actions were a million times worse. So I would exile him and never look back.

  But I couldn't help wondering who he'd thought I should exile. I hadn't used the guy in the contests. Michael or Dean, then. Which one? I hadn't seen any difference in their work ethic.

  Why did I even care? I straightened my clothes then straightened my back. I'd made my decision, and I would go back to camp and simply refuse to discuss it.

  Going back, though, was easier said than done. I hadn't exactly been noting landmarks as I threw myself through the jungle, and I had no idea where to go. The camera guy probably knew, but I doubted he'd tell me if I asked. Which I wouldn't. I didn't want to admit I was lost.

  I turned in a circle, looking for my path, but could only follow it a few feet before the foliage didn't seem to have been disturbed. How far had I moved during my kickboxing?

  Pushing down my panic, I tried to think. Not a lot of sunlight made it through the trees, but had it been in my eyes as I ran? I thought so. I revolved slowly until the light blinded me, then turned my back on it and began to walk, watching for signs of my passage.

  For a minute, nothing looked familiar, then I spotted a large flat rock shaped like a heart. I knew it; I'd stomped on it extra hard as I'd run over it. Relief flooded me. I'd found my way.

  A few more steps and I heard Michael calling my name.

  "Over here!"

  "Yell again!"

  I did, until he and Sam appeared beside me.

  "We thought we'd lost you." Sam's light tone was belied by the relief on his face.

  "Why? I'm fine. Lead on." I didn't want to admit I still wasn't positive how to find camp.

  They exchanged glances. "Can we talk first?" Michael said.

  I shrugged. "If you want."

  Michael turned to Sam. "Go for it."

  Sam looked startled, but said, "Well, you should know everyone told Phillip off."

  "He was trying to force you not to exile him," Michael said.

  "I figured that out partway through. And it nearly worked. It would have worked." I shook my head. "If he hadn't said that last bit. I can't let him get away with that. So he's gone."

  "He didn't get away with it," Michael said. "We told him it was wrong."

  "And the handprint you left on his face will be a good reminder," Sam added.

  I grinned, happy for the first time since the contest began. Phillip, so proud of his looks, with my slap branded on his skin.

  "But you can't exile him."

  My grin faded. "Watch me."

  Sam shot Michael an annoyed look and turned to me. "You can exile anyone and we know it. The thing is, Phillip's a jerk, but he's strong. And he works hard. Dean doesn't."

  "Oh, was it Dean he wanted me to exile?" I asked, feigning surprise. "I thought he meant Michael." A cheap shot, but he deserved it after saying I couldn't exile Phillip.

  Michael started to respond, but Sam stepped in. "Dean isn't pulling his weight."

  I frowned. "I see him going out to the jungle like the rest of you."

  "But do you see him bring anything back?"

  I tried to remember. "I'm usually cooking rice when you guys are working."

  "He basically goes out, stands around, and comes back," Michael said. "I sat beside him at that lunch and he hardly said a word to the woman across the table. He's physically here--"

  "Sort of," Sam put in.

  "But mentally he's not involved, and we need everyone's best effort."

  I squeezed my eyes
shut, hating this. Opening them, I turned to Sam. "So you expect me to deal with Phillip and exile Dean."

  "We do want you to exile Dean. We all think he deserves to go. But you don't need to deal with Phillip. He knows none of us are on his side, and--"

  "None of you? What about Greg? Aaron?"

  Michael said, "Actually, Greg was first to call him an ass, and Aaron wasn't far behind. He went way too far bringing up..." He winced. "Well, you know. Anyhow, he promised he won't do it again."

  "And you all believe him?"

  "He knows he'll be exiled next time, that nobody'll stop you."

  Sam shut his eyes briefly as if in pain. "Nobody can stop you now, MC. What Michael's trying to say is that exiling Dean is best for the group. He deserves to be gone."

  "And I should exile the one who most deserves it."

  He nodded. So did Michael.

  "All right," I said. "That's what I'll do." I'd decide who was most deserving and exile him.

  Sam smiled, looking relieved. "Good stuff. Ready to head back?"

  "Right behind you," I said.

  He turned away and I started after him. Michael caught up to me and said quietly, "I'm sorry. I wish I'd stopped him earlier, but I didn't believe he'd go there, say all that."

  "Me either," I said, touched by his concern.

  "MC, I have to know."

  The intensity of his voice chilled me even with the heat of the day. "Know what?"

  He moved closer. "Why you broke up with me. What I did wrong."

  I heard the camera man pick up his pace behind us. "You didn't do anything wrong," I said. "Really."

  Michael caught my arm. "Are you sure?"

  I stopped and he faced me, his eyes hopeful but disbelieving. "Positive. It was all me."

  The disbelief began to fade. "But--"

  "MC, what's wrong?"

  Sam stood staring at me, at us.

  "Nothing." I started forward again. "Everything's fine."

  But it wasn't. Michael would ask again, I was sure of it, and I didn't know what I'd say.

  It had been all me. Too soon after Kent, and I hadn't been able to recognize what I'd had in Michael, how great our relationship had been.

  How could I say that to a married man?