by Henry, Jane
Is there safety here?
That’s when my gaze falls on the unthinkable. It takes me a minute to make sense of what I’m seeing.
Plane wreckage isn’t covered in blood-soaked fabric.
A body ripped asunder in the crash is strewn on the sandy beach in front of me, arms and limbs torn brutally apart as if ripped by cruel hands. I roll to my side and retch onto the ground, emptying the contents of my stomach until nothing but bile remains. I swipe the back of my hand across my mouth and fall to my back, wrecked. I can’t look again. I recognized white, though, which means that body was a pilot’s, and not Carlos or Adrian. Carlos was wearing regulation navy and Adrian in the clothes we found him in.
Something else caught my attention, though. I need to see again, so I open my eyes and look to the sandy beach, pretending the body parts washed on shore are part of the beach. I can’t look again.
Out in front of me, stretching all the way to the waves crashing on the shore, lies a path where my body was dragged. I didn’t land here, where I am now. Someone found me and hauled me out of the water while I was still unconscious, so I wouldn’t drown. That would explain my soaking wet clothes and the fact that I’m here, on dry land, and breathing.
Someone else survived, then, or there are natives in hiding. Where did they go? Did they have to leave me here so they could rescue the others?
I push myself up to sitting again, ignoring the pain that flares in my leg, and scan the coast with gritted teeth. The task ahead of me makes nausea swirl in my recently emptied stomach.
I need to identify bodies. I need to know who I’m here with. I didn’t become who I am by nursing my wounds and hiding in fear.
I push myself to my feet, but the pain in my leg is unbearable. I look down. The piece of metal sticking out is smaller than I thought at first, but it has to come out. When I pull it out, I’ll bleed, which should cleanse the wound, but if I make a tourniquet, or even a bandage tight enough, I could staunch the flow of blood. I quickly undo the buttons on my top, take it off, and wrap it around my leg to form a loose loop above the wound. I’ll leave it there to grab when the time comes. My hands shaking so hard I almost lose my balance, I grab the piece of metal and pull. My screams echo in my ears, the pain so intense my vision blurs. I throw the blood-soaked metal away, then quickly wrap my leg in the shirt. I watch as the bleeding slows. Temporarily I’m okay, but I won’t be able to bear much weight on it. I’ll need to rest it to heal.
In the dim light of the fading sun, I scan the coast.
Then my eyes fall on navy.
Carlos.
I whimper and drag my hand across my eyes, wanting to push this vision away. How do soldiers at battle deal with sudden, violent loss and devastation?
Get up, I tell myself. See if you can help him.
His legs lie at odd angles, broken beyond repair, white bone shining clear through one stretch of torn fabric. I kneel beside him, lifting his limp body in my arms. His eyes are open, staring vacantly to a place beyond. I know he’s dead, but I need to prove it to myself. Gently, I place his body back on the sand where it falls with a soft thump, then pick up his arm and place my fingers where his pulse ought to be, where lifeblood should be flowing through his veins. No pulse. I turn away, the confirmation my partner’s gone making sudden tears spring to my eyes.
But I don’t cry. And I won’t now.
I close my eyes tightly and give myself a moment to deal with the pain of loss, before I stand and look across the sandy beach once more. I don’t have time to spare.
The plane lies in a heap of twisted metal on the shore, half in the water. I can see how one wing is completely blown away, and reason the wingtip must’ve hit a wave or rock, causing us to impact the water harder than we were supposed to. That wasn’t the landing our pilots had planned. Ignoring the waves of pain that make me want to vomit, I stumble on unsteady feet toward the plane. And then I see it. One final body slumped against the window in the cockpit filled with water. Dead on impact? Drowned, pinned in the cockpit? I’ll never know.
I fall to my knees as the memory of the pilot’s last words come back to me.
We have five souls on board.
Including myself, the two dead bodies of the pilot and Carlos, I now have four.
I still haven’t found our prisoner.
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ABOUT JANE HENRY
USA Today bestselling author Jane Henry pens stern but loving alpha heroes, feisty heroines, and emotion-driven happily-ever-afters. She writes what she loves to read: kink with a tender touch. Jane is a hopeless romantic who lives on the East Coast with a houseful of children and her very own Prince Charming.
What to read next? Here are some other titles by Jane you may enjoy. And don’t forget to sign-up for my newsletter for a free book!
Contemporary fiction
Dark romance
Island Captive: A Dark Romance
Undercover Doms standalones
Criminal by Jane Henry and Loki Renard
Hard Time by Jane Henry and Loki Renard
Wicked Doms
The Bratva’s Baby
Western
Wanted: A Vigilante Romance
NYC Doms standalones
Deliverance
Safeguard
Conviction
Salvation
Schooled
Opposition
Hustler
The Billionaire Daddies
Beauty’s Daddy: A Beauty and the Beast Adult Fairy Tale
Mafia Daddy: A Cinderella Adult Fairy Tale
Dungeon Daddy: A Rapunzel Adult Fairy Tale
The Billionaire Daddies boxset
The Boston Doms
My Dom (Boston Doms Book 1)
His Submissive (Boston Doms Book 2)
Her Protector (Boston Doms Book 3)
His Babygirl (Boston Doms Book 4)
His Lady (Boston Doms Book 5)
Her Hero (Boston Doms Book 6)
My Redemption (Boston Doms Book 7)
And more! Check out my Amazon author page.
You can find Jane here!
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