by Kim Linwood
Pity, not anger is written all over his chiseled face. “Whoever wrote this did seem to intend something like that,” he says carefully. “But Liz, trust me, I was very thorough when I bought the island from my father. You might get some local sympathy, but nothing about this”—he waves the map gently—“is legally binding anymore.”
“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” I snap, not really meaning it even as the words come out.
Hunter stands up and strides towards me. He pulls me into his chest and wraps his strong arms around my shoulders. I squeeze my eyes shut, hating that I’m too weak to pull away from what might be the last time he holds me like this.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry that our parents are assholes. I’m sorry we didn’t run into each other somewhere and fell in love like normal people.” He presses his lips against the top of my hair and my heart breaks. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t enough. That you want this more than you ever wanted me.”
I whimper as he pulls away, leaving me to my misery. I don’t open my eyes until the door clicks shut behind him. He’s gone.
The world gets blurry as tears well up. Curling up on my grandmother’s sofa, with the sounds of paradise floating in through the window, I cry.
None of it matters anymore.
41
Liz
It’s time to grow up.
I’m done blubbering into a dusty old pillow. Feeling sorry for myself won’t make anything better, or change the mess I’ve gotten myself into.
A cool towel over my eyes draws out a bit of the crying redness. Applying a little concealer, I do my best to hide how tired and splotchy I look. It won’t fool anyone, but it makes me feel a little better at least.
It’s anyone’s guess how much time I have left. Hunter’s dad might decide to squeeze as much dramatic footage out of my leaving as possible, or I might get a knock on my door and a quick trip off the island. I have to act fast. Once I’m gone, who knows if I’ll have a way to contact the outside world? All the losers have been stuffed into a resort somewhere so they can’t leak anything about the show, so I’m guessing my odds wouldn’t be good.
Just then the exact person I need passes by my room. “Danny, I need your help.” I catch Hunter’s butler—assistant, friend… whatever—and drag him inside.
He frowns, confused. “Miss?”
“Would it be possible to use the phone again? Or maybe, for the door to the room with the phone to happen to be unlocked?” I beam my best smile. “Please?”
“Sarah… the circumstances last time were very unusual. I can’t just let you—”
“It’s a family emergency.”
Danny’s eyes dart quickly at my door, obviously torn. “Emergency?”
“I swear, it has nothing to do with the show. You can stay the whole time if you want, and even check the number ahead of time.”
“You should really talk to Mr. Campbell. Senior, that is. I don’t have the authori—”
“That’s so not going to happen.” Time to put my cards on the table. “Look, you know who I am, right?”
His freckled complexion turns a cute shade of pink. “Well, yes.”
“Okay, then you know our history. It’s about my mother. If I asked Hunter’s dad a favor about my mom, he’d laugh in my face.” Or offer to put her out of her misery. I really don’t feel like finding out. The last day or so has been rough enough as it is.
“I don’t know…”
I bat my lashes at him, hoping they’re not too offset by the bloodshot eyes underneath.
“Oh, bloody hell. Alright. Come with me.” He slips out of the room like a ninja, with me on his heels. Instead of heading to the room with the phone, he leads me in the opposite direction, pulling me quickly into the room he’s sharing with Hunter. Closing the door quietly behind him, he grabs a phone off a dresser. “Here, use mine, but be quick about it.”
I take it automatically, though I’m distracted by the room. It takes my breath away. Hunter’s room. The master bedroom, now a full-fledged suite. Unlike most of the other rooms, it’s been completely remodeled. One whole wall is glass, opening out onto a balcony. Old wood details were kept, but it’s clean and white. Like the kitchen, it’s modern in a way I want to hate but can’t help love.
And Hunter is everywhere.
Danny clears his throat.
“Right, yeah. Of course.” I tear my eyes away from Hunter’s king sized bed and his things, casually strewn around the room. “It won’t take long.”
I dial Mom’s doctor, his secretary sending me through almost immediately for a change.
“Dr. Benson speaking.”
“Dr. Benson, this is Elizabeth Bissette. I got your message about my mother.”
“Ah, Ms. Bissette, I’m glad you called.”
The next ten minutes are the hardest conversation I’ve had with him since moving Mom into full time residence. She needs more than I can give her, but the money won’t last much longer at the rate it’s going out and that doesn’t look like it’s going to change anytime soon.
I arrange for her to be put on the waiting list for an outpatient program he’d once suggested to me. It feels like admitting we’re all just buying time until her liver gives out and she finally drinks herself to death, but I’ll be damned before I just give up.
When I hang up, my stomach is in knots, but there’s something nice about actually doing something. “Thank you.” I hand Danny his phone back. “I really appreciate you helping me.”
He looks at me, then throws his hands out, offering a hug. I hesitate a moment, but there’s nothing but compassion in his freckled face. I let him pull me in, appreciating his gentle arms around me, at least for these few moments.
“Does Hunter know?” His voice is quiet, a bit sad.
“About Mom? Not the specifics, no. And don’t tell him!” Oh, God. All I need is even more pity. “It’s not his problem.” Danny doesn’t look convinced. “Seriously, it’s my responsibility. I’ll handle it.”
The skeptical look on his face makes it obvious he doesn’t agree, but he lets it drop. He takes a step back and crosses his arms over his chest. “Is that it then? Was there anything else?”
“Just one more thing.” I swallow before continuing. “I know you and Hunter are close, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to talk to me right now, so maybe you can pass it on.”
I take a deep breath and tell him everything I learned in my talk with Amanda. All the suspicious things that have happened since the show started, about how Blaze made a deal with her to split the prize money at the end. I try not to throw Amanda under the bus. She might have screwed up, but that doesn’t make her a bad person. At least I don’t think so.
Maybe I’m just hoping that if it’s true for her, it’s true for me too.
Telling Hunter would be better, but that’s not going to happen. Still, I’ve messed up enough already. I don’t want yet another secret hanging over us if I leave.
No, when I leave.
42
Hunter
This had better fucking work.
It’s really hot on the terrace. The air’s damp and the scent of the flowers planted along the balustrade is so thick it’s cloying. I’m only wearing shorts, even just the thought of putting on a light shirt sounding way too fucking hot.
On the bright side, the girls have followed my example. Well, not topless, unfortunately—we might be on cable, but this isn’t HBO—but in bikini tops and wraparound skirts. They look great. Liz more than anyone, but maybe I’m biased.
Hell, even Dad has dressed down to a light-colored pair of slacks and a white short-sleeved collared shirt. That’s about as casual as he likes to get.
Standing next to me, his Hawaiian shirt loud as ever, Blaze frowns. He’s pissed about being left out of the loop, but with Dad giving the orders, he doesn’t have any choice but to follow our lead. The expression on his face when we called an impromptu challenge was fucking hilarious, and while he’s doing
his best to keep up appearances in front of the cameras, his face is just a little bit tighter and his words just a little more clipped than usual.
I bet he’s seething on the inside.
Giving him a nod, I indicate that it’s time to start, and to Blaze’s credit, the grin he pastes onto his face is worthy of the best of toothpaste ads.
“Welcome, everyone!” He waits briefly for us to respond, before he continues. “Last we saw you lovely ladies, you showed us how well you could handle the demands of Hunter’s busy lifestyle, dancing the night away. You were mostly all up to the task, but today’s assignment is something completely different.” He gestures with an elaborate flourish to a table holding up four unlabeled envelopes. “Ladies, today you will show us exactly how much you’ve learned about our handsome bachelor over the last few weeks.”
I catch Liz eyeing me suspiciously, but I play dumb, not giving her any special attention. Instead, I step forward, Blaze’s glare burrowing into my back now that he’s off-camera.
I raise my voice. “Good evening. By making it this far, you’ve all proven that you’re willing to both work hard and play dirty.” I wink, selfishly enjoying the way both Amanda and Liz flush.
Hell, Liz looks like she’s waiting for a SWAT team to swoop down and take her away at any moment. I’m sure she expected to be kicked straight off the island after this morning—I can’t say I wasn’t tempted—but after some words with Danny, I’ve got bigger fish to fry before I talk to her again.
And we will talk.
There’s no fucking way I’m letting her take off before I hear the whole thing from her mouth. Not just bits and pieces of what she lets slip. All of it.
Taking the envelopes off the table, I approach the four of them. “In these, you will find clues to point you in the direction of something important to me. You’ll have access to the entire island until we reconvene tomorrow to find it. If you succeed, you’ll earn your place in the final challenge.”
“I think what Hunter means—” Blaze tries to interrupt.
I cut him off. “What I mean, is that the girls who fail to follow their clue… will leave. Permanently. Tomorrow is the grand finale, and this determines whether you’ll take a part or not.”
Blaze’s slightly too orange complexion turns an ugly shade of red. We’re on camera, and he’s under orders to follow our lead, but he’s about ready to throw a fucking hissy fit.
Good.
I pass out the envelopes to each of them in turn. There’s nothing fair about this assignment, but this time it’s me who’s pulling the strings.
“You’ll each have a camera following you, and you can search wherever you want. What you can’t do is ask questions or consult with the others, or anyone else working on the island.” I put on my biggest, most charming smile. “Good luck.”
The filming stops, at least for a short while, after getting shots of the shocked faces, and the women opening their envelopes. I turn towards Dad, but Blaze clamps a hand on my arm.
I freeze, every muscle going tense. Who the fuck does he think he is?
One glare, and Blaze realizes he’s treading on thin ice. Still, he’s not about to let it lie. “None of this is in the schedule! I’ve got a fucking show to run here. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Finding my future bride, of course.” I grab his shoulder with a smile, squeezing until I see a flash of discomfort cross his face. “That is the point here, right?”
Dad comes over. “Great idea! Don’t you think, Blaze?”
We’re working together for once, and I’m not sure if I feel proud, or queasy.
“Of course… I just…” Blaze is at a loss for words. “I was just surprised you didn’t run it by me first.”
“There wasn’t much time, not with the preparations for tomorrow’s shoot,” Dad says with a shrug. “Don’t worry, you’re still the ringmaster in our little circus.”
He’s an asshole most of the time, but I’ll give my father this, he has a good fucking poker face. When I told him about Blaze, he was ready to tear the sleazy host limb from limb. Something about him being an ungrateful, corpse-licking, has-been with his head too far up his ass to know not to bite the hand that feeds him. There were a lot of body parts and creativity involved. Turns out Dad was already suspicious about something going on, because the budget didn’t seem to be lining up.
Viewers love drama? We’ll make some fucking drama.
Liz stands to the side, the note with her clue held loosely between her fingers. She’s watching me suspiciously, and I can tell she wants to come over. Not much she can do so long as her assigned camerawoman hovers over her like a blood-sucking mosquito, though.
If she wants it, this is her “get out of jail free” card. All she has to do to get off the show without making a scene is fail this challenge. A challenge I know she can do in ten minutes if she wants to.
Her hair, still the wrong color, falls around her shoulders in bouncy waves. I can still feel it sliding between my fingers as I cover her gasping mouth with mine and slide deep into her welcoming body. I’d love to dwell on that thought, but instead I look at Blaze, and suddenly my shorts don’t feel nearly as tight.
Maybe I’m exactly the blind idiot my father thinks I am—my lawyer seems to think so after our last call—but I still don’t believe what Liz and I shared was a lie, and I want the chance to find out.
I just don’t know if good intentions are enough.
But at least I’ll know.
43
Liz
No girls allowed.
That’s all it says. I know right away that Hunter picked this clue for me, because there’s no way any of the others would know what he was talking about.
I look up to find him watching me. His t-shirt cuts across his biceps and hugs his chest in all sorts of attractive ways. His hair has grown since we showed up, and it hangs down in a well-calculated, sexy mess. I could watch that man all day, every day, and it might just be wishful thinking, but for some impossible reason, I think he looks at me that way too.
This small slip of paper can send me home, or keep me here.
Why has he given me the choice?
The sky is turning colors, pinks and oranges reflecting off the few clouds scuttling across it. There’s plenty of light if I hurry, but I can’t stall too long if I want to get to the clue location before dark. If I want to.
Do I?
Yes. Stupid question.
No matter how much heartbreak it might lead to, I’ll take whatever time I have left with him. I try not to pay attention to the camerawoman following me. As familiar as it is now, I’ll be glad when the show is over and my every move isn’t being saved. It’s going to be a long freakin’ time before I post my next selfie.
It takes about a half an hour to get down to the right stretch of beach. I kick off my shoes and let my toes sink into the sand. The surf rolls in slowly, white foam sliding back and forth over the sand. Now that I’m close, I don’t want to rush it.
Not far now. A couple of half-rotten boards hang from a tree by rusty nails, the remains of my attempt to make my own version of Hunter’s hideout. No girls allowed. I grin. Is the sign still there?
About ten feet from the crack in the cliff wall, there’s a little chest with a big X drawn in the sand. I stop and look around. It could be a trick. I know he means the cave, but maybe this is close enough?
Conscious of being filmed, I kneel down and reach for the chest. It’s maybe the size of half a loaf of bread. Unlocked, I flip up the ornate bronze metalwork holding it shut and slowly raise the lid. Inside is yet another envelope.
Congratulations!
Smile, you’re on camera!
Now get rid of her.
Seriously? Thanks, Hunter.
“Yay!” I jump to my feet and wave the chest around. “I found it! Um… yay!”
Still being filmed. Shit.
I grin like a loon and hop in place a little. “Listen, I found t
he thing. Do you think we can call cut on this? I really need to pee.” I cross my legs for good measure.
The camerawoman presses a button and the little red light goes off. “Yeah, sure. That’s probably enough. You want me to stick around to walk with you, or can I head back?”
“Go on, I’m fine! It might… take me a while…” So embarrassing.
She quirks her eyebrow at me and shakes her head. “Right. See you later.”
I wait for her to go, then slip between the rocks into what used to be the only place on the island that was off limits to me. I mean, I could’ve gone in. He wasn’t always there, and I could’ve snuck in. Or forced an adult to let me, but that would take away the whole point.
I wanted him to want me there.
It took ten years and a lot of crazy, but I finally got my invite.
A strip of sunlight illuminates the cave, but I can’t see much. Scents of cool, damp earth mixed with seawater fill my nose. It’s funny how much the temperature drops inside. I put one foot in front of the other with care. Hunter was the one who found the cave. I’ve only been in it once before and not for long before he kicked me out.
Scanning into the darkness, looking for signs of Hunter, I catch a movement on the ground in the corner of my eye. A mound of brown I’d dismissed as dead leaves and detritus washed in from the ocean, slithers as my shadow cuts off its access to the fading light.
My heart wrenches painfully in my chest. A horrified squeak comes out of my mouth.
The area might be wild, but thankfully there aren’t many snakes.
Except for the one right in front of me, and it looks pissed.
44
Liz
I’m frozen, gulping air, when Hunter shoves me out of the way. With a quick reach, he grabs the snake behind its head and lifts it up. The three foot snake squirms and wiggles until it gets its body wrapped around his forearm.
