Wife in Name Only

by Hayson Manning

  She hadn’t let herself think about Rory since he’d left hours ago. She couldn’t. The Band-Aid would again be ripped away, leaving her battered and bruised. She loved him. Yes. She’d find the time to un-love him when this storm was put to rest.

  If that was at all possible.

  Please don’t let me be put to rest.

  She looked down at the phone and the low battery signal.

  Yeah, I’m an idiot, but I have to fix this. I have to get the base charger.

  “Stay here girl, I won’t be long,” she murmured to Cinderella.

  Summoning all her strength, she pushed open the restaurant door, and it slammed behind her.

  The wind howled through the resort. Sand and leaves smacked her mouth and sucked away her breath. Bombs of water slammed into her face and slid down her back. Her heavy yellow slicker barely protected her from the rain that lashed the island. She inched along the wall, pulled her sweatshirt to cover her mouth, and then sprinted the few steps to the office. She yanked on the heavy door and fell to the floor as it opened. A window lash had broken free, and the window thumped against the side of the building. She spent longer than she wanted securing it. She tried to call Smithy to make sure he and Rory were safe. Her heart did a little shimmy when she allowed herself to think about Rory, but the line was breaking as she punched in Smithy’s number.

  Come on. Get organized. Get the charger and go.

  She grabbed the charger and had the same fight with the door. Coconuts raced along the ground as if invisible giants were playing a giant game of bowling. Palm trees bent forward, their frenzied limbs praying to an invisible force.

  With her muscles straining, she pulled open the door to the restaurant, removed the raincoat, dropped it on the floor, and walked to where she’d left Cinderella.

  “Cinders, where are you?” Through the filtered, gloomy light she couldn’t see the outline of her dog.

  The hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up.

  A glint of silver on the counter caught her eye. Puzzled, she looked down at her locket.

  The locket she’d lost the day…

  Her heart slammed against her ribs. She plucked the locket with trembling fingers.

  “You came back,” she whispered into the gloom, scanning the room for him. “Rory?”

  A movement out the corner of her eye caught her by surprise. Too late to react, she was lying flat on the ground, staring up into hate-filled eyes.

  “I come for what is mine.”

  Cold decision took over. She could stay and take the guy down, or she could flee and die out there. White-hot anger pulsed through her. “Give me back my dog and get the fuck off my island.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “This is it, son.” Smithy yelled over the howling winds. They were idling at the back of the island, miles away from the resort and Zoe. “Two minutes, then I’ve got to get out of here. I’ll make it to Vava’u, but I’ve got to go now.

  Rory nodded. He threw a knapsack on his back, shook Smithy’s hand, and wished him speed.

  “Call the island when you can so I know you made it and are safe.” Rory slapped Smithy on the back.

  If there’s an island to call.

  He pushed the thought away

  He was getting back to his wife tonight, and he wasn’t letting her go.

  He jumped into an inflatable Zodiac and gunned it for the shore. Waves broke over the hard canvas. The winds were increasing with every minute, goading the waves and sending spray ten feet in the air. He glanced at the sky, where angry clouds swirled slowly toward him. He pushed back the panic and ignored the pounding in his chest and the voice whispering for him to hide. He had to get to Zoe. That was more important than anything else.

  The Zodiac hit the sand. He jumped from the boat, turned, and squinted to see Smithy already disappearing in a haze of waves. The throb of the engines drowned under the howling wind. Rory pulled the boat higher, secured an anchor to a length of rope, and thumped it into the sand.

  He saluted the sky with a middle finger and hauled ass toward the other side of the island.

  As if sensing his fury and fear, a branch ripped free and ripped at his eyes, temporarily blinding him. Tasting salt and blood, he wiped his hand across his face.

  I’m coming, babe. Hold on.

  He tripped over fallen trees, smacked into airborne bushes. His breathing came in labored gasps. Every minute that passed, the sky darkened. A seething mass of black, demonic clouds punched the life out of the island. Pulling every muscle reserve in his body, he pushed against the fury of the storm. Nothing was going to stop him getting to his wife. If that fucker laid one finger on her, he’d snap his neck. That thought powered him over broken trees and through a demented wind that tried to punch him down. He ignored the vines ripping at his feet and legs, and he also ignored the fear clutching his insides, telling him to stop, roll, and take cover. After what felt like an eternity, he could just make out the eerie glow of lanterns in the restaurant, which was the highest building on the resort. It bowed and swayed but took the punishment.

  Levering his foot against the doorjamb, he pulled open the door with a grunt and stepped inside.

  “Zoe!” he shouted, desperately searching the room, twisting his head as his eyes adjusted to the murky darkness.

  There. Movement. His blood turned cold, and he lunged for a seething mass of limbs in the corner.

  A pair of scissors stuck out from the fucker’s forearm, trailing blood onto the floor. The guy and Zoe circled a table, eyes locked. A red welt marked her face.

  Without taking his eyes off his opponent, he angled himself in front of his wife.

  “Stand behind me, Zo.”

  He waited for the guy to make the first move as he sized up the situation. Judging by the blood dripping out of him at a solid rate, he’d be getting weaker. The ground was slick with the fucker’s blood, and each time the floor vibrated from the force of the wind, he felt like he might lose his footing.

  The guy lunged. Rory shifted his shoulder the instant he caught the movement, and the man missed. Rory countered with a quick jab to the jaw, connecting with bone that crunched.

  “I will kill you,” he said. “I warned you last time that I’d bury you the next time you touched her.”

  The man countered with another blow that Rory deflected, but then he slipped on the bloody floor. He kept his body angled the whole time so Zoe was behind him, and he shielded her with his body. Rage kept him calm and focused. Rory landed another blow to the side of the man’s head, and the skin on his knuckles split.

  With a howl that matched the storm outside, the man lunged for the door, threw it open, and was swallowed by the storm.

  Rory ran to the door, shoved it closed, and barricaded it with a heavy table.

  A ghostly figure stood and stumbled toward him.

  “Rory?”

  He caught her as she swayed. “Did he touch you?” he hissed, scanning her face. A deep red welt marred her cheek. He touched it, and she winced.

  “I’ve never been more scared or angry in my life. I stabbed him with the medical scissors. I didn’t even think. I just did it.”

  “Good girl,” he whispered. Pride in her courage vied with rage, and he fought the desire to run after the fucker and make sure he never hurt anyone again.

  Zoe pulled him toward a bundle of blankets, fear turning her lips white. “We’ve got to get under shelter.”

  Rory settled them under the blankets with Cinderella beside him, and he sat drinking in the sight of his strong, sexy, kick-ass wife.

  “You came back.” She touched his face again as if she wasn’t sure he was real. “In a freaking hurricane.”

  “Priorities.” He tipped her chin up. “I love you, Zoe. On the yacht…Christ. When I realized that he was coming back for you, and you were alone on this island with a category five heading your way…That is when I realized that there is only one place in the world for me.” He closed his eyes for a
second. “Great time to get over my fear of storms.”

  She gripped him tighter, and his eyes stung.

  “You’re right. This is my home. You’re my home.” He struggled to draw a breath. “I’m pretty crappy at feelings and stuff, but I know one thing. I love you, Zoe Hughes. You said before that I need a woman to challenge me. You challenge me. You’re my wife, and I’m never letting you go.” He brushed away the tear running down her face and tried for a smile. “We’ll bury Rudy later with a proper ceremony and all. He’s being retired. Forever.”

  She scanned his face. “You’re hurt,” she whispered.

  “I’m good. Superficial.”

  “We’ll see if the builders got the specs right for the resort to withstand a category five storm. If we make it out of here,” she buried herself tighter in his arms.

  “Yeah,” he breathed out.

  “Before we bury Rudy, I was wondering…” She gnawed her lip, and, despite the storm, it got his body twitching.

  His eyebrows rose.

  Heat rolled off her and heated the space around them to roasting.

  “Well, I wondered if you were up to…you know…maybe a threesome. Me, you, and Rudy.

  He pulled her into his arms and kissed his super-hot, super-sexy wife.

  “Hell, yeah.”

  The building took a direct hit from a harsh sustained wind, and the walls shuddered and groaned. He’d buried Cinderella in blankets a few feet from them, but she burrowed deeper.

  “We’ll ride out this storm, Zoe, and every other storm that comes our way. I haven’t come to realize the most important thing in my life is in my arms only for me to lose her—lose us—to fucking weather.”

  She pulled herself into his lap and kissed him as she wrapped her arms tightly around him.

  “Yeah, we’ll make it.” She wriggled against him and bit her lip. Her heat was already branding him.

  His eyebrows rose. “Really?” His hands were already undoing her bra.

  “If I’m going out with a bang, then I’m going out wrapped in you.” She kissed him, her hands making short work of his jeans. “And I want to make love to you, look you in the eyes, and know you’re mine.”

  “All yours, baby. Always.”

  Later, sated and with Zoe curled in his arms, he looked down at the water soaking the blankets and pushing under the door.

  “We’ve got to get up higher,” he yelled over the monster winds.

  She jerked out of his arms. “Storage room,” she shouted as she shot out from under the blankets, sloshing through the water. She grabbed the medical knapsack and the lanterns from the chairs. He scooped up Cinderella and followed Zoe to the back storage room. She climbed up heavy wooden racks and pushed canned tomatoes, olives, peaches, and dried bulk storage items out of her way. The built-in wooden shelves were heavy and unyielding when he stepped on the first shelf.

  “Give me Cinderella.” She called down from the top shelf about ten feet above him. At three feet wide, it would just accommodate them. He threw a trembling and terrified Cinderella over his shoulder and scaled the shelves. Splinters ripped into his fingers. He made it to the top. There they huddled on their sides and watched the water rise with every minute. Cinderella lay sandwiched between them. Zoe leaned forward on her elbow, her breath puffing against his ear.

  “Shit,” Rory whispered, staring down at the food floating in the murky water that edged closer.

  “I know,” Zoe said, fear clutching at her vowels, her teeth chattering.

  “Don’t laugh, but I’m going to deliver you some happy music.”

  “What?” she whispered.

  He gripped her tighter and hummed “Take a Chance On Me” as the water inched higher.

  …

  Zoe looked through a crack in the shelf at the water sloshing on the ground. Somehow they’d managed to stay huddled on the shelf. There’d been a brief interlude when the water had subsided and the night stilled, then the eye vanished and the other side of Francis continued its onslaught. Sometime during the night, she must have nodded off. Now the water still lapped at the floor, but it had already receded enough for them to safely escape. She tried to flex her hip and moaned at the cramp that rocked through her body.

  “Rory,” she said to his back. She squeezed his hip.

  “Yeah. I’m going to climb down first with Cinderella.” He stretched, and she heard him grunt with pain. “Think you can make it down?”

  “Yeah.” She waited until he gripped her dog in a fireman’s hold over one shoulder and climbed down the shelves before she followed him. Every muscle and bone in her body protested movement.

  Water covered their feet. He let down the dog and gripped Zoe’s hand. Dizzy, she looked to where the front door should be. Light pierced the back of her retina like a hypodermic. She moaned and squinted against the agony.

  Together they walked out, and once she’d adjusted to the bright day, she stared up into a tranquil blue sky. The shrieking wind was nothing more than a guilty breeze now. But the island…

  Nausea hit her, and she bent and gasped for air. Rory held her hair and stroked her back as her insides convulsed. She slowly stood on wobbly legs, refusing to give into muscles that felt like they’d been shredded.

  “It’s all gone,” she whispered.

  “Yeah,” he said in a quiet voice.

  She turned and took in the view. Everything had been flattened, and she could see farther than she ever had thanks to dozens of trees that no longer existed. The only things standing were the restaurant and the bungalows, one minus a roof. The doors were pushed open, and a thick layer of silt and water sloshed into the yards. It was as if a giant hand had pressed down on the tiny island, tossing aside age-old trees as if they were mere twigs. Her hand flew to her mouth as she spied the magnificent old mango tree that used to shield the beach with its strong branches lying on its side. She resisted the temptation to go over and cover the exposed roots. It looked so vulnerable with its intimate parts on display.

  Rory pulled her against him and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

  All around her rang loud silence. No singing birds, no shouts from the villagers, no shuffling sounds of lost chickens—just an eerie, unnatural quiet. A few hardy palms, exhausted after their epic battle, stood guard over their fallen comrades. Their roots were ripped out, and they lay wrecked and beaten on the ground.

  “What about Simi? Everyone?” Ice crawled down her spine. She couldn’t find the path that led to the village. Everything was covered in a thick layer of the ocean’s floor.

  A shout and a barking Cinderella spun Zoe in a three-sixty. There, hobbling toward her, cut, bruised, and with a desperate look on his face, was Simi.

  She ran toward him, hugged him, and burst into tears, letting her tears mingle with his. “Are you all right? Esther? Your family? Everyone.”

  “We made it to church, and prayed to all the different gods on the island.” He shuffled his feet. “Not everyone made it.” He looked her deep in the eye. “The man who want to hurt you, dead. Fallen palm tree.”

  Her hand stole to her throat. “Was he the only one?”

  Simi shook his head. “No, there were others. I must go.” He pulled Rory and her both into a hug. “I had to know that you were okay.” He brushed hair from her face. “Family. We stay strong and rebuild.”

  “I’m sorry he died. I didn’t want that,” she said.

  Rory’s hands tightened around her, but he said nothing. She swallowed over the lump in her throat.

  Simi raised his cane and walked away.

  She leaned against Rory’s back, trying to stay strong when all around them was nothing.

  “Rebuild,” she murmured.

  The total devastation of the island split her heart. Tears ran down her cheeks.

  “Together, babe. We can do anything together. We survived this, didn’t we?” He nuzzled her neck. “We can survive anything, me and you.” Rory spun her around to face him. “I’ve been thinkin
g. Evil plans and all. See over there?” He wiped a knuckle down her cheek then pointed to where a clump of palm trees stood. “There’s going to be a pool hall over there for when the dudes need some dude time.”

  “It’s a honeymoon resort.” She playfully slapped him. “The dudes won’t have time for dude time.”

  He ignored her and pointed to an empty space. “And over there will be a massage retreat.”

  “I like the sound of that.” She leaned in and grazed her lips across his. His sharp breath made her smile.

  “We won’t have any transport problems, since I’m now the proud owner of a fleet of yachts.” He pulled back, and his blue eyes pierced her. “I love you, Zo. This is home. You’re my home.”

  “I love you. You’re mine.” She brushed hair from his forehead. This beautiful, complicated man was all hers. “What about Hughes Enterprises and the henchmen? What about the deal of the century? We can make it work. We can spend time in L.A. and here as long as we stay together. We won’t drift apart like we did last time.”

  He looked thoughtful. “No. I don’t want to live in L.A. It turned me into a guy you didn’t like and who I didn’t recognize, let alone like. I was all about business without seeing what I was doing or who I’d become.” He shook his head. “Fuck what I nearly lost. The henchmen are doing fine. Hell, I might even invite them down for a vacation. They can learn to be Zen henchmen.” He pulled her tighter. “I’ve had people sniffing around the company for years. I think it’s time I branched out.” His eyes twinkled. “I’ve heard about this resort in the middle of nowhere that’s planning on expanding. Know anything about that?”

  She grinned. “Actually, I do. I hear she’s a tough negotiator, though. She drives a really hard bargain. I hope you’re up to it.”

  She screeched as he lifted her into his arms. “I’m up for it, babe.” He nuzzled her ear. “I’m not going anywhere without you, so you’d better get used to it.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  “You’d better because there’s no Photoshop love here. Just you and me. Forever.”