by K. M. Galvin
“The others are fine. They made it to St. Croix and alerted the authorities.”
“St. Croix?” I gasp. That was thirty miles from where the yacht was last. The captain sent out GPS to all our phones so we could stay in contact with our loved ones, especially when we were alerted to the storm.
“You’re another forty miles from there, on one of the protected islands,” Carter continues.
“Protected?” East asks.
“Sacred would be a better term.”
“That’s crazy. I can’t believe we were blown so far off course.” I tug the ends of my hair anxiously. “No wonder you all had such a hard time finding us.”
“The storm was a problem and partly why they had to call off the search so soon. There was so much damage to the islands they couldn’t spare the resources. And this being protected land, no one really comes out this way.”
“Carter, where’s Henry?” East interjects.
Carter brightens. “He’s back at home. He’s going nuts. We’ll have to call him the second we’re back.”
East’s face drops when he hears he still has a way to go before he has his son in his arms, but he straightens his shoulders. “Well, let’s go. Let’s go now!”
I look from one brother to the other, still surprised by how identical they are, and take a few steps back. “I’m just going to go grab some stuff.”
I take off quickly to our camp, my chest tight, and duck under the tarp. I cover my mouth with my hand and squeeze my eyes shut tightly, blowing out a breath. Looking around, I take in our temporary home.
“Hurry!” East yells from somewhere close, and I quickly wipe my cheeks.
Looking around, I spot the knife that basically saved our lives. I kick some sand onto the fire and feel an instant panic as my reflexes lock, but I remind myself that we don’t need to keep it going.
With a quick glance at the leaves East and I slept on, made love on, I murmur a quiet goodbye and tuck the knife into the pocket of my cotton shorts. “Coming!”
THE RIDE TO THE ISLAND is surreal. I periodically pinch myself to make sure this is really happening and not another delirious dream. East and Carter talk incessantly, filling each other in on their lives. I offer nothing. I don’t respond to any questions and I make no comment about my experience. All I can do is watch the sea underneath fly by as Carter takes us to safety.
Safety.
“Hey,” East nudges me. I turn towards him; the headphones look so out of place that I blink stupidly at him. He looks so out of place. “You ok?”
“I’m fine.”
His brows lower slightly; maybe I’m not as good a liar as I believe myself to be. “You sure?”
Forcing a smile, I say, “Just tired. And kinda can’t believing this is happening.”
East relaxes and grins back. “I can’t wait to see Henry and be home. Imagine sleeping on a mattress, Taylor.”
The helicopter dips before I can respond and my hands grip the safety straps in fear.
“Sorry! We’re dropping altitude; it gets a little jerky with the winds here,” Carter apologizes, and I loosen my grip.
East puts a hand on my knee and I stare at it as he turns his attention back to his twin. “So what’s the deal when we land?” East asks eagerly.
“You have to go to the hospital first. I’m sure you’re malnourished and probably dehydrated. Plus all that sun exposure and God only knows what else. You need to get checked out. I’ll be speaking with local authorities. I’m sure they’ll want to talk to you too.”
“When can we get back home?” East squeezes my knee and I nearly knock his hand off.
I tune everything around me out. What’s ahead is beginning to overwhelm me. Getting passports, access to bank accounts—shit, do I even have my apartment anymore? I wonder if the girl subletting my apartment ditched or got kicked out.
The closer we get to the landing strip, the more my thoughts race with all that’s going to happen. Surely an attractive millionaire disappearing, getting pronounced dead, and then being found will be newsworthy.
The thought of my pain, my life, dissected and put on display for consummation by people who don’t know me, who want nothing more than to feed on the drama and spectacle of the best and worst time of my life?
I fit nowhere in East’s life. I want nothing to do with the attention he’s going to draw. I want nothing more than to disappear, and since our island isn’t an option, back to my dad’s cabin seems as good a place as any.
I look up to find East watching me with a penetrating expression, like he knows what I’m thinking. Maybe he does. We just spent every moment in isolation with each other for over a month.
Doesn’t matter, though, because the only way to survive the loss of him is to leave him first. I force a smile on my face; hopefully that reassures him and turn back to look out the window as we begin our descent.
We’re separated almost instantly. This is something I had prepared for, but East did not. He fought…something I didn’t expect. If I were to close my eyes, now days later, I would still see him struggling in the hands of nurses and doctors, Carter yelling for him to relax and the resulting sedation when he refused.
I couldn’t move as they wheeled me away. It shocked me, his reaction; the fierceness to stay by me like we have been every moment since the day the boat sank. My heart pounds; sweat dotting my forehead as I fight the anxiety. Everything is so loud here. People are so loud. Not to mention the smell. Everything smelled like gas and garbage.
I close my eyes and picture myself back on my island. I keep them closed as the doctors draw blood, insert an IV and eventually give me something that knocks me out.
Now, as I wake up slowly, I’m immediately disoriented by the softness I’m lying on. The thin blankets and sheets feel heavier than they should. I keep my eyes shut, already wincing at the red from the bright, artificial light through my lids. The beeping from my machines increases as the otherworldliness sets in.
“Are you awake?” a low voice asks near my head.
I slowly nod and blink my eyes open to see Carter staring at me.
His eyes shut briefly in relief as our gazes meet. “I don’t think I really believed you both were alive and ok until just now.”
“East?” I ask, smacking my lips when I realize how dry my mouth is.
Carter grabs the cup of water next to me. “He’s fine. Still sleeping off the sedative. You both were dehydrated, anemic, and had very low blood pressures. They’ve been pumping you with fluids and blood most of the night.”
“How bad…?” I wince at my sore arm and brush my hair out of my face.
Carter swallows roughly. “How bad do you both look?”
“Yes. Don’t lie.” I take another sip of water, sitting up more.
“Well—” He stalls and looks to the door for help. “Like you’ve been through hell. Probably because you have. You can see for yourself.”
I blink in surprise that I could. Oh shit, I haven’t looked at myself for so long. Would I recognize myself?
I brush the blanket off me and swing my legs to the side, eyes widening as I notice how twig like they look. Now being surrounded by healthy people, I’m becoming more aware of how frail I look and feel. I mean, I knew, but to see it next to people in good physical health…it’s shocking.
“Here, lean on me.” Carter’s out of his chair and wrapping an arm around my waist before I can protest. It should feel weird, but he’s so familiar. Guess it helps that he looks exactly like his brother, being his twin, and all.
I whisper my thanks and walk towards the bathroom in trepidation, gripping the support rail as we clear the door. “I’ve got it from here.”
“I’m going to page your nurse and go check on East,” Carter says before granting me privacy. Somehow I think he realizes the gravity of this.
I close the door gingerly and walk to the toilet, relieving myself the civilized way. “God,” I whisper, shocked by how used to living in the wild I
had gotten. You know you’ve been in it when using the toilet seems like the height of luxury.
I finish my business and move to the sink, where the dreaded mirror waits for me. I keep my head lowered as I wash my hands, wincing when I see some sand go down the drain. Soon all remnants of my temporary home will wash away.
Taking a deep breath, I raise my head and lock eyes on my reflection. Exhaling in a rush, my eyes fill at how sharp my cheekbones have gotten. My lips are chapped and bloodless. My skin is deeply tanned, the freckles that rarely made appearances before dotting my nose and cheeks. I play with the choppy ends of my butchered hair and laugh at the memory. My brown eyes look almost black in my face.
I look wild. I feel wild with nothing to tether me.
A brief knock on the bathroom door startles me. “Ms. McKay? Your friend is here and the authorities would like to take your statement,” the nurse calls to me.
My heart leaps at the thought of seeing East again and, suddenly self-conscious, I splash cold water on my face. “Coming!”
I reach behind me to secure the back tighter—no need to flash my bony ass to the world—and open the door. I look to the nurse, who’s changing the bed linens, and wonder where East is.
“Taylor,” a voice gasps behind me, and I turn to see Jamie.
Blinking in shock, I don’t move as he crossed from the door to my room and takes me into his arms.
“Oh my God, Taylor!” he cries into my shoulder, grabbing onto my hospital gown tightly.
“Jamie,” I murmur in confusion. “How? Why are you—” I cut myself off, realizing it’s rude. I should be happy to have anyone here to see me.
He leans back, his handsome face clearly distraught, and takes me by the shoulders. “Taylor, we were together for six years, and friends before that. Just because you broke up with me doesn’t mean I don’t still care about you.”
I bite my lip as emotion assaults me; I did think he didn’t care anymore. Glad to have someone, I step back into him and hug him back this time. “Thank you.”
“Do you mind if I look at your chart?” he whispers. I shrug my shoulders; what did I care? “Have you spoken to the authorities yet?”
“They are waiting outside, Ms. McKay,” the nurse cuts in, gesturing for me to resume my spot on the bed. Grabbing the IV stand, I roll it with me as I go.
“Why do I feel so heavy?” I murmur as Jamie raises my bed to a sitting position.
He looks at my chart, flipping pages quickly, brows furrowing in concern. “You were given a mild sedative. Taylor, you lost over twenty pounds.”
My chest caves slightly, embarrassed.
Jamie, noticing my distress, hooks the chart back onto the end of the bed and sits in the chair beside it. “Do you want me to stay or go while you talk to them?”
The thought of facing any more people I didn’t know fills me with anxiety. “Stay, please.”
The nurse opens the door to my room and two uniformed men enter. Both dark skinned men stood tall and proud, with serious looks on their faces. If it weren’t for the concern in both their eyes, I would think I was going to be interrogated instead of giving my statement.
“Ms. McKay?” the officer on the left asks, taking the first steps into the room. His melodic accent pleasing to my ears, I nod.
“My name is Officer Cruce. This is my partner Officer Aarden. If you don’t mind, we need to get your statement on the events that took place August 9th, 2017 and the resulting forty-seven days afterward.”
“Forty-seven days?” I gape; I didn’t realize it had been that long. I thought maybe twenty-one. How many days ran together? How long was I unconscious on the boat?
“Yes, miss,” Officer Aarden affirms.
“Do you want me to start from before the accident or after?” I twist my hands in my blankets as those memories I tried my best to bury creep up to the surface.
“The beginning, please,” Officer Cruce requests, pulling out a notebook and a recorder.
A hand covers mine and I turn my palm up to lace my fingers with Jamie’s.
“The night of the accident, there were some rumors about a hurricane in our path—”
It took over two hours to tell the story and answer all their questions. I gripped Jamie’s hand tightly the entire time. The doctor came in after to join the conversation, discussing our injuries and the changes I had noticed. In particular, the lack of a period and whether or not I had intercourse. The embarrassment was brutal and I pushed back as to whether or not this is pertinent, but my non-answer seemed to be an answer itself.
Jamie bristled at this, but I chose to ignore it. My doctor mentioned that I could still have gotten pregnant if I was ovulating at the time, regardless of the fact he pulled out. It wasn’t birth control. The likelihood is low considering the state and stress my body has been in, but I would need to monitor myself.
I shook my head in disbelief; I had briefly considered…
Jamie left shortly after to return to his hotel to get some sleep; he hopped on a plane as soon as he heard on the news that we had been found and hasn’t slept in over twenty-four hours. I thanked him again for coming, but I was more than happy to finally be alone.
I wake hours later to the feel of someone lying beside me. I don’t tense or startle, as familiar with his body as I am. Turning onto my side to face him, I memorize his face. The dark fan of his lashes hiding his startling eyes from me; inky black hair sweeps over his broad forehead and sharp cheekbones and a proud nose. Lips full and defined, hard to look but soft at the touch. I wet my lips, remembering the last time I felt those soft lips against my own. Shaping a kiss filled with lust and life.
He’s also in a generic hospital gown and it somehow strips him of his strength. It makes me want to pull him into me, mine to protect from this unfamiliar world we’re in. Instead, I ball my hands under my chin, content to look at him. I realize it’s been over twelve hours since I’ve seen him, the longest we’ve been apart in thirty-seven days.
As if feeling my stare, East blinks his eyes open. I bring my fingers to his face and caress his cheek. “Go back to sleep.” I don’t want him to wake up because then he’ll have to leave.
East catches my fingers, bringing them to his lips, and presses soft kisses to each one, keeping his eyes locked on mine. “I don’t want to miss another minute with you.”
Tears come instantly. “You need to leave.” It wasn’t a demand so much as a statement.
“Come with me,” he urges as panic infuses in his stare.
I blink and the tears trail down my cheeks before settling into my hair. “I don’t belong there. We don’t know each other, not really.”
East rests his head against mine. “Bullshit. Bullshit, Taylor. You know me better than anyone else.”
“I didn’t know you had a twin. I didn’t know you have enough money to have a helicopter. You’re like some rich American prince.”
East smiles. “You’re being ridiculous. Don’t tell me you’re intimidated by wealth when you consider your last career.”
He’s right, sort of. “Dealing with other people’s money is a lot different than this. It’s not only the money—it’s the attention you draw. I don’t want to be in the news, I don’t want to talk about—” I break off, frustrated he’s not understanding.
“It’s personal, I understand, but I don’t know how I’m going to go back to a life without you in it.”
A throat clears from the doorway. “Excuse me.”
I lift my head and see Jamie, dressed in his khakis and a polo, his hair perfectly gelled and glasses firmly in place. He looks so out of place with East’s near. Regardless, getting caught in bed with…I don’t know what to call East…is still extremely awkward. I give him a tiny wave and East turns to see our visitor, stiffening immediately.
“Who are you?” East barks, sitting up and pulling up the blankets to cover me.
I flush at his tone and Jamie’s startled, then knowing look.
Before Jam
ie can answer, I tell East, “You should leave. I’ll come see you soon.”
The silence is deafening and is answer enough to how East feels being dismissed. Keeping my eyes on Jamie, I hear the bed squeak has he gets off and continue to stare at my temporary lifeline when he opens the door hard enough for it to slam into the wall.
The second he’s gone, I sink back down onto my back, deflating completely.
“I guess that answers my question as to whether or not anything happened between the two of you.” Jamie breaks the quiet with his amused observation.
Covering my burning face with my hands, I say, “This isn’t funny.”
Jamie sighs and resumes his favorite seat by my bed. “I suppose it isn’t.”
I look at him and am relieved to see an unconcerned expression on his face. “You’re not mad?”
Jamie laughs a little. “Taylor, no. We broke up months ago, but our relationship ended long before that. I consider you one of my closest friends, even if you cut me off completely by running to play Cinderella on a boat.”
Blushing, I say, “I am not Cinderella.”
“Were you not a maid on a boat who got swept off her feet by a rich, handsome prince?”
“God. Shut up.” I laugh loudly, but quickly they turn to gasps and Jamie’s there instantly, hugging me to him.
“It’s going to be ok.”
“No! It’s really not. I have no job, no money. My apartment and all my stuff were probably given away. And my dad’s cabin!”
“One problem at a time. I’ve been on the phone all morning. You don’t need a passport since St. Croix is a United States territory. I went by your apartment building before I left and spoke with the super. He put everything in a locker. Luckily you were discovered before it was put up for sale. As for your dad’s cabin, I found the key in the box you kept of his things and sent people up there to get it cleaned and the refrigerator filled with food. I also sent everything in the locker. I figure that’s where you’d like to hide out until you got back on your feet.”
I stare at him openmouthed. “Jamie,” I whisper, completely overwhelmed.
