by Jools Louise
The entire staff were there, including the five guests-turned-residents, Doctor Myers, and Marty, plus a female who I didn’t recognise but figured was our new helicopter pilot.
Observing the group as I strolled up to the café, I couldn’t help noticing the exchange of interested looks between Sylvia and the other female.
“Hey, Jess, this is Cara, our new helicopter pilot,” Max called out, looking sexy from where he was lounging against the counter. I smiled at the newcomer, taking in the laidback attitude and bright smile. Black hair curved around her face in a pixie cut, framing a face that was simply breath taking. She looked like she could be on the cover of Vogue, her golden eyes and lightly tanned skin giving her an exotic look like a jungle cat. I smiled at her, introducing myself and making her welcome.
Jackson rose and studied my face in concern before breaking into a relieved smile as he took in my smug look of satisfaction. He grabbed a plate and put a couple of croissants on then filled a large mug with fresh coffee. I sat down next to him, kissing him on the cheek in thanks before tucking into breakfast after greeting everyone present.
“Apparently last night’s meeting went well?” Jackson suddenly let out a snort of amusement, looking along the path which led to the bungalows and I turned my head to see both Marcus and Louis. Marcus looked more than a little disgruntled, and judging by the way Marcus was walking, the thick log in his pants well-defined, and the way Louis was laughing at him, Jess was more than likely to blame.
I smirked, toasting both men with my coffee, then laughed aloud when Marcus flipped me off and sat down gingerly across from me, adjusting his uncomfortably tight shorts.
“Well now, mates, this place is just getting better and better.” Murphy winked at me, giving Marty the once-over and meeting an equally approving look in return.
“Darlin’, now that you’re here, it just got simply fabulous,” Marty flirted right back, in full queen mode.
Murphy grinned at him, obviously liking the look of the tall nurse.
I glanced around, then looked to Jackson.
“Is Benji okay?” I was concerned since I didn’t see any of the boys from yesterday.
As I opened my mouth, I heard a giggle and looked toward the pool.
Bayani and Datu were enjoying the cool water, swimming like eels as they played like the kids they were. I belatedly noticed their companion Benji. The injured boy lay on a lounger with a large plate of pastries and fruit on his lap, eating like it was the Last Supper.
I immediately got up, walking over to Benji. He smiled sweetly, his black eyes sparkling like obsidian. I saw a slight shadow behind the smile, but he had definitely shed his terror of us. If I hadn’t known better, I would have said the three youngsters were simply vacationing rather than refugees.
Sitting next to Benji, being careful not to get too close and frighten him, I smiled at him.
“Did you all sleep well?” I asked him and he nodded, wincing slightly.
“Your head hurts?” He nodded again, more gingerly.
I heard someone approach and looked up at Sylvia. She sat on the other side of Benji, and grinned at him and his overflowing plate.
“He is strong and is making up for lost meals.” Sylvia laughed as Benji continued to gobble up the sugary treats. “Benji has a hard head, fortunately.”
“Benji is warrior.” Bayani yelled from the pool, giggling as he splashed about.
Benji grinned at his friend and my heart ached for all that they must have been through. They were so young.
“This place is beautiful.” Cara, walked with a lithe grace toward us with a poise that I couldn’t hope to emulate in a gazillion years.
“You are pretty lady.” Benji finally took a break, looking up at Cara in admiration.
Cara smiled down at the boy, kneeling with ease. I refrained from rolling my eyes. I felt like a blimp next to this stunning creature and unconsciously held in my stomach just a little.
“Well now, thank you for the compliment. I’m Cara, how do you do?” She shook hands with Benji, not flinching as his sticky fingers clutched hers.
“What’s going to happen next?” I asked Sylvia, gesturing to the boys.
Sylvia looked at me, blue eyes steady.
“What do you think should happen next?”
I stared, knowing what she was asking. I mulled the problem over in my head. The three youngsters should be returned to their homes, but since the Triads knew where to find their parents it would be foolish to place them back in harm’s way. Here on the island there was still the threat of a return by the gang of egg thieves to collect what they considered was theirs. And what was the legal thing to do? Perhaps we could apply for guardianship of the boys.
“Bayani, Datu, come and finish your breakfast,” Max called to the boys and they nodded, scrambling from the pool.
“I think maybe we’ll let them decide.” Sylvia smiled, putting her hand on my arm and moving away.
I was left with Benji and Cara. I’m not usually awkward with people, but I felt at a distinct disadvantage next to this beautiful woman.
“I envy you,” Cara spoke matter-of-factly, her golden eyes giving me a direct stare.
“You? Envy me?” I must have looked disbelieving since she grinned suddenly, her face lighting up impishly.
“I’m thin as a stick, you’re curvy and have a really nice rack.” I snorted, wrinkling my nose at her frankness. “You have a whole bunch of reeallly sexy guys panting after you and I’m still looking for my perfect partner. You apparently took on a bunch of bad guys and won, while I was waiting in an airport lounge eating cheese sandwiches and sipping a coke. Some girls have all the luck.” Cara’s accent, like everything else about her, was exotic. I’d seen her résumé and knew she was originally from Argentina. Fluent in several languages, she had left the country to study in the USA. Joining the US Air Force, she became an aviator, first getting her solo license and then specializing as a helicopter pilot.
“You fly helicopters, look like a catwalk model, and sound like Penelope Cruz. What exactly do you need to be envious of?”
“Pretty lady flies planes?” Benji suddenly spoke, looking in awe at Cara, eyes wide.
She looked at the boy.
“Benji, I am the queen of the skies my dear. I can fly anything.” Benji giggled at her teasing. I couldn’t help but smile, since the two had bonded quickly. Benji seemed more relaxed with Cara than with anyone so far. I wondered if perhaps the solution to the boys’ future may lie here on El Santuario after all.
I saw a wistful look in the pilot’s eyes, and making an excuse I left the two to talk aeroplanes and the mysteries of flight.
Marcus cornered me as I left the café to go to the office. I rolled my eyes.
“Surely you don’t think I’m in danger from anyone between here and the office do you?” I gave him a snarky smile, grinning when he dragged me against him and slapped my ass as we walked.
“Surely you don’t think you’re going to get away with horning me up and then leaving me wanting?” Marcus grinned right back and my eyes widened when he suddenly hauled me over his shoulder, fireman style.
I squealed, giggling like an idiot. I dangled like a sack of King Edward potatoes, my head level with his taut butt. Hmmm. I paused for just a second, then gave him a sharp nip, still giggling.
He yelped, his hand smacking my quivering bottom.
“Hey! No biting the merchandise!”
I reached around between his legs, grabbing his hardening crotch and giving it a tight squeeze. He laughed, batting my hands away as I continued to grope him. We reached the office and without letting me down he unlocked the door and entered, chuckling as he tried to defend his extremities from my roaming hands.
Eventually he put me down, pushing me against the wall as soon as we were inside, his hot mouth fusing to mine as he ground his body against mine. My leg went around his waist and pressed against him, stimulating my clit by dry-fucking his muscular thigh.
“So, this is what you left me for? An unclean little whore with no morals who sleeps with any man she meets?” Marcus and I froze at the sound of the voice. Harrison. He sounded mean and angry.
Slowly Marcus turned, pushing me behind him and away from potential danger.
“Harrison. I’m sorry I was a heartless dick when I ended things. It was over long before I left, though.”
“Liar!” Harrison spat the word venomously. “You loved me. We were getting married. Then this little bitch comes on the scene and suddenly you don’t want to know me!”
I peeped around Marcus’s large frame. Harrison was practically foaming at the mouth, madness giving his eyes a feral look. My eyes widened as I took in his weaponry. In one hand he held a hand grenade, in the other, a pistol aimed right at us. His clothing was dirty and torn, like he’d been digging or gardening or something. Cautiously I looked around, trying to find something to fight back with.
The desk was to my left and I began to edge toward it. Since the attacks on the island by the poachers I had taken to keeping a handgun in the drawer. Marcus knew about the gun but didn’t budge, pressing me back against the wall. I scowled at his back, my face smushed against his cotton shirt.
“Harrison, we were finished before the attack in Afghanistan. You were hit by the Taliban. A mortar destroyed the Jackal you were in. It happened four years ago. Jess had nothing to do with us breaking up. Let her go.”
“Lies! Why are you lying? We’re soul mates. We belong together. Let me get rid of this fat bitch and we can be together for always!” If the situation had not been so dire I would have rolled my eyes. Talk about melodramatic! Geez! He sounded like a daytime soap opera actor…on steroids.
“Harrison. Harry. Put the gun down. I’ll come with you. You’re right. I want to be with you, so let’s leave together.” Harrison paused, staring at Marcus with his mad eyes.
“Lies! You’ll go back to her and your dickhead friends!” Harrison pulled the pin on the hand grenade, his mouth snarling like some rabid dog.
As soon as he realized what had happened, Marcus reacted with lightning speed. One arm went around my waist and he leapt behind the heavy oak desk, dragging the thing over to act as a shield. His large body covered mine, squishing me into the carpet and I screamed as the room suddenly exploded. Literally. Then my world went black.
Chapter Eight:
One Lost Soul…and Fifty Thousand New Ones
My head hurt, my throat was dry as the Sahara desert, and my body felt a little like it had been steamrollered…repeatedly. My eyes opened, then widened. The entire crew was in the hospital room with me, all but one member and all looking sombre. My brain caught up and I felt tears leaking along my cheeks.
“Where’s Marcus?” No one spoke, exchanging glances, and I scowled, wincing at the sudden pain in my temple. “I asked where Marcus was. Is he okay? Please tell me he isn’t dead?” I tried to move, groaning as my muscles protested vigorously.
Jackson, sitting nearest to me hung his head. I took his hand in mine, crying.
“Marcus isn’t dead, luv.” I sniffed, staring as the man in question answered me from the doorway. One leg, an arm, and his head was bandaged and he wore a hospital smock. He was lying on a hospital bed, Marty the nurse pushing him into my room.
“I’m hard to kill it seems.” Marcus tried to smile but I could see the sadness in his eyes. Marty manoeuvred the gurney next to my bed, as Jackson moved aside and I reached out my hand.
“Hey, Jess. Glad you made it back.” I could see tears in his hazel eyes.
“Where else would I go?” My breath hitched as a sob tried to rise up in my throat.
Louis moved beside Marcus, helping to sit him up. He kept his arm around his friend and lover, easing up next to him as Marcus rested his weary head on Louis’s chest. Louis kissed his temple tenderly, holding him close.
“Is Harrison dead?” I asked the obvious question. Marcus flinched, nodding.
“What happened was my mistake,” Jackson spoke up, his tone firm yet sad.
“No, Jacks, it was my mistake. I knew he was on the guest list and I should have left. I exacerbated the situation until he snapped. I killed him.”
“Marcus, I’m not a psychology major but what happened was not your fault. He was flushing his medication down the toilet, making us believe he’d taken it. I found evidence in his room, some had spilled in the bathroom,” Marty spoke up, is drawl for once non-existent. “We’ve been monitoring him for weeks and he was fooling everybody. The man was very clever and from what I understand he manipulated his way onto this island for the purpose of taking you out…permanently.”
“He knew Marcus was here?” I asked the question incredulously.
“Apparently he accessed confidential files and found out where Marcus was,” Jackson said sombrely. “He’s been cyber-stalking Marcus for years. I should have picked up on it sooner. I met Harrison years ago and knew he was a techno-whizz. I thought it was odd at first that he was on the programme, since I remember he passed all his psyche-eval tests after the attack in Afghanistan. He spent the past four years trying to find Marcus, then forged documents to ensure he ended up here. He tricked us all. He was a very clever psychopath.”
I couldn’t believe Harrison had been so devious. He had acted like the others I’d seen here who were recovering from mental trauma. I had not spent much time with him, since he had been someone who had been classed as an extreme case. Jackson and three other equally eminent psychiatrists had all evaluated Harrison and decided he was okay to travel and take part in the programme at El Santuario. I was glad I had no memory of the blast which had killed him.
“Harrison was evil,” Michael spoke up, saying what we were all feeling.
“My gang leader was like that. On the surface he was calm and collected. When someone thwarted him, though, he turned into a raging lunatic.” Caleb said the words quietly, one of the few times he volunteered information about his past.
I moved slightly, groaning as pain stabbed in my ribs and hip.
“I feel like I got thrown through a window.” The room went quiet as I complained grumpily.
“That’s because you did, luv. The blast chucked both you and Marcus out of the office. The desk saved you, since it absorbed most of the explosion. You both wound up outside on the path, since the desk smashed through the wall. Marcus landed on the desk so he got cut more badly. You hit the path, hence the cracked ribs and hip.” Dean moved around and eased up next to me on my bed. His clean scent reached my nostrils and I rested against him, taking comfort from his warm body. Michael ended up lying on my other side with Caleb perched at the bottom of the bed massaging my feet.
I stared at my guys, trying to absorb all the events of the past few weeks into my tired brain, but couldn’t quite manage it.
“You know, Jackson, you promised me a life of fantastic sex on an idyllic tropical island with no stress…what happened?” I spoke drolly, thinking that I’d seen more violence on El Santuario than I really cared to.
I heard a choked off chuckle as my comment hit Jackson’s funny bone.
“You’re telling me the sex with us isn’t fantastic?” Jackson sounded wounded.
I gave him a long look and he chuckled again.
“At least you can’t say it’s been boring.” I snorted, snuggling against Dean’s chest as Michael spooned against my other side. My eyes were drooping as I drifted off.
“I really don’t know what the issue is, here,” Max piped up, not to be ignored. “How could you possibly think that turtle poachers, Triad gangs, and psychopathic ex-lovers were stressful?” Before I sank into blissful oblivion I flipped him off, smiling sleepily at the round of laughter which echoed from each of the guys.
“Idiot!”
I spent a few of days in the medical centre, since Sylvia was concerned about my ribs. Apparently she didn’t trust me not to injure myself and so had me monitored. My instructions for being released were “T
ry to keep the bedroom Olympics to a minimum. I don’t want to have to operate on a punctured lung.” I’d rolled my eyes at her, after which I asked her innocently how Cara was working out. Her impolite hand gesture had me laughing and then wincing in pain as I left the hospital accompanied by Caleb, Max, and Dean.
Apparently I was going to be under close guard for the next few days. I wasn’t complaining, since they were extremely attentive and plied me with all kinds of goodies when I was injured.
Three weeks on and no more signs of the Triad poachers had been seen. This was good news for us, since the turtle hatchlings were just about ready to hatch. I was still under close guard, which was actually good fun. At any moment I would have one or more of my fellas with me, usually distracting me from my office work with lots of time to enjoy their company. Each man was very different in personality, and I thought of my life here as being a slightly different take on the Forrest Gump box of chocolates scenario. Instead of not knowing what I was going to get, I had already selected my favourite flavours and liked to indulge myself by mixing them up. Whoever thought up the phrase “variety is the spice of life” had obviously been in a ménage relationship like I was.
This morning I had managed to lose my usual escort, since I heard Raphael the wildlife geek saying that the turtle nests were showing signs of life. Since there was no way in hell I was not going to be witnessing the ensuing miracle of nature, I managed to leave the office undetected.
I felt quite proud of myself that I had been so stealthy and grabbed my backpack to take with me. A pistol, water, snacks, a camera, binoculars, and a satellite phone were my essential supplies and I hurried along the trail like a fugitive, looking over my shoulder for signs of pursuit. I really did not want to be carried back to base like a sack of onions over someone’s shoulder.
I made the trip to the beach in record time, despite my still-healing injuries. My ribs and hip twinged a bit that was all. All that time spent writhing between studs must’ve been helping my stamina! Probably not, though. It was more the thought of being caught that had me practically running along the path. If only my old PE teacher could see me now!
