Sara Thacker's Blog: Red Skhye In Morning, page 11
June 15, 2011
Chapter 11: Part 1
Richard knew that half the fun of the kill was the watching. If that guy with the striking girl were gone then this would be perfect, but he would have to make it fun even if they had company. Maybe he could get the man to watch. That would make the experience better.
He made his way back to the beach where his dinghy sat. He needed to hide the boat, which meant he had to deflate the device. He hated having to hobble his quick get away.
He went to work unscrewing the plug and dragging the outboard motor to the outcropping of bushes two hundred meters away. If his target and the man with her looked too deeply they would probably find the motor, but they would have no idea how long it had been here.
With his small machete he hacked away at the limbs and cut away enough foliage to cover the boat and the motor. He screwed the plug back into the boat and prayed that he wouldn't need it anytime soon. His main boat was anchored at another island a few miles away. If he needed to escape quickly he would have to use something else. Maybe the sailboat he'd seen earlier could become his second boat. He could find a place for it. Or maybe he'd just salvage it.
He stopped his work and listened. Voices floated over the trees, the girl and her companion were close. Usually he only picked women who were alone or easy to make alone. Maybe he should leave and find another girl. No, he needed a new girl before he crossed over to the other ocean and searching in town was getting too dangerous.
After this one he could wait a few months before taking a new one. It's just he'd been so excited about the last girl. Her behavior disappointed him so deeply. The piercings were ingenious. You could do so much with the pain. The rings and bars could be used with so many different harnesses and connection points. The pleasurable would have been incredible. This girl demanded a different type of pleasure.
Their voices came closer, signaling that they were almost upon him. He looked around, searching for a place for him to hide. If he ducked into the bushes he might dislodge the cover over the motor and he couldn't have that.
He ran the other way, sneaking across the slight rise and down the other side. For a brief second they could see him and he they, but their attention was focused in the other direction. If either one of them had looked up his cover would have been blown. But they were oblivious to him.
He decided to stay just behind the ridge where a few bushes hid his spying. His heart pumped wildly as they strolled along the path. When they came to the outcropping where he had hidden his little dinghy they didn't even hesitate. He had won. They had no clue that he watched them. They were oblivious to the havoc he could wreak.
He though about the girl and how slim her waist looked. He grew stiff just envisioning her naked breasts. The things he could do with her. She would be better than the girl he'd dropped off a week ago. The way he would tie her up, force her to submit. This would be a tough girl to crack, he could tell by the way she walked.
Once he forced her to be submissive then he could start molding her. Maybe he'd let this one live. She could be his masterpiece. The one who lasted longer then a few days. Getting her through the Canal would be difficult, but what the hell, life was boring without risks.
Maybe the guy should die on island. It would make life easier. The first time he took this striking new toy he wanted the guy there. He wanted to see the anger in the man's eyes as he forced the girl to do degrading things. Power over others was the most important thing in the universe. Taking the girl in front of the man would give him the other man's power, thus making him stronger.
Richard almost laughed out loud. Thank goodness he remembered where he was. The couple had passed his hideout a long time ago. It was time to start formulating a real plan for the take down. Two days, that all he needed for the plan to work, and then he would have it all. The girl, the guy's power and the release he needed.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
He made his way back to the beach where his dinghy sat. He needed to hide the boat, which meant he had to deflate the device. He hated having to hobble his quick get away.
He went to work unscrewing the plug and dragging the outboard motor to the outcropping of bushes two hundred meters away. If his target and the man with her looked too deeply they would probably find the motor, but they would have no idea how long it had been here.
With his small machete he hacked away at the limbs and cut away enough foliage to cover the boat and the motor. He screwed the plug back into the boat and prayed that he wouldn't need it anytime soon. His main boat was anchored at another island a few miles away. If he needed to escape quickly he would have to use something else. Maybe the sailboat he'd seen earlier could become his second boat. He could find a place for it. Or maybe he'd just salvage it.
He stopped his work and listened. Voices floated over the trees, the girl and her companion were close. Usually he only picked women who were alone or easy to make alone. Maybe he should leave and find another girl. No, he needed a new girl before he crossed over to the other ocean and searching in town was getting too dangerous.
After this one he could wait a few months before taking a new one. It's just he'd been so excited about the last girl. Her behavior disappointed him so deeply. The piercings were ingenious. You could do so much with the pain. The rings and bars could be used with so many different harnesses and connection points. The pleasurable would have been incredible. This girl demanded a different type of pleasure.
Their voices came closer, signaling that they were almost upon him. He looked around, searching for a place for him to hide. If he ducked into the bushes he might dislodge the cover over the motor and he couldn't have that.
He ran the other way, sneaking across the slight rise and down the other side. For a brief second they could see him and he they, but their attention was focused in the other direction. If either one of them had looked up his cover would have been blown. But they were oblivious to him.
He decided to stay just behind the ridge where a few bushes hid his spying. His heart pumped wildly as they strolled along the path. When they came to the outcropping where he had hidden his little dinghy they didn't even hesitate. He had won. They had no clue that he watched them. They were oblivious to the havoc he could wreak.
He though about the girl and how slim her waist looked. He grew stiff just envisioning her naked breasts. The things he could do with her. She would be better than the girl he'd dropped off a week ago. The way he would tie her up, force her to submit. This would be a tough girl to crack, he could tell by the way she walked.
Once he forced her to be submissive then he could start molding her. Maybe he'd let this one live. She could be his masterpiece. The one who lasted longer then a few days. Getting her through the Canal would be difficult, but what the hell, life was boring without risks.
Maybe the guy should die on island. It would make life easier. The first time he took this striking new toy he wanted the guy there. He wanted to see the anger in the man's eyes as he forced the girl to do degrading things. Power over others was the most important thing in the universe. Taking the girl in front of the man would give him the other man's power, thus making him stronger.
Richard almost laughed out loud. Thank goodness he remembered where he was. The couple had passed his hideout a long time ago. It was time to start formulating a real plan for the take down. Two days, that all he needed for the plan to work, and then he would have it all. The girl, the guy's power and the release he needed.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
June 14, 2011
Chapter 10: Part 6
A bright blue expanse of the sky left Sam wondering how he could lengthen his time on the island with Delanie. His repairs would only take a day since they were minimal. Maybe his reason to stay could come from the island itself. He'd walked the island earlier, finding only a few trees that needed to be cut down and burned. But burning anything on an island was dangerous. The fire needed to be kept small. Maybe he could make up multiple stacks, like small campfires. It would take a few days, giving him reason to stay. Maybe he and Delanie could make a romantic evening of the campfire.
After Delanie stopped being creeped out from the knife going missing, they had enjoyed the fajitas. He'd checked her finger to make sure she didn't need stitches. Not that he could have done anything other than boat her over to the big island and get her medical attention, but he hadn't seen any need. The cut was minimal. She would need to keep it clean though.
Of course the main islands that was packed with people on vacation and they were probably having major issues. He could only imagine how many people were injured, how many houses damaged and how many trees were down.
Later he'd go over to the island with Delanie. It would give them some time to get to know each other. He raised the axe above his head and swung it down hard.
"Hey, lumberjack man, want some water?"
Delanie was a vision. The sarong wrapped over her bikini molded to her body. "Sure, I'm a bit thirsty."
"Listen, I was wondering if we could comb over the island and check the damage."
"Sure, can you wait until I get this tree chopped down?"
"My pleasure. I'll just sit over here and watch you work."
For a moment he wondered if she was teasing him. When she sat down on a rock in perfect view of his work area his stomach flopped. He would be lying if he said he didn't want to show off for her. The axe was heavy, the work hard. His pride revved up.
Chopping wood was a rather manly activity, something that bolstered a primitive, beastly part of him. He picked up the axe, making sure not to let his ego get so big that he made a mistake.
Trying his best to ignore her, he let the axe fall over and over again. His focus stayed on the wood, making sure he didn't accidently hit his foot. That would suck. Making a mistake like that wouldn't impress anyone, least of all this beautiful woman.
He finished with the tree and sunk the axe into a stump, making sure it would stay secure. "I'm ready."
Delanie frowned, "We need to lock that up."
"I'll put it up before nightfall. And I promise to oil the blade before I store the tool."
She stood and shuffled from one foot to another, "I'm not worried about that."
The missing items had gotten to her. To tell the truth he felt odd about the issue. The underwear missing could easily be explained away, the rope too, but the knife missing was a bit much.
"Let's go lock it in the shed on our way around the island."
"I like you Sam." Delanie's face turned pink, almost like she hadn't meant to talk out loud.
"Delanie, I like you too. I'm not sure what the next few days are going to bring, but I really enjoy spending time with you."
"Good."
They walked back towards the lagoon where the shed stood. The silence was companionable, almost like they had known each other for longer than a few days. A flock of red and yellow birds surprised them, bursting to flight like a shotgun.
"Oh, that was scary." Delanie sounded breathless.
He chuckled then slid his free arm around her. "I would have protected you."
Her face was upturned, only inches from his. She stared up at him, her eyes trusting. The air around them stilled with desire. His lungs seemed incapable of keeping up with the demand of oxygen his body needed. His head grew fuzzy and he wanted to lean in to kiss the heck out of her.
Then he heard a twig snap. His head shot up. Hers too.
"Did you hear that?" She asked.
"Yeah, must have been an animal."
"It feels strange though. Almost like someone is watching me. I know this feeling." She looked out into the dense trees, her eyes squinting as she watched for something. "I sound paranoid, don't I? It's just...oh never mind."
"What? I know your famous or have money, I just don't know who you are. Delanie, you can talk to me, tell me why you think we're being watched."
"At home I usually have paparazzi following me. This feels like it does when people watch me. I know it sounds hokey, but I get a lot of people watching every little move I make. I can't even go outside in my own back yard without having my picture taken. That's why I'm here."
She looked miserable. If someone had figured out she was here on the island they sure wouldn't steel a knife, if the knife had been stolen. "It probably was just an animal. Let's go store the axe and then we'll check out the island. If anyone is here, we'll find footprints.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
After Delanie stopped being creeped out from the knife going missing, they had enjoyed the fajitas. He'd checked her finger to make sure she didn't need stitches. Not that he could have done anything other than boat her over to the big island and get her medical attention, but he hadn't seen any need. The cut was minimal. She would need to keep it clean though.
Of course the main islands that was packed with people on vacation and they were probably having major issues. He could only imagine how many people were injured, how many houses damaged and how many trees were down.
Later he'd go over to the island with Delanie. It would give them some time to get to know each other. He raised the axe above his head and swung it down hard.
"Hey, lumberjack man, want some water?"
Delanie was a vision. The sarong wrapped over her bikini molded to her body. "Sure, I'm a bit thirsty."
"Listen, I was wondering if we could comb over the island and check the damage."
"Sure, can you wait until I get this tree chopped down?"
"My pleasure. I'll just sit over here and watch you work."
For a moment he wondered if she was teasing him. When she sat down on a rock in perfect view of his work area his stomach flopped. He would be lying if he said he didn't want to show off for her. The axe was heavy, the work hard. His pride revved up.
Chopping wood was a rather manly activity, something that bolstered a primitive, beastly part of him. He picked up the axe, making sure not to let his ego get so big that he made a mistake.
Trying his best to ignore her, he let the axe fall over and over again. His focus stayed on the wood, making sure he didn't accidently hit his foot. That would suck. Making a mistake like that wouldn't impress anyone, least of all this beautiful woman.
He finished with the tree and sunk the axe into a stump, making sure it would stay secure. "I'm ready."
Delanie frowned, "We need to lock that up."
"I'll put it up before nightfall. And I promise to oil the blade before I store the tool."
She stood and shuffled from one foot to another, "I'm not worried about that."
The missing items had gotten to her. To tell the truth he felt odd about the issue. The underwear missing could easily be explained away, the rope too, but the knife missing was a bit much.
"Let's go lock it in the shed on our way around the island."
"I like you Sam." Delanie's face turned pink, almost like she hadn't meant to talk out loud.
"Delanie, I like you too. I'm not sure what the next few days are going to bring, but I really enjoy spending time with you."
"Good."
They walked back towards the lagoon where the shed stood. The silence was companionable, almost like they had known each other for longer than a few days. A flock of red and yellow birds surprised them, bursting to flight like a shotgun.
"Oh, that was scary." Delanie sounded breathless.
He chuckled then slid his free arm around her. "I would have protected you."
Her face was upturned, only inches from his. She stared up at him, her eyes trusting. The air around them stilled with desire. His lungs seemed incapable of keeping up with the demand of oxygen his body needed. His head grew fuzzy and he wanted to lean in to kiss the heck out of her.
Then he heard a twig snap. His head shot up. Hers too.
"Did you hear that?" She asked.
"Yeah, must have been an animal."
"It feels strange though. Almost like someone is watching me. I know this feeling." She looked out into the dense trees, her eyes squinting as she watched for something. "I sound paranoid, don't I? It's just...oh never mind."
"What? I know your famous or have money, I just don't know who you are. Delanie, you can talk to me, tell me why you think we're being watched."
"At home I usually have paparazzi following me. This feels like it does when people watch me. I know it sounds hokey, but I get a lot of people watching every little move I make. I can't even go outside in my own back yard without having my picture taken. That's why I'm here."
She looked miserable. If someone had figured out she was here on the island they sure wouldn't steel a knife, if the knife had been stolen. "It probably was just an animal. Let's go store the axe and then we'll check out the island. If anyone is here, we'll find footprints.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
June 13, 2011
Chapter 10: Part 5
Bill crawled out of Amanda's bed. She didn't wake. It was a good thing. Getting involved like he wanted to be involved was bad, very bad. He couldn't stay objective if he wanted to sleep with her.
Plus, even though his wife was out boinking guys fresh out of college, he wouldn't play that game. Wanting Amanda and having Amanda were two very different things.
He needed to focus so thoroughly on the person who abducted Amanda that desire didn't even enter the picture. Hell, who was he kidding? Amanda was desire. He doubted he could spend more than two minutes in her presence and not find something to like.
His phone chirped. Bill answered without looking to see who had called.
"Agent Rowland, this is officer Louis Betrand of the Nassau Police Force. I would like to talk to you when you have a chance."
Damn, he'd meant to go by the station but had been busy. Now he'd probably screwed any chance he had of working nicely with them. "I could come to the station right now."
"No, this isn't urgent, just something we need to discuss."
"I don't mind coming by now. I meant to go by there yesterday, but some things..."
"I understand. Since you are here unofficially. I guess you could say that you are just a friend of the victim. But still, there are a few reports that need attention."
Bill's stomach dropped. This Betrand guy might be a total dick about the entire thing. "Reports?"
"Yes, people see things. One is about a guy on a boat that matches the basic description you faxed over."
"Oh, you want me to look at some reports?"
"Of course, what else would it be?"
"Hmmm, nothing. So, can you send me the reports?"
"Sure, but I would rather meet with you. Have you had lunch?"
"No, not yet."
"I'll meet you in a twenty minutes in the café on the south-east side of the hospital. It's called JJ's."
"Great, see you then." Bill wanted to leave a note for Amanda but didn't know what he would say. They needed to talk. When they talked he needed her not to be touching him. If they spent any time together then he would combust with desire. Not something the FBI would approve of.
It had to be the stress of Shana leaving him. Last night he'd barely slept, and when he had, dreams of Shana with other men tortured him.
Amanda was a diversion, nothing serious, and it would be wrong to use her. She'd been used enough. If he forced the issue and went after her, then she would be hurt. And he liked her too much to hurt the girl.
Really, having her show up in his life right now was beyond ironic. Secretly he'd had a crush on Amanda since she hit the stage eight years ago. But crushes were immature, so he ignored the desire. Instead he focused on his love for music.
He stared at her for a good five minutes, wondering how different his life would have been if he could have met Amanda under different circumstances. His family money would have paid for her time, but that was a bit too psycho.
Shana had come into his life, and he'd really loved her. Before she found out about his money they'd been happy. When he thought about those days it made him sad. Now their life was crap compared to how wonderful it had been before money became such a huge issue.
Bill grabbed his briefcase and headed out the door. He'd come back to her later. After meeting with Louis and finding out what the hell could be done with this case, then they would talk.
The streets around the hospital weren't bad. Most of the storm debris had been cleared from the area. A blue tarp covered the roof of a small bakery. He imagined that the owners weren't happy about the mess inside, but it looked like they were still able to sell their wares, something invaluable at times like this. He found JJ's to be crowded. That the place was operating also a Godsend for many.
Bill was glad that his family had a cash habit. It looked as though cash ruled in the post storm economy. The area was packed, and a group of American looking kids stood off to the side. As he neared their voices confirmed their citizenship. Most likely, they were high school grads on vacation. The glassy eyed look didn't bode well for them. They were probably starving. None of them were in line to order. Most likely had no cash.
Bill stopped close enough to hear them. It didn't sound good. They were hungry. One of them was going to try to steel some food. The others were trying to talk him out of it. What they didn't know was that the owner would probably pull out a shotgun. They'd be dead or at least injured.
It would be negligent to leave them at their own devices. He approached one of the girls, a blond in a bathing suit with a worried frown, speaking directly to her. "Excuse me, are you from the United States?"
She shot him a worried look, the other teens turned to him, the guys puffing out their chest like they knew what they were doing.
"Yeah, what you want to make of it?" The dark headed male spoke up, pushing the blond girl behind him.
Bill decided to play his cards. He needed the shock value of the FBI behind him now. "I couldn't help but overhear your plan to do a little smash and grab with the food."
One of the girls scoffed. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Bill flipped open his creds and let them get a good look. Their faces turned pale and they began to back away. He grabbed onto the lead guy's arm. "It's cash only when the storms hit. Do you have access to any?"
The blonde stepped forward. "We only brought credit cards. Our families said they would pay the bills when we got back. We've been doing good. Our hotel is cheep and we've been eating at McDonalds, but the storm blew the roof off. It's closed. We didn't know what to do and were so hungry."
"All of you are strong, let me suggest you ask for employment. People need their yards cleaned out, they will pay with food, but be careful and don't stray into the bad neighborhoods. When is your flight out?"
"Two days." One of the guys popped off.
"Here," he handed the blond two hundred dollars. "Get in line. After you eat do a few odd jobs."
She pushed half the money back at him. "This is too much."
"You'll need the extra Cash. Prices can skyrocket after a storm, and a meal for the four of you could cost hundreds."
Tears ran down her face. "Thank you, I don't know what we would have done."
"Go, get in line and eat a big meal. It might be a while before you get another one. Be smart, don't even think about stealing anything. These guys have guns. You all would have been dead before you hit the street."
They all gave their thanks then filed into the line. He waited for Louis, wondering how the police were going to handle the crazies after the storm and what about this abduction case. He knew the answer, the loudest screamer would get the attention paid to it, and Amanda's case wasn't screaming right now.
He looked at the crowd, seeing the lost, the angry, the upset all wanting attention. These people were here because they probably couldn't find food anywhere else. They were upset residents and vacationers who needed the police to reassure them that the world would return to normal.
Bill's phone chirped, he looked at the caller id, it was Louis. "Let me guess, you can't make it."
"You're right. I can't make it. We've had some looting and a shooting. It's crazy."
"I need that information."
"I'll put it in an email when I get a few minutes today."
"Louis, this guy is still out there even with the Hurricane damage. He'll take another woman. Please get me that information."
"I will. If you don't have it by three call and pester me again."
"Fine, three."
Bill got in line for food, realizing that he hadn't eaten enough in the last few days. The problems with Shana, the Amanda case, and his boss had all driven him crazy.
When he got to the front of the line he saw a haggard looking man taking money, and a two people serving up three different dishes. You could eat chicken, beef or fried rice. Everyone got vegetables. "Are you JJ?"
The man's lip twitched into a tired smile. "Yep, wish I were anyone else today."
"You about out of food?"
"Heck no. Got a deep freeze on a generator. I'm good for another five days. Just exhausted. You would think there were no other restaurants open on the island."
"McDonald's is closed."
"Oh, well that would do it. We'll be here, rain or shine."
Bill turned and looked at all the people packing the restaurant. This guy had to be raking in the dough. "How much for the meal?"
"Five even, cash only."
Bill stepped back. "Wow, I'm surprised."
"JJ's is honest prices. Couldn't take advantage of all these people."
"Plenty who are."
"That's why we're packed."
Bill got the chicken and veggies, and sat down on the opposite side of the room from the teens. The food was good and he was glad he'd come over for a bite. Definitely much better than what he would have found from a vending machine.
On his way back over to the hospital he picked up two bottles of Coke Zero and water from a street vendor. Before paying he made sure that the lids were sealed. If he couldn't find anything else at least he would have water and one of his main vices, Coke Zero.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
Plus, even though his wife was out boinking guys fresh out of college, he wouldn't play that game. Wanting Amanda and having Amanda were two very different things.
He needed to focus so thoroughly on the person who abducted Amanda that desire didn't even enter the picture. Hell, who was he kidding? Amanda was desire. He doubted he could spend more than two minutes in her presence and not find something to like.
His phone chirped. Bill answered without looking to see who had called.
"Agent Rowland, this is officer Louis Betrand of the Nassau Police Force. I would like to talk to you when you have a chance."
Damn, he'd meant to go by the station but had been busy. Now he'd probably screwed any chance he had of working nicely with them. "I could come to the station right now."
"No, this isn't urgent, just something we need to discuss."
"I don't mind coming by now. I meant to go by there yesterday, but some things..."
"I understand. Since you are here unofficially. I guess you could say that you are just a friend of the victim. But still, there are a few reports that need attention."
Bill's stomach dropped. This Betrand guy might be a total dick about the entire thing. "Reports?"
"Yes, people see things. One is about a guy on a boat that matches the basic description you faxed over."
"Oh, you want me to look at some reports?"
"Of course, what else would it be?"
"Hmmm, nothing. So, can you send me the reports?"
"Sure, but I would rather meet with you. Have you had lunch?"
"No, not yet."
"I'll meet you in a twenty minutes in the café on the south-east side of the hospital. It's called JJ's."
"Great, see you then." Bill wanted to leave a note for Amanda but didn't know what he would say. They needed to talk. When they talked he needed her not to be touching him. If they spent any time together then he would combust with desire. Not something the FBI would approve of.
It had to be the stress of Shana leaving him. Last night he'd barely slept, and when he had, dreams of Shana with other men tortured him.
Amanda was a diversion, nothing serious, and it would be wrong to use her. She'd been used enough. If he forced the issue and went after her, then she would be hurt. And he liked her too much to hurt the girl.
Really, having her show up in his life right now was beyond ironic. Secretly he'd had a crush on Amanda since she hit the stage eight years ago. But crushes were immature, so he ignored the desire. Instead he focused on his love for music.
He stared at her for a good five minutes, wondering how different his life would have been if he could have met Amanda under different circumstances. His family money would have paid for her time, but that was a bit too psycho.
Shana had come into his life, and he'd really loved her. Before she found out about his money they'd been happy. When he thought about those days it made him sad. Now their life was crap compared to how wonderful it had been before money became such a huge issue.
Bill grabbed his briefcase and headed out the door. He'd come back to her later. After meeting with Louis and finding out what the hell could be done with this case, then they would talk.
The streets around the hospital weren't bad. Most of the storm debris had been cleared from the area. A blue tarp covered the roof of a small bakery. He imagined that the owners weren't happy about the mess inside, but it looked like they were still able to sell their wares, something invaluable at times like this. He found JJ's to be crowded. That the place was operating also a Godsend for many.
Bill was glad that his family had a cash habit. It looked as though cash ruled in the post storm economy. The area was packed, and a group of American looking kids stood off to the side. As he neared their voices confirmed their citizenship. Most likely, they were high school grads on vacation. The glassy eyed look didn't bode well for them. They were probably starving. None of them were in line to order. Most likely had no cash.
Bill stopped close enough to hear them. It didn't sound good. They were hungry. One of them was going to try to steel some food. The others were trying to talk him out of it. What they didn't know was that the owner would probably pull out a shotgun. They'd be dead or at least injured.
It would be negligent to leave them at their own devices. He approached one of the girls, a blond in a bathing suit with a worried frown, speaking directly to her. "Excuse me, are you from the United States?"
She shot him a worried look, the other teens turned to him, the guys puffing out their chest like they knew what they were doing.
"Yeah, what you want to make of it?" The dark headed male spoke up, pushing the blond girl behind him.
Bill decided to play his cards. He needed the shock value of the FBI behind him now. "I couldn't help but overhear your plan to do a little smash and grab with the food."
One of the girls scoffed. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Bill flipped open his creds and let them get a good look. Their faces turned pale and they began to back away. He grabbed onto the lead guy's arm. "It's cash only when the storms hit. Do you have access to any?"
The blonde stepped forward. "We only brought credit cards. Our families said they would pay the bills when we got back. We've been doing good. Our hotel is cheep and we've been eating at McDonalds, but the storm blew the roof off. It's closed. We didn't know what to do and were so hungry."
"All of you are strong, let me suggest you ask for employment. People need their yards cleaned out, they will pay with food, but be careful and don't stray into the bad neighborhoods. When is your flight out?"
"Two days." One of the guys popped off.
"Here," he handed the blond two hundred dollars. "Get in line. After you eat do a few odd jobs."
She pushed half the money back at him. "This is too much."
"You'll need the extra Cash. Prices can skyrocket after a storm, and a meal for the four of you could cost hundreds."
Tears ran down her face. "Thank you, I don't know what we would have done."
"Go, get in line and eat a big meal. It might be a while before you get another one. Be smart, don't even think about stealing anything. These guys have guns. You all would have been dead before you hit the street."
They all gave their thanks then filed into the line. He waited for Louis, wondering how the police were going to handle the crazies after the storm and what about this abduction case. He knew the answer, the loudest screamer would get the attention paid to it, and Amanda's case wasn't screaming right now.
He looked at the crowd, seeing the lost, the angry, the upset all wanting attention. These people were here because they probably couldn't find food anywhere else. They were upset residents and vacationers who needed the police to reassure them that the world would return to normal.
Bill's phone chirped, he looked at the caller id, it was Louis. "Let me guess, you can't make it."
"You're right. I can't make it. We've had some looting and a shooting. It's crazy."
"I need that information."
"I'll put it in an email when I get a few minutes today."
"Louis, this guy is still out there even with the Hurricane damage. He'll take another woman. Please get me that information."
"I will. If you don't have it by three call and pester me again."
"Fine, three."
Bill got in line for food, realizing that he hadn't eaten enough in the last few days. The problems with Shana, the Amanda case, and his boss had all driven him crazy.
When he got to the front of the line he saw a haggard looking man taking money, and a two people serving up three different dishes. You could eat chicken, beef or fried rice. Everyone got vegetables. "Are you JJ?"
The man's lip twitched into a tired smile. "Yep, wish I were anyone else today."
"You about out of food?"
"Heck no. Got a deep freeze on a generator. I'm good for another five days. Just exhausted. You would think there were no other restaurants open on the island."
"McDonald's is closed."
"Oh, well that would do it. We'll be here, rain or shine."
Bill turned and looked at all the people packing the restaurant. This guy had to be raking in the dough. "How much for the meal?"
"Five even, cash only."
Bill stepped back. "Wow, I'm surprised."
"JJ's is honest prices. Couldn't take advantage of all these people."
"Plenty who are."
"That's why we're packed."
Bill got the chicken and veggies, and sat down on the opposite side of the room from the teens. The food was good and he was glad he'd come over for a bite. Definitely much better than what he would have found from a vending machine.
On his way back over to the hospital he picked up two bottles of Coke Zero and water from a street vendor. Before paying he made sure that the lids were sealed. If he couldn't find anything else at least he would have water and one of his main vices, Coke Zero.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
June 12, 2011
Chapter 10: Part 4
Delanie smoothed cool lotion onto her legs, wondering what Sam was doing. Her mind wondered to events and places she had no business thinking about. Marriage, or even living with the man, was totally out of the question. The breakup with Rhye was too fresh. Plus, there wasn't room in her life for another guy. But could this guy, this stranger, be worth the risk?
She groaned, disgusted with her musings. He would be gone soon. His boat had sustained a little damage. Nothing that he couldn't fix, but the damage would keep him on the island for another night.
"Ugh, can't think about that." Delanie rubbed her arms, smoothing in the last of the lotion. Tonight would be different. There would be no need for him to stay in the same room where she slept.
Her heart lurched, already missing the comfort of his touch. Sleeping with Rhye hadn't been comfortable. They'd only spend the one night together, during which they didn't have sex. But that wasn't the issue. Rhye tossed and turned worse than anyone she'd ever known. He woke up frequently, asking her questions, talking about his dreams. It had been a stressful event. She vowed never to do that again. Probably her fault for breaking up, but she couldn't help it. Sleep was important when only your looks kept you on top.
Sam had been totally different. He hadn't woken her with his snoring, nor had he moved much. Of course telling him that she liked sleeping with him would sound wrong.
She opened her underwear drawer, searching for the white thong. There was only one outfit she would dare to wear it with, and she intended on wearing it tonight. After rifling through her drawer unsuccessfully, she decided to look through the laundry room. Out the window she saw Sam coming up from the beach. He looked magnificent with his tanned torso and crazy wild hair.
Her feet kept moving but her eyes stayed stuck on Sam. Pain erupted in her hand when she struck the doorframe, lucky for her she was able to ducked into the laundry room, avoiding a head on collision with the door.
"Ow, ow, ow." She grabbed her injured hand, inspecting for any critical injury. Nothing more than a small bruise, but her pride had been pricked. Mortification filled her. Why had she been ogling the man?
She sifted through her clothes, still not finding her underwear. Maybe she'd forgotten the thing back home. Its not like she would have cared to dress up, but still, it was strange that she couldn't find her underwear.
Delanie went back to her room and changed into black slacks and a white shirt. The other outfit would have to wait until she was home.
Sam called to her as she walked from her room. "Just back here changing. I'll be there in a bit."
"Sure, no rush." She smiled, they were rather domesticated together.
Tonight they would have fajitas, a treat she rarely ate. She pulled out a cutting board and went to search for the butcher knife. After looking through three drawers she stopped and leaned against the counter top, surveying the kitchen. Could she have left the knife in the dishwasher? With two quick steps she moved over to the stainless appliance and pulled open the door.
No knife.
Where could she have left the thing? And was she sure she had one here. Maybe she was thinking about home.
Her mind rolled through the last few days, thinking about the food she'd prepared. No, the knife had been here. No way had she cut through the mangos, and pineapples with out the sharp blade.
Could she have moved it to another room? Surely she wouldn't take the knife to her bedroom or bathroom by mistake. There were things she misplaced, but not a butcher knife.
Sam stepped around the corner as she turned down the hall to her bedroom. He reached out to steady her. "Sorry, you okay?"
"Yeah, the butcher knife. You didn't take it down to your sailboat today?"
"Nope, have my own one there. Why?"
"It's missing. You didn't use it last night for anything?"
He shook his head, brow furrowed. "Maybe you put it in a different cabinet. I do that all the time."
Annoyance shot through her. How could she have misplaced knife? "I've looked in all of them. I don't know where it is."
"Let's look again."
Sam opened every single drawer while she just watched. "Hmmm, I see the place for it, the little wooden knife holder thingy is empty, but you're right. It's gone."
"I just used it yesterday or the day before."
"I believe you. How about we get dinner started. Maybe it'll show up."
Delanie pulled the meat from the fridge and plopped it down on the counter. She looked back over her shoulder at Sam. How well did she know the guy? He'd behaved himself twice in her house, well that is until now. Her thong and now the knife, missing.
She pulled a steak knife out of the drawer and started slicing through the meat. It was harder to cut through with the small knife. Sam worked on the vegetables on the other side of the kitchen. Every few minutes she felt compelled to look over her shoulder and check. For what she didn't know.
If he had stolen the knife and her thong, would she see an attack coming? Maybe she should confront him. Would that set him off? Was there anything to be set off about?
"I'm done."
Sam's proclamation startled her. The knife slid forward and nicked her finger. "Ouch." It was automatic, her finger flew towards her mouth. Sam's hand shot out of nowhere, clamping down on her wrist before she could put the injured finger against her mouth.
"No," he barked. "You'll spread germs. Here let me see."
He led her to the sink and ran clear, cool water on her hand. Then he reached for the soap and lathered up his hands.
She jumped back when the stinging soap hit the cut. "Ouch, that hurt."
"I know, but it will clean off any bacteria."
"I can't believe I cut myself."
"It happens."
"Not to me. I'm careful with sharp knifes. Are you comfortable around knifes?" Oh damn, why had she asked that. What if he were a mass murder, and now she'd set him off?
"Never touched anything in the kitchen until I moved onto my boat. I'm not scared of them, but comfortable, I guess so."
What the hell did his answer mean? Maybe she should just come out and ask if he took her thong.
"There we go. Where are your band-aids?"
"Next to the oven in the upper cabinet. Right side. There's a first aid kit."
Sam moved to the other side of the kitchen. She watched as he opened the cabinet on the right then moved to the left. "I'm sorry, but I'm not seeing anything."
"What?"
"No first aid kit."
She'd had it. First her underwear, then the knife, and now the first aid kit. "What kind of game are you playing?"
"Game, I'm just trying to help you get a band-aid."
"Stuff just doesn't just up and walk away. The knife, the first aid kit and my underwear."
"Your underwear?"
"Don't play stupid."
"Delanie, I'm not playing anything. I don't know what you are talking about."
"You took the knife."
Sam stepped back and threw up his hands like she held a gun on him. If he were the knife thief, she would need a gun.
"I didn't take the knife Delanie. On my sailboat, I have two sets for filleting fish, both of them probably better than anything available in this kitchen."
"You didn't take my thong?"
"Thong?" He shook his head and cleared his throat. Red crept up his neck. "I may be attracted to you but stealing women's underwear isn't my thing."
She slid to the floor, her bloody finger wrapped in a paper towel. "I don't know what to believe. If I knew you better...but I don't."
"Shhh, I'm not stealing knifes, underwear or first aid kits. I wasn't going to say anything, and maybe I shouldn't now, but a few things are missing off my sailboat."
"What?"
"Some rope."
She wanted to cry. "This doesn't sound good."
"The rope could have been tossed overboard during the storm. I thought I had everything secured, but who knows."
"I hate this feeling."
"Me too. How about I finish cooking dinner then later I'll motor back out to my sailboat and get a band aid."
"No need, I think I have one in my suitcase."
"Let me go look."
"In the hall closet. The yellow case." She waited patiently, holding her finger over the sink and letting the blood drip in the drain. She should have already stopped bleeding if the cut were shallow. If she washed off the cut again she'd be able to see how bad it was, but part of her didn't want to know.
Sam dropped one of the bags on the floor. The slip of the zipper could be heard in the kitchen. Then his footsteps followed. Two seconds later he was in the kitchen, triumph shown in his eyes.
"I have a bandage. Let me see your hand."
"Is it bad?"
"No, just need something to keep it clean. Better let me cut the meat."
Delanie didn't answer. Sam turned her to face him, his eyes bore into hers. Could she trust him? What if he was a psycho killer?
"I'm only going to cut the mean. I swear I didn't take that other knife."
"I didn't say you did."
"You didn't have to." Sam dropped her hand went to work on the chicken. The muscles in his back were tight, his knife work quick.
There had to be something she could say, but she didn't know what. She trusted few people, Sam was no exception.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
She groaned, disgusted with her musings. He would be gone soon. His boat had sustained a little damage. Nothing that he couldn't fix, but the damage would keep him on the island for another night.
"Ugh, can't think about that." Delanie rubbed her arms, smoothing in the last of the lotion. Tonight would be different. There would be no need for him to stay in the same room where she slept.
Her heart lurched, already missing the comfort of his touch. Sleeping with Rhye hadn't been comfortable. They'd only spend the one night together, during which they didn't have sex. But that wasn't the issue. Rhye tossed and turned worse than anyone she'd ever known. He woke up frequently, asking her questions, talking about his dreams. It had been a stressful event. She vowed never to do that again. Probably her fault for breaking up, but she couldn't help it. Sleep was important when only your looks kept you on top.
Sam had been totally different. He hadn't woken her with his snoring, nor had he moved much. Of course telling him that she liked sleeping with him would sound wrong.
She opened her underwear drawer, searching for the white thong. There was only one outfit she would dare to wear it with, and she intended on wearing it tonight. After rifling through her drawer unsuccessfully, she decided to look through the laundry room. Out the window she saw Sam coming up from the beach. He looked magnificent with his tanned torso and crazy wild hair.
Her feet kept moving but her eyes stayed stuck on Sam. Pain erupted in her hand when she struck the doorframe, lucky for her she was able to ducked into the laundry room, avoiding a head on collision with the door.
"Ow, ow, ow." She grabbed her injured hand, inspecting for any critical injury. Nothing more than a small bruise, but her pride had been pricked. Mortification filled her. Why had she been ogling the man?
She sifted through her clothes, still not finding her underwear. Maybe she'd forgotten the thing back home. Its not like she would have cared to dress up, but still, it was strange that she couldn't find her underwear.
Delanie went back to her room and changed into black slacks and a white shirt. The other outfit would have to wait until she was home.
Sam called to her as she walked from her room. "Just back here changing. I'll be there in a bit."
"Sure, no rush." She smiled, they were rather domesticated together.
Tonight they would have fajitas, a treat she rarely ate. She pulled out a cutting board and went to search for the butcher knife. After looking through three drawers she stopped and leaned against the counter top, surveying the kitchen. Could she have left the knife in the dishwasher? With two quick steps she moved over to the stainless appliance and pulled open the door.
No knife.
Where could she have left the thing? And was she sure she had one here. Maybe she was thinking about home.
Her mind rolled through the last few days, thinking about the food she'd prepared. No, the knife had been here. No way had she cut through the mangos, and pineapples with out the sharp blade.
Could she have moved it to another room? Surely she wouldn't take the knife to her bedroom or bathroom by mistake. There were things she misplaced, but not a butcher knife.
Sam stepped around the corner as she turned down the hall to her bedroom. He reached out to steady her. "Sorry, you okay?"
"Yeah, the butcher knife. You didn't take it down to your sailboat today?"
"Nope, have my own one there. Why?"
"It's missing. You didn't use it last night for anything?"
He shook his head, brow furrowed. "Maybe you put it in a different cabinet. I do that all the time."
Annoyance shot through her. How could she have misplaced knife? "I've looked in all of them. I don't know where it is."
"Let's look again."
Sam opened every single drawer while she just watched. "Hmmm, I see the place for it, the little wooden knife holder thingy is empty, but you're right. It's gone."
"I just used it yesterday or the day before."
"I believe you. How about we get dinner started. Maybe it'll show up."
Delanie pulled the meat from the fridge and plopped it down on the counter. She looked back over her shoulder at Sam. How well did she know the guy? He'd behaved himself twice in her house, well that is until now. Her thong and now the knife, missing.
She pulled a steak knife out of the drawer and started slicing through the meat. It was harder to cut through with the small knife. Sam worked on the vegetables on the other side of the kitchen. Every few minutes she felt compelled to look over her shoulder and check. For what she didn't know.
If he had stolen the knife and her thong, would she see an attack coming? Maybe she should confront him. Would that set him off? Was there anything to be set off about?
"I'm done."
Sam's proclamation startled her. The knife slid forward and nicked her finger. "Ouch." It was automatic, her finger flew towards her mouth. Sam's hand shot out of nowhere, clamping down on her wrist before she could put the injured finger against her mouth.
"No," he barked. "You'll spread germs. Here let me see."
He led her to the sink and ran clear, cool water on her hand. Then he reached for the soap and lathered up his hands.
She jumped back when the stinging soap hit the cut. "Ouch, that hurt."
"I know, but it will clean off any bacteria."
"I can't believe I cut myself."
"It happens."
"Not to me. I'm careful with sharp knifes. Are you comfortable around knifes?" Oh damn, why had she asked that. What if he were a mass murder, and now she'd set him off?
"Never touched anything in the kitchen until I moved onto my boat. I'm not scared of them, but comfortable, I guess so."
What the hell did his answer mean? Maybe she should just come out and ask if he took her thong.
"There we go. Where are your band-aids?"
"Next to the oven in the upper cabinet. Right side. There's a first aid kit."
Sam moved to the other side of the kitchen. She watched as he opened the cabinet on the right then moved to the left. "I'm sorry, but I'm not seeing anything."
"What?"
"No first aid kit."
She'd had it. First her underwear, then the knife, and now the first aid kit. "What kind of game are you playing?"
"Game, I'm just trying to help you get a band-aid."
"Stuff just doesn't just up and walk away. The knife, the first aid kit and my underwear."
"Your underwear?"
"Don't play stupid."
"Delanie, I'm not playing anything. I don't know what you are talking about."
"You took the knife."
Sam stepped back and threw up his hands like she held a gun on him. If he were the knife thief, she would need a gun.
"I didn't take the knife Delanie. On my sailboat, I have two sets for filleting fish, both of them probably better than anything available in this kitchen."
"You didn't take my thong?"
"Thong?" He shook his head and cleared his throat. Red crept up his neck. "I may be attracted to you but stealing women's underwear isn't my thing."
She slid to the floor, her bloody finger wrapped in a paper towel. "I don't know what to believe. If I knew you better...but I don't."
"Shhh, I'm not stealing knifes, underwear or first aid kits. I wasn't going to say anything, and maybe I shouldn't now, but a few things are missing off my sailboat."
"What?"
"Some rope."
She wanted to cry. "This doesn't sound good."
"The rope could have been tossed overboard during the storm. I thought I had everything secured, but who knows."
"I hate this feeling."
"Me too. How about I finish cooking dinner then later I'll motor back out to my sailboat and get a band aid."
"No need, I think I have one in my suitcase."
"Let me go look."
"In the hall closet. The yellow case." She waited patiently, holding her finger over the sink and letting the blood drip in the drain. She should have already stopped bleeding if the cut were shallow. If she washed off the cut again she'd be able to see how bad it was, but part of her didn't want to know.
Sam dropped one of the bags on the floor. The slip of the zipper could be heard in the kitchen. Then his footsteps followed. Two seconds later he was in the kitchen, triumph shown in his eyes.
"I have a bandage. Let me see your hand."
"Is it bad?"
"No, just need something to keep it clean. Better let me cut the meat."
Delanie didn't answer. Sam turned her to face him, his eyes bore into hers. Could she trust him? What if he was a psycho killer?
"I'm only going to cut the mean. I swear I didn't take that other knife."
"I didn't say you did."
"You didn't have to." Sam dropped her hand went to work on the chicken. The muscles in his back were tight, his knife work quick.
There had to be something she could say, but she didn't know what. She trusted few people, Sam was no exception.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
June 11, 2011
Chapter 10: Part 3
Sam woke to the sun streaming in on he and Delanie for the second time in a week. How the hell had he gotten to this point? Two nights in bed with a beautiful woman with nothing happening. It was a record for him.
He rolled to sitting, ignoring the stiffy up front. If Delanie woke up and saw him now she would probably toss him out. Hell, he probably deserved being tossed out with the way his thoughts bent.
After the storm had stopped, he had gone around and opened a few of the shutters so they could get a good cross breeze. The cool night air had caressed his skin, leaving him feeling needy. Now was not the time to stake a claim to relieve his need.
Delanie had trust issues. They had talked about them last night. She'd never said what she did, but he got the feeling that she was rather famous. If he climbed up on her, kissed her awake and started making love to her, she would probably freak out.
He made his way to the shower and tossed off his clothes. He turned the water to cold and stepped in. The biting cold water stung his skin. He scrubbed at his hair, loving the feeling of taking yet another shower this week. Usually he dipped into the ocean to keep clean. The luxury of fresh water and soap almost made him forget he was on an island and clean water really was a luxury. He turned off the water as he lathered up, only letting the water run when he needed to wash off.
He turned the knob, shutting off the shower. Water dripped off his body, echoing in the small enclosure. Maybe Delanie would still be his friend after he left the island. Would he be able to give up the sailboat and reenter society for her? He couldn't go back to what he'd been doing before.
His team didn't need him, or want him, and hell, he had to change. Going back to the same office with the same people would set him back. Never again did he want to be the kind of ass-hole who took advantage of people on a regular basis.
He pushed open the shower door to find Delanie. She squeaked out a scream and whipped around. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were in here."
He grabbed a towel from the rack and tried pulling it around his waist. It took him three tries before he got the thing secure. By that time his face was hot with embarrassment. No way could he ever fully apologize. "Dang, I'm sorry. I woke early and...I guess I wasn't being loud enough."
"It's ok. I should have–"
"No, I lost track of time." He looked down to see that his chest was dry, only his hair remained damp. "I needed some time to think. I guess I've been in her for about a half hour or more."
"Really?"
He yanked another towel from the rack and ran it over his hair. "Lot's to think about."
"Like what?" Delanie started to turn around but stopped. "Are you covered?"
"Yeah, I've got a towel."
She slid a glance before turning fully to face him. He was impressed, her eyes stayed on his face, never once dipping to check out his chest or abs. He knew he wouldn't be that disciplined. If she were standing there in a towel, he would be looking at every inch of her that he could.
"So what were you thinking about?" Delanie asked.
"Last night. Our talk. It was good. I haven't been honest like that in a while."
"Honest?"
"I haven't lied to you." He held her gaze, hoping that he made his point. She already had enough issues. She didn't need to worry about him lying. "It's not that I've been dishonest with you. I just don't like to share. Sharing is scary."
"Tell me about it."
"Listen, do you think I could get my clothes and we could talk about this later?"
Her eyes dipped to his chest, red colored her cheeks. She looked away then back once more. "I'm sorry, I forgot."
"Sure, make me feel good."
"It's not–Hell, there's nothing I could say that would come out right."
"No, there isn't."
She stepped out of the bathroom and looked back over her shoulder. "You do have nice abs though."
Now it was his turn to feel the heat rush up his chest to his neck. She shut the door, giving him some privacy. He'd heard the comments on his body before, but this time the words meant more.
The good feeling spread, giving him a boost of energy. Who cared what his board said, for Delanie he would change everything.
Of course telling her how he felt would scare her away. He saw that look of distrust in her eyes more often than not. Only when distracted did she relax. Maybe they could just hang out for a while. He wouldn't push for any obligation on her part.
Eventually he would have to go check out his sailboat. That would remind her that he was going to leave. And any reminder could push her over the edge and then she would ask him to leave. Ugh, it was too much.
But what if Delanie didn't want him sticking around. What if she asked him to leave today? She had every right to ask, but he hopped that she wouldn't.
"Hey, you still in there?" Delanie knocked on the door.
"Sorry, just finishing up." He pulled open the door, surprised to find her only inches from him. If he were a true gentleman he would step back and give her some room, but that was the last thing on his mind. Pulling her into his arms was what he wanted to do. Then he could fill the time with things like running his fingers through her hair. Tasting the curve of her neck. Seeing if she would mould perfectly to his body.
She was striking. He couldn't imagine never seeing her again. Hope for a future that included her ate away at him. Should he say something to her?
The undercurrent of sex flowed between them. Her tongue flicked across her lips and she leaned in. His breathing grew shallow as he searched her face for some indication that she wanted him to stop.
He was about to reach out and slid his finger down her arm when she cleared her throat and stepped back.
"How about some breakfast?"
The tension in the room deflated. His shoulders sagged, knowing that the perfect opportunity had just passed them by.
"I am kind of hungry. I'll help."
He followed her to the kitchen and couldn't help but smirk as she pulled a frying pan out from the cabinet.
"What's so funny?"
"It would sound bad."
"Spill it."
"I've never shared breakfast with any of the women I've dated. I find it funny that I've not even kissed you, and here we are like two domesticated homebodies making breakfast."
"Hmmm, that doesn't sound so bad. No one's a saint."
He opened the fridge and found some bacon. "Not proud of my past, but I'm trying to change."
She handed him the frying pan. "How long have you been on that sailboat?"
"Two years."
"Any women in that time?"
"No."
Delanie leaned against the counter beside him. Her gaze connected with his and held. "Sounds like you have changed."
He stared at her for a few beats, wondering what she would think if she could hear his thoughts right now. He watched her pupils dilate, her chest raise slowly up and down. She felt it. Primal urges were pulsing through her body too.
The moment passed without either of them making a move. She crossed the kitchen to the fridge and began pulling out fruit and bread. "We can eat out on the patio."
"Sure, sounds great." He threw a few strips of bacon into the hot pan. They sizzled and cracked, breaking the silence that had descended in the kitchen. Somehow, before he left this island, he needed to tell her how he felt.
Not that he wanted to force a commitment out of her, but he wanted her to know he was interested. It might not change anything. The protective shell she had up around her heart was evident, but maybe he could break through and make a difference.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
He rolled to sitting, ignoring the stiffy up front. If Delanie woke up and saw him now she would probably toss him out. Hell, he probably deserved being tossed out with the way his thoughts bent.
After the storm had stopped, he had gone around and opened a few of the shutters so they could get a good cross breeze. The cool night air had caressed his skin, leaving him feeling needy. Now was not the time to stake a claim to relieve his need.
Delanie had trust issues. They had talked about them last night. She'd never said what she did, but he got the feeling that she was rather famous. If he climbed up on her, kissed her awake and started making love to her, she would probably freak out.
He made his way to the shower and tossed off his clothes. He turned the water to cold and stepped in. The biting cold water stung his skin. He scrubbed at his hair, loving the feeling of taking yet another shower this week. Usually he dipped into the ocean to keep clean. The luxury of fresh water and soap almost made him forget he was on an island and clean water really was a luxury. He turned off the water as he lathered up, only letting the water run when he needed to wash off.
He turned the knob, shutting off the shower. Water dripped off his body, echoing in the small enclosure. Maybe Delanie would still be his friend after he left the island. Would he be able to give up the sailboat and reenter society for her? He couldn't go back to what he'd been doing before.
His team didn't need him, or want him, and hell, he had to change. Going back to the same office with the same people would set him back. Never again did he want to be the kind of ass-hole who took advantage of people on a regular basis.
He pushed open the shower door to find Delanie. She squeaked out a scream and whipped around. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were in here."
He grabbed a towel from the rack and tried pulling it around his waist. It took him three tries before he got the thing secure. By that time his face was hot with embarrassment. No way could he ever fully apologize. "Dang, I'm sorry. I woke early and...I guess I wasn't being loud enough."
"It's ok. I should have–"
"No, I lost track of time." He looked down to see that his chest was dry, only his hair remained damp. "I needed some time to think. I guess I've been in her for about a half hour or more."
"Really?"
He yanked another towel from the rack and ran it over his hair. "Lot's to think about."
"Like what?" Delanie started to turn around but stopped. "Are you covered?"
"Yeah, I've got a towel."
She slid a glance before turning fully to face him. He was impressed, her eyes stayed on his face, never once dipping to check out his chest or abs. He knew he wouldn't be that disciplined. If she were standing there in a towel, he would be looking at every inch of her that he could.
"So what were you thinking about?" Delanie asked.
"Last night. Our talk. It was good. I haven't been honest like that in a while."
"Honest?"
"I haven't lied to you." He held her gaze, hoping that he made his point. She already had enough issues. She didn't need to worry about him lying. "It's not that I've been dishonest with you. I just don't like to share. Sharing is scary."
"Tell me about it."
"Listen, do you think I could get my clothes and we could talk about this later?"
Her eyes dipped to his chest, red colored her cheeks. She looked away then back once more. "I'm sorry, I forgot."
"Sure, make me feel good."
"It's not–Hell, there's nothing I could say that would come out right."
"No, there isn't."
She stepped out of the bathroom and looked back over her shoulder. "You do have nice abs though."
Now it was his turn to feel the heat rush up his chest to his neck. She shut the door, giving him some privacy. He'd heard the comments on his body before, but this time the words meant more.
The good feeling spread, giving him a boost of energy. Who cared what his board said, for Delanie he would change everything.
Of course telling her how he felt would scare her away. He saw that look of distrust in her eyes more often than not. Only when distracted did she relax. Maybe they could just hang out for a while. He wouldn't push for any obligation on her part.
Eventually he would have to go check out his sailboat. That would remind her that he was going to leave. And any reminder could push her over the edge and then she would ask him to leave. Ugh, it was too much.
But what if Delanie didn't want him sticking around. What if she asked him to leave today? She had every right to ask, but he hopped that she wouldn't.
"Hey, you still in there?" Delanie knocked on the door.
"Sorry, just finishing up." He pulled open the door, surprised to find her only inches from him. If he were a true gentleman he would step back and give her some room, but that was the last thing on his mind. Pulling her into his arms was what he wanted to do. Then he could fill the time with things like running his fingers through her hair. Tasting the curve of her neck. Seeing if she would mould perfectly to his body.
She was striking. He couldn't imagine never seeing her again. Hope for a future that included her ate away at him. Should he say something to her?
The undercurrent of sex flowed between them. Her tongue flicked across her lips and she leaned in. His breathing grew shallow as he searched her face for some indication that she wanted him to stop.
He was about to reach out and slid his finger down her arm when she cleared her throat and stepped back.
"How about some breakfast?"
The tension in the room deflated. His shoulders sagged, knowing that the perfect opportunity had just passed them by.
"I am kind of hungry. I'll help."
He followed her to the kitchen and couldn't help but smirk as she pulled a frying pan out from the cabinet.
"What's so funny?"
"It would sound bad."
"Spill it."
"I've never shared breakfast with any of the women I've dated. I find it funny that I've not even kissed you, and here we are like two domesticated homebodies making breakfast."
"Hmmm, that doesn't sound so bad. No one's a saint."
He opened the fridge and found some bacon. "Not proud of my past, but I'm trying to change."
She handed him the frying pan. "How long have you been on that sailboat?"
"Two years."
"Any women in that time?"
"No."
Delanie leaned against the counter beside him. Her gaze connected with his and held. "Sounds like you have changed."
He stared at her for a few beats, wondering what she would think if she could hear his thoughts right now. He watched her pupils dilate, her chest raise slowly up and down. She felt it. Primal urges were pulsing through her body too.
The moment passed without either of them making a move. She crossed the kitchen to the fridge and began pulling out fruit and bread. "We can eat out on the patio."
"Sure, sounds great." He threw a few strips of bacon into the hot pan. They sizzled and cracked, breaking the silence that had descended in the kitchen. Somehow, before he left this island, he needed to tell her how he felt.
Not that he wanted to force a commitment out of her, but he wanted her to know he was interested. It might not change anything. The protective shell she had up around her heart was evident, but maybe he could break through and make a difference.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
June 10, 2011
Chapter 10: Part 2
Bill picked his way through the leaves and tree trash littering the city streets. A few roadblocks and traffic jams kept him from checking in on Amanda before lunch.
He had called the One and Only Club, asking about his wife. She had made it through the storm. The club had sustained minimal damage. They were open for business, if he needed a room.
The list of things to do was growing. His lawyer would need to know about Shana's infidelity. Maybe once the lawyers came out in full force she would get a grip and start acting like her old self. Not that a one eighty in her attitude would change his plans, but it might help her to save face. Right now she was acting like total a fool.
The traffic cleared, allowing him to drive close to the speed limit. It took him another five minutes to make it to the hospital. From the outside, the place looked secure. He had talked to the police and found out that the winds had reached hurricane strength. The storm was now being defined as such as it barreled towards Florida.
The states had a few hours warning, but not enough to evacuate all the people who needed to head north or inland. The storm would prevent his return home. He could make up something to stay on island for longer. Hopefully Amanda would have something for him today.
He felt sorry for the girl. She'd been the most popular jazz rhythm and blues singer for a few years running. Her forays into classical music had made the world realize the depth of her talent. Now she looked and sounded horrible. The fact that her voice was gone would shock everyone. He remembered the first time he had heard her live. The clear, crisp vibrato that was her voice had split the air leaving him breathless.
The crowd at The Gardens had loved her. Three more times he'd gone to seen her perform. It was pure entertainment to listen to her belt out the tunes that made her popular. Shana hadn't understood. She had thought that his infatuation with Amanda had been sexual. Sure, the singer was hot, but she could have looked like a cow with that voice.
Now it looked like the end of an era even though Amanda hadn't even been on the stage long enough to call her career an era. He stopped before entering the hospital. She needed a miracle. Soon the media would hear she'd been rescued and lay in convalescence in this small Bahamian hospital. Surely the cunning reporters would overwhelm the understaffed facility trying to cope with the hurricane injuries. The rent-a-cop he'd employed with his own money wouldn't stand a chance against the manipulative press. The situation would be dangerous.
A conversation with the chief of staff seemed to be in order. Just another thing added to his long list of tasks.
Bill entered Amanda's room, his palms grew damp as anticipation filled him. The sight of her sitting up brought a smile to his lips. The woman truly was amazing.
"Hello, did you sleep last night."
She nodded her head.
"You want anything to eat? Drink? Can I get you anything?" Damn, he was babbling. He was supposed to the calm FBI agent here to help, and he sounded more like a pimple-faced teen unable to contain his excitement at meeting Amanda.
She shook her head and motioned him closer. His reaction was swift.
Sweat. Shaking. Elevated heart rate.
Oh yeah, he had it bad. The idol worship needed to stop. After mentally berating himself he leaned in close, ignoring the delicate curve of her shoulders and the graceful shape of her ear.
Her voice was thin and wispy, unlike her usually strong pipes. "I remember."
"Wonderful, hopefully that sketch artist can come today and we'll get a flyer out with his face. Do you know his name?"
"I doubt he gave me his real name. Something like Dave."
"Why do you think that wasn't his real name?"
"He always laughed or smirked when I said his name. The guy was strange, but his behavior about the name thing was odd."
"I need to hear everything. Everything you remember."
Bill pulled his tape recorder out, ready to turn it on. Amanda's hand landed on his arm, her grip tight.
"I can't have this get out to the press."
"I'll guard the information with my life."
"Bill, they are devious. They have moles. I can't..."
The tears did him in. He crawled up onto her bed and wrapped his arms around her slight frame. She felt fragile so he loosened his arms. She took the opportunity to snuggle up next to him, semi crawling into his lap. His thoughts went wild. He imagined what it would really fell like to be holding her as a lover would.
No doubt about it he was a first class jerk. Amazing, he totally was ready to take her, but only idiot would take advantage of a woman in her situation. He focused his thoughts finding her attacker.
Working this close to Amanda would be difficult, especially with the pain of Shana's betrayal so raw. Acting on his infatuation would be beyond stupid. Amanda needed a police officer to help her, not some hormonal guy ready to claim her.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
He had called the One and Only Club, asking about his wife. She had made it through the storm. The club had sustained minimal damage. They were open for business, if he needed a room.
The list of things to do was growing. His lawyer would need to know about Shana's infidelity. Maybe once the lawyers came out in full force she would get a grip and start acting like her old self. Not that a one eighty in her attitude would change his plans, but it might help her to save face. Right now she was acting like total a fool.
The traffic cleared, allowing him to drive close to the speed limit. It took him another five minutes to make it to the hospital. From the outside, the place looked secure. He had talked to the police and found out that the winds had reached hurricane strength. The storm was now being defined as such as it barreled towards Florida.
The states had a few hours warning, but not enough to evacuate all the people who needed to head north or inland. The storm would prevent his return home. He could make up something to stay on island for longer. Hopefully Amanda would have something for him today.
He felt sorry for the girl. She'd been the most popular jazz rhythm and blues singer for a few years running. Her forays into classical music had made the world realize the depth of her talent. Now she looked and sounded horrible. The fact that her voice was gone would shock everyone. He remembered the first time he had heard her live. The clear, crisp vibrato that was her voice had split the air leaving him breathless.
The crowd at The Gardens had loved her. Three more times he'd gone to seen her perform. It was pure entertainment to listen to her belt out the tunes that made her popular. Shana hadn't understood. She had thought that his infatuation with Amanda had been sexual. Sure, the singer was hot, but she could have looked like a cow with that voice.
Now it looked like the end of an era even though Amanda hadn't even been on the stage long enough to call her career an era. He stopped before entering the hospital. She needed a miracle. Soon the media would hear she'd been rescued and lay in convalescence in this small Bahamian hospital. Surely the cunning reporters would overwhelm the understaffed facility trying to cope with the hurricane injuries. The rent-a-cop he'd employed with his own money wouldn't stand a chance against the manipulative press. The situation would be dangerous.
A conversation with the chief of staff seemed to be in order. Just another thing added to his long list of tasks.
Bill entered Amanda's room, his palms grew damp as anticipation filled him. The sight of her sitting up brought a smile to his lips. The woman truly was amazing.
"Hello, did you sleep last night."
She nodded her head.
"You want anything to eat? Drink? Can I get you anything?" Damn, he was babbling. He was supposed to the calm FBI agent here to help, and he sounded more like a pimple-faced teen unable to contain his excitement at meeting Amanda.
She shook her head and motioned him closer. His reaction was swift.
Sweat. Shaking. Elevated heart rate.
Oh yeah, he had it bad. The idol worship needed to stop. After mentally berating himself he leaned in close, ignoring the delicate curve of her shoulders and the graceful shape of her ear.
Her voice was thin and wispy, unlike her usually strong pipes. "I remember."
"Wonderful, hopefully that sketch artist can come today and we'll get a flyer out with his face. Do you know his name?"
"I doubt he gave me his real name. Something like Dave."
"Why do you think that wasn't his real name?"
"He always laughed or smirked when I said his name. The guy was strange, but his behavior about the name thing was odd."
"I need to hear everything. Everything you remember."
Bill pulled his tape recorder out, ready to turn it on. Amanda's hand landed on his arm, her grip tight.
"I can't have this get out to the press."
"I'll guard the information with my life."
"Bill, they are devious. They have moles. I can't..."
The tears did him in. He crawled up onto her bed and wrapped his arms around her slight frame. She felt fragile so he loosened his arms. She took the opportunity to snuggle up next to him, semi crawling into his lap. His thoughts went wild. He imagined what it would really fell like to be holding her as a lover would.
No doubt about it he was a first class jerk. Amazing, he totally was ready to take her, but only idiot would take advantage of a woman in her situation. He focused his thoughts finding her attacker.
Working this close to Amanda would be difficult, especially with the pain of Shana's betrayal so raw. Acting on his infatuation would be beyond stupid. Amanda needed a police officer to help her, not some hormonal guy ready to claim her.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
June 9, 2011
Chapter 10: Part 1
The storm had passed by and left brilliant blue sky above. Amanda sat up in bed staring out the window. Her memory had surfaced in bits and pieces as the storm had raged last night.
For some reason she didn't mind the sun. For sure the she thought she would never again appreciate the sun-drenched landscape, but the post storm brightness was a welcome sight.
Unfortunately, she now remembered almost all of her captivity. The pain and torture followed by the degradation kept her wincing. Maybe that's why she liked the sun, something to chase away the dreadful memories.
Part of her wished she didn't remember. Another part wished she had died out there on the ocean. If only...
The world wouldn't be kind. People would want to know what had happened. Questions would be asked. Interviewers would probe. Someone in law enforcement or at the hospital would leak the information.
She felt tears trickle down her cheeks. How had she been so stupid? She knew strangers were dangerous, but fun had been the only thing on her mind.
Someone had sent her pictures of him with that bimbo. Randall had sworn the photos were fake but she didn't know what to believe.
The days on the boat had brought her some perspective. Even if the photo's had been faked, their relationship wasn't going anywhere. They were over. She should have seen it earlier, but Randall had been easy. Easy to look at, easy to guide and direct, and easy to get rid of.
She doubted if she would ever trust again. The lack of judgment she'd displayed by getting on the boat with a guy she didn't even know had her stumped. What the hell had she been thinking?
She wished the FBI agent would come back. Maybe she could discuss the events with him. Maybe he could help her see where she'd gone wrong.
The door swung open and Amanda jumped.
"Sorry sweetie, I didn't mean to scare you. I need to take your vitals."
Amanda tried to speak, but her voice gave out before she could complete the first syllable. That was another thing that had her freaked out. Her voice wasn't worth crap. Sometimes she could carry a conversation, other's it was hard to even speak. Of course all the conversations she'd had were whispered, but she could still communicate. Right now it felt like someone was holding a razor blade at her voice box.
"It's okay darling, no need to talk." The nurse loomed over her, her height forcing her to bend low just to take Amanda's temperature. The blood pressure cuff grew tight as the nurse pumped it full of air.
The relief Amanda felt with her anonymity was palpable. If the doctors and nurses knew who she was, how bad would it be? Eventually someone would recognize her, but for now she enjoyed being nobody.
"You seem better. You're blood pressure is still up, but not as bad as yesterday. Temp's still high. I guess you have a few more days to put up with our hospitality, or lack of it." The nurse threw back her head and laughed.
Amanda wished she felt as carefree. She smiled and tried to speak a response but nothing came out. The lack of voice annoyed the heck out of her. Eventually she would need to seek out a specialist. Maybe the condition was temporary. Really, she didn't want to think about how bad life would be if she could never sing again. Making music with her voice and performing in front of others was the essence of Amanda. Taking that away would ruin everything.
The thought of having to rework her entire life scared her. Maybe it was time to hang up the mic and take up a new roll. Tears formed in her eyes, she swiped them away. Crying was for wimps, and she couldn't afford to wimp out right now. Her future depended on her being strong.
Copyright Sara Thacker
For some reason she didn't mind the sun. For sure the she thought she would never again appreciate the sun-drenched landscape, but the post storm brightness was a welcome sight.
Unfortunately, she now remembered almost all of her captivity. The pain and torture followed by the degradation kept her wincing. Maybe that's why she liked the sun, something to chase away the dreadful memories.
Part of her wished she didn't remember. Another part wished she had died out there on the ocean. If only...
The world wouldn't be kind. People would want to know what had happened. Questions would be asked. Interviewers would probe. Someone in law enforcement or at the hospital would leak the information.
She felt tears trickle down her cheeks. How had she been so stupid? She knew strangers were dangerous, but fun had been the only thing on her mind.
Someone had sent her pictures of him with that bimbo. Randall had sworn the photos were fake but she didn't know what to believe.
The days on the boat had brought her some perspective. Even if the photo's had been faked, their relationship wasn't going anywhere. They were over. She should have seen it earlier, but Randall had been easy. Easy to look at, easy to guide and direct, and easy to get rid of.
She doubted if she would ever trust again. The lack of judgment she'd displayed by getting on the boat with a guy she didn't even know had her stumped. What the hell had she been thinking?
She wished the FBI agent would come back. Maybe she could discuss the events with him. Maybe he could help her see where she'd gone wrong.
The door swung open and Amanda jumped.
"Sorry sweetie, I didn't mean to scare you. I need to take your vitals."
Amanda tried to speak, but her voice gave out before she could complete the first syllable. That was another thing that had her freaked out. Her voice wasn't worth crap. Sometimes she could carry a conversation, other's it was hard to even speak. Of course all the conversations she'd had were whispered, but she could still communicate. Right now it felt like someone was holding a razor blade at her voice box.
"It's okay darling, no need to talk." The nurse loomed over her, her height forcing her to bend low just to take Amanda's temperature. The blood pressure cuff grew tight as the nurse pumped it full of air.
The relief Amanda felt with her anonymity was palpable. If the doctors and nurses knew who she was, how bad would it be? Eventually someone would recognize her, but for now she enjoyed being nobody.
"You seem better. You're blood pressure is still up, but not as bad as yesterday. Temp's still high. I guess you have a few more days to put up with our hospitality, or lack of it." The nurse threw back her head and laughed.
Amanda wished she felt as carefree. She smiled and tried to speak a response but nothing came out. The lack of voice annoyed the heck out of her. Eventually she would need to seek out a specialist. Maybe the condition was temporary. Really, she didn't want to think about how bad life would be if she could never sing again. Making music with her voice and performing in front of others was the essence of Amanda. Taking that away would ruin everything.
The thought of having to rework her entire life scared her. Maybe it was time to hang up the mic and take up a new roll. Tears formed in her eyes, she swiped them away. Crying was for wimps, and she couldn't afford to wimp out right now. Her future depended on her being strong.
Copyright Sara Thacker
June 8, 2011
Chapter 9:Part 5
Delanie couldn't believe the guy was back. She'd probably jumped to the wrong conclusion about the whole stalking thing, but how the hell was she supposed believe him. He was too good to be true. Really, a guy who didn't force sex when they were alone on a romantic island. Now, that was fantasy.
She'd just been thinking about Sam, and now he was here. He'd scared the crap out of her though.
Was he just an average guy, or was he hiding something, like the fact that he worked for a paper. It was almost too convenient that he showed up here twice. Trusting him meant being vulnerable. Every time she had let her guard down in the past it had come back to bite her.
"Delanie, I'm not up to anything other than getting out of the storm."
She held her ground, hoping that lifting her eyebrow would give him the impression that she was tough and wouldn't be a victim.
"Okay, so I had ulterior motives to hanging around."
"Ha, I knew it."
He swiped his damp hair with a towel. "I wanted to see you again."
"Why?"
He dropped the towel onto the countertop and blew out a breath. "I've never had to do this before."
Delanie took two steps back and her heart stalled. What if he was some deranged psycho? Mimi had warned her that Amanda had gone missing.
"Listen, I'm not great at talking about my feelings. You are a very unique person. I like you a lot. I don't know who you are though I feel like I've known you my entire life."
He took a step closer, the look on his face tugged at her heart.
"Delanie, I'm just trying to be honest with you."
"Honest? Let me ask you this. Who do you work for?"
"I don't work for anyone."
"So you freelance?"
"I don't freelance. I own my own company."
"What are you, some kind of internet news guy then?"
"I'm not a news guy. I don't know the first thing about reporting or taking pictures."
"Then why are you here?"
"I really just wanted to get to know you better."
Delanie dropped into one of the tall backed kitchen chairs. The fact that Sam just wanted to get to know her struck her as odd. She looked up at him, wondering how long the fascination would last until he took something of hers and sold it on Ebay.
Damn, she hated being so suspicious. Getting to know someone shouldn't be this hard. Everything in her life had led her to this place. She wished things were different. That she was just a girl interested in a guy. But she wasn't just any girl. Every dating experience had to be thought about and deciphered.
"I'm sorry. It's just..."
"Who are you and what happened to you?"
"What do you mean?"
"This is the second time you thought I was here to take pictures of you."
"It's complicated."
"We have a while. Sounds like the storm is still going strong."
She stood and shook off the strange feeling that held onto her since she'd first heard Sam outside. "I'm going to make some coffee while we still have electricity. Do you want any soup?"
"Sure, I'm a bit hungry." He walked over to the kitchen cabinets and started searching through them. After a few seconds he came up with a saucepan. "I'm not a gourmand, but I do know how to heat up soup. First though, I need to find your pantry."
Delanie pointed to the door where the food was stored. Doing domestic chores always made her feel good, almost normal. Like if she concentrated on cooking then maybe she could find a good relationship like all the other average Joe's, or Jane's out there.
Preparing a meal with Sam would be cathartic. She watched him search through drawers. "You like living on your boat?"
"Yeah, except during storm season."
"Must be hard living alone when the storms come up."
"It's a choice. I like it, for the most part. The weather gets bad. Usually it doesn't pop up so suddenly."
"Do you ever get lonely? You know, want people around?"
"Not yet. I'm sure one day I'll go back to living on land, but I like being alone. Actually, I was thinking about going back, but I'm not sure I could."
"Why not?"
He turned his back on her, his hands planted on the countertop, his shoulders heaved as he drew in a breath.
"Seams like you have a demon hunting you," she said.
"What?"
"I only know because I have one too."
"Then I guess we're in the same boat."
She took two steps forward, closing the gap between them. "I wonder if for tonight we could pretend all that baggage out there haunting us both just disappeared?"
"I hate baggage."
He reached out and touched her lips, "Shhh, don't think about it. Let's embrace the solitude and forget about what has come before."
"That's twice that we've ignored reality for some fantasy life."
He smoothed a strand of hair away from her face. "Yeah, probably not healthy for us to do that."
A funny tickle bubbled in her stomach. She pulled a leaf out of his hair, examining it before focusing in on his eyes. "Well, it's not like we're trying to build a relationship."
"No, just two nobodies alone on a romantic island."
Heat raced up her neck to her face. His gaze held hers. No mattered what they said about this not being serious she could feel the tension holding the two of them together. She wanted a relationship with this man so bad it scared her. She should go back to accusing him of being a jerk, because playing with him would surely hurt in the end.
"Should we tell the truth about our pasts?" He asked.
There would come a time when they both had to fess up to who they were, but she didn't want it to be tonight. Tonight she wanted to play act for a little bit longer.
"No, unless you want to. But I don't want to pressure you to tell me because I'm not ready to tell you about where I've been and what I do."
"Sounds good, unless you suddenly decide that telling me about your past is important, then I'll listen."
She smiled and held out her hand. He reached for her, pulling her close. "This calls for more than a handshake. It's more like a hug kind of promise."
When he wrapped his arms tightly around her she felt like heaven had captured her. She wanted to feel this way forever. Too bad reality would step in before long.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
She'd just been thinking about Sam, and now he was here. He'd scared the crap out of her though.
Was he just an average guy, or was he hiding something, like the fact that he worked for a paper. It was almost too convenient that he showed up here twice. Trusting him meant being vulnerable. Every time she had let her guard down in the past it had come back to bite her.
"Delanie, I'm not up to anything other than getting out of the storm."
She held her ground, hoping that lifting her eyebrow would give him the impression that she was tough and wouldn't be a victim.
"Okay, so I had ulterior motives to hanging around."
"Ha, I knew it."
He swiped his damp hair with a towel. "I wanted to see you again."
"Why?"
He dropped the towel onto the countertop and blew out a breath. "I've never had to do this before."
Delanie took two steps back and her heart stalled. What if he was some deranged psycho? Mimi had warned her that Amanda had gone missing.
"Listen, I'm not great at talking about my feelings. You are a very unique person. I like you a lot. I don't know who you are though I feel like I've known you my entire life."
He took a step closer, the look on his face tugged at her heart.
"Delanie, I'm just trying to be honest with you."
"Honest? Let me ask you this. Who do you work for?"
"I don't work for anyone."
"So you freelance?"
"I don't freelance. I own my own company."
"What are you, some kind of internet news guy then?"
"I'm not a news guy. I don't know the first thing about reporting or taking pictures."
"Then why are you here?"
"I really just wanted to get to know you better."
Delanie dropped into one of the tall backed kitchen chairs. The fact that Sam just wanted to get to know her struck her as odd. She looked up at him, wondering how long the fascination would last until he took something of hers and sold it on Ebay.
Damn, she hated being so suspicious. Getting to know someone shouldn't be this hard. Everything in her life had led her to this place. She wished things were different. That she was just a girl interested in a guy. But she wasn't just any girl. Every dating experience had to be thought about and deciphered.
"I'm sorry. It's just..."
"Who are you and what happened to you?"
"What do you mean?"
"This is the second time you thought I was here to take pictures of you."
"It's complicated."
"We have a while. Sounds like the storm is still going strong."
She stood and shook off the strange feeling that held onto her since she'd first heard Sam outside. "I'm going to make some coffee while we still have electricity. Do you want any soup?"
"Sure, I'm a bit hungry." He walked over to the kitchen cabinets and started searching through them. After a few seconds he came up with a saucepan. "I'm not a gourmand, but I do know how to heat up soup. First though, I need to find your pantry."
Delanie pointed to the door where the food was stored. Doing domestic chores always made her feel good, almost normal. Like if she concentrated on cooking then maybe she could find a good relationship like all the other average Joe's, or Jane's out there.
Preparing a meal with Sam would be cathartic. She watched him search through drawers. "You like living on your boat?"
"Yeah, except during storm season."
"Must be hard living alone when the storms come up."
"It's a choice. I like it, for the most part. The weather gets bad. Usually it doesn't pop up so suddenly."
"Do you ever get lonely? You know, want people around?"
"Not yet. I'm sure one day I'll go back to living on land, but I like being alone. Actually, I was thinking about going back, but I'm not sure I could."
"Why not?"
He turned his back on her, his hands planted on the countertop, his shoulders heaved as he drew in a breath.
"Seams like you have a demon hunting you," she said.
"What?"
"I only know because I have one too."
"Then I guess we're in the same boat."
She took two steps forward, closing the gap between them. "I wonder if for tonight we could pretend all that baggage out there haunting us both just disappeared?"
"I hate baggage."
He reached out and touched her lips, "Shhh, don't think about it. Let's embrace the solitude and forget about what has come before."
"That's twice that we've ignored reality for some fantasy life."
He smoothed a strand of hair away from her face. "Yeah, probably not healthy for us to do that."
A funny tickle bubbled in her stomach. She pulled a leaf out of his hair, examining it before focusing in on his eyes. "Well, it's not like we're trying to build a relationship."
"No, just two nobodies alone on a romantic island."
Heat raced up her neck to her face. His gaze held hers. No mattered what they said about this not being serious she could feel the tension holding the two of them together. She wanted a relationship with this man so bad it scared her. She should go back to accusing him of being a jerk, because playing with him would surely hurt in the end.
"Should we tell the truth about our pasts?" He asked.
There would come a time when they both had to fess up to who they were, but she didn't want it to be tonight. Tonight she wanted to play act for a little bit longer.
"No, unless you want to. But I don't want to pressure you to tell me because I'm not ready to tell you about where I've been and what I do."
"Sounds good, unless you suddenly decide that telling me about your past is important, then I'll listen."
She smiled and held out her hand. He reached for her, pulling her close. "This calls for more than a handshake. It's more like a hug kind of promise."
When he wrapped his arms tightly around her she felt like heaven had captured her. She wanted to feel this way forever. Too bad reality would step in before long.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
Chapter 9:Part 4
The wind had picked up as Samuel anchored out in the protected inlet and used the rubber dingy to go ashore. He prayed his boat would make it through the storm. He had brought two long lines ashore and planed to tie both to different trees, hoping that the trees would outlast the storm.
He fought the wind with the dingy, wrestling it into the storage shed at the top of the dock. The damned thing would probably blow away, but maybe some luck would shine on him and the shed would survive the storm.
Finding the shed unlocked had been surprising. He wondered how long the thing had been left unattended. Thieves could strike without warning, stealing the owner blind. But it wasn't his concern. Right now, his primary worry was finding shelter before the storm hit.
If he had been smart he would have headed for a larger island. But Delanie had been on his mind for days. If he felt he could have, he would have come ashore yesterday and talked. About what, he didn't know.
He still was wary about telling her who he was. He didn't want to hide everything from her, but if she found out billionaire was a word commonly used to describe him she would change her tune. They all did. Women flocked to him once the money thing was mentioned. They often would come up with almost any excuses to be near him.
Lying turned his stomach though. He'd never been good at spinning a deceiving lie. In business he may refrain from telling everything, but an outright lie would do him in.
Two steps up the hill to Delanie's house the rain hit. Before he'd even gone two more steps his shirt was drenched. By the time he made it to the top of the stairs everything with him was wet.
He ran to the porch and found the French door covered with wood that he couldn't budge open. She must have locked the place down.
Sam circled the house, noticing the roof for the cistern up on the hill behind the house. Even with the height of the island he wondered if the cistern should be shut off. Of course if the ocean water rose high enough to get into the cistern they would have other problems.
Every shutter had been secured. He found one window that had been left open under the wooden slats, but every time he approached the trees and bushes beat the heck out of him.
Instead of risking death by foliage he went around the house to a huge wooden door. With his fist clenched he started pounding, praying that she would hear him.
Lightning struck close by. Thunder crashed, drowning out any sound he might make. The sky opened. What he thought earlier was heavy rain was nothing compared to what came down now.
Sam ran back around the house. Opening each shutter to check the window. After many cuts and scrapes to his arms he found one window unlocked. He slid the window up, ignoring the leaves and branches cutting at his legs as he slid into the house. He jumped up and closed the window, knowing he needed to go back out and secure the shutter.
"What the hell?"
Sam looked up to see the beautiful Delanie, eyes blazing with fear and anger, wielding a frying pan as she barred his exit from the room.
"Delanie, sorry to scare you. I couldn't get in. Been pounding on the door."
"That was you?"
"Obviously I used the wrong tactics to get in."
"Yeah, don't do that again."
"Sorry." He stood, knowing that he needed to get back outside to fix the mess he'd made with the shutter before it was too late. "Can I?" He tried to move past her but she held the frying pan up, ready to strike.
"No."
"You could pound me latter, I need to get back out there and fix the shutter."
"Fine."
She stepped back and let him pass. Her stance filed with anger. He had scared her. That hadn't been his intention.
With the frying pan still in hand she followed him to the door. He opened it, hating the way the rain swamped the entryway.
Once outside he moved with speed. Thankfully the shutter hadn't ripped itself out of the wall. He secured the wooden structure and headed back to the door. The sound of a tree breaking shook him. He turned to see a huge palm fall to the ground not far from the house. If one of those things hit the roof the house might not survive.
With leaping steps he ran back to the entry door, praying she would let him back in. With two steps to go she opened the door and he dashed in, almost slipping on the tile.
"Here, dry off."
"I need to strip, no way I could ever get dry with these still on."
"Fine. Here's the towel. I'll go search out some clothes for you."
He watched her walk away, wondering again why he hadn't come back yesterday. Showing up when the weather had been nice would surely have scored him more points than scaring the crap out of her.
After divesting himself of all his clothes he wrapped a towel around his waist. He felt uncomfortable standing stark naked in her house. This wasn't the best way to impress her. He heard her shoes clicking on the tile then looked up at her face. Damn, she was angry.
"Here are some clothes. After you clean up your drippy mess come and meet me in the kitchen."
The cold wave coming off of her left nothing to guess work. She didn't want him here. He wished he could comply, but there was no way for him to get back to his boat. He could have tried to ride out the storm, but he hadn't wanted to risk his life this time.
Last year during the storm season he had lost one boat. This year he didn't want to lose anything. This time he would put his boat in storage when storms came near.
Sam put on the dry clothes and mopped up his mess. He hung his wet clothes in the bathroom. After washing his face and wasting as much time as he thought he could get away with he went in search of Delanie.
"Hey, sorry to have scared you earlier."
"Why did you come back here?"
"I was near."
"Bull."
"Okay, I've been thinking about you. I wanted to see you. I hadn't planned on there being a storm."
"You are stalking me. Who's paying you?"
"What?"
"You said you weren't with a newspaper last time, I don't believe you now. You are up to something."
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
He fought the wind with the dingy, wrestling it into the storage shed at the top of the dock. The damned thing would probably blow away, but maybe some luck would shine on him and the shed would survive the storm.
Finding the shed unlocked had been surprising. He wondered how long the thing had been left unattended. Thieves could strike without warning, stealing the owner blind. But it wasn't his concern. Right now, his primary worry was finding shelter before the storm hit.
If he had been smart he would have headed for a larger island. But Delanie had been on his mind for days. If he felt he could have, he would have come ashore yesterday and talked. About what, he didn't know.
He still was wary about telling her who he was. He didn't want to hide everything from her, but if she found out billionaire was a word commonly used to describe him she would change her tune. They all did. Women flocked to him once the money thing was mentioned. They often would come up with almost any excuses to be near him.
Lying turned his stomach though. He'd never been good at spinning a deceiving lie. In business he may refrain from telling everything, but an outright lie would do him in.
Two steps up the hill to Delanie's house the rain hit. Before he'd even gone two more steps his shirt was drenched. By the time he made it to the top of the stairs everything with him was wet.
He ran to the porch and found the French door covered with wood that he couldn't budge open. She must have locked the place down.
Sam circled the house, noticing the roof for the cistern up on the hill behind the house. Even with the height of the island he wondered if the cistern should be shut off. Of course if the ocean water rose high enough to get into the cistern they would have other problems.
Every shutter had been secured. He found one window that had been left open under the wooden slats, but every time he approached the trees and bushes beat the heck out of him.
Instead of risking death by foliage he went around the house to a huge wooden door. With his fist clenched he started pounding, praying that she would hear him.
Lightning struck close by. Thunder crashed, drowning out any sound he might make. The sky opened. What he thought earlier was heavy rain was nothing compared to what came down now.
Sam ran back around the house. Opening each shutter to check the window. After many cuts and scrapes to his arms he found one window unlocked. He slid the window up, ignoring the leaves and branches cutting at his legs as he slid into the house. He jumped up and closed the window, knowing he needed to go back out and secure the shutter.
"What the hell?"
Sam looked up to see the beautiful Delanie, eyes blazing with fear and anger, wielding a frying pan as she barred his exit from the room.
"Delanie, sorry to scare you. I couldn't get in. Been pounding on the door."
"That was you?"
"Obviously I used the wrong tactics to get in."
"Yeah, don't do that again."
"Sorry." He stood, knowing that he needed to get back outside to fix the mess he'd made with the shutter before it was too late. "Can I?" He tried to move past her but she held the frying pan up, ready to strike.
"No."
"You could pound me latter, I need to get back out there and fix the shutter."
"Fine."
She stepped back and let him pass. Her stance filed with anger. He had scared her. That hadn't been his intention.
With the frying pan still in hand she followed him to the door. He opened it, hating the way the rain swamped the entryway.
Once outside he moved with speed. Thankfully the shutter hadn't ripped itself out of the wall. He secured the wooden structure and headed back to the door. The sound of a tree breaking shook him. He turned to see a huge palm fall to the ground not far from the house. If one of those things hit the roof the house might not survive.
With leaping steps he ran back to the entry door, praying she would let him back in. With two steps to go she opened the door and he dashed in, almost slipping on the tile.
"Here, dry off."
"I need to strip, no way I could ever get dry with these still on."
"Fine. Here's the towel. I'll go search out some clothes for you."
He watched her walk away, wondering again why he hadn't come back yesterday. Showing up when the weather had been nice would surely have scored him more points than scaring the crap out of her.
After divesting himself of all his clothes he wrapped a towel around his waist. He felt uncomfortable standing stark naked in her house. This wasn't the best way to impress her. He heard her shoes clicking on the tile then looked up at her face. Damn, she was angry.
"Here are some clothes. After you clean up your drippy mess come and meet me in the kitchen."
The cold wave coming off of her left nothing to guess work. She didn't want him here. He wished he could comply, but there was no way for him to get back to his boat. He could have tried to ride out the storm, but he hadn't wanted to risk his life this time.
Last year during the storm season he had lost one boat. This year he didn't want to lose anything. This time he would put his boat in storage when storms came near.
Sam put on the dry clothes and mopped up his mess. He hung his wet clothes in the bathroom. After washing his face and wasting as much time as he thought he could get away with he went in search of Delanie.
"Hey, sorry to have scared you earlier."
"Why did you come back here?"
"I was near."
"Bull."
"Okay, I've been thinking about you. I wanted to see you. I hadn't planned on there being a storm."
"You are stalking me. Who's paying you?"
"What?"
"You said you weren't with a newspaper last time, I don't believe you now. You are up to something."
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
June 7, 2011
Chapter 9:Part 3
Bill wasn't usually so inattentive to the weather. He checked the forecast daily, making sure the weather wouldn't interfere with his operations. This morning he swore he had looked at the weather on his computer and they said it would be clear, but as he looked out the window it was anything but clear. Inky black clouds rolled across the sky only a few miles off shore. If luck were with them it would only be a small storm, but it didn't look small, instead it looked threatening and dangerous. Not something he would ever want to be caught out in.
His attention turned back to Amanda. She was lucky. If she'd been caught out in a storm like this, she surely would have perished. He hoped she thought of herself as lucky. The way she looked would improve, but not much. Her voice was still a ragged mess, her vocal chords swollen stiff.
The doctor hadn't given her a great report. Bill hadn't meant to, but he had overheard the doctor speaking with Amanda. She wanted to sing again. The doctor said it was doubtful that she would ever take to the stage after so much trauma.
Bill had come in to hold her hand while she cried. Amanda had finally drifted off to sleep. Now he stared out into the mess outside and wondered if his wife had sense enough to come in out of the rain. He should go and check on her, but he really didn't want to. She had told him that she was a big girl, wise enough to take care of herself.
Damn, Shana could be such a bitch. He hated thinking of her in that way, but it was true. They weren't suited for each other. Trying to make it work would only take them so far, especially since she didn't try on her end. It was all him trying to make a go of it, and her demanding he follow her expensive whims.
Truth be told, he hadn't been happy in their marriage for years but what the hell could he do. He wanted happily ever after. The fiftieth anniversary with all the grandkids and great-grandkids gathered around.
He wanted to be able to say that they had made it. Worked together, through thick and thin to make it work. That in the end, after all had been said and done, he had been successful with his work and family.
Amanda's breathing grew deeper. Bill went to the nurse's station and checked with the hospital staff. Yes they knew a storm was approaching but it wasn't a Hurricane yet. They would take precautions. Yes, the windows were made out of hurricane proof glass. No, the hospital wouldn't flood.
Relief washed over Bill. At least Amanda would be safe, now he needed to find his wife. Shana could be anywhere, most likely she was at her hotel acting wealthy. He hated that attitude. His family had played it so well. Pulling rank, acting the snob, taking advantage of others. In the beginning it had been different with Shana, but then that fateful Christmas when she met his family. After that everything changed.
His wife wasn't the same person he married. She looked similar but her actions were different.
The drive across the island was uneventful. No one had freaked out. Back in DC if a storm like this approached from the sea people would go ape shit. But things ran differently here on the island. They were used to category four hurricanes and massive weather systems.
If he lived out here, he guessed he would be used to the wind and rain, but the thought of waterspouts coming ashore and roofs ripping off of buildings scared the shit out of him.
The atmosphere was different at the One and Only Beach Club. Tourist dashed about, carrying their bags and catching the first available cabs. He guessed a mass exodus would occur, of course only so many people could leave the island before the storm hit.
He made his way to the registration desk and asked to be connected to Shana's room. He refused to show up unannounced. She would read too much into his arriving without notice. Either she would think he was overly concerned, or she would flaunt a guy in his face.
The desk agent smiled and handed the phone over. "Here's the phone sir."
"Shana, could you please come down to the lobby."
"No."
"Please, I would like to speak to you."
"Leave me alone."
"Shana, come down. We need to speak."
"Leave me alone." The phone disconnected, leaving Bill with no choice.
He hated being angry in public. His mother had schooled him well in always acting like he was in control. Throwing a fit, shouting, displaying anything other than a cool, calm and collected demeanor would show low breading and every Rowland was high bred. The Rowland's were cream of the crop. No one could find fault in the public persona. Only after you entered the family were you allowed to view the dark side.
Bill knew where her room was, that wasn't the issue. Now he'd have to meet on her terms in a private room. In public he could guarantee she would reserve most of her anger for another time, in private it would be messy.
For twenty seconds he stood in front of her door, trying desperately to talk himself out of knocking. He didn't want to see his wife, not really. But making sure she was safe was his duty.
Bill knocked, knowing that whatever awaited him would be bad. Shana ripped open the door, her hair a mess, her makeup smudged. He could smell sex on the air wafting out of her room. His heart sunk, he wanted to cry, but Rowland men didn't cry.
With a shake of his head he gritted his teeth and stuffed his feelings. "Shana, you need to leave the island."
A male voice came from the bathroom. "What's going on babe?"
The stomach clenching nausea hit him before he could catch his feelings. The emotions threatened to overwhelm him. Sure, he was ready to be done with his marriage, but he wasn't ready to think of Shana fucking someone else.
"Nothing," Shana called back into the room without opening the door.
"There is a storm about to hit the island. If you board a plane you will make it to the safety of the main land."
Bill watched in horror as a hand pulled Shana back and a young punk with a towel around his waist replaced her in the door. "Listen old man, she's fine. I've got her now."
Any response died on his tongue. How the hell could he respond? If she'd done anything else, even threw a fit and spent a boatload of money on clothes he would have forgiven her. But this was too much. He wanted to point out that the prenuptial she'd signed cut her off of the money if she was caught cheating.
"Randy, back off." Shana pushed the punk out of the way, a challenge shown in her eyes. "Go away. I don't need you here. I will be fine."
Bill nodded his head once and stalked away. How the hell could he respond? He exited the hotel and notice immediately that the wind had picked up. The approaching storm would be a doozie.
Shane was lost to him. If he were truthful, she had been for years. He'd been fooling himself to think he could win her back. The shock of having money was too much for her. His parents had been right. He should have stuck to the girls who knew money, marrying for love only lead to pain and anguish.
Copyright Sara Thacker
His attention turned back to Amanda. She was lucky. If she'd been caught out in a storm like this, she surely would have perished. He hoped she thought of herself as lucky. The way she looked would improve, but not much. Her voice was still a ragged mess, her vocal chords swollen stiff.
The doctor hadn't given her a great report. Bill hadn't meant to, but he had overheard the doctor speaking with Amanda. She wanted to sing again. The doctor said it was doubtful that she would ever take to the stage after so much trauma.
Bill had come in to hold her hand while she cried. Amanda had finally drifted off to sleep. Now he stared out into the mess outside and wondered if his wife had sense enough to come in out of the rain. He should go and check on her, but he really didn't want to. She had told him that she was a big girl, wise enough to take care of herself.
Damn, Shana could be such a bitch. He hated thinking of her in that way, but it was true. They weren't suited for each other. Trying to make it work would only take them so far, especially since she didn't try on her end. It was all him trying to make a go of it, and her demanding he follow her expensive whims.
Truth be told, he hadn't been happy in their marriage for years but what the hell could he do. He wanted happily ever after. The fiftieth anniversary with all the grandkids and great-grandkids gathered around.
He wanted to be able to say that they had made it. Worked together, through thick and thin to make it work. That in the end, after all had been said and done, he had been successful with his work and family.
Amanda's breathing grew deeper. Bill went to the nurse's station and checked with the hospital staff. Yes they knew a storm was approaching but it wasn't a Hurricane yet. They would take precautions. Yes, the windows were made out of hurricane proof glass. No, the hospital wouldn't flood.
Relief washed over Bill. At least Amanda would be safe, now he needed to find his wife. Shana could be anywhere, most likely she was at her hotel acting wealthy. He hated that attitude. His family had played it so well. Pulling rank, acting the snob, taking advantage of others. In the beginning it had been different with Shana, but then that fateful Christmas when she met his family. After that everything changed.
His wife wasn't the same person he married. She looked similar but her actions were different.
The drive across the island was uneventful. No one had freaked out. Back in DC if a storm like this approached from the sea people would go ape shit. But things ran differently here on the island. They were used to category four hurricanes and massive weather systems.
If he lived out here, he guessed he would be used to the wind and rain, but the thought of waterspouts coming ashore and roofs ripping off of buildings scared the shit out of him.
The atmosphere was different at the One and Only Beach Club. Tourist dashed about, carrying their bags and catching the first available cabs. He guessed a mass exodus would occur, of course only so many people could leave the island before the storm hit.
He made his way to the registration desk and asked to be connected to Shana's room. He refused to show up unannounced. She would read too much into his arriving without notice. Either she would think he was overly concerned, or she would flaunt a guy in his face.
The desk agent smiled and handed the phone over. "Here's the phone sir."
"Shana, could you please come down to the lobby."
"No."
"Please, I would like to speak to you."
"Leave me alone."
"Shana, come down. We need to speak."
"Leave me alone." The phone disconnected, leaving Bill with no choice.
He hated being angry in public. His mother had schooled him well in always acting like he was in control. Throwing a fit, shouting, displaying anything other than a cool, calm and collected demeanor would show low breading and every Rowland was high bred. The Rowland's were cream of the crop. No one could find fault in the public persona. Only after you entered the family were you allowed to view the dark side.
Bill knew where her room was, that wasn't the issue. Now he'd have to meet on her terms in a private room. In public he could guarantee she would reserve most of her anger for another time, in private it would be messy.
For twenty seconds he stood in front of her door, trying desperately to talk himself out of knocking. He didn't want to see his wife, not really. But making sure she was safe was his duty.
Bill knocked, knowing that whatever awaited him would be bad. Shana ripped open the door, her hair a mess, her makeup smudged. He could smell sex on the air wafting out of her room. His heart sunk, he wanted to cry, but Rowland men didn't cry.
With a shake of his head he gritted his teeth and stuffed his feelings. "Shana, you need to leave the island."
A male voice came from the bathroom. "What's going on babe?"
The stomach clenching nausea hit him before he could catch his feelings. The emotions threatened to overwhelm him. Sure, he was ready to be done with his marriage, but he wasn't ready to think of Shana fucking someone else.
"Nothing," Shana called back into the room without opening the door.
"There is a storm about to hit the island. If you board a plane you will make it to the safety of the main land."
Bill watched in horror as a hand pulled Shana back and a young punk with a towel around his waist replaced her in the door. "Listen old man, she's fine. I've got her now."
Any response died on his tongue. How the hell could he respond? If she'd done anything else, even threw a fit and spent a boatload of money on clothes he would have forgiven her. But this was too much. He wanted to point out that the prenuptial she'd signed cut her off of the money if she was caught cheating.
"Randy, back off." Shana pushed the punk out of the way, a challenge shown in her eyes. "Go away. I don't need you here. I will be fine."
Bill nodded his head once and stalked away. How the hell could he respond? He exited the hotel and notice immediately that the wind had picked up. The approaching storm would be a doozie.
Shane was lost to him. If he were truthful, she had been for years. He'd been fooling himself to think he could win her back. The shock of having money was too much for her. His parents had been right. He should have stuck to the girls who knew money, marrying for love only lead to pain and anguish.
Copyright Sara Thacker
Red Skhye In Morning
Introducing Red Skhye in Morning. Delanie Skhye is desperate for paparazzi free time. Samuel Taylor is on break from work. He finds Delanie alone on a private island, but something is wrong. A killer
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