Chapter Ten

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A KNOCK SOUNDED ON the door for the second time today.

I scurried to throw my bedsheets on top of the small pile I’d gathered while creating my escape bag. Running to the door, I opened it.

Once again, a smiley, pretty girl who I recognised was here to deliver a tray groaning with every delicacy imaginable. Usually, it was just her. A friendly hand over of lunch.

But not today.

Today, the same man who’d appeared this morning at seven a.m. stood beside her.

His tanned skin and jet-black hair hinted of his Indonesian origins. His intelligent dark eyes promised swift repercussions if I disobeyed, and his body held muscles that looked painstakingly built rather than given at birth.

Sully might have left, but he hadn’t relinquished control. This new overseer narrowed his eyes with suspicion, looking past me into the villa as if I’d stolen Sully’s prized belongings and frolicked with abandon.

“Thank you,” I said quietly as the girl dropped off the tray on the driftwood carved sideboard.

She smiled and bowed a little, darting back onto the sandy path and waiting for the man to signal departure.

The man continued to stare at me. Holding his hands clasped in front of him, he stood with his legs spread in authority and his lips pressed together in deliberation. Finally, he said, “As you are not serving in Euphoria today, I suggest you remain in your villa and enjoy this fine afternoon.” He bowed his head cordially. “I will be along to check on you this evening. If you require anything, please just ring for service.”

Another check?

How many will he do?

I nodded, clutching the door handle to end this strange meeting. The ease that cloaked the island while Sully ruled had gone, tightening with tension under this new leader’s command. His control felt brittle, as if he clutched the reins too hard and they might snap from his attempts at perfection.

As one, the man and woman turned to go. My mind whirled. I’d hoped I’d be able to head to the dining room to collect more food and water. Rations for my escape. His suggestion to stay in my villa had been more transparent, strict instruction rather than just a kind proposal.

“Do you think...” I held up my hand, stopping them. “That I could have some more water delivered? My fridge is low. Also...another bottle of sunscreen? I’m out. Oh, and some fruit would be great—but not sliced or prepared. I don’t mind peeling them.”

To my ears, I’d confessed to my plans of escape. I rushed with a shaky laugh. “I just like putting the fruit in the fridge and eating it when its cool...that’s all. If it’s already been prepared, it can go a bit brown and soggy.”

The man eyed me.

I wanted to hold his stare but instead dropped my gaze to his bare feet covered in golden-silver sand.

He studied me for far longer than I liked, and worry scattered down my spine. I’d thought leaving would be easy with Sully gone. I hadn’t accounted for his lackey to be so diligent.

“As you wish. I’ll have some brought directly.”

I hid my huge exhale of relief. “Thank you.” Before I could hint anymore at my indiscretions, I closed the door and slouched against it.

Oh, my God.

My heart winged a thousand flurries a minute, burning off breakfast, making me shake.

If I was going to do this, I had to be braver. I had to fully commit. To accept the hazards and pitfalls, to admit that it might not work and pain might be waiting on either side.

Pain of failure—beaten and reprimanded.

Pain of success—unknown hardship and struggle.

I’m committed.

I am.

Balling my hands, I straightened my back and returned to my small pile. Two sunhats, a long-sleeve blouse, one long skirt, two bikinis, a bottle of sunscreen, four bottles of water already pilfered from the fridge, pastries wrapped up from breakfast, a handful of grapes, and a slim, solar torch from the bedside drawer.

I had no idea how long I’d be at sea. The sun would beam down from above, burning me, dehydrating me, killing my energy and hope. I had to be smart and give myself the best possible chance of survival.

I was well aware I could be jumping from a monster’s den into death.

But...if I didn’t try...what does that make me?

My plan to leave before the sun rose had quickly evolved to a more intelligent attempt. If I’d jumped in a kayak then and there, without supplies, I wouldn’t have travelled far.

I didn’t want to be like the girls Sully said who’d attempted escape, only to be found sun-blistered and delirious from drinking saltwater.

This was my one chance.

I would not waste it.

Striding into the walk-in wardrobe where an array of priceless jewelled gowns and expensive island garments waited, I selected a seagrass woven beach bag and carried it back to the bed.

Surveying my chosen belongings, visualizing what my future held, I began to pack.

* * * * *

Time crawled.

I wanted to leave the moment I’d prepared myself, but I couldn’t leave until the final check. Until darkness had descended and I wouldn’t be seen rowing out to sea.

Dinner was delivered at seven p.m.

The man peered suspiciously, ensuring I still resided where I should.

I ate everything I could without passing out in a food coma and saved the rest that would travel. I had an additional four water bottles, extra sunscreen, and two pairs of sunglasses. Sully had been generous with my wardrobe, and I’d taken everything that would aid my journey. After I’d packed my bag, I’d spent a stupidly long time trying to decide if I took the diamond that’d been paid to me for allowing a man to treat me like some horny cavewoman.

The stone twinkled in my palm but instead of promising cash if I traded it if I escaped, it only captured facets of that fantasy. A heady, heavy reminder of what I’d done and what I’d become.

I didn’t want anything to remind me of how far I’d fallen.

The diamond returned to its dark home in my bedside drawer, and I turned my back on it. On the man who’d paid for my pleasure.

At eight p.m., the sun had set deep enough that the stars and their crescent moon had taken up residency in the velvet night.

I dressed in a cheesecloth blouse, longest skirt I had, and floppy straw hat, then slung my heavy bag over my shoulder. If the sun still shone, I could’ve explained my behaviour on wanting to sunbake on a different beach than my own...with a picnic for six and clothing for an entire weekend.

However, with the lanterns my only form of illumination as I tiptoed down the laneway, my attempt at escape might be foiled before I even stepped foot in the sea.

Reaching the end of the path, I took refuge in my bush. I waited and watched, ensuring no tipsy goddesses had decided to share wine and gossip on the sand.

Nothing.

No one.

Silence.

It seemed everyone had been requested to stay in their respective villas because the aura of the island was subdued.

The palms hung as if in loneliness for Sully’s return. The orchids not as vibrantly purple. Remove Sully from his home and the very ground where he resided mourned.

Poor Pika.

Where was that feathered fiend? Was he still sulking in a tree or had he vanished into the centre of the island to drown his sorrows on hibiscus like Sully had suggested?

When no one appeared after ten minutes, I sucked in a breath.

It’s now or never.

Last chance.

My heart skipped a beat as the tiniest fragment of hesitation filled me.

My ending on this island had come and I didn’t know why that made me pause. Why a small piece of me would forever remember Sully and his paradisiac utopia.

Go!

Stop thinking about him.

Stop being an idiot!

Gritting my teeth, I scurried from my bush, flung my bag into the closest kayak, then threw my weight against the jade green fibreglass, shoving the sleek craft toward the tide.

It hissed over the sand, slipping on its side, making the oar clank against its innards.

I froze.

I looked back at the treeline.

No one appeared.

I pushed again, coaxing it to ease closer and closer to the shore.

Come on. Come on!

With my heart in my mouth, I kept pushing until the back of it went weightless, twisting to sit upright and buoyant as the sea claimed it.

With warm water lapping at my ankles, I held up my skirt and looked back one final time.

The treeline remained empty.

The island seemed poised and pregnant with promise. Trees and foliage watched me leave. Tropical beauty said goodbye.

Go!

With a shaky breath, I clambered into the kayak and collected the oar.

I’d only ever manned a watercraft once before. It’d been five years ago during the summer holidays. We’d gone to a lake, and my friend’s brother had a kayak that he took us around in. He’d promised he’d keep me safe, but in the centre of the huge lake, he’d dived in and swam home, leaving me to row back on my own.

I’d hated it.

I’d had no arm strength and blisters covered my palms by the time I docked, shaky and angry, vowing never to use such a torture device again.

How ironic that this was now my favourite thing.

The tiny unassuming boat that would sail me to my freedom.

With one last look, I imprinted Sully’s home to my memory, drank in the sights of majestic palms and stunning moonlit sand, and rowed.

I turned and rowed, rowed, rowed.

I rowed until I couldn’t see his island anymore.