“Scotty!” Nemo sidles up to the bar. “Someone didn’t make it home last night.”
“Someone thinks that’s none of your business.”
“Someone also forgot to put on a shirt this morning.”
I don’t respond. Normally I’d laugh off his comment, but I don’t. I’m not irked. Not in the slightest. I just feel…
I should have walked Em back to her hut. To hell with my shift. She’s more important.
“Last anyone saw, you grabbed two beers and disappeared.”
“Still not your business.”
“Well, if you’re not interested in telling me about your evening, I’ll tell you about mine.”
“Lauren?” I ask.
“You betcha. And get this—she hates monogamy!”
“I know. She says anthropology doesn’t support it.”
“Yeah, whatever. I dig her outlook, man.”
I laugh. Nemo always becomes a seventies reject after he gets laid. Never fails. “Glad you had fun.”
“The whole thing became kind of an orgy after you left,” Nemo says. “It rocked.”
I nod. “Glad you had fun.”
“You a broken record or something?”
“Huh?”
“You said that twice. ‘Glad you had fun.’”
“Did I?”
“I figured once I said the word orgy your interest would be piqued.”
Funny. Normally it would be. But not today. All I can think about is watching Emily walk away from me with only my island print shirt covering her. I can’t wait to peel it off her later.
Damn.
I should have walked her back.
“What can I get you this morning, Nemo?”
“Still no comment on the orgy?”
“Not today. You want a smoothie? Juice? Water? Coconut water?”
“Give me a strawberry banana smoothie with a shot of wheatgrass.”
I stare toward the path that leads to the colonists’ huts. Something feels off to me. I can’t put it into words, but the back of my neck feels like shards of ice are prickling it.
“Dude,” Nemo says. “My smoothie.”
I hop over the counter. “Do me a favor. Cover for me.”
“I’m no bartender.”
“Fake it.”
“Scotty, what the fuck?”
“Sorry. There’s something I need to do. Now.”
“But—”
“For God’s sake, Nemo, you know how to work a blender. All the recipes are under the counter. I’ll be right back.”
I’m still barefoot, wishing I had my Air Jordans, but I run. I don’t know why, but I know I need to run.
I need to run fast.
I race through the common area and toward the colonists’ huts—toward Emily’s hut.
That’s when I see her.
Still wearing my island print shirt.
My heart nearly jumps out of my chest as I swallow a gulp of air.
A blond man is holding her, a knife to her neck.
Security guards and island police officers have guns trained on him.
God, please don’t shoot. Please don’t shoot. If they shoot him, they might get her.
I can’t bear the thought.
“Emily!” I shout.
She meets my gaze, pure fear in her brown eyes. She shakes her head slightly at me.
“Put the knife down,” one of the officers says. “Put it down and we’ll talk. You don’t come out of this alive if you don’t.”
“Fuck off!” the blond man says.
My gut is twisting into knots. Acid claws up my throat.
“Emily!” I yell again, my voice hoarse.
The man whispers something to her. She shakes her head vehemently.
“Let her go!” I yell. “Take me instead!”
A security guard grabs me. “You’ve got to get out of here, Scotty. This isn’t a game.”
“Do I look like I think it’s a game?” I wrench myself free from the guard, who I recognize as Jimmy Cox. We play poker sometimes.
“This guy’s off his rocker,” Jimmy says. “Get out of here before you get yourself in trouble.”
“I don’t care,” I say. “I can’t let him hurt her.”
“We won’t let him hurt her,” Jimmy says. “You’ve got to trust us. He’s way outnumbered.”
“I’m not worried about his life. Kill the SOB for all I care. I’m worried about hers.”
“Scotty, for God’s sake, let us do our job. If I’m here worrying about you, I’m not focused on her.”
That’s all I need to hear.
I step back, my heart in my throat being eaten alive by the bile that’s coating it.
God, Em.
I knew she was hiding something. I just had no idea it was a psycho boyfriend.
He looks vaguely familiar to me. He’s tall, muscular, with light blond hair. Where have I seen him before?
My mind blanks.
Only Em. Her safety. That silver blade is right against the creaminess of her neck. The neck I spent last night kissing…
My God…
I can’t lose her.
I can’t lose Emily.
I rake my fingers through my hair, pace around behind the action. I could run forward, demand to help.
But Jimmy’s right. I’m just another target the guards have to worry about.
I pace and pace and pace, until finally I turn back toward Emily and get as close as I can.
She meets my gaze.
And she mouths three words.
I love you.
God. I love you.
“I love you too,” I mouth back.
I don’t even have to think twice. The words tumble out on their own, as if they’ve always been inside me and always will be.
Is it forever love?
Does it even matter?
It’s love, and if, God forbid, Em doesn’t get out of this alive, I want her to know I love her.
In fact, I want to shout from the rooftops, but I don’t want to startle the psycho.
My stomach churns. I haven’t eaten anything. Just drank a quart of water when I got to the bar to begin my shift.
And now…
Now my stomach threatens to turn inside out on itself.
But Emily needs me.
She needs me to be strong for her.
Fuck! I feel so useless! So ridiculous standing here in nothing but board shorts, not allowed to cross the arbitrary line the guards have set up.
“Let her go,” an officer with a bullhorn shouts. “You hurt her, you go down.”
“If I die, we both die!” Psycho shouts back.
I curl my hands into fists. Not on my watch. I can’t just stand here and do nothing.
I run.
I run full force through the makeshift boundary.
I run toward the woman I love.
I’m almost there when—
A shot. A fucking bullet.