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His head bobs up and I see him take a huge gulp of air.

“Take hold!” I scream, holding the edge of the stick so that the other end is within his grasp. This has to work. It has to.

“Cy, take hold!” I scream, my voice almost instantly drowned out in the deafening sound of the fall. “Take it!” My voice cracks and I swallow a sob. I need him to live. I need him to survive.

His head rises above the surface again, and he sees it, he sees me. With a massive thrust, he pushes himself forward and his fingertips touch the edge of the branch, only to sink below the surface again. I cry freely, begging for him to help himself, to take the branch and get out from under the current.

I run further down the bank.

“Oh, God, oh please, Cy, please,” I beg, crying freely as I hold the branch and watch him surface again. He reaches for it, and this time he grabs hold. I brace myself so I don’t fall in, but it takes everything I’ve got. I see a thin, but sturdy tree hanging over the water, so I grab hold and anchor myself on it when his second hand wraps around the end of the stick.

“You’ve got it!” I scream. “Pull!”

He’s fighting a losing battle, the current washing over his body with so much force it looks painful, but I’m not letting go. It takes every ounce of strength I have, but I’m not letting go. I can’t. I won’t.

He’s holding on and I know I can pull him to shore, I know it. With a surge of adrenaline and a scream that echoes through the woods instantly drowned out by the terrifying crash of the waterfall, I pull with all my might.

They say that when mothers are in situations where their children are in mortal danger, they can move mountains, lift cars, or run at insane speed. It’s the only possible explanation for what I do next. He’s too big for me to lift and the current too strong, but with what feels to be inhuman strength, my heart pounding in my chest so hard and fast I feel it might split open, I haul him to the shore. When he reaches the edge, he grasps the bank, out of the current now. I sob with relief, as I reach down to him, pulling him onto the bank as he hoists himself up. He pants, coughing, on the shore, and I can only hold him, closing my eyes and weeping for the near loss of him. Long minutes pass with him coughing and wheezing and me crying like a baby, when I realize that his left arm hangs uselessly by his side.

“Cy,” I say, wiping a hand across my eyes. “Your arm.”

His eyes are closed and he’s panting, but he nods. A moment later, he opens his eyes and breathes, “Dislocated, I think. Thank you.”

“Of course,” I say to him. “How could I not try to save you?” And in my head, I tell him the words that well in my soul, that I can’t hold back.

I love you.

“Just like you would’ve done for me,” I say, closing my eyes and holding onto him. He’s belly down on a bed of leaves, and I lay my head on his back, my arms around him. “Just like you would’ve done.” I stand with reluctance, not wanting to let him go. “Let’s get you to the shelter. I need to see to your arm.”

I say see to your arm like I will somehow know what to do to fix a dislocated shoulder. I’m no medic, and the very sight of blood makes me squeamish. I shiver at the thought of having to do something revolting like set his arm, but I’ll do what I have to do to make it better for him.

But I’ve grown stronger on this island. I’m not the woman I was before I got here. I have eaten insects and even the disgusting rodents, and turtle soup. I’ve been fucked—repeatedly— by a barbarian of a man.

I will do what I have to.

He gets to his feet, still coughing and sputtering. I let him hold onto me for support as we grab our clothes from the bank and head back to the shelter.

“The knife. Don’t forget the knife,” he says. I grab it and he reaches for it.

He holds it with his good hand and tucks it into the loop at his waist. The walk back seems longer, and more arduous, both of us exhausted after the ordeal.

“It came out of nowhere,” he says in surprise. “One minute I was holding you and the water was still, the next, I was trapped in a current.”

“God. I didn’t know what was happening when you suddenly threw me like that.”


Tags: Jane Henry Savage Island Erotic