“Death.”
14
Langston
Liesel is going to kill me.
I don’t mean she’s going to stab me in the heart with a knife or shoot me in the head with a gun—no, I mean she’s going to kill me slowly with her luscious lips, her sparkling eyes, her deadly curves. She’s going to break
me down by throwing her alluring body at me and her smart mouth until I give in and spill everything I know.
We both share a secret.
One from when we were children.
I have half of the secret. She has the other.
Neither of us can do anything with the information we have without the other.
But neither of us is willing to share the truth because we don’t want the other to have any power over the other. Once the secret is shared, it will be a battle to solve the puzzle that will lead to the changing of our lives forever.
I used to think that we would never solve the puzzle, never share the secrets. But things have changed, and we no longer have a choice. Time is no longer on our sides.
Liesel doesn’t realize this yet, but she will. She may want to hide the truth, but she doesn’t know that time is running out every day.
I hear Liesel climbing down the stairs of the plane behind me as I walk across the dirt runway. I’m not worried about her running off; there is nowhere for her to run off to. That’s why I chose this island.
I throw a glance over my shoulder anyway, to see what she will do once her feet hit the ground. She thinks I’ll rape her, torture her—she’s not wrong. I’ll do anything it takes to get the truth.
Anything.
That’s how badly I need her to share her secret.
Liesel is right to think I’ll hurt her. She’s only ever seen the worst of me. The worst of me is harsher than the devil himself. I’ve killed more men than Enzo or Zeke combined.
Tortured more people.
Ruined more lives.
You could blame my rough childhood on why I am the way I am, but I don’t. I blame no one. I chose this life. I wanted this life.
Liesel thinks she’s seen the worst of me, but I’m capable of so much more.
Most women would run in a situation like this. Run, flee, hide somewhere on the island to avoid being hurt. Others might search the island for any civilization to help her.
Not Liesel.
She knows the truth of her options. She knows she can run, but she’ll only end up dead from dehydration. She knows that anyone she finds on the island works for me.
She’s right on all accounts.
The only way off this island is death or me.
For now, I’m the lesser of two evils.
Her last option is to fight.
That’s the option she’ll choose, but she will take her time—planning, scouting her options until she knows everything there is to know about the island. Until she thinks I’ve lowered my defenses. Then she’ll strike.