I aim the arrow at his heart.
He doesn’t flinch—I doubt even a hurricane sized wind would move him. Langston is testing me, seeing how badly I want to kill him.
I do—I want to be free.
But can Langston really be the first man I kill?
Without another moment to think about it, I let the arrow fly.
The moment the arrow leaves my grasp, I know I’ve made a mistake.
Was the mistake aiming too high?
Or letting the arrow go in the first place?
My eyes have squeezed shut out of instinct. My heart rattles quickly in my chest as my breath whooshes out of my body at the release of the arrow.
The jungle is still and quiet.
I force my eyes open, terrified to see Langston standing but equally afraid to see him lying on the ground.
Langston.
He’s still standing.
The arrow didn’t hit him.
I sigh.
“Is that a sigh of relief or a sigh of anguish?” Langston says with a wide grin like we were just playing a game he won—not one that could end in death.
I ignore his snark.
He pulls the arrow from the tree I hit, just over his left shoulder.
“You’re rusty,” he says as he begins to stride back to me.
I pull another arrow out and aim it at his heart. He’s much closer this time. I wouldn’t miss a second time.
“Or maybe I missed on purpose, realizing that you were lying, and cell service doesn’t work on this barren island.”
He takes another step closer until the arrow is touching his chest. Then he grabs it slowly, his eyes begging to be let into a window of my soul.
“Liar.”
“Scoundrel.”
He grins at that.
“Are you ready to hunt for breakfast now?”
“No.” My hands shake at the thought of killing something on this island with my own hands.
He takes the bow from me. “But so sure you would be able to live with killing me.”
“You deserve death,” I snap back.
He puts the bow and bag of arrows over his shoulder. He looks rugged and woodsman-like, like he could kill any animal that crosses our path. Any human too.