“Go as fast as this fucking boat will take us, Ace. Now.”
He nods and I hate that sympathetic look on his face. I hate it because I know what he’s thinking. He thinks she’s going to die. He thinks this is the end for her.
It can’t be the fucking end.
It can’t.
Not when we’re so close to freedom.
18
WILLOW
There are voices, so many of them. I can hear them, but I can’t open my eyes. I’m not in any pain, I can’t feel anything at all come to think of it. Maybe it was all just a dream. Maybe I didn’t land in the water so hard it broke my ribs. Maybe I didn’t get hit in the head with a flying rock. Maybe we never left for that island. Maybe I’m imagining all of this, and it was just a nightmare.
“She’s stirring.”
It’s a familiar voice, Ava maybe. Are we home? Am I safe? Is this a dream? Maybe I’m dead.
God, am I dead?
Are we all dead?
“Willow. Hey, can you hear me?”
Mom?
I must be dead.
“Willow, come on honey. Open up.”
I’m trying, I really am trying. I want to scream and tell them I’m trying but my body isn’t working. I focus all my attention on opening my damned eyes, and finally they move. As soon as the air touches them, they burn, and I clamp them shut with a wince.
“She opened them!”
Definitely Ava.
Maybe I’m not dead.
She makes it sound like this is a massive thing, me opening my eyes.
“Call the doctor.”
A moment later, someone is pulling my eyelids open and shining a torch into them.
Jesus!
“She’s moving her hands, too. These are all very good signs.”
That voice is unfamiliar.
“Willow, honey, it’s Ava. Open up.”
I force my eyes open again, but they burn. It feels like a million tiny pieces of sand have been in there, scratching the surface for weeks on end.
“I’ll put some moisture in them. They’re likely burning.”
A moment later someone is playing with my eyelids again and opening them to drop tiny cool drops into my eyes. Oh, that feels nice. The next time I try to open my eyes, it doesn’t burn so much. I blink and blink, trying to clear my blurred vision. When I manage to make out shapes, I can see a girl leaning over me. Ava.
“Oh God, oh thank God. Honey, are you okay? Hey, it’s me.”
“Oh, my baby is ok.”
“Mom, don’t get in her face.”
That was Jenny.
They’re all here. All of them, except one. Where is Jagger? Why can’t I hear his voice? Is he dead? Did he not make it out? He came back for me. He came back and now he could be gone.
I open my mouth to speak but only a croaked “Jagger” comes out.
“He’s ok honey, they’re all ok.”
Relief floods through me. Ava grips my head and gently puts a straw in my mouth. I suck and the cool water soothes my aching throat. The doctor leans over me and begins asking me stupid questions like ‘what’s your name’ and ‘where do you live?’ I answer them all in a croaky voice, but I don’t care about that. I want to see my son and my fiancé.
“Jagger,” I say again, my voice hoarse. “I want to see him.”
“He’s just gone home,” Ava explains. “He’ll be back in about half an hour, he has barely left your side. If it wasn’t for Cody, we wouldn’t have been able to get him to.”
“Is he hurt?”
“He got shot, but he’s ok.”
“How long have I been here?” I ask, my vision clearing more and more with every passing second.
“A week,” Jenny answers.
A week? God, what happened?
“What...happened?”
My mother sits on the bed beside me, and I stare up at her, shocked to actually see her here. She takes my hand and Jenny sits beside me, too, stroking my hair. Ava stands beside her.
“The island was destroyed, and when you hit the water, you were injured. Jagger stitched you up on the boat ride home. The doctor said he quite possibly saved you because you’d lost so much blood. They got back and Ace brought you to the hospital...”
“Wait,” I whisper. “Why did Ace bring me?”
They all stare at each other.
“Tell me,” I gasp.
“Jagger went to find Mick, he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He thought he had lost you and he was angry, the kind of anger you can’t change his mind on. There was a massive shootout. Jagger got shot again. Mick lost his life. Huck called the police and had Sharleen arrested, Mary, too. Huck has a lot of evidence against Mick, and enough to make sure the two women go away for a long time.”
Mick is dead?
Did Jagger kill him?
“I want to see him,” I whisper. “Call him.”
“Honey...”
“Please,” I grind out.
Ava nods and pulls out her phone, dialing Jagger.
“Hey, she’s awake.”
She nods a few times, then says goodbye. She takes my hand and smiles.