Page 107 of Hard Luck (Blackstone House)

“Exactly. And there’s fuck all else to do here apart from eating coconuts and getting bitten by mosquitoes. Not everyone is lucky enough to wash ashore with a bunch of FedEx boxes.”

Fair point, except… “I don’t carry condoms in my dive kit.”

“Is now a good time to tell you I get Depo shots?”

Damn, this island was a weird mix of heaven and hell. If it weren’t for his missing boat, Cole might almost be happy to spend a few weeks here. Oh, and the curse. Don’t forget the curse.

“You’re killing me here.”

Bella sank to her knees, the light-heartedness gone, the air turning heavy. She cupped his face in her hands.

“I’d never harm you, I swear.”

“I know, beautiful. I was just joking around.”

“But I’m not. Promise you’ll remember that.”

“Okay, sure, I promise.” This conversation had taken a real weird turn. “You want to go explore?”

Bella’s smile was a tiny flicker, but it was there. “I want to check out the prison.”

Cole rose to his feet and held out a hand. “Breakingintoa prison? That’ll be new.”

“You take me on the best dates. Shame we don’t have a YouTube channel.”

A groan escaped. At least the battery on Cole’s camera had run out, so nobody could get tempted to record this horror show for posterity.

“Don’t. I can’t think of anything worse.”

Bella grinned as she led him to the back of the cave. “Me neither.”

CHAPTER 38

JEZEBEL

Skeleton Cay was roughly circular and a little over a mile across, although it felt much bigger when you were fighting your way through trees and bushes and vines. I’d have given my Porsche for a machete at that moment.

All I had was my dive knife, which was only four inches long, and Cole didn’t even have a knife because Jon had borrowed it out of his BCD pocket and “forgotten” to return it. I suspected he’d taken it on purpose. If there had been a problem on the dive, if we’d returned to the boat early, they didn’t want us fighting back. Guess they hadn’t even thought aboutmyknife. But I was a woman. Therefore, I wasn’t a threat.

“Shoulda stayed on the sandbar,” Cole muttered, followed by a string of expletives as he got tangled in something spiky. Ever the gentleman, he’d insisted on going first. Despite the shortie wetsuits we were wearing, we were both covered in scrapes and scratches, and mosquitoes trailed us like tiny drones.

“At least we have water here.”

When Priest sent me on my first jungle survival coursewith Tulsa, Dusk, and Dice, I’d spent the entire trip cursing his name, but now I was grateful. Because as soon as Cole and I emerged into the sunshine, I’d recognised the pointed leaves ofVitis tiliifolia, also known as the water vine. I’d chopped into the woody stems with my knife, and we’d savoured the water that trickled out as if it were Château Lafite.

“How did you know which vine to cut, anyway?” he asked.

“Whenever I can’t sleep, I like to watch the Nature channel.”

The lies were getting harder. Until I met Cole, bullshitting my way through life had been a breeze.

We were heading for the prison, which sat on a rise at the south end of the island like a mini Alcatraz. The stone walls of the hulking cellblock had turned dark with age, and the walls were half covered with greenery—moss, more vines, and tiny bushes whose roots had burrowed into whatever cracks they could find. There were two smaller buildings to the left, and if I had to guess, I’d say the larger one was the barracks where the guards used to live, and the smaller one was for storage or possibly a workshop. The highest point on the island was the old water tower to the right. At this rate, we’d reach it in approximately three years.

“Hey, I think there’s an animal track,” Cole called from ahead of me.

I quickly caught up. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Why would it be a bad thing?”

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