Page 30 of Guarded from Havoc

On the side that touches the water.

The side that beckons to me, offering freedom.

My body wants to move; to race to the water and fling myself in. To do anything to get away from the horrors we just left. But I force myself to stay still, knowing the battle isn’t over yet.

Dragging my gaze from the water, I look up and down the stretch of beach just ahead of us. We’re standing in tall grass,just high enough to cover my knees. The sand is speckled with thousands of small rocks, rolled smooth from the waves crashing over them.

The beach curves in a slight semicircle, with a thicket of woods at one end and a steep cliff at the other. Aside from me and Erik, there’s no obvious sign of anyone else around.

Beside me, Erik is on high alert, scanning our surroundings. He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me into his side, holding me with a firm but gentle grasp. His muscles are rigid, flexed, poised to move, and I know without him saying anything that if danger does come our way, he’ll leap into action to protect me.

In profile, I’m struck by how handsome he is. The sun catches the gold streaks in his spiky brown hair and casts his features with light, picking up the strong lines and angles. A few-days-old stubble dusts his jaw, and beneath it, I can see a muscle working. My attention drops to his biceps again, to the intricate design of patterns there, and I can’t help but wonder what they all mean.

Should I be standing here admiring my unexpected guardian instead of helping to figure out a plan of escape? Probably not.

But darn it, I deserve this. Because one thing this whole experience has driven home is how fleeting life can be.

I knew it before. How could I not after losing both my parents within years of each other? But this is different. This isn’t a sad but natural death due to illness, or, in my dad’s case, a broken heart. This is violent. Unpredictable.

I could have been that man with the spear through his chest. It could have been me laying in a spreading pool of blood, my final sight the hints of sky beyond the trees.

So I’m taking my enjoyment where I can get it. And if that means subtly ogling Erik for a second, I’m doing it. If he notices, so what?—

“Tatum.” Erik looks over at me, his brows raised in question. “Are you okay?” He stops. His lips twist. “Sorry. Of course you’re not okay. What I mean is, are you good enough to continue? Or do you need a minute?”

All my inner proclamations about openly admiring Erik are great until I’m caught red-handed, staring at him. Or red-eyed, as it is.

My cheeks heat as I fumble for something to say. “Um. I’m fine. Good. Great.”

“Great?” He gives me a curious look. “Well. That’s good. I’m glad. But I think we should probably figure out a plan.” He glances around again. “It looks like there’s a small island about sixty degrees to our right. Maybe… three quarters of a mile from here. It’s a bit far, though. And we don’t know how cold the water is…”

“If we’re looking at the Atlantic,” I say, “which I think we are, then the water’s got to be cold. Probably in the mid fifties. Unless we’re somehow further south, in which case it’ll be warmer. Which would be nice. I guess we’ll have to check.”

Erik hesitates, his brow creasing as he thinks. “I don’t disagree with you. But I admit I’m a little concerned about swimming that far. First, because of the cold. And second, once we’re out there, there’s no hiding if someone comes after us.”

“What about your team?” I glance around, searching for any cameras. But out here on the beach, there’s no place to hide them. And with the crashing of the waves, I’m fairly certain our voices can’t be heard clearly, even if there was.

“I’m certain they’re coming,” he replies. “It’s just a matter of how long it takes them to get here.”

“How do you know? I mean, not to cast doubt, but are yousure?”

“I’m sure.” He glances at his ring before returning his gaze to mine. “Everyone who works for my company has a ring with a GPS tracker in it. Just in case something happens.”

“How do they know?—”

“There’s a little button underneath. If I press it, it triggers an alert that lets my team know I’m in trouble. I hit it last night, shortly after the men broke into the cabin.”

“Then why is it taking so long?” I blurt out. “Shouldn’t they have gotten here already?”

Erik frowns. “I would have hoped so. But we don’t know how long it took to get to… wherever we are. If we were taken directly or a roundabout route. If my friends had to zigzag from one airport to the next, it could take a while to get here.”

“Okay.” I’m still not one hundred percent convinced his team is coming, no matter what Erik says. It’s not that I don’t trust him, but these other people? The ones who haven’t gotten here yet? I’m not sold on the promise of them arriving to rescue us.

I don’t tell Erik that, though. Instead, I ask, “Do you think hiding in the woods over there”—I angle my chin to our left—“would be better? Or making a swim for the island?”

But before he can respond, another idea hits me. “Or,” I continue, “if there’s a camera out here somewhere, watching us, what if we create a diversion? Swim into the water like we’re heading to the island, but follow the shore instead, then sneak into the woods to hide? Then if someone is watching us, they’ll be searching for us out there and not here.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Erik replies. “I’d like to test the water first, just to make sure it’s not colder than we think. The last thing I want is for you to get hypothermia.”

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