Page 9 of Wayward
“Like what?”
“Expecting your coffee to be cold because you forgot to drink it, but it’s still warm.”
He raises his eyebrow at her, and she smirks back.
“Okay, that’s a minor surprise, but it’s still nice, like seeing a rainbow or a shooting star. Having someone remember and make your favorite meal for you, or having someone bring you a coffee when you didn’t ask for it. Surprises don’t have to be adrenaline-rushing horrible events.”
“Yet they usually are horrible things. Wouldn’t you rather know you’re in control of your surroundings? That’s the perfectideal, really. Knowing what’s going to happen. That you’ll always have what you need when you need it. The Rock Candy having issues? That certainly was a surprise for you.”
Haley has her stew face on. But I know there’s more she wants to say. I can see it in the way her shoulders arch up, the angle of her head. She wants to unload her tank of never-ending optimism on him. But I know the type. He’s got the mini army and the black AmEx card to make the world move the way he wants. She could name a thousand positive little things. Like waking up and listening to a rainstorm in the middle of the rainy season. And thinking you were going to have to check the fish weir in the rain, but then the din of drops on the old metal slows and stops and the sun comes out. Or turning the corner on a trail you’ve taken a hundred times and spotting a new coconut tree laden with ripe fruit. He’s never going to understand. He’s had everything he wanted his entire life. Yeah, I know who Z is . . . he’s who I used to be. Who I never want to be again.
“If you hate surprises so much . . . why don’t you tell us what’s really going on here?” Haley puts her hands on her hips.
“Well, Hal, I might hate surprises, but you both seem to like them so much I think I should keep something for later. Now go. It’s getting to be midday, and the captain wants to be away from the island.” Mr. Z holds out his hand, ushering her down the path.
When we’re back on the path and about to step back into the thick of the jungle, I can’t help but take in the beauty of the waterfall. One last time. Taking in the things I learned here. If I could, I’d . . . I’d never leave. My chest fills with a large breath frozen in my chest. The feelings of this place are what I need. Haley’s what I need.
I need her safe.
Safe.
Fuck.
Hughes presses the muzzle of his gun into the middle of my back. “Move.”
Holloway’s behind him. Harris and Z are in the lead.
I take Haley’s hand; it fits in mine so perfectly. I give it a squeeze and add a wink.
“Move,” Hughes barks again. “You heard Mr. Z.”
“Indeed,” I say. Stepping out, I guide Haley in front of me. Harris’s gun disappears from my back. The stream’s flowing next to us as we trudge back to camp. It’s got to be close to a hundred degrees, but I don’t even feel it anymore. Z’s guards, dressed all in black, have sweat glistening on their faces.
We’re almost past the side trail to one of the boar traps, the one that killed the pirate, when Hughes behind me clears his throat loud enough to make both Haley and me turn.
“Oi, what’s up with the lot of you? I thought she was with the big cranky one?” Hughes asks.
“Hughes,” Holloway growls at him.
Z stops. “That is a good question. I’ll allow it,” he declares, like he’s some sort of judge on a gilded platform. My blood is boiling, and if they come down on Haley . . . If the ass calls her anything but what she is?the love of my life, the most amazing woman on the planet, the soul that saved me from myself?I’m going to end up dead, that’s for sure. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for this woman. I squeeze her hand tightly. But she shakes her head.
“We’re family,” Haley says in a clear voice. Like she’s announcing a menu with no options. End of statement.
“Well, my family doesn’t share a bed,” Hughes says.
“Family,” Z says and starts back up the trail. “You know, whatever worked for you on the island worked for you on the island.” Z doesn’t turn around.
“They will always be my family.” Haley squeezes my hand again, and it ricochets through my body.
Fuck this.
“I love her. We all do.”
“Interesting,” Z says without turning around.
Haley squeezes my hand again. Though there’s a giant hole in my stomach that I’ve opened Pandora’s box. Sure, they already knew, but now I’ve given Z even more to hold over our heads.
Walking through camp, Haley has my hand in a death grip. Her head’s down, staring at her feet. And I get it. It’s so different. Dante’s workstation’s disassembled. The shutters on the treehouse are shut tight. The driftwood tree is empty. Even my sad ornament, that had mostly fallen apart, is gone, packed in Haley’s tub of things.
