Page 62 of Wild for You
“You know I’ve always wanted to fuck a real sea-man.” I waggle my eyebrows, and Jack slaps his lap, despite his pain.
“Saddle up, I may be lame, but my dick hasn’t gotten the memo.”
So I do. Very carefully, we make love by the fire, and as pathetic as we may seem, it’s somehow all I need.
* * *
After makinglove underneath the clear starry sky, we fall asleep, wound in each other’s arms. I was careful of Jack’s right shoulder and his leg. It made for some interesting positioning, but we’re nothing if not resourceful.
I wake to the devil-bird’s squawking cries as the sun begins to rise, and with Jack by my side, I’m not even angry. I just smile to myself, hoping the horny bird saw me get laid last night. Both times actually.
Revenge is sweet.
I nestle into the crook of Jack’s neck, and when I finally open my eyes, I see he’s awake.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
“Good morn—” A wave of nausea interrupts my pleasantries, and I jump to my feet, so I don’t get any vomit on Jack.
“You sure you’re okay?” he calls from behind me.
“Probably not, but it’s my new thing.” I feign with amusement. “You know, you’ve got a fucked up leg, and I just puke all the time.” I return to sit down beside him as I gurgle my water and spit. “I’ve come to accept it.”
“That’s so weird.”
“I know, it just comes out of nowhere—” The faintest sound of something makes me pause, and I look to Jack for confirmation. His eyes are wide, and I know he heard it, too. “Is that a—”
“A helicopter!” He sits up in a rush and hisses, forgetting about his injured leg.
Our heads sweep the sky, searching for the source of the sound, and when I see it, my stomach flutters with adrenaline.
Jack’s pupils nearly black-out his mossy green eyes as he looks at me. “Gwen, this could be our only chance.”
“I’ve got it!” I leap to my feet, not needing him to finish his sentence because I already know what I need to do. We don’t have much time, and I’ve replayed this scenario in my head, dreamed of this every single day we’ve been stuck on this island.
I grab the flare gun, tucking it in my swimsuit top, and run to the cavern to collect the dry, brittle bundles of leaves and emergency water bottle. Then make my way up to the top of the cliff. It’s the best view on the island and our best chance at getting the helicopter’s attention.
Just like the day before, I propel myself up the cliffside, fueled by pure cortisol and adrenaline, ignoring all the aches and pains. I make the climb in record time and gather the bundle of dried leaves. I position my water bottle, but the sun’s being finicky this morning, and the clouds are not helping my cause.
I finally give up on my water bottle and pull out my very last tube of lipstick before grabbing two rocks and slapping them together. Moments pass, and I pray it’s not too late, but when I see the beautiful glow of sparks, I cry in delight. Immediately, the dried leaves catch, and I blow my tiny kindling to life. Before I know it, my fire’s roaring, and I lay out the rest of the leaves to spell out SOS as large as I can on the cliffside.
Hope flares in my chest when I hear the helicopter. It sounds like it’s closer, and I wave my hands in desperation, praying they see my sign. I very carefully aim the flare gun straight up. The shot explodes into the most beautiful signal for help, and I hold my breath as I wait.
I feel the wind from the helicopter before I see it, and when it finally comes into view, I see Maggie’s long red hair blowing around in every direction. I sink to my knees and cry a sob of relief. My guttural cry comes from deep in my bones as the feeling of safety extinguishes the red hot fear from my chest.
We’re saved.
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
Gwen
I can seeMaggie’s beautiful big blue eyes are swollen from crying as she lunges toward the pilot screaming for him to land the helicopter. I’ve actually never climbeddownthe cliffside. Ironically enough, I've had to jump every time I’ve come up here.
Shaking on wobbly legs, I slowly scale my way down the jagged rocks. My foot stumbles, losing its grip, and I slide down several feet before I’m able to catch my grip. A sharp pain shoots through the palm of my hand as blood runs down my arm.
The pain is searing, and I know it’ll probably need stitches, but I manage to keep going, the spark of hope giving me all the energy I need to propel forward.
As soon as my feet hit the ground, I’m running to the beach to meet a frantic Maggie, who’s all but jumped out of the helicopter before it’s even landed.
