Page 2 of Shielding Lexi (Temptation)

“What if I have a concussion, though? I don’t remember anything. I could need medical hel—”

“We’ll make sure you keep breathing,” the oldest says, twisting toward the fridge for a beer. He pops off the cap and takes a swig.

Surely something is amiss. If they weren’t being shady, they’d have called for help by now. But I don’t want to argue. I need to save my energy for running, swimming, boat stealing, whatever it takes to get off this island.

“Um, okay, I guess. But, I need the bathroom,” I answer.

The youngest of the three steps forward, holding out his hand to help me up. “I’m Hawk,” he says with a broad smile as he tosses his hair back. “I’m the one who found you. Give me your hand and I’ll take you to the bathroom.” I nod gratefully and peel back the blanket, kicking my legs over the edge of the couch. I try to stand, but before my feet touch the floor, my head spins, and I feel lightheaded. I also realize I’m dressed in a tiny black bikini.

Was I swimming somewhere? Did my boat sink? Who was I with?

As I strain to remember something… anything… Hawk bends down to help me up by threading his arm around my waist. The others are watching me closely as I brace myself against him. He’s strong, steady, and moves slowly as he guides me to the restroom. All the while, my eyes study the cabin. I take note of the front door, the back slider, the window just above the couch, the smaller window above the kitchen sink, the shelf of knives beside the stove. I might need this information.

I close the door to the bathroom and take my time. It’s clean, I’ll give them that. If they were criminals, they’d be too busy doing crimes to clean their bathroom, right? I laugh to myself at the ridiculousness of this whole thing, then look in the mirror.

My blonde hair is knotted and frizzed, and my face is rough with stiff salt and sand. I twist on the knob to the sink and wait for the water to warm before pumping a handful of soap to scrub my skin clean.

“You okay in there?” Hawk asks, knocking on the door.

Is he standing watch? What the hell? I suck in a deep breath. Maybe he’s just worried I’d fall. I was dizzy when I stood up.

“I’m good. Be out in a second,” I say, reaching for a towel to dry my hands and face. It’s not much, but I think I’ll need about six gallons of water before I take a shower. Besides that, I want to stretch my legs. They’re aching something awful.

I crack the bathroom door back open, and Hawk helps me to the couch, easing me down gently, sitting down beside me.

“What’s your name?” he asks, turning toward me. “Do you know?”

My hand flies to my temple and I rub it, seeking some kind of clarity, but none comes. I shake my head, trying to stem back tears that threaten to spring free. I don’t want to look weak in front of these guys. But, I’m genuinely scared now. Why don’t I remember my name?

“I don’t know,” I sniff. “I don’t remember much of anything.”

“It’s okay,” he answers, and his blue eyes twinkle with warmth. “You’re safe, it’s okay.” He looks toward the grumpiest of the men who’s sat in the kitchen now eating a sandwich. “Can you get her a glass of juice and a few cookies? I bet her blood sugar is low.”

The angry looking man stays stoic and stands from his chair, scraping the legs as he pulls back.

Is he mad that I’m eating his food? Is he angry that I’m here at all? A million questions run through my mind as he disappears into the kitchen.

“Don’t mind him,” Hawk says, bumping my arm with his. “He’s a big softie. Looks intimidating, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly. Would yell at one… but wouldn’t hurt him.” Sure, so you say. I reckon he picks the wings off butterflies before he goes to sleep at night.

I nod slowly and lick my dry, cracked lips, feeling the stink of the salt I’d stirred in the bathroom seep inside. I really don’t want him to yell at me either.

A second later, he makes his way toward me with store bought chocolate chip cookies and orange juice. I don’t remember a thing, but I know those things do not go together.

“Thank you,” I whisper before gulping down the juice greedily. I’ve been so distracted since I woke up, I didn’t realize I was this hungry.

Hawk looks toward me and smiles, stealing a chocolate chip cookie from the bag. He’s cute and I feel a bit of a connection with him, though it’s too soon to tell if he’s just really good at kidnapping or if he’s an actually good guy.

“Knock it off,” the grumpy man says, looking toward Hawk, who has his large meaty fist in the cookie bag, making it crinkle noisily. I feel like a naughty teen at the back of the movie theater being yelled out by old people for making too much noise.

Kane’s ears perk and he twists back from the kitchen table to see what the commotion is about.

“Knock what off?” Hawk asks, sliding another cookie through his lips. He eats them whole, in one bite.

“You know damn well what.” The man stands from the table and stalks toward Hawk, gripping his arm until he’s standing. My stomach clenches and suddenly I don’t feel so hungry.

“Reaper!” Hawk growls, pulling his arm away. “Get a fucking grip.”

I ball my knees up on the couch and try not to look as scared as I feel, but with a name like Reaper, something tells me this guy has a story to tell.

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