I clutch onto his shirt as he envelops me in his warmth. His presence is like the sunrise breaking through the dark of night. My body starts to shake with sobs, but Colton doesn’t pull away. Instead, he lowers his head and kisses my forehead. I don’t question his motive; I just lean into him, needing him at this moment.
Eventually, he pulls back from our embrace, and his hands make their way down my shoulders and arms. “Are you hurt?”
For some reason, I shake my head. “I don’t think so … maybe just my cheek and my ankle and maybe my back.”
“Just?” He pushes back a strand of blood-soaked hair clinging to my face.
I manage a short watery laugh.
Colton tilts his head upward, and that’s when I notice the second form standing above us on the cliff. I flinch seeing the familiar outline of the figure.
“Tearjerker. Get the medical team. Now,” Colton growls. “And tell the others I’ve got her.”
I hear the sound of shoes pounding the jungle floor as Tearjerker leaves the ridge. The familiar scene reminds me of the way he left me earlier. I shudder at the thought, tears once again appearing.
Colton shifts, carefully moving a sturdy arm behind my back while his other arm scoops beneath my knees. Then he stands, cradling my body. “Shh. I’m here. I’ve got you.” His head leans closer to mine as he carries me through the darkness. “I’ve got you, Missy Jean. I’ve got you.”
Chapter 17
COLTON
· DAY 12 ·
I gently set Missy down on the starting line of Mayday Challenge Three. She gingerly leans on her non-booted foot as I stabilize her with my right hand on her back. Briefly, I look down the row of competitors and find we are the last team to arrive at this challenge located in the jungle, nearly a half mile from base camp. Other than Joseph and Tyrone from Team Lime, who are currently exempt from the challenge, thanks to the game booster they’d found, everyone else is here—even Tearjerker, who dares to smile in my direction. There is no remorse in his eyes over what he did to Missy two days ago. Instead, his eyes gleam with satisfaction.
Heat surges through my veins, remembering how I’d found Missy hurt and alone on the jungle floor. Tearjerker had left her there, then callously came back to base camp to raid her backpack alongside Silver.
I’d entered the plane that night thinking I’d find Missy fast asleep, but instead, I’d accidentally stepped on one of Missy’s personal items—a picture of The Red Curtain. It was one of several personal belongings in Missy’s backpack carelessly strewn across the plane’s sandy floor. Next to the picture of The Red Curtain, Missy’s lucky seashell lay broken in two. Seeing Missy’s personal items rummaged through and handled with such carelessness was one thing, but seeing the broken shell, something so cheerful, so Missy, severed in half—it triggered something deep inside me.
I’d snatched Missy’s bag from Silver and Tearjerker’s hands, a pit forming in my stomach. I knew Missy wouldn’t have left it out in the open for anyone to go through; she hadn’t let her bag out of her sight since our stuff had been stolen on the first night, which made me wonder where she was.
Silver instantly fled the scene like a pillaging rodent, and I nearly turned into Liam Neeson, prying Missy’s whereabouts from Tearjerker. He’d admitted to separating Missy and her backpack in hopes he would find the pilot’s wing game booster from one of the Reward Challenges hidden in her bag. I’d ditched the negotiation skills my dad had drilled into me since I was a boy and dove right into intimidation tactics. I didn’t care if I got a lecture from Dad when I got home; this was Missy, and I wasn’t going to let Tearjerker hurt her. With Bill and Joseph’s help, we cornered Tearjerker until he admitted where she was, only to find Missy in the same shape as her lucky seashell, broken and abandoned.
With a scraped-up back and face, as well as a badly swollen and bruised ankle, it’d been deemed necessary by theSunsetsand Sabotagemedical team for Missy to rest for an entire day, taking her out of yesterday’s Reward Challenge. Yet, even though her dreams were at stake and her foot was throbbing, she’d remained positive. But the only thing I was positive about was that Tearjerker had to go.
A horn blares through the jungle, triggering the start of the third Mayday Challenge. All of the competitors look down at the watches we’ve been given specifically for this challenge. We each have three minutes to get into gear and find a starting place and ten minutes for an all-out paintball war. The team with the most paintball splatters found on their person will automatically be part of tonight’s Black Box Elimination, while the team with the least will be rewarded with an upgrade or the ability to sabotage another team.
I hurry, throwing on the padded clothing that is folded in a neat pile at my feet. Next to me, everyone else does the same. I shove a pair of black tactical pants over the top of my shoes and swim trunks, buttoning the pants before shrugging on a thick black jacket with a single teal stripe running down the length of the arms. I ignore the mask on the ground and the paintball gun, or what is called a marker, and turn to Missy.
She’s managed to unlatch her bulky foot brace and get her injured leg into one side of the black pants, but when it’s time to switch legs, she has difficulty shifting her weight to her bad foot to get her second leg through. Wordlessly, I scoop an arm behind Missy’s back. She leans on me, stabilizing herself as we both work to get her second foot into her pant leg while minimizing the amount of time spent putting pressure on her bruised ankle.
She buttons her pants over her swim shorts, and I quickly crouch down and relatch her foot brace. I turn my head, catching Tearjerker just before he tugs his face mask over his head. Unlike Missy, he’s no longer wearing any bandages. Crossing right in front of us, Tearjerker has the audacity to wave at me, acocky smirk on his lips. I barely refrain from decking him right here, right now.
Once Tearjerker sets off into the woods, he’s followed shortly by Heartbreaker, then Teams Amber and Fuchsia, making Missy and me last to search out a good starting place. Grabbing Missy’s jacket, I hold it up for her and she hastily weaves her arms through. Then I grab her marker and mask as well as my own and crouch down in front of Missy, ready to piggyback her through the jungle.
“You good?” I ask Missy as she wraps her arms around my shoulders and squeezes my waist with her legs.
“Yep. Hup hup, Colton Downing.” With her good foot she taps the side of my leg with her heel like I’m a horse, and I can’t help but laugh, amazed she’s so chipper given everything she’s gone through.
She had every reason to go home after her fall in the jungle. But instead, she looked me in the eyes and said, “Let’s win this thing. I didn’t get hurt for nothing.” It was so very Missy. So positive, so eager, so carefree, but this time, I saw something different behind her happy-go-lucky attitude. There was hurt in her eyes. A hurt she was using to push herself forward. It made me wonder if, after all of this time, I might have been wrong about her.
With drones overhead and Missy on my back, I run as far as I can in the time we have left and find a tree that is perfect for the strategy Missy and I came up with on our gallop over here. The tree has large knobby roots, wide branches, and thick green leaves. Behind it is a wide neon rope tied around various trees in the jungle, marking the perimeter of our two-acre paintball game.
“Perfect,” Missy says as I ease her to the ground next to the tree. “It’ll give me coverage from the back, and then I’ll just aimand shoot.” She says this as if she’s played paintball a thousand times before.
“You’ve never played, have you?”
“Nope, but I’ve never said no to trying.” Missy beams at me, making the bandage across her left cheek crinkle.
