Honestly, most of my anxiety came from making sure we were going in the right direction. Not tooting my own horn or anything, but I’m sorta proud of how I was able to track down the coordinates. I used Google maps and freakingmathto get the location based on where I know the island to be—since it’s obviously not listed anywhere. I knew my coordinates wouldn’t beexact, but we stocked the boat with more than enough extra fuel just in case we wound up sailing around aimlessly searching.
But that didn’t happen. My shit was accurate as hell, within about a half-mile.I’d call that a success.
Unfortunately, getting here was only the first part of this excursion. And I’msureit was the easy part.
We dock on the southwest coast of the island, because it’s hidden from sight by a cliff of jagged rocks. Good for us not being spotted, but not good for us now trying to figure out how to get up there. It takes many minutes of hiking and climbing,but eventually we make it. Dash and I are both in good shape and active, so it wasn’t as scary as I’m sure it could’ve been.
Still, it was one of a few fleeting moments, over the course of our travels, where I’ve frozen solid in a spiral of panic andholy fuck, what the fuck am I doing??
Bringing Dascha back here,deliveringhim right into The Ivory’s hands, after doing everything in my power to protect him from this very outcome for months, seems recklessly arrogant, naïve, and just plain fucking stupid.
But then… This is what he wants. More than my own uncertainties, I will do literallyanythingin the world for him, and I’ll do so while ensuring he’s safe and happy because it’s my job.He’s my sole purpose.
So while it is probably pretty foolish to be setting foot on this island again, without the slightest clue what we’re walking into… My only concern continues to be supporting him, while protecting him from harm.
Nothing will hurt Dascha Reznikov. Not as long as I’m breathing.
“Oh, shit!” Dash gasps as someone dives out from behind a tree, grabbing him by the throat.
In a flash, my heart rate spikes, adrenaline taking over with a rage that blinds me. Everything is a blur as I lunge.
“Not another step,” a voice rasps from behind Dash, and all I can see is a dirty hand holding a knife up to my fiancé’s throat.
Dash’s hands are up, eyes wide with fright as I stand, powerless and shaking.
No. No no no no no… this will not happen. I will not let it.
“Move and I slice him open.”
Dash’s brows zip. His head turns as he subtly tries to peek over his shoulder at the person. “Felix??Is that you??”
The knife falls away fast, and Dash whips around. I can now see who was just holding my fiancé at knifepoint. My shoulders drop just a bit.
“God…” The Carver breathes out steadily, taking a slow blink. “Fuck me.”
Then he launches himself at Dash in a different way, hugging onto him so hard Dash nearly topples over. Dash hugs him back, laughing and squealing, lifting Felix Darcey off the ground to spin him around.
It’s very cute, and I’m smiling. The burning fury of someone attacking the love of my life theliteral secondwe stepped onto this goddamn island—and my immediate failing of myonejob—melting into the warmth of this heartfelt reunion.
I know Dash misses his friends like crazy. Even before shit went dark here, when he would call every week just to talk to them, I could feel the longing myself. The way his happiness could only ever climb so high, because he couldn’t actually be with them.
I’ve missed the people here myself. Joy, Peters and Hancock…Shit, even Velle.When I worked here, I never in a million years thought I’dmissJohn Chevelle.
But here I am…Eagerto see him, and make sure he’s okay. All of them.
Glancing around to see if he, or Rook or Joy, are about to come sneaking out of the woods too, looking like the kids fromLord of the Flies.
“I’m so happy to see you,” Dash whimpers, still clutching his serial killer bestie.
“Me… t-too,” Felix stammers, emotion shaking his voice.
Tears well in his eyes when Dash finally releases him and he gazes up at him from behind black-framed glasses, lenses all smudged and dirty.
The kid is fuckingfilthy. His clothes look like they were probably once a color other than brown, but now they’re so matted with mud, you can barely see the fabric. He has black smeared on his face, leaves and twigs all in his hair.
Dash looks him over, cringing at the dirt now staining his own clothes. “Are you… What the hell is going on??”
“I’m sorry, Dash.” Felix drops his face. “I’msosorry! I swear, I wasn’t trying to hurt you! I’ve been out here for so long, and this island is crawling with cartel guys, so I just…” He pauses to shake his head, giving Dash a puppy dog pout that’s pretty hilarious if you know the context—that he’s a vicious serial murderer.“Fuck, I should’ve known it was you. From the hair…”
