Surviving Raine

I sauntered out of the shelter feeling about as fucking pleased with myself as I could possibly be. Raine loved the way I fucked her, loved the shower I made for her, and she loved me. We had everything we needed – shelter, water, plenty of food, and each other. This was my paradise. I had no doubt about that. I was finally starting to feel like maybe this was supposed to happen – maybe I was supposed to end up here, with her. Maybe, by some warped, fucked up twist of fate, she was supposed to be mine.

I walked down to the beach, washed off, walked back up towards the shelter, and stirred up the fire a little. I could hear Raine shuffling around inside, probably pulling whatever was for breakfast out of various baskets. I didn’t care what we were going to eat, or even what she was doing. She was here with me, nestled in our own little haven where I could look after her, keep her safe, and love her.

From behind me, I heard a deep, thunderous sound from off in the distance. I knew what it was immediately. I had heard it dozens of times before, right at the end of tournaments located out in the middle of nowhere. Usually I heard it within a couple of minutes of dropping a lifeless body from my hands. It got louder. Much louder.

Raine came running out of the shelter behind me, still buck naked with her hand raised up over her brows to block the sun from her eyes. The helicopter flew out over the beach, circled around slowly, and came closer to us for another pass. I blinked a couple of times against the bright morning sunshine, focused a little better, and saw a frighteningly familiar hand waving frantically from the side of the craft.

It was John Paul.

We’d been found.

Rescued.

Fuck.

I guess paradise didn’t last forever after all.





Chapter 17 - Shot


“Is that…is that John Paul?”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to keep the feeling of dread washing over me from affecting in my voice. John Paul was waving frantically and screaming something at us, but I couldn’t hear a word he was saying over the noise.

“You should put some clothes on, baby,” I murmured, half in a daze and still staring at the large, black helicopter circling the beach as its pilot tried to figure out the best place to land. She was in the shadows of the coconut palms, for the most part, so I didn’t think her nudity would have been readily obvious from the sky, but they’d be landing soon enough.

“Oh my God!” Raine screeched and ran back into the shelter.

I walked out onto the beach, shielding my eyes as the helicopter blades blew sand all over the fucking place. Standing back out of the way of the blades, I was content to wait for them to stop spinning, or maybe until the occupants decided to change their minds and rise back up into the sky, never to be seen again, but apparently John Paul was not. He leapt out of the vehicle and raced over the sand, ducking slightly to avoid the blades. Suddenly, I was captured in a powerful bear hug and spun around in a circle.

“Holy shit, man!” John Paul screamed into my ear as he spun me around. “I knew it! I knew you weren’t dead! Fuckers didn’t believe me, but I knew you wouldn’t go down – not like that!”

His arms were around my back and crushing my lungs. I could hardly breathe, and all the spinning around in a circle was making me fucking dizzy and completely nauseated. His cowboy hat flew off his head and flopped around in the sand, which at least gave me a better target.

“Fuck, John Paul!” I smacked the back of his head, hard, but it’s not like he noticed. “Breathing is kind of a hobby of mine!”

He dropped me back on the sand but kept his hands on my shoulders. I could breathe again, but the queasy feeling in my stomach stayed with me. It’s not like I wasn’t glad to see him – I mean, I was glad he was alive and appeared to be perfectly healthy. However, that didn’t change the fact that I didn’t want him here. I sure as hell didn’t want him here with a fucking helicopter to ruin what had become my picture-perfect life. If Raine hadn’t already seen him, I might have tried to convince him to just leave quietly.

“You look like a fucking hippie!” he laughed, grabbing the end of my hair in his fist. I punched him on the shoulder and shoved him away from me. He retrieved his hat and fitted it expertly back on his head.

“Fuck you,” I growled. “Do you see a fucking barber shop around here?”

“I think if I had one of those little hair ties, we could make you a ponytail!” John Paul laughed again and then looked over my shoulder. I followed his eyes and watched Raine scurry up towards us, wearing her own shorts and my T-shirt. My fists tightened, and I realized it was because she had chosen to put on her own shorts and not my boxers, and it pissed me off. Ever since I had told her I thought she looked hot in my boxers, she hadn’t worn her own shorts. Why the fuck did she suddenly change into her own clothes?

I knew it would change everything. I fucking knew it. We hadn’t even left the fucking island, and it was already different.

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