CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Dinner was another lazy mess of a meal. Dex threw some of the bacon he had made earlier into some penne pasta and called it a day. That was fine with me. I should have been absolutely starving from the day’s events, not to mention the constant battering from the weather but by the time the dish was in front of me, I could barely bring myself to eat it.
He also made some coffee to keep ourselves us warm; of course, we mixed the coffee with Jack Daniels and creamer. Sounds disgusting but it took the edge off while sharpening my mind at the same time.
We sat in relative silence, one more uncomfortable than usual. Dex flipped through the books about the island, though I could see from his ADD eyes that he wasn’t really absorbing anything in. His mind was elsewhere.
So was mine. It was Mary I kept thinking about. And why not? Whether Dex saw me talking to myself or not, the fact was Mary had been there. I had felt her. I could hear her voice in my head. The details of her skin. The cracks in her one lens.
If Mary and John had a child together, why did John tie her up in the woods? Sure, I could understand the scandal. But so would Mary. Why would John do something like that to the mother of his child? Then again, Mary had called him her “friend.” Not her boyfriend or husband or partner. There was so much more to this that I needed to know.
Especially if John and this San person were here on the island. If John could switch markers around, couldn’t he harm me or Dex? If he was as solid as Mary and really meant to keep us here, what could we do to stop him? He could be watching us right now, hidden in the shadows of the trees, away from the light of our lantern.
A shiver violently rocked my body at the thought.
“What’s wrong?” Dex asked quietly. He had put the book down and was looking at me intently.
“Can’t seem to get warm,” I mumbled, pulling my jacket in tighter around me. I had changed two times already and it just seemed to be a revolving closet of dampness.
“No. What’s really wrong?” he asked, his tone serious. “You look scared to death.”
Did I? I shrugged, trying to play it off. “That’s nothing new.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“What aren’t you telling me?” I turned it around.
He leaned forward across the table and clasped his hands, fire burned somewhere behind his pupils. “What do you want to know?”
I pursed my lips and thought about it. What did I want to know? How did I explain a feeling?
“I want to know what you’re thinking about me. I feel like you’re making all these assumptions about me in your head. It’s like you’re afraid to talk me about them.”
“I feel the same way.”
I gave him a look. “Come on.”
He leaned back and took a straight shot of Jack Daniels out of the bottle. “Maybe we should play truth or dare again.”
“Maybe you just give me the truth. You saw me talking to myself on the beach and now you think I’m nuts, is that it?”
“That’s part of it. Also the fact that you rushed into the ocean this morning to save a little girl who wasn’t there.”
“Fine then. I’m nuts. That should be the least of your concerns.”
He squinted at me, thinking. “I care about you. I care about you an awful lot.”
His voice was gentle and sincere. His words made my heart thump, made a rush of pins and needles appear at my finger tips.
He reached out and grabbed my hand. I watched him, wide eyed.
“And because I care about you, I care about you. I don’t… like I said earlier, I’m worried about what this island is doing to you.”
“It’s not about me. It’s about you too. There are people here, sabotaging us, right?”
“Flipping markers, slashing the Zodiac?”
“Sure.”
“You don’t believe that. You know something that I don’t and it’s driving me crazy.” He squeezed my hand hard, till I felt the blood run out.
“Ow,” I squeaked and tried to take my hand away from his. He held on and leaned even further forward, his head blocking the light of the lantern.
“What are you hiding from me?” he whispered, his dark eyes roaming all over my face in crazed search for answers. “Who were you talking to? What did you see?”
I wanted to tell him. I wanted to let him know about Mary and what she said but I was too afraid. I couldn’t let him in. I felt like it was my secret and one he wouldn’t understand even if he let himself believe it. I don’t know why I was seeing these things and he wasn’t, but without him seeing Mary and Madeleine himself, I just couldn’t trust what he was going to do with the information.
“Please, just tell me what you’re thinking, Perry. What is going on in that head of yours?” He reached over and tenderly caressed my head with his other hand. It felt nice. But it wasn’t nice enough. Funny how things had changed. It was only a month or two ago that I had met Dex for the first time and had asked him the exact same things about himself.
My eyes felt dead. I gave him the corresponding look.
“I’m cold. I think I’m turning in.” I yanked my hand out from his and started to get up.
He actually looked hurt. Hurt and frightened. It only last lasted a second but it was enough for me to see. A twinge of guilt flashed on my conscience but I brushed it aside. He was a big boy. Time for him to wonder about some things for a change.
“Perry,” he called after me as I rounded the table. “We are leaving first thing in the morning.”
Good luck with that, I thought, and got in the tent.
I didn’t bother brushing my teeth or taking off my makeup. I just wanted to go straight into the bed and put the day behind me. I quickly changed into my pajamas, which were, thankfully, still quite dry, and attempted to get in my sleeping bag.
It was wet. Soaked through with dampness.
“Ugh,” I cried out. I had spread it out hoping it would have dried but I guess being put in the sleeping bag earlier when I was soaking wet was too much for it.
Dex poked his head in the tent, bringing the lantern inside with him.
“What’s wrong?”
“The sleeping bag is soaked.” I felt deflated. Now what? Was I going to sleep on the picnic table?
“Get in my sleeping bag,” he said, coming in and zipping the tent shut behind him.
“Where are you going to sleep then?”
“In my sleeping bag?” he asked, putting the lantern down and taking off his jacket. “It’s big enough for two.”
Amazingly, the idea of sharing a sleeping bag with Dex sounded like a terrible idea. There was a weird distance between us that I wanted to keep. I didn’t want to be up close and personal with him. I didn’t want to cave in.
He started to take off his pants. I wasn’t sure what to do. I looked away.
“Oh geez, kiddo. When did you become such a prude?” he joked. I looked back at him. He was already in his pajama pants and slipping a shirt over his head. “We’ll be warmer this way anyway. I think it’s going to get really cold tonight and you’ve had a rough day.”
I nodded absently and made my way into his sleeping bag. Once I was all settled in, he crawled over, grinning.
“What’s so funny?” I asked, already feeling the shivers from the cold. He was right about that at least.
“You’re funny,” he said coming in beside me. The sleeping bag was barely big enough for two. We definitely couldn’t both lie on our backs beside each other. So he climbed on top of me, propped up on his elbows on either side of my shoulders.
I thought I was going to die from awkwardness. He was literally on top of me, holding the sides of my face in his hands, grinning at me with that stretched joker smile of his, only inches away from my face. He smelled like minty gum and smoke.
“Relax,” he whispered. “You’re as stiff as a board.”
No, I thought, you’re as stiff as a board. Which was true, I could feel that against my legs. I almost laughed at the thought. It was enough for a smile to creep on my lips.
“There you go,” he said lazily. He brought his face closer to mine. “Getting warmer?”
“Don’t you think this is a little inappropriate?” I asked, my words coming out like poured concrete.
He raised his brow, lowered his voice, “Would you rather be in a wet sleeping bag? Because you can trade inappropriateness for that.”
“You are such a tease,” I whispered, wishing he would stop looking at me like he was, all languidly, like a sun–soaked lizard or a playful cat.
“Takes one to know one,” he shot back.
“That’s mature.”
His smile started to fade. I don’t think it was over what I said. His expression became more serious. He brushed the hair off of my forehead with his hand, slowly bringing it across, grazing my skin. I wondered if he could feel my heart against his. It was pounding away like a marching band.
I had to stay strong. I didn’t know what his game was, but I couldn’t let myself give into it.
“Good night, Dex,” I said, sounding more throatily than I had hoped.
He kept staring at me in that strange way. Determined yet seductive. Confused and concerned. Then he said, “Good night, Perry” and rolled off of me. We both had to sleep in a spooning position. But with my back to him and his arm draped over my waist, his breath tickling the nape of my neck, this was fine with me.
*