Unseen Messages(37)

Her voice sailed back, snapping with authority. “Conner, Pippa. Come on!”

The kids grabbed the remaining scattered items by their feet and dashed to catch up. Conner looked back. “You coming?”

I grinned, even though I felt like swearing. “Yep. Right behind you.”

“Cool.” Taking his sister’s hand, they vanished.

The second they’d gone, every emotion that I’d spent the last few years running from suffocated me. Hatred, loneliness, regret, and most of all...terror.

I didn’t do well on my own.

But I didn’t do well with others, either.

I wasn’t hardwired right for society, and suddenly, society had thrown me away. I had no one.

No, that wasn’t true.

I had three invaluable people who’d gone from strangers to my entire world.

They were all the company I had.

The only people I could rely on.

My skin itched and the familiar urge to run consumed me.

Come back.

Don’t leave me.

I’m sorry.

.............................

“I’m impressed. You’re still here.”

My head shot up as Estelle returned, minus the kids and whatever supplies she’d had. In her hands rested a large stick. Moving closer, she eyed my leg, slowly dancing her eyes over my crotch, waist, and face.

I couldn’t deny having her eyes on me made me hard.

Did she like what she saw? Did she see the real me? The me I’d chained deep, deep inside? The me that died the day I became a monster?

I flexed my bicep like a moron, hoping to impress. I made an effort to stay in shape—not because of egotistical reasons but because it was a necessity. Working with timber and building on a daily basis demanded strength and stamina.

Not that sculpted muscles will impress her when I can’t bloody walk!

I took a deep breath, doing my best to stay calm. Sitting still, chained to pain and unable to move, hadn’t put me in the best of moods. “I thought you’d forgotten about me.” I wiped away the copious amounts of sweat from my brow. I didn’t relish the thought of moving somewhere where the sun would cook me, but I did crave the ocean breeze.

“It took longer than I thought to find the stick.”

“I told you not to worry about it.”

“And I told you that you had half an hour to turn off the douche-bag agenda and be nice.”

“I’m always nice.”

“Ha!”

We glared at each other. Her chest strained and her breaths came in shallow spurts.

I pointed at her chest. “Instead of trying to find half a tree to tie to my leg, you should’ve strapped your ribs.”

“Don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself.”

“I could say the same about you.”

Another stalemate.

Without the kids, the freedom to speak frankly untied the gag around my vocal cords. I let loose. “Who exactly are you, anyway? You’re hurt—just as much as the rest of us—yet you’ve taken control and put yourself in charge. Who made you—”

“I didn’t want to put myself in charge. Do you think I enjoy this? That I wanted to find myself in a situation where two children lost their parents and now look to me to make it better? If anything, I wish you were—” She snapped her lips together, but her eyes glowed with what she wanted to hurl.

“That I wasn’t such a loser and could take over. Is that what you were going to say?”

She tore her gaze away, balling her hands.

I wanted to curse her. All the questions I needed answers to demanded to be shouted, but I couldn’t do that to her. Not now. She wanted comfort, just like the rest of us. But she wouldn’t find comfort from me because I didn’t know how to offer it. All I knew how to do was screw up an already screwed-up situation.

“Look, I’m sorry.” Rubbing my eyes, I wished I had my glasses so at least something would be right in my world. I hated the fuzzy lines and shadowy colours. I could make out Estelle’s features well enough, but she wasn’t in high definition and it strained.

She didn’t reply.

Unconsciously, I stopped rubbing and fumbled on my lap for non-existent lenses—so used to taking them off and putting them back on without thinking.

Christ, I can’t do anything right.

“Can you see okay without them?”

My head wrenched up. “What?”

She motioned to my face. “Your glasses. I noticed you were wearing them in Los Angles and again in Nadi. I take it they’re not just for show but are legitimately required.”

She’d noticed a simple thing like that? Was that because she was an observant person or because she’d been drawn to me as much as I’d been drawn to her?

Either way, it gave me relief from the edgy agony I’d been wallowing in. I cracked a genuine smile. “They’re not a pompous decoration if that’s what you’re asking. I literally need them to see.”

Her shoulders relaxed a little, but she didn’t return my smile. “Are you blind without them?” Her hand came up with three fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

I chuckled. “Seriously? You’re right there. I can see you.”

“So how many?”