Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
And if they did discover my location, how did they come to find the footage to begin with?
“Why am I bound if I’m not a prisoner?” I ask one of the dozens of questions going through my mind.
He looks to the pilot, then back to me. “We suspected you’d become volatile when you realized where you were,” he says. “That you… that you weren’t with her.”
I know what he means, and it’s the first thing he’s said that rings with truth. They suspected when I realized that Harper wasn’t with me that I’d kill them.
He’s not wrong.
I shake my head and look out the tiny window at the cloud below us. I have to keep my head on straight if I’m going to find her. If I’m going to get out of here. I don’t know who put them up to this or where we’re going, but I have to pretend that I believe them.
“I can’t believe she was an accomplice,” I mutter to myself. “I thought I could trust her.” It kills me to even pretend to go along with their lies. I feel the betrayal down to my bones. But I have to let them believe that I buy it.
They’re lying. This fucking helicopter showed up at the same time as the cruise ship? No fucking way. They didn’t come to rescue me. They kidnapped me for damage control.
Now I just have to prove it. Get to Harper. Find out who’s behind this.
Fuck.
“I’m sorry, sir. It must’ve been traumatic, being on the island for so long. And then to find out she was in on it.”
I nod. “Yeah,” I mutter, pretending I’m traumatized or some such shit, while I’m really planning the most efficient way for me to take these two hostage myself. And can I fly this helicopter?
I could, but I have no idea who they’re in contact with or where we are. I have to play the game.
“I won’t hurt you,” I say, and I try to pretend like I’m weakened or something. I let my voice go softer, my shoulders slumped. “Just let me go. For God’s sake, I’ve been on that island for who knows how long, and I—”
Then it dawns on me. They won’t lie about how long I was on the island. If I ask them, they have to tell me the truth, for it’ll be evident too soon.
“How long?” I ask, honestly afraid to hear the answer.
“How long, what, sir?” he asks, but I can tell by the look in his eyes he knows exactly what I’m asking and he’s only stalling.
“How long was I on the island?”
He takes in a deep breath, then lets it out slowly. “Two years, three months, Cy.”
I close my eyes, letting the knowledge wash over me like the news of someone’s death. Shocking. Hard to process. Chilling when it finally settles.
I do rapid math in my head. Eight hundred twenty days. At least sixty of those were spent with the woman I love.
Where is she? Are they hurting her? Are they feeding her the same line of bullshit they’re giving me?
Will she believe it?
“That’s a long time,” I say as if I’m broken and resigned. I sigh. I don’t want them to see me weak, but I have to play that part. “Could I have some water? Food? Anything? I’m not your prisoner, am I?”
He looks to the pilot, who looks back at me. I close my eyes, as I can’t bear to keep them open another minute.
“You’re not,” he says quietly. “And I can undo your restraints, but…” his voice trails off, and whatever he’s playing at, this is not part of it.
“But what?”
“But I’ve seen what you’re capable of,” he says, his eyes wide and fearful. “I’ve seen the footage. If you try anything, I’ll have no choice but to protect myself.”
I clench my jaw. This son of a bitch needs a beating. What kind of soldier wusses out like that? He’s armed, I’m not, and he’s shaking.
Or is that part of the act, too?
Goddamn it, I’ll get to the bottom of this if it’s the last fucking thing I do. I will find the truth if it kills me.
“I won’t hurt you,” I lie. When I discover who he is and how he’s complicit in my separation from Harper, I will make him rue the day he ever agreed to this.
“No,” the pilot says. “Do not remove his restraints. Give him water and food, but he keeps the cuffs on.”
I clench my jaw. Motherfucker.
“Some goddamn rescue this is,” I tell him. “Some goddamn military honors you two are giving me.”
“It’s only for our own protection, sir,” the pilot says. The hell it is.
But I’m brought water and food. I note every detail. The water’s served in a glass, an error if they were thinking I’m dangerous to them. The food is served on a plastic plate, but it’s taken out of a plastic bag large enough to go over someone’s head.