Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 104729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
“Never can tell what we’ll find on our walk.”
I wait for her to object, or say something, but today she’s on her best behavior. She must really want to get off this island.
Not that I blame her, but I don’t have the heart to remind her it’s a long shot. This can’t be easy for her. She basically has to rely on someone she hates for everything. The problem is, we could leave here and die on the raft. The plan is we’ll find another island, one that’s inhabitable, and make our way there. But just in case it takes a while, it’s better safe than sorry.
“Be honest. How many days of fishing until we have enough?”
“You want me to be honest?” I ask.
“Obviously.” She rolls her eyes before she deadpans, “Honesty is the best policy.”
“Ten days.”
Her mouth drops open at my words. “Are you serious? We have to do this for another ten days?”
“Well, we don’t have to do anything, but if we want the best shot, that’s my guess.” I shrug.
“Okay, well, either way, I guess we have to look for something to eat, so let’s go.” She turns and sets off again.
We spend the rest of the day gathering food, and before long, the sky is turning dark. With a fire set, we sit together beside it, letting it warm us.
“How will we know which way to steer?” she asks, picking the conversation back up from hours ago.
I point at my head, tapping on it to show it’s all up there. That my brain will be our map.
“Do you know your way around the Caribbean?”
“For the past four years, I have conducted my business on my yacht. I know how to sail a boat. I know how to captain a yacht. I know how to read the stars. I know how to figure out the location on a map, and after all these years of doing this course, I know where the islands are on the map.” Leaning forward, I throw another log onto the pile and watch as the fire roars to life. Red embers flicker as the smoke consumes the fresh piece.
Phoenix watches me, a small line forming between her brows. “Then how are we here?”
“The thing is …” What happened that night still pisses me the fuck off, but there is no place for lies on this island. “I fell asleep. I hate myself for it because had I not, even in the black ocean, I would’ve been able to figure out our direction. But I did, and because of that, I might have killed us.” My words come out low, and I can’t believe I said them out loud.
Phoenix does something I don’t expect. She moves to sit closer.
“Tell me about the stars,” she says.
“That can take all night,” I respond, head tilted toward her. She turns toward me with fascination and curiosity written all over her face.
“Where else do I have to be?” She chuckles, and she’s right. There is no place to be and no one else to talk to. Her options for entertainment are limited.
“I might bore you.”
With amusement flashing in her eyes, she shakes her head. “I doubt you could ever bore anyone.”
“You’d be surprised.” I lean back so my head tilts up to the sky, and she follows my lead.
“Do you see that star right over there?”
“The bright one?”
“Yeah, that’s Polaris. The North Star. Sailors use it to guide them home. All I need is that, and I’ll be able to guide us.”
“So why don’t you?”
“I need to know where we started. I have a general understanding of our location, enough I feel confident that eventually we will find help, but we just need—”
“Enough food, just in case it takes longer?” She leans forward to get closer to the fire.
“Exactly. Now you’re learning.” My arm reaches out and grabs another log. I cut enough to last us until we fall asleep. Though we’re on a tropical island, the temperature does drop at night. From where she’s sitting, I hear her giggle, and I turn to see what’s so funny.
“Why are you giggling over there?” I ask.
“Learning from you … now that’s an interesting concept,” she clarifies.
“How so?”
She cocks her head to the side and gives me a pointed look. “I don’t see you as much of a teacher.”
“You don’t know me very well. Don’t doubt what you can’t see.”
A part of me expects my clipped answer to be ignored, but then I remember this is Phoenix, and my little dove loves conflict.
“Very well. Starting now, I won’t. Tell me more.”
It’s not exactly what I had in mind when I thought of her response, but I can still work with it. “Oh, I will, but not now.”
“Then when?”
“We have at least ten more days together … might as well make it last before you hate me again.”