Page 29 of Wallflower

Heaving in a deep breath, I drop out of the life jacket and slip into the water below. The shark plows full-steam into the floating orange vest, snapping and thrashing. Its frenzied movements rip the still-tethered hair free, and I swim for my life.

Popping up next to the raft, I choke out a breath. Kicking with all my remaining energy while I extend my hands toward the sky.

Sam’s there, reaching for me. Working his hands around my body while I cling to him like he’s the only lifeline I’ve got. “Chelsea!” he screams, loud enough to alter my hearing. She’s there, then gone in a flash. Returning with the oar, and smashingit down upon the resurfacing shark’s head before it has a chance to take a chunk out of either Sam or I.

The massive beast disappears below the surface and Chelsea’s nails dig into my wet skin as she helps Sam tug me into the raft.

Her eyes cut into me like daggers as I lay there next to Brad trying to catch my breath. His come in agonized gasps, a wince pulling at his features with every new inhale. There’s no blood spilling from him, only a few reddened streaks across his shirt that could be from either of us. “Are you all right?” I rasp.

“Yeah. Just a cracked rib.”

“How can you be sure?”

“It’s not my first one, probably won’t be my last.”

I’ll take his word for it seeing as I’ve never experienced that before.

Sitting in the silence surrounding us, I take a moment to bask in the dampening storm. The pounding rain tapers off to a light drizzle and the clouds start to part, allowing the full scope of the magical sunrise to be seen.

High up on a cliff in the distance sits a mansion, its many windows glistening in the beaming morning light. Envy blooms deep in my gut. Why should they get to experience that otherworldly beauty everyday, completely unaware of the horrors playing out on the sands below them? Do they know how lucky they are? To live such a life of carelessness—of luxury. Or do they hate the sunrise? Loathe how it invades their space too aggressively before they’re ready to greet the new day. Too blinded by their own ignorance to see the paradise before them—the reprieve they take for granted that others would kill for?

Brad groans, loud and pained, tearing me free from the green pit of envy I swan-dived into as he pulls himself into a sitting position. Some sharks have a hunting technique called bump-and-bite. They basically plow into their prey like a speeding Mactruck, hoping to stun, kill, or investigate it before eating. I’m surprised all of Brad’s ribs aren’t broken and his spine’s still in one piece.

Sliding off the small backpack, he pulls out another oar, extending it. How he plans to row with busted ribs is beyond me, but I’m not about to offer a faster route to my demise.

Chelsea scrambles, trying to reach the other oar. But Sam’s one step ahead, snatching it up before she can reach it.

She turns her slicing gaze my way once again. “Why couldn’t you just let him die?” Her voice is a whisper on the slowing wind, fluttering to my ears on the returning warm balmy breeze. “We could’ve been free.” Her words keep coming. Louder and louder they plow into me. “Do you know what he did to me? He deserved to be torn apart by fucking sharks!”

Shame wraps its icy talons around my heart. She deserved retribution. I robbed her of that—of the possibility to ever sleep soundly again because he’s desecrated at the bottom of the ocean. But she doesn’t know what I know. What Sam promised, and the things that Brad told me.

Casting my gaze to Sam, the slightest shake of his head tells me to keep quiet. Despite what Brad thinks, maybe he doesn’t know absolutely everything.

Brad’s voice shatters the silence, reiterating to Chelsea the same things he told me, albeit in more heinous detail since he has the luxury of time now. “Maximus would hunt you and Rose to the end of existence. He would chase you just for fun. Make you live in fear because of the hassle you’ve caused. Then, when he finally cornered you, caught you, and brought you back to his hell hole, he’d torture you both. He’d enjoy bringing your sister to the edge of death while you watch. Only to haul her away, before you know if she’s alive or dead. Then, when she’s all healed up and you’re dripping rancid cum, he’ll do the same things to you while she watches. That’s a fate worsethan whatever you’ll experience if we deliver you without issue. She...” he points to me, “knows that.” Slowly, I nod in agreement as Sam avoids everyone’s darting gaze.

“We have to show up together or all risk his wrath. In his eyes, you owe him what he paid for you,” Sam mutters, hanging his head in defeat.

Brad casts his gaze from Sam, to Chelsea, finally landing on me. “And he always gets what he’s owed.”

The bright sunrise reflects off the ocean as we wait on the beach for the head of the operation, Maximus. No one knows if it’s his real name, or just what he demands to be addressed as. I tend to avoid him at all costs. Unless I’m receiving instruction or handling a delivery, I stay the fuck away.

His thick form swaggers from a copse of palm trees, the shadows concealing his average height until he’s ready for a grand entrance. We had no idea he was there. That’s the point. He wants to keep us unnerved, and we are. All his employees know he could always be watching, hiding in plain sight where none of us would even think to look. He’s got eyes everywhere. Nothing happens on this island without him knowing. He was probably informed of our issue with the storm mere minutesafter it started, and his divers would have been sent out to retrieve the duffle bags of evidence once it cleared.

His brightly coloured button-up shirt billows in the warm breeze, the parrots printed upon it flapping with all their might to escape the evil they’re wrapped around. Tousled dirty blond hair hangs over his forehead, as his deep forest eyes gleam with excitement. He looks nothing more than a tourist taking a stroll in his black swimming trunks and matching sandals. All traces of the ruthless business man eradicated.

A smile of approval pulls at his mouth, gold canine tooth glinting in the morning sun’s rays, as he crosses the distance to us, flip-flops flicking up sand with every step.

Chelsea’s as empty and lifeless as ever. Resolve has settled deep within her bones—there’s no escape. Brad presses a kiss to her temple, no doubt to fuck with her further, before pushing against her lower back, directing her to walk up and meet her new owner.

A sob cracks through Rose’s seemingly impenetrable wall, but Chelsea doesn’t so much as turn a glance. She’s smart enough to hide all emotions, they’re a weakness. Max will wield Rose’s wellbeing against her the same way Brad did.

“Shhh, pretty girl,” I whisper on a hushed breath, hoping the sound gets drowned out by the now gently lapping water behind us. “I’ll find you. I promise.”

A near imperceptible nod, then she leaves me. Working her bare feet through the warming sand over to Maximus, who leads them back into the shadows of the fronds.

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been involved in an exchange. But this meagre handful of minutes houses the biggest regret of my life. I should have said something, resisted or fought. But every outcome would negatively impact us. We’d all end up dead, or I’d show all the cards in my hand, giving the devil more control over me than ever before.

Apath appears under foot as Maximus leads us, arms linked, through the shadowy brush. My sight jumps erratically, looking for any sign of what’s to come.