RESTLESS HEARTS

CHAPTER 12

•JULIANA•

I was an early riser. I was awake before the break of dawn. There was an old shed behind the cabin so I decided to check it out.

Pushing aside the rusty door, my hand brushed against the light string hanging in the dim room. I pulled it, and the light above me flickered to life. My eyes needed a moment to adjust.

The first thing I saw was a large object covered in a blue tarp. I circled it, trying to figure out what it was before pulling the tarp aside. A grin spread across my face as I unveiled an old, rusty blue Jeep Wrangler.

Despite its age, it looked like it could still run. A set of keys in the glovebox confirmed that, and I excitedly started the engine.

I decided to take the Jeep for a spin. The guy who sold me the cabin must have left it here for me to use on the island. Even though my plan was to lay low in the cabin, it seemed like a good idea to have some wheels.

I drove back to the beach where I'd left my zin boat the day before. I hoped it was still there and not washed away by the sea overnight. Plus, I needed to check it for any useful tools or an emergency flare gun.

The beach was about a twenty-minute drive from the cabin, much faster than the exhausting forty-minute walk from the previous day. I parked the Jeep and followed a narrow trail through the trees and vines.

Shielding my eyes from the bright sun, I scanned the area for my zin boat. Fortunately, it was right where I'd left it, intact. I jogged over to it and was about to climb in when I froze.

There was an unconscious man lying at the end of the boat, his lower body in the water, arms and face in the sand. I recognized his clothes; he was one of Connor's friends from the yacht.

How did he end up here? He was supposed to be dead, blown up with the rest. Had he survived?

I knelt down, examining faint ash marks and bruises on his face and arms. I checked for a pulse, feeling a faint one beneath his skin. Disappointed, I started CPR.

After about ten minutes, he began coughing up saltwater, finally regaining consciousness. He lay there, catching his breath, looking surprisingly good for someone who'd nearly drowned.

With his pale blond hair, strong jawline, and piercing blue eyes, he was quite handsome. Our eyes locked, and we stared at each other in silence for a moment.

Suddenly, he grabbed my hand, twisting it painfully. I reacted, pushing him back and retaliating, but he swiftly countered, locking his arm around my neck.

I elbowed him in the abdomen, then twisted his arm and pushed him down. Before he could get up, I pulled the gun from my jeans and aimed it at his face, the safety off.

 "Who are you?" His cold eyes met mine as he asked the question.

"You don't know me, and I don't know you," I replied sharply.

He started to move, but I cocked the gun closer, warning him not to make a wrong move.

"What do you want from me?" he asked.

"Nothing that matters," I replied casually.

"How did I end up here?" he pressed.

"I have no idea. You could've drifted here for days," I evaded.

I decided to leave, ignoring him. He seemed disoriented, dehydrated, and shocked, likely not remembering much. It was best to let him go; he couldn't survive on his own here.

"Wait, where are you going?" he called out.

"None of your business," I retorted.

"I don't know this place!" he pleaded.

"That's your problem, not mine," I replied, heading back to my Jeep.

He followed me, and I turned around, gun aimed again. 

"Don't follow me, or I won't hesitate to shoot you."

He didn't say anything, just gave me a long, scrutinizing look. I left the beach, hoping he wouldn't last long out here, and returned to the cabin.

I could only hope that nature or wild animals would take care of him, and no one would ever know I'd saved his life or the truth about the yacht explosion.