Secrets and Scars: A Gripping Psychological Thriller (Fatal Hearts Series Book 3) (3 page)

“Thanks.” He took several deep breaths, then climbed back out, sweat pouring down his face.

“Phew.” I rubbed my aching hand and wrist. The relief coursing through me made me want to hug him, but I stopped myself.

“That was close,” I said instead. “Are you okay?”

“You have no idea.” He dropped the sack at his feet—thank God it had not fallen in—and dusted himself off. His white t-shirt was dirty. “He’s close.”

My heart slammed against my chest as he helped me to my feet. When he took my hand and we hurried forward, I asked him the question that burned at the back of my mind.

“Why are you doing this? If you knew he could be dangerous, why come all the way here to risk your life? Why didn’t you wait for the cops to do their job?”

“Like I said earlier, they weren’t moving fast enough.” His voice was strained. “Let’s not waste time. We’ll talk later, I promise.” He tightened his fingers around mine. “We have to be more careful. He probably left more traps like that one.”

Chapter Six

Owen was right. We did come across more traps, but he was able to detect them in time. He made sure to walk slightly ahead of me so he could assess the danger before it was too late.

It had been a while since we’d had something to drink, and my mouth and throat were drying up fast. Hunger wasn’t much of an issue. Thanks to Alvin’s one-meal-a-day policy on his yacht, my body had become somewhat accustomed to holding on without sustenance. We still had one bottle of water in the sack, but we’d made a pact to hold on for as long as possible before drinking again.

After at least two hours of walking, we sank onto a fallen tree to take a break.

Owen turned to me, squinting, his blue eyes shrouded with worry. “I think I know why he trapped this mountainside.”

“Isn’t it obvious? He wants to stop us from getting off the island.” Though the traps had probably been set for me long before Owen entered the picture.

“That’s part of it, but there’s more.” He shifted his weight and turned toward me. His knees touched mine. His touch was comforting in a way I couldn’t explain. “On my way over to Miles’s yacht, I spotted some kind of farm or village on the far side of the mountain.”

“You think Alvin is trying to keep us from getting to it?” I dropped my pounding head into my hands.

“I’m sure of it. If we make it there, whoever owns it could hide us.”

“And you think we should stop there, not head straight to your yacht?” I lifted my head and ran a hand through my tangled ponytail.

He looked down at the map again and folded it. “It might be a good idea. This journey seems to be taking longer than I expected. We need supplies.”

“It could also be risky, though. What if the land belongs to Alvin?”

“At this point we don’t have too much of a choice. If we run out of food and water, we’re done. We don’t know what lies ahead.” He swept a hand across his forehead. “But you do have a point. There’s a chance the land is his, but I doubt it. On the map, he had circled part of this island. That land was not included.” He shrugged. “To be safe, we’ll try not to come into contact with anyone. We’ll get there, grab whatever we can find, and run.”

I pursed my lips and nodded. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Chapter Seven

The sun hung high in the sky now, its heat beating down on us. The last bottle of water we had was empty.

I glanced at Owen. He was trying to be strong for both of us, but exhaustion had wrung him out. The tension in his features was unmistakable, and his shoulders slumped forward as he walked.

We both slowed down with each step we took. My feet barely moved anymore. But stopping before we reached the village was not an option. The thing that worried me was the distance. Would we make it there before dehydration killed us? Would we need to spend the night in the jungle again? My stomach cramped at the thought.

Owen had long stopped assuring me about the proximity of the village. I figured he had miscalculated the time it would take us to reach it, and he did not want to disappoint me.

The thought that it would be a long while until we got there weighed me down, but I could not give up. I would not let Alvin win.

On several occasions we stopped to rest, leaning our backs on rough bark, panting as we dropped onto fallen tree trunks, boulders, or dry earth.

At one of our stops, I closed my eyes and rolled my head, loosening the tension in my neck, listening to the leaves rustling and creatures chattering. The scurrying of animals in the underbrush startled me, and I lifted my eyelids again in time to see a lizard scramble up the tree trunk on my side.

I pushed myself away from the trunk, heart racing. As a child, I’d had a paralyzing fear of reptiles. That fear had not left me, apparently.

“You okay?” Owen eyed me suspiciously.

I got to my feet, scratching my arms as though the lizard had crawled onto my skin. “Yeah, I just don’t like lizards.”

His lips curled up at the corners. He also got to his feet. “You do
know most lizards are harmless to humans, right?”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t stop me from being afraid of them.”

“Would it make you feel better if I told you that lizard was probably more scared of you than you were of it?” He dusted himself off.

I looked up at the tree, following the path the lizard had taken. “You could be right. Should we get going?”

“We’d better.”

After about fifteen minutes of walking, I inhaled deeply, searching for hope in the smells of wildflowers, wild herbs, and damp earth.

I stopped for a moment, eyebrows knitted. The breeze had brought something else to my nose—something familiar.

“What’s wrong?” Owen asked. “Did you hear something?”

I raised my head to the sky and drew in a deeper breath. “I smell… I think it’s food.” My stomach rumbled. “It’s a meaty smell. Do you smell it too?”

Owen placed a hand on the small of my back, urging me forward. “I do detect something in the air, but not food. I think it’s smoke. It’s faint, though.”

“You smell smoke, I smell food.” A flicker of hope fluttered inside my chest. “Maybe someone’s cooking. The village could be close.”

“It’s definitely not food.” He laughed, but didn’t confirm my suspicion about us being close to the village.

“Are you calling my nose a liar?” I chuckled. Sometimes when you’re faced with the impossible, the best thing to do is laugh it off. Either that or cry.

“That's not what I said.” Owen kicked at a small stone with his boot. “But I agree there’s something in the air.” He turned up his nose to take a sniff. “Either Miles is setting fire to the island, or we’re close to the village. I choose to believe the second option.”

I whirled toward him. “You really think it’s possible he’d set fire to the island?” That
would
be the easiest way to get rid of us. But then again, the island was huge. Should fire break out, we would still have a chance to escape by racing for the beach. Unless, of course, he anticipated our movements and knew we would try to get to the water.

“It’s a possibility.” Owen turned to glance behind us. Was he worried his own suspicions might be right? “You know what, let’s not think about it. The best thing we can do right now is keep moving.”

“I don’t think he’ll try to kill us from a distance.”

Alvin was demented and obsessed. No way would he let me die without being there to watch my pain, to enjoy every moment. He would never forgo the pleasure of murdering me in person, with his own two hands. Thirteen years of preparation for my murder had shown me the extent of his patience.

He’d planned his revenge meticulously, and even though he had not expected Owen to show up, no doubt remained in my mind that he would carry it out to the end.

“You seem to know his mind well. I—” Owen’s sentence was broken by the sound of something whizzing past us and exploding. Another explosion followed almost immediately, splitting the air between our bodies.

“He’s shooting,” Owen said while I reeled from the surprise attack. “Come on.” He pulled me behind a large boulder. We squatted, trying to hide.

“He’s going… to kill us,” I stuttered. He was probably headed for us right now. What did we have to protect ourselves? Nothing but a stone.

His footsteps grew louder, crunching the ground beneath him, heavy and vengeful. The wind carried his harsh, unsteady breathing.

Owen placed a finger on his lips. Holding me in place with one hand, he shifted his body to take a look around the boulder.

“Don’t do that, don’t look,” I whispered furiously. Fear seized my body. He’d get himself killed. He didn’t listen.

Another shot rang out. The bullet hit the boulder, missing Owen, as he moved his head quickly out of the line of danger.

“He’s not that close.” He turned to take another look. “He’s hiding behind a bush.”

“Can he see you?”

“Shit, he just did... I think. He’s looking straight over here, but he looks confused.”

Another bullet, and the sharp smell of gunpowder in the air. But Alvin hadn’t aimed this bullet at us. From the sound of it, he had aimed for the sky.

“What’s going on with him?” Owen asked. “He’s acting all crazy.”

I knew then with every cell in my body what was going on. From Owen’s description of the situation, only one thing could be happening: Alvin was indecisive, sending up false alarms even when he was well aware of our position. He could come for us now, shoot our brains out, but he wasn’t doing that. Something had distracted him.

Wrong.
Someone
had distracted him, and I knew who: Miles.

The next bullet hit the boulder, close to my side. The gunpowder infiltrated the air around me, shooting up my nose. Needles of fear pressed into my skin.

Miles didn’t stay long. Alvin had regained control.
Damn.

We had two choices: stay, or run for it. Running would be suicide, like walking willingly into the barrel of a gun.

I grabbed on to the last straws of my serenity, trying not to freak out and get myself killed. My body screamed for me to run, to save myself. My mind disagreed, urging me to stay put. Owen’s hand on mine did the same. I had to continue trusting him. He saw what I couldn’t see. He was watching Alvin.

I closed my eyes and prayed Miles would show up again before Alvin killed us.

“He’s coming.” I could almost hear the wheels in Owen’s head turning, searching for an answer to our predicament, a way out from between the rock and a hard place. He nodded, and his face relaxed. My lungs collapsed with relief. Owen would save us. He had to. I couldn’t die now, not like this. Owen couldn’t die. We hadn’t come this far for nothing.

Owen pushed his body forward and pointed to the boulder. A message from him to me.

I shook my head, confused. I’d always sucked at reading gestures. He jabbed his thumb at the boulder again. Something inside me clicked as the message reached me, his silent words forming an image in my mind. I nodded and shifted forward through the dirt, twisting my body around, then placed both my hands flat on the rough rock. I bowed my head in a nod. By the time Owen did the same, the footsteps were getting closer.

One. Two. Three. A pause.

“Look at you two pussies hiding. You think a stone will save you? You fools.” The venom in his voice traveled on the wind and curled itself around my throat. He couldn’t be more than twelve feet from us. “The race is over. You’re both done… dead, you hear?”

“Now,” Owen mouthed.

I pushed my whole weight into the stone along with Owen. But nothing happened. The boulder didn’t budge an inch.

“You really thought I’d let you go that easily? You don’t know me at all.” His feet shuffled. “Now get the fuck out of there, you bitch. Let me fuck you while he’s watching, and then I’ll kill you both.”

Blocking out Alvin’s words, I pursed my lips. We tried again, the sharp edges of the stone digging into my soft palms. The boulder gave a few inches. Owen stretched a leg behind him, digging a foot into the ground for added leverage.

“Harder,” Owen whispered.

Our next shove left me gasping and dizzy, but it was worth each drop of sweat.

The boulder moved out of our reach and went tumbling down. As it slid down the slope, its momentum caused other small rocks, boulders, and dirt to follow its lead. The boulder rolled, racing for Alvin, who was clearly visible to me now. He didn’t move right away. His gun dropped to his side, and his eyes widened as the debris rumbled toward him. Before it reached him, he aimed at us and took another shot.

Then our rockslide sent him running for cover, fleeing to the other side of the mountain.

Chapter Eight

Alvin's last shot wasn’t a complete failure—it grazed Owen’s arm. Half an inch and it would have hit him. As soon as we got to what I thought was a safe distance from Alvin, I turned on Owen, fury biting through my veins, my body clenched tight with rage.

“You almost got killed. Why are you here?” Tears burned my eyes, searing the surface of them. “I need you, I need your help, but I’m putting you in danger. You have to go. Save yourself and get the cops. Alvin will come back. I don’t want you dying with me. You'll make it out of here faster if you leave me behind.”

He wrapped his hands around my shoulders and turned me to him. I almost tripped at the sudden movement. “I’m not going anywhere. There’s no way you can do this on your own. I came all this way. I’ll be damned if I leave without you.”

“You think you know him from the little you saw, but you have no idea just how dangerous he is. Please...” I shook my head sadly. “Please just go, because I cannot—I will not be able to forgive myself if something happens to you. I cannot have another person’s death on my conscience.” 

If Owen left me alone, the chances of me making it out of Alvin’s island alive were slim. But my mind wouldn’t stop counting the corpses I’d left in my wake, all the innocent people. Dying alone would be a small price to pay to avoid dragging Owen to the grave with me.