Page 45 of Shipwrecked

“If you’re not too busy with the bitter-ex routine, we’re all trying to get something done here,” I interrupt.

“I’m just saying—”

“You don’t need to.”

Darren reddens. Willow glances wearily between the two of us as Mary glares at Darren. Yasop is standing back with a fed-up expression. I stare Darren down.

“Jules wouldn’t do that,” I say. “Even getting him to eat the protein bar on board, I had to resort to…” Things were resorted to. “Make him.”

“Come on, Darren.” Yasop steps in. “Let’s help Seán.”

Darren joins Yasop. His body is a tense wire. I watch Darren’s back until they disappear into the undergrowth.

The girls exchange a look and take turns peeking at me.

“He’s not eating the food on the yacht,” I say.

“We know,” Mary says. “I bet he’s out there trying to find a usable pen and paper to document every crumb he finds so he can figure out the best way to divvy everything up. I can’t stand Darren.”

“Mary,” Willow cautions.

“What?” Mary whirls on Willow. “He can talk shit about Jules, but nobody can say anything about him? It isn’t fair. We’re all trying to get by, and I know it’s frustrating that Jules and I haven’t been able to help, but we’ve been doing everything we can. Do you think I wouldn’t be out there cutting down bamboo branches if my ankle wasn’t like this? And the second Jules got mobile, he joined the treks to get water, too. He wasn’t being lazy or slacking off for fun.”

“We know you’re injured, and it isn’t your fault that you can’t do water runs. Nobody is saying that.”

“Only because Charles almost punched Yasop in the face for the comment he made yesterday.”

“Yasop was tired.”

“Right.”

Willow leaps to her feet, mutters that she’s going for a walk, and stalks away along the edge of the treeline. Mary, to my horror, begins crying.

I stand there awkwardly. Jules cried on the boat, and folding him into my arms had felt like the most natural thing in the world. I think if I so much as tried to pat Mary’s shoulder, I’d cringe myself to death.

“Can I do anything?” I ask.

“No. I don’t know. I’m feeling penned in with everyone. Which is ridiculous, given the size of this island.” Mary cups her good knee. “You’re not going to stop looking out for Jules now that he’s better, are you?”

Reasonably, there’s no reason I should be treating him differently from anyone else on the island now. If I should be favouring anyone, it’s Mary, given her injury. After what happened on the yacht, the wave of sexual aggression that had risen like a tidal wave, I should take several steps back.

But Jules kissed me back. He groaned and sank to his knees. I can’t shake the way he looked at me. Expectant. Waiting for my cue to direct him where to go. I’d seen the way he reacted to Mathieu’s physical forwardness in the club and fantasised about what that might mean in bed. But a daydream to amuse myself during the daily water trek and having the bossy Jules go obedient are two wildly different things.

Mary clears her throat.

I’ve been staring at the yacht, waiting for a glimpse of blond hair. “I forget what you asked me.”

That draws a small smile. “I asked if you’re still going to look out for Jules.”

“I am.”

Mary releases her knee, some of her tension gone. The tears have stopped. “Jules said that life jacket there is for you, but he thinks it would be better if you helped get the raft ready with us all so we can make at least one run with it before it’s dark.”

“Does he now.” I try again to spot them. They must be inside the cabin. I weigh up my options but settle next to Mary with a sigh. Standing on board watching over their shoulders would be stupid when I’m better served here. I’ll have my chance to lecture them later.

Chapter Seventeen

Jules