The Reaping (The Fahllen #1)(18)
Author: M. Leighton

The cool night breeze pinched at my nose and cheeks. The air smelled of smoke from the fire pit and citronella from the torches. With the noise of the party receding into the distance, I could hear a gentle lapping as our boat cut through the water. I felt more relaxed and happy than I could ever remember feeling. Sublime was the word that came to mind. All felt right with the world.

A few short minutes later, I heard something scrape the bottom of the boat. When I opened my eyes, I turned around and saw that we had run aground at the little island I’d seen when we arrived. Stephen hopped out onto dry ground and dragged the boat further onto the small beach area. He walked to my side and held out his hand to help me down. I thought it was likely the most gallant thing I’d ever seen.

I wobbled a bit when I stood, the trees tilting in front of me ever so slightly. When he’d gotten me safely off the boat, Stephen kept hold of my hand and led me through the trees, along a torch-lit path to another cabana that was hidden from the shore. The curtains on this one weren’t tied back. Stephen pushed them aside and nodded for me to precede him inside. I stepped through the opening, the intimate sight causing a prick of trepidation to encroach on my hazy sense of wellbeing.

A low full-size cot dominated the tent. At the head of the bed, there were two small lanterns on the ground, one on either side. They cast their soft yellow light on the puffy blue sleeping bag that lay invitingly open. A tiny radio hung from a hook on one of the structural supports, spilling its smooth melody into the otherwise quiet night.

Stephen walked around me and sat on the edge of the cot, patting the space beside him. Hesitantly, I perched next to him. I tried to look relaxed, but I couldn’t keep the stiffness from my muscles. I felt awkward and distinctly uncomfortable.

Stephen turned his body more toward mine and reached up to brush my hair back from my cheek.

“I really am sorry about the other day,” he whispered. His eyes glistened like black diamonds in the low light, his dilated pupils leaving no evidence of the blue iris. “My only excuse is that you are so beautiful it makes me crazy.”

I sat perfectly still, completely over my head and out of my element. I watched in wary silence as Stephen’s face got closer and closer to mine. When it blurred, I let my eyelids drift shut. Then I felt his lips on mine.

It was a tentative brush at first, which was kind of nice. The hand at my cheek slid into my hair and I felt the other settle on the outside of my leg between my hip and knee. Just before I settled into the pleasure of it, though, Stephen surprised me by deepening the kiss. He leaned into me, exerting enough pressure to push me backward. Before I fell all the way back, however, I managed to put my hands out and brace myself.

I tried to turn my head away, but the hand in my hair was holding me still. I could feel his tongue sweeping my lips, trying to find its way inside my mouth. His chest was bearing down on mine and, somewhere in the back of my fuzzy head, my trepidation upgraded to real concern.

“Stop,” I said when I was finally able to tear my lips away.

“Come on, Carson. I know you want me. You’ve liked me for a long time,” he said, scattering kisses across my cheek to my ear. “And now I’m all yours.”

The hand on my leg shifted from the outside to the inside and began an ascent toward my groin. Silent alarms flashed behind my eyes and I felt the beginnings of true fear penetrate my cloudy consciousness.

“I said stop, Stephen,” I said between gritted teeth.

“You don’t have to pretend, Carson. It’s just you and me. No one will ever have to know,” he said, his hot breath stirring my hair.

“I said stop!” Raising one arm, I shoved at Stephen, my emotional upset burning away the fog from my brain and muscles.

He finally leaned back, an indignant frown marring his handsome face. “You are nothing but a tease. You knew what was going to happen tonight,” he declared venomously.

Like the flip of a switch, my fear morphed into anger. “I most certainly did not. You apologized for the way you acted, which I mistakenly thought was sincere, and I was giving you a chance to prove you aren’t a pig, which you obviously are.”

Stephen sat up suddenly then stood to his feet. He looked down at me for several seconds, his expression inscrutable, and then he turned and walked out of the tent.

I sat there on the edge of the bed, struggling to process the surreal turn of events. My heart was hammering against my ribs and my breath was coming in short, shallow bursts. I couldn’t believe what was happening.

A scraping sound followed by a hollow thump thump prodded me into action. I raced out of the tent, down the path through the trees. I made it to the shore just in time to see Stephen rowing away from the island.

“Where are you going?” A stupid question, but I was so shocked, it was the only one that came to mind.

“Back to the party.”

“But-but what about me?”

“Find your own way back,” he spat, rowing further and further away.

I stood on the shore, watching Stephen, struck by the nightmarish quality of my predicament. When he was over half way back to the dock, it began to sink in that I was in serious trouble.

Frantically, I began to scramble about wildly, looking for another boat or a raft…something. Anything. But there was nothing. Not in the tent, not in the surrounding woods (those that were well lit anyway), not along the shore. And I didn’t know where else to look.

I thought about walking, but that didn’t seem like a good idea since I didn’t know if the “island” was truly an island or was attached to the mainland somewhere. The cold reality of my situation sank in. I was alone. At night. In the woods. On an island. Surrounded by water. With no phone and no help.

I could see the partiers across the water, dancing around the fire. Though I could barely hear the sounds of their celebration, I thought to try screaming anyway; if it worked it would be worth the effort.

I walked to the edge of the water, took a deep breath and shouted as loud as I could. No one even looked in my direction.

I watched as Stephen rowed, getting closer and closer to the other sid. I hoped that when he showed up without me, someone would do the sensible thing and come get me.

When he reached the dock, Stephen tied off the boat and climbed out. He walked along the wooden pier then up onto the grass. I saw him stop when he reached the group near the fire. I assumed he was speaking, as he was gesturing wildly and pointing in my direction. My hopes rose when I saw all heads turn and look out across the water.