Page 143 of For Better or Hearse

I am yours. And you’re mine too.

Her words last night threw him off balance, right before they aligned within him so completely.

He doesn’t want to go back. Not to work. Not to his rig. Noton his backpacking trip. He wants more than the memory of this vacation with Ash. He wants a life with her.

There will be time to think about the future later. First, he has to get them off this island. Remain calm for Ash’s sake.

Nathaniel clenches his jaw.Stop it. Pull it the fuck together. She needs you.

Crossing a stream, he waves his phone in the air. One last desperate attempt for service. He freezes when four bars appear.

A heartbeat later, his phone lights up. A barrage of texts.

Dawg, you better not be off banging.

Where are you? Dinner’s at seven.

You’re late. You’re never late.

Nathaniel, I’m afraid to admit that I’m beginning to get worried.

He homes in on one text in particular. His mother:We’re coming.The time stamp reads four a.m.

He checks the time on his watch. It’s six.

Any minute.

Any minute, they’ll be here.

Adrenaline coursing through him, he dips his head and blows out a breath. In the stream in front of him, a Coca-Cola bottle bobs. He crouches down and picks it up.

It’s half-full.

Breath held, he twists the cap. A weak hiss. The soda is nearly flat. It’s possible it’s only been here since their tour yesterday. Regardless, it’s sugar. It’s disgusting, but it’s sugar, and it’ll work.

He’s never been so fucking thankful for litterbugs.

Bottle in hand, he runs full speed back to where he left Ash.

As he crests the final hill before the beach, she comes into view.

She’s on the sand.

Lyingon the fucking sand.

Not moving.

His world tips sideways. His head goes quiet.

It’s supernatural how fast he moves. He charges across thebeach. His heart thunders wildly. When he reaches her, he drops to his knees.

Her body’s slumped face down. Grabbing her by the torso, he rolls her over. Brushes black hair from her pale face. Her eyes are closed. He places two fingers to her throat. Rapid pulse. Clammy skin.

With force, he shakes her. “Ash,” he rasps, desperate for a response. “Ashabelle, wake up.”

Fear blooms in his chest, but before it can take root, a soft groan leaves her lips.

Her eyes flutter, then open. She lifts a hand to her temple. “Something bit me.”