Before He Was Gone: Starstruck Book 2 (6 page)

Hot hands on my skin, grappling for my bikini bottoms, pulling them aside. Hot lips on my neck, fingers coarse with sand. My breath ragged, gasping. ‘Sebastian,’ I mouth.

I reach my hands up to his face, his hair, but he’s different now. He’s a silhouette against the sun blazing hard behind him. He’s quiet and his skin feels different, hot. His chest is wider, his arms are bigger, his head is smooth. He locks me beneath him on the towel with one leg over my lower body, pressing himself against me hard, kissing my neck and down to my stomach. I can feel every inch of him, but I still can’t see his face.

‘Sebastian?’ I say again, squinting against the sun. He pulls my naked chest even harder to his sticky flesh, goes to kiss me again; one big hand behind my head, the other on my thigh. But behind him a white bird soars above us in a blue sky, just as a green snake slithers past to my side and almost slides over my legs. I shriek at the bright red tail tip and try to sit up, but the hand pins me down by one shoulder till I’m flat against the sand.

‘Let me go!’ I yell. This isn’t normal. But I see it now, branded across his rock-like bicep. The lion tattoo.

I bolt upright in the shelter. Sweat is gluing my shirt to my body along with several leaves. Mia’s to my left, snoring like a sledgehammer and I squint in the half-light across the row of bodies, all sleeping soundly. I fall back down on my mound of sand, run my mind back over my dream, untie the bandana from my hair. What was
that?

My heart’s still racing, my mouth tastes nasty. My arms are itching like mad, like they're on fire. I’m dying for water and my stomach’s growling. I know I won’t go back to sleep.

I crawl out of the shelter on all fours, trying not to wake anyone with any sudden movements. The sun’s rising. A streak of orange is blazing like coals against a blue-grey horizon and the ocean is totally flat beneath it. For a second it smacks me once again just where I am. So surreal. I look down at my arms - they're covered in sand fly bites.

I cross my arms around myself, trying not to scratch, walk to the side of the shelter and find the containers of water we filled from the well last night. I swig back at least half a can. It feels good. Trust Sebastian to come back to me uninvited – on his terms as usual. 
I walk barefoot across the sand, but as well as him, something else keeps on bugging me; something I can’t put my finger on as the dream fades. 

On the way to the rocks at the end of the beach I tear off my clothes, toss everything to the ground. I know I’m probably on a hidden camera somewhere but standing in my purple lace underwear I’m ten degrees cooler already so, really, I’m going to have to deal with it. It’s not my best set, but it’s definitely not my worst.

I climb up onto a pitted black rock, look out at the sparkling ocean. A crab scuttles out of my way as I step to the edge and jump into the clear water. Instantly my feet touch sand, but I propel myself off the rocks, out to where it’s deeper, swimming hard and fast towards a darker shade of blue. I feel better already. It’s been years since I opened my eyes underwater. For a second as I put my head down, the feeling of it shocks my eyeballs, but right away I see a school of brightly colored yellow and blue striped fish, swimming around a reef. Wow! So beautiful.

I follow them with my eyes, suck a lungful of air and dive a little deeper. Ahead of me I can see where the pink and white coral and anemone drops down into the deep, deep darkness. Are there sharks down here? Sharks live in Indonesia, right? 

A long, sharp object darts past me, inches from my face and rockets straight through a fish. A cloud of red colors the ocean. 
What the hell!?

I shoot to the top again, gasping, kicking my legs out. I spin around but there’s nothing, no one. I put my head back down and there he is; a figure shooting towards me from the deep, holding the spear with the fish on it like a weapon. I kick backwards automatically but his face is rising in front of mine now – two bright eyes behind a mask. I kick again in shock and the coral scrapes me instantly.

‘Careful!’ Joshua yells, holding the spear up above him in one hand and reaching for me quickly with the other. ‘It’s sharp, don’t get it in you!’

‘Too late,’ I snap, wincing with the pain as it sears through my ankle. I ball my legs up into myself as he shoves the mask up onto his head, swims around me quickly and snakes my waist from behind. ‘Don’t move,’ he orders, ‘keep your legs up,’ and in two seconds flat my back’s pressed against his chest and he’s kicking us both away from the reef.

I’m more than aware of his vice-like arm brushing the bottom of my breasts through my stupid bra but all I can do is let him guide us over to where two large, flat rocks are poking out above the water. The wound stings like crazy with the salt. God, I’m an idiot. ‘I saw the coral, I’m sorry,’ I say, ‘you just… you came from out of nowhere, merman!’

‘Here,’ he says guiding me to the first rock. ‘There’s a natural step underneath, see? Can you make it up?’ He releases his arm from around me and throws the spear with the fish on it onto the rock. ‘Do what I do,’ he instructs, finding his footing with ease and hoisting himself up on braced triceps.

I clamber to follow him. For a second I think I’m going to fall – the wet rock is slippery under my hands and adrenaline is making me shake, but my fingers take hold and I grip on as hard as I can. Joshua's on the rock now, leaning down. He reaches under my arms, lifts me effortlessly  towards him. I sink instantly to my knees but he shifts so I’m resting on his thighs now and not the sharp, jagged surface.

‘Are you OK?’ he asks, taking my shoulders. I nod, aware of the warmth of his flesh against mine as I put my hands against his chest to balance myself. I meet his eyes. They’re round with concern. They’re the most sensational colors too - shades of brown with flecks of green dancing through them. 

‘I’m OK,’ I say quickly, catching my breath, pulling my hands back.

‘Let me see,’ he says now, guiding me down slowly to the rock and shifting back to check my ankle. The blood is trickling in a thin red line. My foot looks small in his big hands. I note the fine black hairs on his arms; the ocean drops tracing down his olive face as he looks me over; the camera guy paddling towards us furiously on a kayak now from the shore.

‘Does it hurt?’ he asks, turning my foot slightly.

‘It’s not too bad.’

‘I don’t think you got anything in it.’ He places my ankle carefully back down, pulls the mask off his head and sits down. ‘You should clean it up fast, though. You know, there’s this weird disease some divers get if they scrape against coral. They can start to turn into a reef.’

‘Whatever!’

‘It’s true.’ He picks up the spear again. His face is straight but as I frown at him he smiles, motions to my ankle. ‘The spores start to grow under the skin – they form new coral.’

‘Not in me they don’t,’ I say, ‘I have heels to wear. I can’t be feeding fish from my feet.’

He laughs, pulls the fish free from the spear. The lion on his strained bicep stares at me as he moves and my breath catches again.
That’s
what I forgot from my dream. Sebastian turned into Joshua, kissing me like a maniac on the sand. My cheeks start to blaze and it’s got nothing to do with the stinging, or the rising sun.

‘How come you’re up so early?’ he’s saying now, oblivious, leaning back on his elbows and closing his eyes to the sky. I want to stretch out too, but I’m painfully aware that I’m just in my underwear and that the kayak with the camera guy is circling like Jaws painted yellow.

‘I had a dream,’ I say.

‘Was it a nightmare?’

‘Not all of it.’ I trace the lines of him quickly, the cut of his shoulders and torso, the dark but fine line of hair from his belly button down to the top of his black boxers. The underwear situation is kind of hilarious right now but he’s beautiful.

God.

I circle my arms around my knees, looking out at the nearest island and beyond it to the infinite nothing
. ‘How long have you been spearfishing?’ I ask. I’m dying to know exactly how see-through my bra and panties really are, now that they’re drenched. I’m guessing they’re pretty X-rated but he’s still got his eyes shut.

‘Since I was about ten years old,’ he says into the sun that’s now higher, and hot. ‘My uncle took me to -’ He trails off, furrows his brow, opens his eyes and looks back down at the fish. ‘Someplace in Montana I think. He competed in the USA World Spear fishing Championships three years straight. He won twice… maybe all three. So, what was your dream about?’

I realize I’m staring at him again; from his face to the lion tattoo. ‘There was a white bird,’ I say quickly, ‘flying above me on the beach. And a green snake.’

‘A snake?’ he says. ‘Was it attacking you?’

‘No, why? You know what it means?’

‘Snakes are considered sneaky, right?’ He sits up again, mirrors me with his arms around his knees. He has a few sand fly bites, too.

‘I guess.’

‘So, in dreams they represent something in your life that you fear. They can also symbolize an enemy or a potential threat.’

‘What about the white bird?’

‘Freedom,’ he says, looking straight into my eyes.

‘Freedom.’

He nods thoughtfully. ‘I’d say your dream was telling you that even though you’ve freed yourself from something, you have a whole new heap of shit to worry about right now. Don’t get too complacent,
M
-lister.’ He raises his dark eyebrows at me with a slight smile.

‘You’re telling me I should live in fear out here? I shouldn’t trust anyone?’ I rest my chin on my knees.

‘This is a game. Of course you shouldn’t trust anyone.’

‘Well, what about if we agree to trust each other?’ I say, before I’ve even thought it through. ‘The first challenge is coming up – no one knows how it’s going to go. We both need an ally here, right? You’re pretty good with that spear and I’m a fast learner. Plus, I can cook.’

‘You’re going to need to get good at more than lighting fires and cooking fish,’ he tells me. ‘Anyone can cook a fish.’

‘You won’t be saying that once you taste my fish,’ I reply. His eyes are locked on mine again and I catch a hint of amusement in them before something else crosses his face. Guiltily I picture his skin against mine in the dream; his lips on my stomach and thighs. It was so real, so weird. So 
not
Sebastian.

He gets to his feet, picks up the mask and spear. ‘You should head back,’ he says, ‘make sure you get your ankle cleaned up.’ He pulls the mask back down over his eyes. ‘I think it’s too soon for any alliances, Alyssa, don’t you?’ he adds, before diving off the rock into the ocean.

My bandana’s already wet around my head. The sun’s making this whole pitch a goddam furnace. There’s a line of sweat trickling between Alyssa’s breasts that I shouldn’t keep looking at, but I can’t help it.

‘The name of the game, castaways,’ Ed Bernstein explains, ‘is to carry as many of these fish over to those buckets as you can.’ He’s pointing from his place on the sandy pitch to where two huge buckets are sitting on scales, maybe twenty feet away.

‘The catch is that you must
not
use your hands, or your feet. You must use only your mouths,’ he follows. He’s pacing between us in his gleaming white shirt. ‘The first team to get enough fish to tip the scales and raise their flag will walk away the winners.’

I look from the heap of dead silvery fish on ice in front of us, to where Journey looks like she’s struggling to hold back her vomit already. She’s not on my team for this, luckily - they’ve split us up.

‘Now listen! Each person in your team must carry each fish at least once between
here
…’ Ed points to our target, ‘and
there
. The prize? Swimsuits for your team of five, a beach BBQ
and
an open bar. Now, we know how much some of you could do with a drink already.’

Shan’s nodding his head. Alyssa’s squeezing Stephanie’s hand. Mike folds his arms, throws me a look. It’s obvious what they’re doing; stirring up animosity between us, forcing us into two tribes. The losers of this challenge will have to sit around watching the others having fun and what better way to get us all wound up at each other instead of pulling together? Not that some people aren’t wound up already.

There’s been Mike, stomping around trying to get us all to agree to vote Shan out first. ‘He’s a threat,’ he said to me on the reef, when he joined me in attempting to spear a fish. He shot about nine dead aims before letting me do it, but the guy’s persistent.

‘Why’s he a threat?’ I asked.

‘Him and Alyssa. If he wasn’t more camp than our camp I’d say they were screwing already, but any kind of friendship like that needs to be shot down ASAP in a situation like this.’

‘They’ve known each other five seconds,’ I told him. ‘And anyway, people are bound to join forces, Mike, we’re in the middle of nowhere. What’s this really about?’

He didn’t answer me; just stared at the ocean from the rocks with his flabby sand fly bitten stomach rolling over his army pants, but we all know what it’s really about. No one else here wants Shan out first and I’m pretty sure America wouldn’t either.

‘OK ya’ll, who’s fast?’ Stephanie’s saying now, ushering us all closer and looking between us. Her blue eyes are fierce. Her forehead’s striped in blue paint. My team huddles – me, her, Mike, Karin and Alyssa. The stench of fish is already up in my nostrils.

‘They called me the pocket rocket,’ Karin pipes up. ‘I ran track.’

‘OK, but can you hack it when it comes to grabbing fish in your teeth?’ Stephanie says. Karin salutes her, pigtails bouncing beneath her tied bandana. ‘Awesome, then you pass them to me, I’ll pass to Alyssa. Alyssa, you pass to The Animal… I mean, Joshua,’ she grins, ‘and Joshua, pass to Mike. You gotta get those fish in that bucket, Mike. Is everyone OK with that?’

No one argues. I raise my eyebrows. She’s like two different people, this bossy little Southern chick. And they’ve been calling me The Animal since we got here. I haven’t asked why – most people wind up with some kind of nickname on
Deserted
. Alyssa’s still wearing her damn purple lacy bra and Shan’s been calling her Double G. Allegedly it stands for Greek Goddess and has nothing to do with her cup size. I don’t know much about cup sizes but all things considered, with her charm and personality on top, Alyssa’s without doubt the most dangerous female in this game.

‘How’s your foot for running on?’ I ask her now, motioning to her ankle as we walk to our starting points next to each other.

‘It’s fine, thank you, Joshua,’ she shoots back. I don’t miss the look she gives me; a secret smile as she flexes out her arms, ready for battle. ‘I don’t even know what you’re talking about.’

Alyssa is sexy as hell, but more than that I’m realizing she’s razor sharp - and clever. She never mentioned what happened on the reef to the others. As far as I know she dabbed some lotion on her scratch from the necessities box and acted like nothing happened. She knows any sign of weakness will be noted. Also, she never talks about the things other people want her to talk about.

‘What’s it really like dating a rock star?’ Karin asked her last night as the three of us were preparing the fish I caught.

‘Rock stars are people, too,’ she replied, glancing at the camera and taking the snapper I’d just gutted. She sliced it expertly into fillets and sprinkled each one with fresh peppercorns I found growing wild. I knew they’d be here somewhere. They grow all over Indonesia.

‘You’re doing good there, Jane,’ I told her, impulsively brushing the hair that fell from her bandana out of her eyes while her hands were busy stuffing the fillets into palm leaves for steaming.

‘You’re too kind, Tarzan,’ she replied, looking up at me and fixing me with that same mischievous look she shot me out on those rocks; the one that had me so turned on in light of her see-through wet underwear I had to dive into the damn ocean just to get away from her. ‘You’ll be happy to see I’m still a cook and not a coral reef,’ she said.

‘A coral reef?’ Karin frowned in confusion. I laughed with her but I fixed my hands to my side after that and forced them not to do anything stupid. Alyssa The Greek is starting to unnerve me. So is her purple bra.

‘Imagine how good those BBQ’d ribs will taste tonight,’ Ed Bernstein teases now, half to us, half to a camera moving round him on a dolly. ‘And that first, cold, refreshing sip of beer.’

A runner comes around and ties our hands behind our backs with coarse rope. We spread out in our places on the sandy pitch as the other team do the same and I see Jaxx swipe his arm across his forehead, streaking his red tribal paint. It’s so goddam hot – the viewers at home will never know how much. It fogs up my brain. We're all hungry and covered in bites and it hasn't been a week but people are tense. The outcome of this game could change everything.

Ed holds up his hand. ‘OK castaways, you have three minutes! Get those fish moving… NOW!’

A buzzer sounds out and Karin’s face is straight on the ice, yanking the tail of a fish up. ‘Pass it to me, here,
here!
’ Stephanie shrieks as Karin runs full throttle towards her. I watch their faces clash together as Stephanie grabs the side of the fish in her mouth like a pit bull.

‘Bring it to me!’ Alyssa yells now and Stephanie spins to make a run for it, but the fish slides from her mouth and onto the floor.

‘Damn!’

‘Blues - one fish DOWN!’ Ed hollers from the sidelines and a camera guy hurries to get a shot of it in the sand as Stephanie curses and Karin rummages for another fish. Again she runs to Stephanie but beside us, Shan’s spitting his team’s first fish into the bucket across the pitch and they’re all cheering.

‘REDS, picking up speed now…’

‘Clamp it with your teeth, don’t be a pussy!’ Mike bellows from the other end of our line and this time the transition from Stephanie happens as it should. Alyssa’s grappling to grab the fish in her mouth. ‘Hold it, hold it tight, bring it to me!’ I say to her as she turns.

The whole field is full of people yelling now. Alyssa’s heading straight for me, eyes full of fire beneath her bandana. ‘Don’t drop it,’ I tell her, watching her hurry, arms behind her back, chest bouncing, cut off pants hanging on her hips. Her lips are locked tight around the fish and in seconds we’re cheek-to-cheek, shoulder to shoulder and I’m tearing it from her teeth like I really am an animal.

I dart to Mike, who grabs it from me and spits the slippery carcass into the bucket, loudly. ‘YES!’ he whoops straight into a camera lens.

‘Blues, one in, good job, let’s get another, let’s go Karin!’ Ed comments, just as the red team let out an agonized shriek. Mia’s dropped a fish straight out of Journey’s mouth, and Journey is on the verge of a breakdown. Her face is a thunderstorm.

Stephanie’s running for Alyssa again; and Alyssa's waiting, hunched over, ready to take it by the tail this time. ‘Use those teeth!’ Mike instructs and as Alyssa latches onto it with her mouth and turns I see the disgust in her eyes as blood spills out of its gills. ‘Hold it!’ I urge her as she comes at me again. She looks like one of the zombies I used to have to kill.

‘It’s not a pretty picture,’ Ed says, ‘but think of the prize…’

There’s blood on her chin, her brown eyes are blazing. Our heads almost knock each other out before I can get the thing off her, but in another three seconds Mike has snapped it up and dropped it into the bucket.

‘One minute twenty left,’ Ed calls. Again and again I grab the fish from Alyssa and pass them to Mike, until a massive cheer sounds out from the other team. Their scales have almost tipped.

‘So close, reds… look at these guys flying now. Will
this
be the one to raise the flag? The ribs are marinating. The sausages are ready to sizzle…’

‘Get the biggest one!’ I shout to Karin, who’s leaning over the fish on ice. ‘You can do this. Let's go!’

Someone curses loudly in the other team. Shan’s dropped another fish. ‘Watch yourselves reds, no more mistakes,’ Ed warns as they all groan and start again.

Alyssa’s passing me one more. She holds onto it tight, making sure I’ve got it in my teeth before letting go. I run to pass it to Mike and Ed counts down: ‘Five, four, three…’

‘Come on ya’ll, bring this home!’ I hear Stephanie holler at full volume as Mike drops the fish into the bucket and our blue flag is raised with a jerk against the palm tree backdrop. The buzzer sounds out.

The girls erupt. ‘Congratulations BLUES!’ Ed roars as the runner hurries back around and slashes the ropes binding our wrists.

Mike’s jumping up and down on the sand, pumping his fists. Stephanie throws her arms around Karin in excitement just as Alyssa runs back to me full throttle and jumps into my arms, wrapping her legs around my waist for a moment, squeezing me hard with every muscle in her body. ‘Nice work,
animal
,’ she says against my neck and just as quickly she’s back on the sand again, pulling Stephanie to her.

‘Commiserations reds,’ Ed says. ‘No swimwear or BBQs for you just yet, I’m sorry, but there
will
be other chances for you to up your game. So blues, can you nominate one person to come and collect your prize, please?’

‘Go on up, Alyssa,’ Stephanie urges her, still with her hand in Karin's and I watch our goddess step up to him with a sheen of sweat and fish blood all over her chest. A beautiful, triumphant apocolyptic zombie. Weird.

She accepts the bag in Ed’s hands. ‘This better have my best bikini in it,’ she says with a made-for-TV wink, holding it up victoriously. And I don’t miss how her eyes fall back to mine once she’s said it.