“Oh, this from the guy who criticized me for using my phone.” She turned on her heel and retreated to her bedroom.
He had no choice but to follow her. “Don’t be mad about yesterday. This is important.”
She was standing in front of her dresser, staring at her phone. The bed was disheveled, and good God he wanted to scoop her up and lay her down on it. But this was no time for that. “I’m planning on being mad about yesterday for as long as I feel like it.” She held her phone up over her head at a different angle, then off to the side. “And no. I’m not getting any bars, either.”
Zane still wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly yesterday afternoon when she’d said that thing about him taking away the thing she’d wanted for fifteen years. Was it really possible that she’d had some sort of crush on him all that time? And if so, what in the world was he supposed to do about that?
“I think we should grab our stuff and camp out by the marina in the hopes that somebody shows up.”
She cast a look at him that said she thought he was an idiot. “There’s no shelter out by the dock. We’d literally be standing there in the rain. Quite possibly forever.”
“Do you have a better idea? I have to think that your aunt and uncle are worried about you. That they would try to send someone to get you.”
“Angelique and Hubert have a lot on their plates right now, and they know the weather here better than anyone.” She closed her eyes tightly and shook her head. “Now, the rest of my family is another case. I don’t even want to think about Scott right now. He’s probably losing it.”
There was that name again—the reason for this state of torture he was in with Allison. “They’re probably all worried sick. I’m also thinking there’s no way they’ll let you stay here if there’s a way to safely get you back. Which is why I think we need to stay as close to the dock as possible.”
“Okay. Fine. Let’s go. It’ll just take me a minute to pack up.”
“Perfect. I’ll be back in five.” Zane ran over to his place as fast as the rain and wind would allow, and chucked everything into his backpack. By the time he returned, Allison was waiting for him.
“This is a terrible end to what should have been a perfect vacation,” she said.
Somehow, Zane sensed that she wasn’t merely talking about the weather. “I know. But I’m not going to die out here, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you, either.” Not thinking, he took her hand and led them around to the path that would eventually take them to the main office. When they arrived up at the clearing, the ground was littered with palm fronds. The trees were bowing with every new gale. “The wind is only going to get worse,” he called out, still pulling her along.
“I’m not worried about wind so much as I’m worried about the water. If there’s a big storm surge, the sea level will rise considerably. Ten feet. Maybe more. I don’t know how smart it is to wait by the dock.”
She had a point. When Falling Brook was hit by Hurricane Sandy, the storm surge had been overwhelming, flooding countless homes and businesses. People had died. It had been a disaster in every sense of the word. “We have to find a way to leave a message at the dock to let someone know we’re still here, but then we need to find the high point of the island.”
“That’s going to be the honeymoon cottage up on the hill. The one they’re renovating.”
“Won’t we be sitting ducks up there? If there are tornadoes, it could pluck the building off the top of the cliff and toss it out into the sea.” It seemed that no matter what they did, they were in deep trouble.
“It’s somewhat protected, because the back side of the building is built into the rocks. And it’s on the western side of the island, where the winds won’t be quite as strong.”
“You really know a lot about hurricanes.”
“My brother is a weather nerd.”
“Okay, well, let’s focus on the message first. Any ideas?” Zane asked, setting his backpack on the ground for a moment.
Allison let go of her small overnight bag and started untying her sarong. She was wearing the same bikini top, but this time with shorts.
“I’m not sure what kind of message you’re trying to send,” he blurted. This was not the time for him to have another moral crisis prompted by Allison disrobing.
“Everyone who works on this island has seen me wearing this. I’ll tear it into strips and we’ll tie those onto trees to lead someone up to the honeymoon cottage. We’ll start with one of the metal pilings on the dock. Hopefully that will be enough of a signal that we’re still here.”
“Do you really want to rip that up? You love it.”
Allison pulled at the fabric until it gave way and she was able to get a strip of it free. “I don’t love this thing more than I love being alive.” She waved him ahead as she made off in the direction of the small marina. “Come on.”
Zane’s mind raced as he struggled to keep up and surveyed the island landscape—the wild rustle of the palms above them and the constant sideways pelting of the rain making it seem like they were on another planet right now. It certainly felt like a different place than it had been twenty-four hours ago. This was paradise upended. Gone was the calm serenity he had sought.
They jogged ahead, breaking
