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Authors: Jennifer Lowery

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She relaxed her hand so it rested flat on the white
tablecloth. The clock on the wall read one o’clock. She’d slept more than
twenty-four hours. Yet, she felt like a zombie, running on empty.

They ate in silence. She managed to eat a couple bites and
immediately felt sick, so she pushed the food around her plate instead. Gavin
had no trouble finishing his. Disgusting pig.

Afterward, he insisted on taking her on a tour of the house
and grounds. Once outside, Alana drew in a full breath, taking in the familiar
jungle air. It only reminded her of everything she’d lost and made her long to
be back where she’d been before Gavin Ross. Not before coming to the island,
she would never regret that. She felt more comfortable here than in Boston with
her promising career and her friends. Maybe because these people were simpler,
not vain. They would never stab her in the back for fame or fortune.

As they walked across the manicured lawn, she couldn’t help
but feel someone watched her. Not the guards posted in every corner. This was
different, made the hairs on the back of her neck bristle.

She looked around, searching the jungle for signs of…what?
Ghosts? Then, feeling foolish, she said, “Can we go in now? I’m a bit tired.”

Obliging, Gavin turned them around.

Alana cast a last glance over her shoulder, seeing nothing
except green fauna. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was out
there. Watching.

* * * *

A hand landed on her shoulder, jolting Alana awake with a
scream. She opened her eyes to see Gavin standing over her bed, the lamp
lighting the room with a soft yellow glow.

“I’m up.” Rotations at the hospital during her internship
had trained her to power nap, then wake alert and oriented on demand. Sitting
upright, she rubbed her gritty eyes. What she’d been doing couldn’t be
classified as sleep. More like a nightmare.

“What is it?” A glance at the bedside clock told her it was
midnight.

“Come. It’s time.”

“Time for what?” She climbed out of bed. She had put on a
pair of surgery scrubs to sleep in, since Gavin only provided her with flimsy
lingerie for nightgowns. She’d never worn that kind of thing and she wouldn’t
start now. Scrubs were much more comfortable.

“You didn’t like the nightgowns I ordered especially for
you?” Gavin asked, his eyes running over her.

“No.”

“But they were so expensive. Supposedly very sensual against
the skin.”

Alana resisted a shudder and pinned him with a hard stare.
“They aren’t my style. Why did you wake me?”

“We’ll work on that. Come with me, darling.” He crooked his
arm for her and she accepted, walking with him out of the room.

He led her downstairs, through the kitchen to a small
hallway that led to the garage. Instead of going outside, they went through
another door to a darkened set of stairs. Gavin clicked a light on and preceded
her to the bottom.

“We’re a bit off schedule.” He motioned her into a small,
sectioned room that should have been a basement. It reminded her of a waiting
room in a doctor’s office with its matching loveseat and chairs, tables with
magazines. Two men lounged in the chairs, staring at her, measuring her. For
what? Did she really want to know?

Uncertain and wary, she remained at Gavin’s side.

“Ignore them.” Gavin guided her through the door into
another room. “They are simply waiting for their items.”

“Items?”

Two guards stood sentry outside the next door. Gavin nodded
to them before he pushed open the steel door and allowed her to go first into
the brightly lit room. The metallic scents of blood and antiseptic overpowered
her. She took a step backward and covered her nose with her hand.

“What is this?” she asked, looking around the white-walled,
cement-floored room. Metal shelves lined the walls, filled with equipment and
instruments used in a hospital setting.

She had spent many, many hours in a surgical room just like
it.

Except this one had bloodstains on the floor around the
drain and smeared on the walls. This room was much cruder than any she’d ever
worked in.

Her eyes landed on the terrified man strapped to a gurney in
the middle of the room. A piece of duct tape covered his mouth. Blood dried on
his hairline. Sheer terror widened his brown eyes as he watched them and his
tanned skin held a gray pallor. Not a native to this area. A tourist?

“What is this?” Alana repeated, glancing uncertainly at
Gavin.

“This, darling, is the reason I brought you here. This is
our future.”

“What are you talking about? Who is that man? Why is he
strapped naked to a gurney?”

“Who he is makes no difference. Why he is here is the
important part. He, my darling, has something I need. Something you are going
to get for me.”

Dread slid down her spine. “And what is that?” Did she
really want the answer?

Gavin smiled. “His kidneys, liver, and pancreas.”

The door behind them opened and two men, natives of the
area, judging by their dark skin and eyes, walked in. They too wore scrubs,
shoe and head covers, masks, and surgical gloves. In their hands were small,
blue coolers.

To transport the organs, Alana thought with an edge of
panic. “No.” She shook her head. Gavin had brought her here not because he
wanted a wife, but a surgeon to harvest organs.

“Now, darling.” Gavin sent her a warning look. “I know this
is a shock, but time is of the essence. I’m sure you’ll learn your way around
quickly. All of this should be very familiar to you.”

Not even close. Did he really think she would agree to this?
It went against every oath she’d ever taken. It went against her moral code.
She hadn’t become a doctor to harvest organs. She’d become a doctor to save
people, not murder them.

“I won’t do this,” she said. “Let that man go.”

One of the men scoffed behind his mask and Gavin’s face
filled with fury. He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her from the room. Once
they were in the hallway and the door closed, his hand connected painfully with
her cheek. It caught her completely by surprise and sent her reeling into the
wall.

She covered her throbbing cheek and glared at Gavin. The two
guards didn’t even glance their way. She would get no help from them.

“You will never disobey me again,” Gavin hissed. “Not when
we’re alone and certainly not in front of my men. Do you understand me?”

Alana nodded. She’d better not anger him more.

“Now, you have a job to do. You have no choice. You will go
back in there, dress for surgery, and remove the donor’s organs. Pedro and
Diego will assist you and handle the organs once they are removed. Do you
understand?”

Donor. She was certain this man hadn’t
donated
his
organs. She’d seen the panic in his eyes.

“Yes, I understand,” Alana said woodenly. How on earth did
she get out of this?

“Good. Now go. I’ll be watching through the window.”

Alana shimmied past him and into the room, ignoring the
smirks of the two guards as she went in. Gavin stopped her at the door.

“Oh, and Alana? If you try to escape or disagree to do this,
I will be forced to deal the same fate to your precious tribe as I did the
other. So don’t disappoint me.”

And there it was. The reason he knew she would do his
bidding. He was using her family to blackmail her and she had no choice but to
obey.

With a heavy heart, Alana entered the room and prayed she
would be forgiven for what she had to do.

* * * *

Alana held a trembling gloved hand over the chest of her
patient. She’d donned gown, mask, shoe and head covers to protect herself, and
familiarized herself with the minimal equipment Gavin provided. What he hadn’t
provided was anesthetic. Her patient would be awake when she cut into his body.
It was inhumane. When she’d questioned Gavin about it, he told her to get on
with it, without compassion for the man who fought for his life on the table.

Fighting his bonds did the man no good. The straps held him
tight, limiting movement, and the gag prevented his screams. Alana knew if he
could, he would beg for his life.

She held her hand over his chest and watched it tremble. Her
hands had never shaken during a procedure. She’d written her own ticket because
of her steady hands.

A tear slid out of the corner of her eye, and was absorbed
into her mask. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, praying for a miracle that would
get her out of this situation. Gavin had the upper hand and there was no way
out. She didn’t know this man, but that didn’t make this any easier.

She wasn’t sure she could do it.

The scent of urine filled the air and another tear fell.
He’d wet himself. The body’s natural response to fear. He’d seen the scalpel,
knew what she was about to do.

At that moment her hatred for Gavin Ross consumed her,
making her hand shake even more. No one deserved this fate. Not this man and
not any other man. How many other innocent people had been murdered in this
room for their organs? The blood stains on the floor and walls were answer
enough.

But if she didn’t do this, there would be more bloodshed.
Could this be justified? One for the good of many? Did this man deserve to die
in order to save the lives of her family?

Tears streamed down her face as she looked up at the window
where Gavin watched. He returned her gaze with a hard one of his own. No
turning back. She was in this until the end, with no way out. He’d made sure of
that. Her father’s face and those of her tribe reflected in his eyes and she
turned away, the weight of what she was forced to do heavy on her shoulders.

“Forgive me.” She lowered the scalpel.

 

 

Chapter 10

 

The lights went out, plunging them into darkness. Alana’s
hand froze just above her patient’s chest. One of the men in the room cursed.
Breathing hard, she blinked to stop her tears and jerked the scalpel back.

“Relax, everyone.” Gavin’s voice came through the darkness.
“The backup generator will kick on in a few seconds.”

Alana’s spirits sank. Of course he would have a backup plan.
This was too lucrative a business not to. A few seconds passed in silence. Then
another. And still no generator.

“Where’s the lights, Ross?” one of the men in the room asked
irritably.

“Just…give me a minute,” Gavin said, equally irritated.
“Stay where you are. I’m sending someone to check it out.”

“We don’t have time for this,” someone warned.

“I know that,” Gavin snapped. “Now, shut up and let me
figure this out.”

Alana stayed still, using the reprieve to collect herself.
She heard footsteps fade into the distance, along with voices. The two men
sharing the room with her muttered between themselves, leaving her to her own
devices.

“Alana, darling, how are you doing?” Gavin asked from behind
her. Close, but not in the same room.

“Fine,” she answered curtly. Though she shook like a leaf
and felt sick.

The darkness was stifling. Her breath came in shallow pants.
She could smell the fear in the room.

A shout down the hallway broke the silence.

Gavin cursed. “Excuse me. It seems there’s an issue I must
handle.” His footsteps faded down the hall.

May he never get that thing working, she prayed silently. On
instinct she reached for her patient, thinking to comfort him. When her hand landed
on his slick skin, he jumped and started screaming behind his gag.

She snatched her hand back. “Oh, God, I’m sorry,” she
whispered, distraught. What had she been thinking? Her touch didn’t bring him
comfort. It reminded him how close he was to death.

“Who are you talking to?” one of the men asked in accented
English.

“No one,” she replied automatically, wanting to melt into
the darkness and never return to this horrible place again. Gavin had turned
her into a murderer whose hands no longer comforted, but caused fear.

He’d stolen her identity.

The man on the gurney still fought. The metal wheels
scraping on the cement floor echoed through the room and nearly drove her to
the edge.

“Make him stop,” one of the men ordered.

“I can’t,” Alana murmured, helpless. Tears gathered in her
eyes. Panic built in her chest. She had to get out of here. Couldn’t take this.
She tore off her mask, gloves and hair cover. Her gown came next. She had never
been claustrophobic before, but the blackout weighed on her already frayed
nerves.

Someone called to one of the men from outside the door and
he left the room. Her breaths came hard and fast. There was a soft thump. The
man on the gurney continued to have a meltdown. The grate of the wheels against
the floor, his stifled screams and his struggles filled the room.

The walls closed in on her.

“Stop,” she pleaded. “Please, stop moving.”

Her voice only seemed to panic him more. She covered her
ears with her hands. It didn’t help. She could still hear him.

“Fucking shut him up!” the remaining guy shouted from across
the room.

“I can’t!” Alana shouted back.

“I said shut--”

He cut off midsentence and Alana froze. Slowly, she lowered
her hands, the room suddenly silent. Even the man on the gurney went still.

Someone else was in the room with them.

Hesitantly she spoke into the darkness. “Hello?” Her breath
came in short, shallow pants. “Gavin, is that you?”

No answer. Something moved to her left.

Blood raced through her veins, her heart pounded nearly out
of her chest. Scalpel raised, she prepared to defend herself. Maybe this guy
was going to kill her for not finishing the job.

A brush of air feathered over her arm. An arm snaked around
her neck from behind, covering her mouth. She tried to scream, but nothing came
out, blocked by his palm. Terrified, she brought the scalpel down and drove it
into his leg.

A grunt of pain. “Ouch. Fuck. It’s me, Alana,” Cristian
growled in her ear. His hand tightened on her mouth. “Not another move, got
it?”

She nodded and he slowly removed his hand. She felt him
remove the scalpel from his leg, but he didn’t return it to her.

“Cristian?” she whispered.

“Don’t call me that,” came the rough response.

“What are you doing here? Where are the two men who were
here?”

“Dead.”

He moved next to her. Doing what, she had no idea.

“You really are a mercenary,” she murmured as he grabbed her
hand and dragged her with him.

He didn’t answer, just pulled her behind him.

She hesitated. “I can’t see.”

“I can. Come on.”

“You know how to get out of here?” Her shoulder bumped the
doorframe.

“Yes.”

“Wait.” She tugged on his hand, bringing him to a stop. “I
can’t leave without my patient.”

“What?” Cristian asked between clenched teeth.

“The man on the gurney. I can’t leave without him.”

He cursed, long and low. “Wait here.” He disappeared into
the room. Rustling, a stifled scream, a struggle, then a thud and silence.
Seconds later, Cristian appeared at her side.

“Let’s go.”

“Where’s my patient?”

“Over my shoulder. Now, shut up and let’s go.”

Alana grabbed his arm and followed. “He’s awfully quiet,”
she said as they made their way down what she assumed was the hallway.

“I had to hit him.”

The thump she’d heard. Poor man, though it didn’t surprise
her. He’d been through hell and couldn’t trust anyone here. Not even her.

“Gavin and his men will be coming back soon.” She stumbled
through the darkness. “Once he gets the generator working.”

“It’s in a hundred pieces.”

Alana gasped. “
You
cut the lights?”

“Stop talking.”

Pursing her lips, she followed silently, focused on not
tripping. Her eyes were slowly adjusting to the dark. She’d become accustomed
to it over time and developed decent night vision. She’d had to in order to
survive in the jungle at night.

She didn’t allow herself to think about what would happen
once Gavin discovered his bounty was missing.

“Stairs,” Cristian said and they began to climb. He didn’t
seem burdened by the extra weight he carried.

Behind them, men’s voices echoed shouts and curses.

“They’re coming,” she told Cristian.

“Let them.”

A door opened and Cristian pushed her through. It was pitch
black outside; she couldn’t see an inch in front of her face. Her eyes barely
had adjusted to the darkness inside.

“Where now?” she asked.

A gunshot exploded in the stairwell behind them. Alana
jumped and ducked. “They’re here!”

“Stay close, we’re going to be moving fast.” Cristian darted
into the night.

She followed close, breathing hard in exertion and panic.
Her spine tensed in fear that one of the bullets zinging past would hit her.

Flashlights lit up the area around them, ratcheting up her
tension. They were in the courtyard now, dodging trees and plants. In front of
her, Cristian ran with her patient dangling over his shoulder, still
unconscious. Probably for the better, because he wouldn’t like the situation
now with bullets raining around them.

“Keep up, Alana,” Cristian ordered. “They aren’t aiming for
us.”

The bullets seemed awfully close as they winged over her
head and struck trees. But he was right. Gavin needed her and he wouldn’t risk
his patient getting shot. Organs needed to be fresh in order to transplant.

Cristian moved fast, considering he carried the weight of
another body and still wasn’t fully healed from his own injuries. His night
vision must be better than hers. She struggled to see where she was going and
it slowed her down. The voices behind them pushed her harder.

“They’re fast,” she said, breathless. “Their lights are on
us.”

“Just stay close.” Cristian veered left into the jungle.

They were forced to slow down in order to move through the
foliage. Finally, she could catch her breath. She’d thought herself in shape
until now.

“Where are we?”

“The beach. I have a boat anchored a mile out.”

Leave the island?

Alana stopped. “No, I won’t leave.”

The lights and voices were getting closer.

“We don’t have time for this.”

“I can’t leave.”

“We aren’t leaving. I need you safe so I can finish the
job.”

Safe. He was going to keep her on his boat while he killed
Gavin. Considering what Gavin had almost made her do, she hoped Cristian put a
bullet in him. Better than he deserved for all the innocent people he’d
murdered.

If Cristian eliminated Gavin, the threat on the island would
be gone. She and her family would be able to live in peace. A win, win
situation.

“You can’t fight them all,” she said. “There’s too many.”

“I’m good at what I do. Move it, Doc.”

Standing here would only get them caught. She didn’t want to
go back to that place, so she started pushing through the jungle with Cristian,
trusting him to get them to the beach.

Her life was in his hands. She only prayed he’d be able to
get them to safety, because Gavin Ross would not stop until he found her.

* * * *

Fool.
Slade put Alana’s patient down on the sandy
beach. He should be swimming alone to his boat, mission completed, and on his
way home instead of hiding an idealistic doctor and her patient. What the hell
had she been doing in Ross’s basement? He probably didn’t want to know.

From the moment he’d started scouting Ross’s estate, waiting
for the shot, it had been FUBAR--Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition. When he saw
Alana parading around with Ross, dressed to kill and looking ready to implode,
it had sealed the deal. Slade didn’t know what she was doing there, didn’t
care. But he hadn’t liked it. Not one damn bit.

This woman continually messed up his plans. He wasn’t on the
island to save a life. He was there to take one.

“What now?” Alana dropped down on the beach and began to
assess her patient. The sun cast a warm morning glow across the serene beach.

“You stay here while I swim to the boat and bring it back.”

She looked up at him, her cheek swollen. Someone had hit her
hard enough to leave a mark. “Your leg is bleeding,” she said. “Give me your
shirt.”

Unable to stop himself, Slade reached out and cupped her
chin, tilting her face to the side. Anger seethed through him at seeing her
soft flesh marred by someone’s hand.

“Ross did this?” he asked.

She pulled away. “Give me your shirt. I need to look at that
leg and cover my patient.”

Slade tugged his shirt off and handed it to her, watching as
she used it to cover her patient’s midsection.

“Will we be safe here?” she asked, her hands moving over her
patient.

“For now. Take this.” He held out his Glock 19.

She looked at it as if it were a poisonous snake. “I don’t
like guns.”

Slade bent down and pressed the gun into her palm. “Aim and
squeeze the trigger, Alana. There are fifteen rounds in the magazine, one in
the chamber.”

She looked down at the gun in her hand, then at him. “I’m
not a soldier, Cristian.”

“You don’t have to be to shoot a gun. Aim and shoot,” he
repeated, rising to his feet. “Call me Slade.” He turned and plunged into the
ocean before she could argue. It would take him sixteen minutes to swim to the
boat. Ross’s men would be tromping through the jungle looking for them, not
heading for the beach.

He swam faster. There was always a chance.

His cabin cruiser was right where he’d left it, anchored in
a small cove, out of sight. He sped toward the beach seventeen minutes later,
the twin-turbocharged 1,350 horsepower engines purring. As he approached the
shore, he saw Alana struggling with her patient. The man jumped to his feet and
pushed her backward into the sand. His face contorted with a mixture of fear
and panic.

Slade watched Alana hold up her hands in a non-threatening
gesture, then cursed when her patient looked around, wild-eyed. The best thing
she could do was stay away from him until he calmed down. The man was a ticking
time bomb.

Alana reached out to him and Slade watched the man come
unglued. He jumped back, screamed like a lunatic and leaped on her, knocking
her to the ground. As his fists pummeled her, Slade pushed the boat to its
limit, blind with rage.

Seconds later, he vaulted over the side of the boat and
landed in the sand. He came up behind the man and snaked an arm around his
neck, dragging him off Alana.

This man would die for hurting her.

* * * *

One minute Alana was being attacked, the next she stared
into the cold, lethal eyes of a killer. A man she recognized, but didn’t know.
Cristian had her patient by the throat, his head cocked awkwardly to the side.
The man was terrified, sensing he was very close to death.

On her knees, she reached toward Cristian. “Stop,” she
pleaded. “Please. He didn’t mean to hurt me. He’s afraid of me. Cristian,
please, listen to me.”

Every muscle in Cristian’s body was taut, primed. With one
small move he could snap the man’s neck.

She rose to her feet and approached slowly. Her patient now
begged her with his eyes to save him. He knew his life was in her hands once
again. Only this time she wasn’t holding a scalpel.

She reached out and touched Cristian’s arm, his muscles
coiled beneath her fingers. “Cristian,” she said softly. “It’s okay. He didn’t
hurt me. He’s scared, that’s all. Let him go.”

Something shifted in his eyes. She was getting through to
him. Nodding slowly, she eased his arm from around her patient’s neck.

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