Losing You (Finding You Series Book 2) (2 page)

Not too far away floated a piece of wing that looked solid enough to lie on. It might just do as my life raft. I was desperate to get out of the water.

It was easier to kick with my good leg lying on my side, so inch by inch I drifted out of the fuel infested water surrounding the immediate crash zone, towards my only chance of survival. With each kick I cried out, a mix of determination, frustration and pain.

Hauling my agonized, weary body up and onto the floating mass, I collapsed onto my stomach, drawing my knees up into the recovery position. For now, being out of the water would keep me safe.

The soggy flesh surrounding my fibula bone had stopped bleeding but my leg was numb. Nerves had probably been severed, which was a blessing in disguise. It was better not to feel anything.

My now shriveled fingers shook as they squeezed the plastic clasps on the life jacket to gain access to the tee underneath that would act as a bandage for my leg.

Wringing out the sodden fabric, I wrapped the blouse around my lower leg twice and used the sleeves to secure it. Infection in a wound of that caliber would finish me off. Hopefully the salt water would help keep it sterile.

The dizziness now broadened as I sprawled over my new home, completely exhausted. I closed my eyes and fell into nothingness.

Chapter Two

Dakota

Partial visibility steam-rolled in as I roused from semi-consciousness. My raft had drifted away with the rise and fall of the ocean. I was a bobbing dot in the infinite seascape.

I rolled onto my back and looked up at the night sky, shivering as the cool air brought goose bumps to my hot skin. The blistering sun beating down all day had all but cooked me, leaving little skin unscathed.

I had no idea what the time was or how much time had elapsed. I did however know that I was all alone and very scared. There were no birds or animals to keep me company, just the stars and the vast ocean.

Was I ever going to be found? I had to be. I had much to do, didn’t I? Going by my Gran, I did. Surely, the authorities had been notified by now and a search was underway. It brought little comfort, knowing I could have floated for miles, possibly drifting outside any search area.

Ugh! This was the most fucked up my life had ever been. I’d much rather have been living with my ex-husband putting up with whatever he dished out to me than this.

Kyle’s dimpled smile morphed into my mind. My darling Kyle! Just thinking of him broke my heart into millions of tiny pieces. I should be back on the island with him. I should have stayed. Leaving was a choice that would haunt me forever.

I needed him now, to hold me and tell me that everything would be fine. I longed to smell his aftershave and feel his hairless chest against my cheeks. If I listened hard enough, I could almost hear the gentle rhythm of his beating heart.

He always managed to make me laugh or smile. He made me feel like the only woman on earth. At this point, it felt like that was the case.

What will happen to our love now? Does Kyle even know the plane crashed? He’ll be expecting my call from New York and will worry when he doesn’t receive it.

Lying half naked, just in my bra and shorts, my sandals having been torn off, battered and bruised, it almost felt comfortable and safe. I’d lain like this in my own home so many times, wondering how to survive another day, yet against all odds; I always had.

Westerly gales blustered in, pushing me further into oblivion.

My grip tightened around the sides of my raft, rocking and rolling as if in a giant washing machine. At that point, I put the life jacket back on in case the wind thrust me back into the water.

I let my mind slip back in time to when I was growing up in the suburbs of Australia.

Life had been so simple. My parents had done all the worrying and stressing about life’s problems. I had been free to play and laugh with my friends every afternoon. Peggy and Hannah lived around the corner and were always coming over to play at the stream at the back of our house. We’d spend hours trying to catch the little fish that cleverly eluded us, darting in and out of the rocks. Nearby in a tall river gum tree, Dad built a dream cubby house. It was high up and a long ladder was needed to reach it. It was my castle. My fortress. No one was allowed to enter without prior authorization. We three girls treated it like our own house, playing like grownups with the miniature tea set and plastic pots and pans. Oh, they had been precious times. I could still hear the sound of the running water forcing its way over the large rocks after a solid night’s rain. The smell of the earth when the sun came out to dry everything up. What had happened to that carefree girl and those carefree times?

***

Eventually, the sky lightened and the breeze died down. I’d failed sleep miserably, scared to let my guard down in this God-forsaken place. One rogue wave and it would all be over. The sun rose its weary head up and over the horizon, giving me a better glimpse at my new world. By some miracle, I’d hoped to see a hint of land in the distance but in every direction the sky met the sea. It was the most depressing sight I’d ever seen.

There was no sign of anything. I should have tried to stay near the crash site to give myself some chance of being found but I’d passed out without even realizing it.

The tears came cascading hard now as my chest heaved with each breath. The rescuers would find nothing but dead bodies and assume there had been no survivors. I was totally screwed.

The breathtaking sunrise failed to lighten my mood, bringing back memories of Kyle and me sitting on our cliff watching the sunset. Our special place that he’d told me to go to whenever I was feeling lonely or depressed. I’d never needed that place more than now.

Closing my raw, dry, exhausted eyes, my mind pictured the cliff face with the crashing waves below. The smell of the grass and the wildflowers in the air tickled my senses and the sea eagles continued to fly in circles, looking for food. Kyle’s warm hand slipped around my waist, pulling me close. Small wrens flitted about busily, pulling strands of grass to take for their nests. I recalled enjoying the full, red sunsets, thinking at the time how romantic they were, sitting with the man of my dreams, staring out at the bright glowing sky, contemplating the future. A far cry from the mind-set evoked last night as the fiery ball disappeared over the horizon. It had brought nothing but sadness as I had lain broken in the great void.

God, I love him! I need him so much now. Please let me find my way back to him. Please, God.

My stomach gurgled and growled from hunger so I tried not to think about food. I had a feeling it was going to get a lot worse.

Floating, assessing my life, large cracks on the surface of the wing caught my attention. There was an intricate pattern of lines, intertwining together to form a network. I focused on the lines, some so delicate and dainty that they were barely visible, while others looked like giant crevices eating into the metal. For the next long while, the time was passed trying to count all the intricate lines, letting all else slip from my mind. It seemed like a worthwhile pastime, considering the other alternative. Thinking. To think would be to allow the truth of what had transpired to tighten its hold.

“Just look at the cracks. Count how many cracks there are. Focus on the cracks,” I almost sang to myself in a pathetic, delusional chorus. I hummed the tune as my fingers traced the outline of cracks, forwards and backwards, forwards and backwards.

I wondered if insanity was starting. I’d always heard that if people were left alone long enough they’d eventually go a bit looney. How long would that take? Maybe I was a quick learner and was already on my way. Solitude normally didn’t bother me. In fact, I’d always cherished it. Probably because I’d known that I could always contact someone. Now, the isolation was crippling and I felt as if I was losing myself to hell.

Movement out of the corner of my eye had me sit up. Serious movement! I swiveled around and around, searching for something. Anything. I was horrified to discover that it was a fin and it was heading closer. My leg had started bleeding again and the blood was trickling through my shirt, and down onto the wing, and into the water. It was only a small amount but enough to draw a sensory predator. Although I couldn’t be sure if it was a shark fin or a dolphin fin, I wasn’t waiting to find out. I squeezed into a tiny ball in the middle of the debris, using my hand to smear any blood across the wing, destroying the thin path it took into the water.

Shit! I didn’t want to look but I had to. The dark grey arc was cutting through the water stealthily, as if on a mission. It took only seconds to reach me, circling the wing, honing in with its exceptional senses. It was definitely a shark. The size of the creature was massive as it lurked hungrily, waiting for my foot to slip over the edge. My breathing turned into quiet puffs as I lay still like a statue, waiting for the shark to lose patience. He was all but upon me before he disappeared underneath. My heartbeat seemed to make the raft rock to and fro as it pounded rapidly against my rib cage.

The predator paced backwards and forwards underneath, waiting for an easy meal. I wasn’t about to give it the satisfaction as I tightened the shirt that covered my wound. All my faculties were on overdrive, sharp as a pin in such a weakened condition.

The sun remained a burden, with not one cloud to cover it for even a second. My skin was starting to rise into opaque blisters, some of which had already popped and were weeping.

All the while, the raft had drifted further into the unknown with the shark tailing me. It was the only company I’d had since the crash. Not exactly my first choice.

Against any control I had, consciousness washed in and out as I lay down in a heap waiting for my destiny to be chosen, hoping that when the black found me the shark wouldn’t strike.

Chapter Three

Kyle

Sapphire Island was gearing up for the holiday influx. July was busy tourist-wise and there was much preparation, maintenance, cleaning, and repairs to undertake for the arrival of around one hundred guests.

I was on location, getting makeup done, wondering why Dakota hadn’t called me yet. She left yesterday and would have well and truly reached New York. In fact, she’d be on her connecting flight to Australia.

Maybe her cell had run out of power. Still, I couldn’t help but worry as I tried to ignore the niggling ache in my gut. I needed to hear her voice and know that she was okay. I was missing her dreadfully. Already, she seemed so far away.

I jumped slightly when I heard, “Hey Kyle! Mind if I have a word?”

Turning, I discovered Hayden had quietly walked up and stood about a foot away.

“Hi, Hayden. What brings you down here? We hardly ever see you out of the kitchen. Did Ramah give you the day off for good behavior?” I joked, trying to crack a smile through his somber expression. When it failed to, I became quiet. “What’s up?”

Hayden’s neck bulged as he seemed to swallow hard and take a deep breath. “I think you’d better come over here with me. Can I borrow him for a minute?” He looked at Franny, who was doing my makeup today.

Confusion washed over me. What would Hayden want and why would he drive over here to tell me something? A vise clamped in my chest.

“Sure,” Franny answered, allowing me to stand up and go somewhere more private with Hayden. I didn’t like the feel of where this was heading.

Once we were away from prying eyes and out of earshot we stopped and I watched Hayden grab the back of his neck and sigh out again. He looked distraught, which only further intensified my anxiety.

“There’s no easy way to say this so I may as well get it over with and just come out and say it. Ahh, there’s been an accident, Kyle.”

My legs nearly gave out at those four important words I tried to focus on. There’s been an accident.

My heart rate ratcheted up several notches as a million scenarios played out in my mind. “What’s happened? Tell me!” I shouted, unable to control myself. “Is it my family? Has someone been hurt?”

Fuck! I’ll die if my mom or dad have been hurt. It must be pretty damn serious because Hayden couldn’t look me in the eye as he spoke.

“There’s been a plane crash. I’ve just spoken to the police. Apparently, the pilot lost control. The tower noticed the plane disappear from the radar and assumed when it didn’t reach New York that it had crashed. He was correct. The air/sea rescue has scoured the crash site for survivors but hasn’t found anyone alive. Not much was left of the plane. The fuel ignited on impact. It doesn’t look good, I’m afraid.”

I felt like I’d been soccer punched. The wind was knocked out of me. For the longest second my mind struggled to catch up with my ears. The words on Hayden’s lips sounded as if they were being spoken to someone else. This wasn’t my conversation. These kinds of things didn’t happen to me.

“I’m sorry. I’m still in shock. We’ve never had a plane go down before from the island. It was only in the air around thirty minutes. I don’t know what to say.” Hayden looked devastated.

A gentle squeeze of my shoulder did little to soften the blow as I sank to the ground.

“Noooo! Oh God, no! She can’t be gone! She can’t be! There has to be some mistake! You’ve got the wrong flight. There’s a perfectly logical reason why she hasn’t called me. Her cell phone is dead and she can’t charge it. Yeah, that’s it. I’m sure you’re wrong!” I fought for some shred of hope. It had to all be a huge mistake.

“I wish it was. The flight never landed. It never arrived. They’ve started recovering bodies.”

I let out a strangled howl, gripping my head, feeling the pain radiate out from my heart on a destructive path to my brain.

Sinking fully down onto the grass, I sat with my knees pulled up so I could drop my head between my legs and cry.

I couldn’t fucking believe this! It had to be a nightmare! How often did planes crash in the whole scheme of things? She was more likely to get hit by a car walking down the street.

I felt Hayden’s hand on my back in an effort to comfort me but it was pointless. I was destroyed beyond repair. I could distantly hear my heaving grunts as I shook with the sickening blow.

The fire quickly spread from my stomach, up my chest, and into my head, bringing with it extreme nausea. I turned sideways, feeling the acid rise, heaving onto the grass. I couldn’t stop it, and before long the entire contents of my stomach were sitting beside me in a scattered heap.

Hayden must have gone to find Jacob Edwards, the movie director, because he was talking to me. Or maybe he was yelling. I couldn’t tell because my brain couldn’t understand what he was saying as I drowned in grief.

I gagged some more but nothing came out so I laid myself down on the grass, hoping the ground would swallow me up.

“Is everything all right here? Kyle, what’s going on?” Jacob asked, his voice laced with concern. I couldn’t even bring myself to answer as I clenched my stomach and rolled onto my side, feeling another wave of nausea hit.

Hayden was murmuring something about the crash, explaining why I was a crumpled mess on the ground.

“Goddam! I’m so sorry, Kyle! Shit!” I felt someone bend down to me.

“Come on, pal. We need to get you inside. Here, let me help you up.” It was Jacob.

I didn’t move. I couldn’t. I felt two hands grab me under the armpits and haul me to my feet, holding on so I didn’t topple over again.

A couple of the other crew had walked over to have a look but I was barely there.

“Tony, go and grab a vehicle and bring it over, will you? We need to get Kyle out of here,” Jacob barked.

“Sure, boss. No problem.”

My head seemed to loll on my shoulders like a floppy ragdoll because I just wasn’t strong enough to lift it.

“I didn’t get to know her very well, but she seemed like a great girl. Take a few days off. You’ve only got one more scene left to wrap up and then you can head home. You need to be with your family.”

At the word family I started sobbing again, the emotional wreck that I was. My family meant everything to me and just the thought of seeing them again had me choked up more.

They would never get to meet Dakota now. I’d only been thinking yesterday how much they would love her. How much I was looking forward to showing her around LA.

Christ! Things could change in the blink of an eye and we were all powerless against fate.

I’d never felt so fragile before.

I was slowly led over to a black SUV that had driven up the curb and onto the grass. Tony got out and opened the passenger door for me.

Like a sleepwalker, I got in and was buckled up by someone and then I heard movement in the back seat, doors closed, and we were on the move.

No one spoke and for that I was thankful. Even the sound of the engine was too loud.

I let my head fall to the window as I looked out at nothing in particular, letting the world pass by in a blur.

Each bump made me feel like I was going to have to wind the window down and throw up again but I knew that I was empty. Empty of everything.

When we got back to the resort, I was led to my hut, not even remembering anything about the walk through reception, out into the pool area, and down the path through the tropical jungle.

I found myself curled up in a ball on my bed, facing the wall. My shoes had been removed and I was all alone.

When dusk fell over the island, I still hadn’t moved. I was in the same position as I’d started in, knees gathered into my chest, arms wrapped around them.

Over and over again in my head I replayed my version of the plane crash and how she would have suffered. What were her last thoughts? Words? Who had she been sitting next to? Had she known she was going to die? It was brutal torture.

Numbness swallowed my body as the sun all but vanished.

“Beautiful girl, why did you have to be taken from me so suddenly? Why didn’t you stay here with me on the island, instead of leaving? If only I’d insisted.” I felt cheated.

If only I hadn’t agreed to her going home to be with her father. I’d be holding her right now vowing to never let her go. I had wanted more than anything to talk her out of going but out of respect for Mr. Livingston, I had held back.

I’d only ever had to deal with the loss of a grandparent. I figured death wasn’t so hard when the person had lived a full, long life. I just couldn’t comprehend that someone as young and vibrant as Dakota could be taken away so quickly, and after all she had already suffered, it just didn’t seem fair.

And all because of that fucking retard of an ex-husband. He did this! It was all his fault! He killed her. He finally got his wish! Someday, I would make that asshole pay.

Our sacred place up at the cliff could never be our sacred place anymore. It was now only mine.

Life seemed pointless.

Slipping into sleep, vivid images of the crash became my new reality. I could see the aircraft dropping from the sky into the water below and I could hear Dakota’s screams. I was trying to save her but just when she was about to grab onto my hand, she disappeared and became lost in the mangled wreckage.

Beads of sweat glistened on me in the moonlight when I jerked awake. I felt like I’d just run a marathon. Getting up to use the bathroom, my reflection in the mirror failed to startle me. I looked how I felt. The distress I was enduring couldn’t be clearer if it was written in pen. The sparkle in my eyes had been replaced with listless, fully dilated pupils, dark and somber.

I needed her. I wanted her, if only for one last time to feel her in my arms again. I wished I could turn back the hands of time. Doing the right thing had cost me everything.

Sleep was pointless. I didn’t fancy falling helplessly into another detailed rerun of the crash. At least while I was awake I could try to control my thoughts, no matter how hard that was. Rising in the quiet of night, I silently slid out the door and found myself standing outside the hut Dakota had stayed in. It sat in darkness almost mocking me, empty and hollow—just like I felt. The curtains were drawn closed as if in respect for her passing. Her footprints in the sand had been erased by the ravages of wind that constantly shifted and changed the coastline.

I turned the handle after a moment’s hesitation, expecting it to be locked, surprised when the door opened.

Inside, her scent immediately hit me and I desperately fumbled for the light switch, expecting her to be there waiting for me, but there was nothing. She really was gone.

I was powerless to control my feeling of loss. I breathed in her scent, knowing it was all I had left.

I padded over to the bed. The bed where we’d made love. She had enlightened my life, like a rosebud drinking in the morning sun, enabling it to fully open and flourish. That rosebud was now wilted and half dead.

Glancing around the room, my eyes rested on a piece of paper that lay on the bedside table. The cleaning lady must have missed it.

Picking it up, the smell of Dakota’s perfume became stronger. My name was scribbled on the front in cursive handwriting. I wondered why there would be a letter addressed to me on the bedside table.

Did I want to open it? Just looking at my name and the way it was written, I knew who had penned it and I held my breath, closing my eyes for a minute, debating on whether or not I would be able to read whatever was written inside.

I hadn’t noticed it when we’d left the room yesterday morning in our hurry to reach the airport.

The yes-no game played tug of war with me. I went to open it and then closed it again, letting out my breath.

Whatever shred of my heart was left, I knew that the words inside would totally destroy it.

Sucking in air and letting it go, in and out a few times, I opened it and started to read:

My darling love,

Ramah said there was no one going to be occupying this room for a few days, so I’d be able to leave this letter here for you to read. And if you didn’t stop by—well, Ramah was going to give it to you before you left the island. I knew you would miss me and would want to spend time in the place where we shared so much, though. Was I right? Ha ha! I knew it! I hope you read this before I call you from New York as I’ll want to know your reaction. I’ve written it the day before leaving the island. You were out on location today so it gave me time to write. I can’t bear the thought of being out of your arms for so long. I figured this letter might make your day and give you a sense of me being there with you. These last two weeks have truly been a gift from God for me. You’ve shown me that happiness is not out of the question for someone who’s suffered a lot of pain in the past. I can’t imagine living without you and can’t wait until we are together again. What a reunion it will be!