Page 38 of Uncharted Desires

“Shit, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“West.” She looked straight into his eyes, annoyance written on her face. “No offense, but right now, I need you to shut up and help me. This is going to hurt, and I need you to stop blaming yourself. We can get back to doing that later. ’Kay?”

He nodded, wanting to worship the ground she walked on, his goddess. “Now, pour the alcohol on me.” She took a deep breath, steeling herself against the pain she was about to endure, and then nodded for him to continue.

The alcohol burned at her skin like acid and an unearthly scream emerged from her throat as it washed away dried blood and filth.

Fighting her tears, she shook uncontrollably until finally, the worst was over. Her arm stung like a thousand fire ants had taken up residence beneath her skin.

When she got a chance to better examine the wound, she could see it was deep and the blood was still oozing out. “I’m going to have to stitch this up, and I’m going to need you to hold my arm down.”

He looked ill at ease, and she wasn’t sure if it was his disbelief in her abilities, or just stitching in general.

“Have you done this before?”

“What? Stitched up human flesh? That would be a no.”

“Well, that’s great. Sweetheart, are you sure we can’t just put one of those big gauze bandages on it?” He said it in one of his most soothing tones, and while she knew she shouldn’t like the endearment, her stupid heart betrayed her, fluttering in her chest.

“It’s too deep. It needs to be stitched. I can weave a mean basket or sew a ribbon skirt. What’s the difference?”

His eyes went wide, his mouth gaped, and it would have been almost comical if the situation hadn’t been so dire. Kat held back a smile. She knew this was nothing like basket weaving or sewing up the hem of her skirt for her tour costume, but she had to do it. West shook his head as he examined the wound. “I’m certain there’s a big difference. Not to mention sewing your own flesh.”

“That’s why I need you to hold me down.” This man was not being helpful. What part of she needed to be stitched up or she might bleed to death did he not get? She was on borrowed time as it was. The bleeding had slowed, but it hadn’t stopped and that was concerning.

“Christ, Kat, this is a horrible idea.”He poured the alcohol on the needle and held it up to her, grumbling in disagreement. He moved to her uninjured side so his arms could wrap around her in a big bear hug.

She trembled as she held the needle. A bead of sweat trickled down her face as she drew closer and closer to the wound. With a burst of courage, she pierced her skin, stifling an agonized scream as she felt each tug. Forcing her eyes open, she bit her bottom lip hard to distract her from the pain.

With steady hands, she continued sewing the gaping wound shut, feeling sick at the numbing sensation that came with pulling the thread through. Each stitch was a reminder that this was what she had chosen to do—there was no going back now. After the final stitch, West applied antiseptic before bandaging it up. Her stitches were sloppy, but they would have to do—a reminder of this experience forever imprinted onto her skin.

She collapsed into West’s arms when he was done bandaging her, the exhaustion of stitching herself up racking her whole body.

“That was incredible,” he said, stroking her hair. “I can’t believe you just stitched yourself up like that.”

“Maybe I should go to med school,” she joked, her voice sounding distant and not her own.

“That would be a waste of your talent.”

Kat felt a tear burn its way down her cheek, the warmth only fueling the questions running through her mind. Did he really think she was talented? Despite what he’d said, his actions over the past decade seemed to suggest otherwise.

“You don’t have to lie to me, West.”

His hand glided lightly against her back and brushed the sensitive skin of her neck as he said, “I’m not.” He roamed over her body, and she relished the easy intimacy between them. “I seem to be a bit of an idiot about what was right behind me for quite some time.”

She felt a blush creep up, unsure what to say to that. Confusion clouded her thoughts as she tried to make sense of his unspoken words. Was this an apology for all the times he had pushed her away when she’d tried to collaborate musically after their hallway tryst? Or was there something more romantic at play here?

“We’re going up the mountain,” she said, deciding to change the subject.

He looked down at her. “You’re exhausted. You don’t need to risk your life by going up there.”

“I want to see what’s up there. It’s our only way off this island.”

“And arguing with you is pointless?”

“I’m glad you’ve figured that out sooner rather than later.” She reached up, spreading her fingers through his beard. She had never thought facial hair was that attractive, but on West it made him more ruggedly attractive, no longer the “pretty boy” rockstar.

His hand covered hers, and he closed his eyes. Kat knew there was something between them, but what happened when they left the island? When this experience was over, and they went back to real life, all of this would go away, and they would be themselves again. West would still be the international superstar who left Kat alone in a dark hallway and would easily do it again.