Page 66 of Lucky 14

“Holli, he could be following us.”

She acts like she can’t even hear me.

I follow after her, jogging to step around in front of her. She just moves around me without even listening, sniffling a little like she’s trying to hold back tears.

“Holli.” I grab her arm, and she looks at me like it’s the first time she’s seeing me. There’s terror in her eyes, and she opens her mouth to scream.

Fuck. I squat down, ducking under Holli’s arm, I throw my shoulder under her torso and pick her up. She screams, but I head for a dark cluster of trees. She’s panicking, and I need to keep her safe.

The rain is really coming down now, soaking the top of my head, but Holli is like a hot blanket on top of me. Really hot. Unusually hot.

Fuck. Is she sick?

Making it to the trees, I duck under the brush near them. The trunks are huge, bigger than any evergreens I’ve ever seen, but there’s an area where the tree has grown over a giant boulder, and the roots make an overhang a few feet over the top. Ducking under it, I put Holli down.

She’s shivering, teeth clacking together, even though we’re mostly sheltered from the rain here, and for some reason, it makes me pissed. She doesn’t get to get sick before I can save her.

The good news is she’s stopped fighting me. Shrugging out of my backpack and shirt, I offer the shirt to her. It’s mostly dry since she kept most of the rain off my back, although I realize as soon as I hand it over that it’s the same shirt I’ve been living in for the last four days, and it probably smells.

Holli glares at it for a second, blinks slowly, then takes it from me and puts it on.

“You sick?” I ask, looking her up and down. She’s wearing dirty, ripped clothing, and her skin has a grayish look to it.

Holli shakes her head, but her teeth are chattering so hard I can hear it over the sound of the rain. For a second, I worry she’ll run again. But minutely, her head drops, and she stays right where she is, shivering. It has cooled down a bit, but it’s still so muggy out that I feel like I can’t breathe. I have no idea how she’s cold.

Digging in my backpack, I uncap the water, then hand it to Holli. She doesn’t get to refuse me on this.

She doesn’t try. She just grabs the water and guzzles it, drinking the entire thing. As I watch, a bolt of guilt twists my gut. Searching my bag, I grab a pack of peanuts and hand it to her. This time, she waves me off, looking in the bag.

I frown, but instead of picking another snack, she finds another water.

I intercept her before she can drink it. “Slow down, you’ll get sick.”

Holli tosses me a glare, her blue eyes glassy.

She clearly has a fever, and a high one at that. Helplessness grips my chest. I don’t know what to do for a fever. I don’t have any meds.

Wait.

Digging through the pack, I pull out the first-aid kit, opening it with shaking hands. There isn’t much, but there is a small pack labeled pain reliever, fever reducer. Relief hits me.

“Take this.” I shove it at Holli.

She glares at me again. Like I’m the bad guy. But, she snatches the bag from my hand, nails digging into my palm, and then she downs the meds.

Why is she so scared of me? I’ve done nothing but try to help her. But as I watch the water sheet down and puddle around our feet, I remember that the only reason either of us is here is me. This is my fault.

Anxious energy makes me bounce. The rain needs to let up so we can make it back to the villa. Surely there will be more meds there. Kyan would know where they are.

My face flushes thinking about him. He stole a kiss from me while looking like he wanted to hurt me. I kissed a man. Again. And then he went all weird.

I’m not sure why, but a chill chases across my exposed skin, and I wonder what Kyan is doing now.

No. I shut down those thoughts with a scowl. I don’t care. All I care about is that he gets us off this damn island.

My feet and legs ache, and I crouch on my heels to relieve the pressure. After a while fighting to focus on just the mud streaming in front of me, I realize that Holli is still standing, shifting uncomfortably. Narrowing my gaze, I calculate how fast I could catch her if she ran, but the longer I watch her, the more I realize she’s favoring one leg.

She turns to avoid a nasty blast of wind, hair plastered to her face. That distinct hair of hers with the streak painting a white line down her face makes me stare. She looks like a marble statue in clothes, all pale, staring out into the storm.