Just a Bit Wrecked (Straight Guys #11) - Alessandra Hazard Page 0,2

to feel sorry for that bigoted dick, but it was impossible not to. “She’s dead,” he said, a little softer, glancing at the unnatural angle of her neck. He pressed his fingers to her throat, just to be sure, and wasn’t surprised not to find the pulse. “I’m sorry for your loss, but we have to move. You can’t stay here. Carry her out.”

He didn’t wait for the guy to follow his instructions. There was no time to babysit him: judging by the height of the waves, they had very little time left. So Logan busied himself with getting the carry-on bags out of the plane, and then all the food and water he could find. He had no idea when rescue would come, so it was better to be prepared than not.

At some point, the other man must have moved, because he wasn’t in the plane when Logan returned after putting the bags on a higher point of the beach.

Rubbing his aching ribs, Logan looked around the rapidly flooding plane, searching for anything that might be remotely useful. He grabbed a handful of blankets, pillows, and some tools, and glanced at the cockpit. The plane’s communication system didn’t seem to work. He could only hope the plane had sent a distress signal before crashing and that rescue would be coming soon.

The water had already reached his waist, so Logan left the plane, figuring he’d done all he could.

He deposited everything next to the bags and pulled out his phone. No signal, as expected. That would have been too easy.

Running a hand over his face, Logan sighed and turned toward the bodies. He hesitated. If they were rescued soon, burying the bodies would be pointless, but he didn’t like the idea of leaving them unburied in such heat. So he went to work.

Digging three graves with rudimentary, limited tools proved to be long, exhausting work, and by the time he was done, Logan was sweating profusely, his bruised ribs aching. He pulled off his drenched shirt, washed it in the ocean, and left it to dry on a rock.

Then he grabbed a bottle of water and went in search of the other guy. As much as he didn’t like that dick, he didn’t want him to die of dehydration.

He found him around the bend of the island, by a tall palm tree. Andrew was kneeling in front of a shallow mound of sand. A grave. He was covered in sand, his hands dirty and bloodied.

Logan frowned. Had he dug the grave with his hands?

“Hey,” he said. “You should get some water into you.”

The guy didn’t move, still hunched over the grave. He was breathing raggedly, his breath coming out in harsh gasps. Or sobs.

“Are you hurt?” Logan said, eyeing him with mixed feelings. As much as he hated the thought of being stranded on some godforsaken island with a bigot, the guy had just lost his wife. A nice, lovely woman who had spent the flight trying to defend her homophobic husband. If Logan remembered correctly, she had mentioned that they’d been married for nine years. Nine years with one person was a long time. Logan couldn’t hope to understand the enormity of losing one’s spouse of nine years. Although he did feel sad about Tom, they’d barely known each other. Tom was—had been—another tourist Logan had hooked up with on Bora Bora; it could hardly compare to losing one’s wife.

There was no reaction.

Logan’s lips thinned. He’d never exactly been known for his patience, and unfortunately for Andrew, he was too exhausted and stressed to make an effort now.

He dropped the bottle at Andrew’s feet and strode away. The guy was a grown man. He wasn’t going to babysit him.

If he wanted to die of dehydration, it was his own choice.

***

Logan spent the next few days exploring the island.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to explore. They were stranded on a tiny piece of land barely one square mile big. The island probably didn’t even have a name. It probably wasn’t on any maps, just one of thousands of small isles in the Pacific Ocean.

The only piece of good news was that there was fresh water: a tiny creek. The water tasted a little metallic but was good enough to drink. At least he hadn’t been poisoned after drinking it.

There was no animal life, and no sign of humans ever being there.

In light of this, and considering that rescue still failed to appear, Logan spent a day making a fishing net from