Lost Paradise (The Savages of the Blue Lagoon)

33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

We finally stumble back into our camp after hours of lugging all the bags and things we picked up, including a few watermelons. My legs are trembling from exhaustion, and my mind’s still reeling from our discovery yesterday. The dense jungle had been unforgiving, and every step felt like dragging myself through quicksand. I’d never think I’d ever say how much I missed our makeshift camp.

Sleeping under the stars with Zane and Byron last night was nothing but amazing. I’m falling more and more in love with these two men every day, and I don’t know how such is possible.

Loving more than one person seems uncanny for humans. To feel addicted to the point where they mean absolutely everything to you feels even more crazy.

But to know that you’re grateful for being stuck on this island where you have no other competition and be their only female is completely insane.

Zane and Byron flank me as we make our appearance into camp, their expressions a mix of weariness and determination as we haul the heavy bags of supplies.

The moment we cross the threshold, the tension in the air is unexpected. Foster, Jack, and Astro are here, their faces a blend of worry and anger. At first, they just stare at us, maybe shocked or angry. I’m not sure. They stare at the three of us, then at our baggage.

Foster rushes towards me, his arms encircling me in a tight, relieved embrace.

"Thank God you're back," he murmurs into my hair.

"Your place is right next to me, woman. I don't know what I would have done if—" He doesn’t finish. Instead, he leans his head back and stares at me as if making sure it’s my face and not some mirage.

I barely have a moment to breathe before Jack steps forward, his usually stoic face contorted with uncharacteristic emotion. "My world would have remained black forever if something happened to you," he says, his voice thick with emotion.

As soon as Foster lets go, Jack attacks me by wrapping his heavy arms around me, his leather jacket pressing against my cheek. Its familiar scent of worn leather and that famous delicious yet mysterious Jack scent bring a strange comfort amidst the chaos between the two men.

I had no idea they felt this way. But Jack goes even one step further and crashes his lips against mine in such a brutal way I’m sure he nipped my lip on purpose.

“Did you just…” I ask, flabbergasted, unable to finish my sentence, licking my lower lip and tasting the metallic tang on my tongue.

“Now you’re in me forever,” he says, stepping back, and there’s a devilish grin on his face.

Jack is darker than any man I have ever met, and I have no idea why my inner core has been stirred with desire by his statement.

His attention is drawn to the items we brought with us, and he moves aside.

I find Astro standing and facing me.

"You're the most selfish person there is."

"Well, asshole," I say exasperated, "maybe next time I'll remember to charge my cell phone and let you know we were delayed. Oh wait, our phones were lost at sea, and we're stranded on an island."

"Funny, Eve. Cracking sarcasm is all you're good for. You insisted on going with them, like some spoilt brat, when you knew you’d slow them down!"

It’s apparent Astro doesn’t share the same relief as the other two. His eyes flash with anger as he rounds on me, his voice a harsh accusation.

Zane immediately steps between us, his protective instincts flaring. "Back off, Astro. Eve was a trooper out there. If you can't see that, then fuck off and leave her alone."

Byron nods in agreement, his gaze hard. "She pulled her weight just like the rest of us. Don't you dare pin this on her. As you can see, we stumbled upon something and lost track of time. It got late, and we made the decision to return when there was light."

I’ve just about had it with Astro, and I square my shoulders and face him head-on. "Why do you even care what happens to me?"

"I don't," Astro snaps back, his voice dripping with disdain. “With you, it’s always me me me . When will you stop and realize the world doesn’t revolve around you?”

“You’re not making any sense, Astro. Maybe just shut your face for once and fuck off.”

He glares at me. "You're just a spoiled little princess, always looking for attention because you couldn't get love at home."

The words cut deep, and I feel a familiar sting of tears, but I refuse to let them fall. I told the group this in confidence, and this asshole will forever use it against me.

Before anyone else or I have a chance to retaliate, Foster steps in.

"That's enough, Astro. Go have a time out by the beach. Now." His voice is firm and commanding.

Astro glares at all of us before storming off, his footsteps heavy and angry against the jungle floor. I watch him go, a mix of confusion and hurt swirling inside me.

A hand slides around my waist, breaking me from my thoughts, and I turn to see the deep green eyes gazing at me with a warmth that melts away the exhaustion and fear. Foster stands close, his presence a solid anchor in the chaos of our lives. Though he's the leader of our ragtag group and always strong, athletic, and commanding, there's a certain softness he reserves just for me.

His gaze, tender and reassuring, crinkles slightly at the corners of his eyes as he offers me a small, encouraging smile. It's a side of him no one else sees, a sensitive vulnerability that he lets slip only in these private moments between us.

"Don't worry about Astro's harsh words," Foster says softly, his voice a soothing balm against the rawness left by the confrontation. "There isn't a soul here who believes any of that stuff he said about you is true. He's just reflecting his anger about himself onto you."

His words are firm but gentle, like the way his strong hand holds me close. In this moment, surrounded by the jungle's sounds and the lingering tension, I find a quiet solace in his unwavering support.

"Mark my words," Foster continues, his voice taking on a steely edge, "if he lays a hand on you again, I will end him myself." His grip on my waist tightens slightly, emphasizing the seriousness of his promise.

But then, a flicker of hesitation crosses his face, and he softens again, his thumb gently tracing circles on my hip. "But honestly, I don't believe Astro has a bone in his body to harm you physically. He's all talk, venting his frustrations. Still, I'll keep an eye on him."

In his deep gaze, I see not just a leader but a guardian who would go to any lengths to keep me safe. It’s a little scary and incredible that someone would do that, and I look at the other three men busy unpacking the stuff we brought with us and realize they would act in my honor as well.

Four men who would go to the end of the earth for me. I’ve never had that with anyone.

The jungle around us fades into the background as I lean into Foster’s embrace, finding strength in the connection we share. I share a deep kiss with him that steals every worry away from me.

Foster pulls away and smiles, his eyes reflecting a mix of relief and affection. He brushes a stray lock of hair from my face, his touch tender. "We'll get through this," he whispers, his voice filled with quiet determination.

Addressing the others, Foster's demeanor shifts back to the authoritative leader. "Alright, everyone," he says, his tone commanding but calm. "Update me on what happened and where you got all this stuff."

Zane and Byron step forward, “Mate, you’ll need to sit down to hear this.”

I turn to Foster. "Maybe I should go talk to Astro—"

Zane shakes his head, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Let him blow off some steam. He'll probably reappear at dinner when he smells the grill and knows it’s time to fill his belly."

I sigh, nodding reluctantly, and take a seat between Zane and Byron, opposite Foster and Jack, as we each recount our adventure.

We sit beside the ongoing fire that we never allow to die out, located in the center area of the camp. It’s midday by the time we finish recounting our adventures to Jack and Foster, and they absorb every detail and the conclusions about what we think the facility was used for. Byron explained that he wanted to examine some of the documents he took in the hope that they would give them some answers, but I’m not sure why we need to know what kind of research they were conducting here on the island. It’s hardly likely after thirty-plus years, the Russians are returning to collect or revert the mess they made on the natives.

The bags of supplies lay open nearby, and we explain what we collected that could be of use to us here.

Foster leans back, his brow furrowed in thought.

"We should return to the facility tomorrow and have a look at the generator," he says after a moment of silence.

Byron nods, his face still showing traces of exhaustion but also a hint of determination. "We found enough oil to possibly make adequate fuel that could feed a motor for an hour or so. It might be enough to get it running, at least temporarily."

Foster's eyes narrow as he considers the options. He glances at the bright blue sky, now painted with several white clouds. "We should start out at the crack of dawn," he decides, his voice firm, and stands up. We all follow him to get up. Jack joins Zane and Byron in unpacking the bags.

The thought of another grueling trek through the jungle makes my heart sink. "I don’t want to make the trip again," I say quietly, unable to hide the weariness in my voice.

Foster’s gaze softens as he looks at me. "I understand," he says gently. "I'll take Astro with me. It'll keep him out of your hair."

“I can handle Astro,” I say defensively.

“I know you can, darling. I just don’t need you killing him just yet. I could do with the extra muscle to carry the generator back.” He winks at me and focuses his attention on the others.

He then turns to Byron and Jack. "I'll need both of you with me tomorrow."

Zane shifts slightly, drawing Foster's attention. "Zane, stay back and help Eve with things here."

An unspoken understanding passes between Zane and Foster. Zane nods subtly, acknowledging his silent mission to protect me. I roll my eyes but remain silent.

Foster claps a hand on Zane's shoulder, a gesture of both trust and solidarity. "Make sure everything runs smoothly here. Above all keep her safe."

Zane nods again, his eyes meeting Foster's with a determined glint. "You can count on me."

I catch Zane's eye and manage a small, grateful smile.

As the guys continue to unpack, Zane pulls out some of the soap and plastic razors we picked up and hands one to Foster and Jack. Both men break into wide grins, their eyes lighting up with genuine happiness.

"Well, would you look at that," Foster says, scratching his dark, heavy beard stubble. "I'm happy to finally get a clean face."

Jack nods, a similar excitement crossing his face as he rubs his own rough jawline. "Feels like forever since I had a proper shave."

I can't help but chuckle at their enthusiasm. "You know," I say with a playful smirk, "I find all four of you pretty sexy with facial hair."

Foster and Jack exchange amused glances. "Is that so?" Foster asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Absolutely," I continue, leaning against a nearby tree. "But it does tickle a little when you get your faces between my thighs and into my pussy."

Byron and Zane, who are nearby and within earshot, pause their unpacking to snicker. Zane shoots me a mischievous look. "Guess we’ll have to find a balance between rugged and smooth, then."

Foster's grin widens as he looks at me, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, we'll see if we can make things a bit more comfortable for you, then."

Jack laughs, clapping Foster on the back. "I suppose a clean shave wouldn't hurt every now and then."

“Hmmm,” Foster tosses the soap and razor next to his stuff and comes over to me. “A stubble requires considerable care to keep it at a certain length. But if you want I can maintain one when we are rescued, and I have a decent razor.”

His words make me smile, but a flood of doubts rushes through my mind.

Rescue?

It feels like a distant dream, a fragile hope that we cling to in the face of our harsh reality. I think about what will happen when we get back to civilization—if we get back.

What will become of us, of this strange and intense bond we've formed out here? My relationship with the four men is tangled and complex, built on necessity and genuine affection, but what happens when we return to the real world?

I don't want to think about it. The future is uncertain, and dwelling on it only brings more questions and fears. Instead, I change the subject to something more immediate, something I can handle.

“How did returning the little girl go?” I ask, casting my other thoughts aside.

“We were in and out unnoticed. She’s back with her family, safe and sound,” Foster confirms

"Safe?" I roll my eyes, a surge of frustration bubbling up. "How is she safe? We returned her to a future where she’ll either be used as some ceremonial sacrifice or forced to have sex with a relative so they can breed more cannibals."

Foster narrows his eyes, his jaw tightening. "She is where she belongs."

"She has no future there," I argue, my voice rising with the intensity of my feelings.

"You really think that?" Foster’s eyes soften, a mix of sadness and understanding in his gaze. "You think our world is better?"

"You can’t be serious," I say, incredulous. "Over there isn’t better."

"It’s what she knows. She’s back where she belongs."

I stare at him, disbelief etched on my face. "How could you say that? That little girl will be stuck on this island and never know what’s beyond it."

Foster sighs, running a hand through his hair before placing it gently on my shoulder. "You think we’re better than them? These natives have lived on this island undisturbed for hundreds, if not thousands, of years and managed to live together. They breed with each other as a survival mechanism. But it took people from our realm of the world to come here, kill all their animals, and split their island into two. Us. The Western civilization split a peaceful island up to suit an agenda, then fucked off and never restored order, never cleaned up their shit."

I look at him in thought, my anger tempered by his words, but I still can't shake the feeling that we could have done more for the girl.

As if knowing what I’m thinking, Foster licks his lips and continues softly, "Darling, see it this way. We are no better than these cannibals." I raise a brow at him.

"No. That’s not true. "

"Is it? Because they’re cannibals? We may not eat people, but we sure bloody well kill each other. We've had how many world wars? How many innocent people die every day at our hands? These ingenious people have remained at peace with each other for thousands of years, and even when our kind invaded and terrorized them, they still stuck together. In fact, they are better than us."

"But I’m nothing like the killers, nor are you," I counter, my voice trembling.

"I know you and I aren’t like that, but this is the harsh reality of the world. That little girl is better off with her family."

His hand moves from my shoulder to gently cup my cheek, his thumb brushing against my skin. His touch is tender, grounding me in the present moment. "We did what we could," he murmurs, his eyes searching mine for understanding. "We have to believe it was the right thing."

I nod slowly, still grappling with the complexities of our actions and their consequences. The weight of our choices lingers, but Foster's touch provides a fleeting comfort.

"We’ll be needing dinner," Zane interrupts, holding several fishing spears.

Foster reluctantly lets go of me, his fingers trailing down my arm before reaching out to take a few spears. "I’ll join you on the hunt."

I watch as he and Zane head off toward the beach, their figures quickly becoming smaller in the distance. Turning, I see Byron sitting cross-legged under the shade of the intense sun, already immersed in the files and documents he found. His intense focus is a sharp contrast to the turmoil swirling in my mind.

I push a bead of sweat on my forehead into my hairline.

Just as I go to push off the tree trunk, a giant figure steps in front of me, seemingly from nowhere. I look up into the piercing blue eyes of my gorgeous goth-boy.

"You and I need to finally have a chat about disappearing overnight like you did," he says, his voice low and intense.

"I thought we explained ourselves?" I reply, trying to maintain my composure.

"Not the answer I want, Wildcat," he smirks. Without another word, he scoops me up over his shoulder, his grip firm but gentle.

"Jack, what are you doing?" I protest, my voice muffled against his back as he starts running into the jungle .

His silence is heavy, and I can feel the tension in his body. "We’re having our chat, whether you like it or not," he finally mutters.

As he carries me deeper into the jungle, the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy dances on his leather jacket, momentarily pulling me away from my worries. Despite the urgency of our situation, Jack's playful determination brings a welcome distraction amidst the chaos of my mind.