Footsteps.

“I’m over here.” I hauled myself into a less slouchy position. My legs splayed in front of me, dirt covered every inch from trying to move all night.

My heart raced as eyes met mine, appearing from the greenery. I held my breath as a hesitant boy stepped from the undergrowth.

A kid.

Conner Evermore.

Thank God more than one of us survived.

“Hey.” I smiled, swiping at dirt sticking to my chin. “Remember me? I won’t hurt you.”

The kid shuffled closer, keeping his hands behind his back, protecting something.

Holding out my palm, I beckoned him forward. “It’s okay. Come here.”

One footstep. Two. Slowly, he traversed the sodden ground and stopped within a few metres. His gaze fell on my jeans, flinching when he understood what the swelling and odd position of my ankle meant.

He shifted from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. He dropped his eyes. “You okay?”

I ignored the question. I wouldn’t be such a selfish bastard to accept the concern of a kid. “Don’t worry about that.” Pointing at what he hid behind him, I said, “I’m more interested if you’re okay.”

Conner shrugged. “I’ll live.”

Spunky kid.

I hated that he’d lived through the crash and whatever would come next, but I liked that he was here. As much as I pushed people away, I didn’t want to be alone. Not now. Not like this.

A twig snapped behind Conner. He spun in place. “I told you to wait—”

I smiled as another survivor appeared. Thank God, they’d both lived. They were children and didn’t deserve to die so young.

Not moving, so I didn’t spook the little girl, I spoke to Conner. “You found your sister. That’s great.”

Conner nodded as the copper-haired girl darted toward him, coming to stand within touching distance. She had a wicked bruise on her cheekbone and blood covered her top. She trembled as tears glittered in her orb-like eyes.

My own pain was forgotten as something inside me softened. I’d never been around kids before. I didn’t know how to relate to them. But seeing anything in distress (either human or animal) turned me into some comic book superhero, fighting to the death to avenge and help.

That’s what happened with Mum and look how that turned out.

I snorted, cutting off my thoughts before they led me back into darkness. I was the only adult and these two kids needed guidance. They deserved a grown-up to tell them comforting lies that everything would be okay.

I would be that liar.

I would protect them...somehow.

“Not the best landing, huh?” I smiled. “You okay...Pippa, right?”

The little girl nodded. I guessed she was about seven or eight-years-old. She was taller than other kids but skinny, and the mud smearing both her and her brother mixed with blood that I didn’t know how to deal with.

“Where are we?” Conner stood protectively by his sister. He didn’t let go of his right wrist, cupping it protectively. He also had a large bruise, but unlike Pippa’s, his marred his neck in a purple splodge.

“Somewhere in the Fijian Islands.”

Conner pursed his lips, unhappy with my unhelpful answer.

I couldn’t blame him. If I were him, I’d be pissed, too.

I tried to do better. “Hopefully, we’re on an island with a hotel or local village. They’ll know what to do.”

Instead of my lie being believable, the kids looked at each other with uncertainty.

What the hell happened to these two?

Where was the helicopter?

Where are their parents?

I swallowed the question. Something like that could come with disastrous answers.

However, Conner gave me no choice but to learn. “You’re the only one we’ve found alive.”

Christ.

Pippa swallowed a sob, drifting closer to me as if I could stop the truth. “They didn’t move.”

Conner went with his sister. “It’s okay, Pip. It will be okay.”

“How? She wouldn’t wake up!” Pippa fell forward onto my lap. Her bony arms landed on my broken shin.

Holy bloody hell, that hurts.

It took every ounce of control not to toss her away. Instead, I gritted my teeth so hard they almost cracked and hugged the little girl. She needed comfort more than I did. No one ought to see their dead loved ones—especially so young.

The moment I touched her, my fingers came away with rusty crimson.

Shit, shit, shit.

Tugging at her shredded t-shirt, I peered at her back. Blood rivered over her shoulder, a large gash oozing and full of island filth.

My heart sank.

There was no way I could tend to her. No way I would be of any use to these kids...these...orphaned kids.

“You’re hurt.”

She nodded, her head burrowing into my lap.

Conner grabbed his little sister, tugging her from my arms. His demeanour was feral—treating me as the enemy while so much responsibility had just been dumped on his young shoulders. “She’ll be okay. She’s brave. Aren’t you, Pip?”

Pippa sniffed, licking at tears rolling close to her lips. She didn’t look away from me as she whispered, “Conner said I can have any to—toy I want of his as lo—long as I don’t cry and do what he tells me.”

Conner’s boyish jaw clenched. “Anything you want, you get, sis.”

Pippa smiled; it was pain-filled and tears still leaked, but it was an attempt to behave for her older brother.