Savage Love – A Dark Romance Read online Jane Henry (Savage Island #2)

Categories Genre: Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Savage Island Series by Jane Henry
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Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
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“Let’s take this one step at a time,” I say through gritted teeth. “Who are you?”

“U.S. Military, sir.”

But something isn’t right. Many things are off about this, and I can’t quite figure out what, but I don’t trust that this guy is actually military. I look over his uniform, and it looks about right, but it’s like he’s play acting. The fatigues are brand new, showing no signs of wear, and they’re too big on him. No officer would let him parade around like this. And the pilot called me Cy. He wouldn’t address me by my first name if he is who he says he is.

“And how did you come to find me?” I ask him. The fact that they came right after we found the last camera isn’t lost on me. There’s something goddamn suspicious about this.

The young guy in front of me speaks calmly, as if not to upset me. “We found footage of the island, sir, and we launched an investigation. We found out that Harper Lake was in on this. She’s an investigative reporter and agreed to come to the island as a sort of survivor experiment. She manipulated you, sir. And that’s why we didn’t rescue her.”

I shake my head as if to try to clear my muddied thoughts. There is no way she was in on this. They’re wrong. There’s no fucking way.

“You’re mistaken,” I say, with every bit of calmness I can muster, because I still want to kill this bastard. “She was as much a victim as I was.”

He shakes his head. “No, sir. She was in on it. We can explain when we get you back home.”

Home.

God.

The word hits me like a punch to the gut.

But no. There is no home now. No home without Harper.

And I don’t believe them. They say Harper was in on it, and she used me. My heart knows better than to accept that truth as gospel. Still, I decide to play along so I can hear as much as they’ll tell me.

“So let’s say she was in on it,” I say feeling my stomach tighten at the merest suggestion. “And she’s now back in the comfort of home. Who was behind it all?”

“We aren’t sure yet, sir.” The answer comes too quickly. Too pat. They practiced this.

“What do you know about the cameras?”

“We know you were recorded by Harper and the people behind her,” he says. “It was something like a social experiment.”

No. No. I refuse to believe this. It isn’t true. It can’t be.

I feel as if my heart is going to thunder right out of my chest. Harper is heading away from me, back to where she lives. The mere thought of her being in on this at all kills me. Fucking kills me.

I weigh the options in my head. If what he’s saying is true, and I know it isn’t, Harper was in on the whole thing. She was dropped on the island as… a social experiment? And as soon as she got her chance, she left.

Experiment over.

No.

That isn’t true. It can’t be.

What other options are there?

According to them, my military brothers rescued me, because they believed I was taken against my will, which is truth. They left her, believing she was in on it. I look back at the man in front of me, armed. I will get as much out of him as I can before I can piece anything together.

“Who’s your superior?” I ask him.

He doesn’t respond at first. “I’m not at liberty to say, sir.”

Right. He’s not at liberty to say, because he doesn’t fucking know the answer.

I nod slowly. “Name of the pilot?”

“Can’t say, sir. I can tell you this. Three months ago, one of our men discovered footage of you and Harper on the island, sir,” the man in the front says. “We’ve been trying to discover your location ever since. An investigation was launched, and that’s how we found you.”

It could be true, but I still don’t believe it. I can’t. I shake my head but try to listen.

Harper wasn’t behind any of this, I know this as certain as I know the Earth is round. If they think she was, they are going on evidence that’s incorrect or impartial, or trying to intentionally drive a wedge between us.

Or maybe fucking break me.

I don’t speak. I want to observe them first.

“It took us that long to find you, sir.” He swallows hard, and if he’s acting, he’s getting a little more convincing. “We believed you were dead.”

I stare at him, probing. Trying to decipher the truth. “And when you did discover my location,” I prompt. “What then?”

“We did everything we could to get to you without putting you in more danger.” I don’t respond. Much of what he says doesn’t add up, and I’m still groggy.


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