Read The Tortured Rebel Online

Authors: Alison Roberts

The Tortured Rebel (8 page)

‘What’s his blood pressure now?’

‘Gone up a bit. One-oh-five on sixty. I think we could give him a bit of morphine. Could you draw it up for me, please?’

‘Sure.’

Her eagerness to help was almost palpable. So was how impressed she was by the man she was working with. Becca saw the way she was watching Jet’s face as he injected the drug, rather than the patient or even the procedure.

What woman wouldn’t be impressed?

Attracted?

What would Erica say if Becca told her that she’d had the best sex of her life with Jet during that last volcanic eruption? She might not believe her. Becca wasn’t sure she believed it herself right now. Maybe she’d fallen down that slope and been knocked out again and it had all been wishful thinking.

She really needed to let go of that nebulous hope that Jet might have felt the same way she did. That them being together was written in the stars or something stupid like that. Watching Erica had just reminded her that Jet had always had, and probably always would
have, women lining up wanting him. What on earth made her think she might stand out from the crowd? For old times’ sake? Hardly, given that the ‘old times’ were too painful for them to even talk about.

Her exhaustion hit her full force now. Along with a wave of nausea. She had to get out of here and find some food and water. And some rest. Her vision was blurry. Perhaps that was why she didn’t see Jet moving in her direction until he was crouched in front of her. Touching her hands.

‘What are you doing in here?’

‘Watching.’

‘Oh …’ Jet was frowning. He didn’t understand. Becca wasn’t sure she understood herself. Part of her had simply wanted to be near him. Another part was busy fanning the sparks of the old anger. It was all so confusing and she was too tired to think about it any more.

Jet’s nod seemed to agree with her. He was too tired to pursue the matter.

He rubbed a hand wearily over his face. ‘We’ve got things reasonably under control for the moment,’ he said. ‘Erica can keep watch. I’m going to go and check on Adam but it’s time we both got some food and rest before we fall over.’

He helped Becca to her feet and led her outside. He disappeared into the half-demolished building for some time and she sat and waited anxiously, unable to eat until she saw him emerge safely.

‘How is he?’

‘Still trapped, but they’ve figured out a way of getting him out without collapsing the timbers around him. I’ve given him some pain relief and have some fluids
running and I’ve told them to come and get me before they shift any of the weight. With a crush injury, he’ll need careful management when he gets free. It won’t be for a while yet, though.’ Jet hunkered down beside Becca and nodded at a woman who was bringing them food. ‘I’ve got time to take a break.’

They sat near the warmth of the fire and ate cold sausages wrapped in bread. They drank water. Someone even made them a hot cup of tea but then they were left alone. The people that weren’t occupied with looking after the injured or helping with Adam’s extrication had given in to exhaustion and were trying to get some sleep.

It felt like Becca and Jet were alone. Sitting in front of an open fire in the middle of nowhere and in the middle of the night. The driftwood flames flickered and hissed softly, sending out tendrils of comforting heat.

‘Mmm,’ Becca murmured. ‘I love fires.’

Jet made a soft sound, half chuckle, half sigh. Poignant enough to make Becca turn her head to look at him directly. And then, of course, it was impossible to look away. Shadows played on his face, making the lines sharper and his eyes far too dark to read, but he was looking back at her and his lips had a shape that Becca knew all too well. An almost-smile. It sucked her in every time and brought her way too close. Into dangerous territory.

‘What?’ Her voice came out in a whisper.

Jet shrugged. ‘I know how much you like fires, that’s all. I lit your first one, didn’t I?’

Oh … he was so right. In more ways than he would ever know. She’d told him to keep his memories to himself but this was different somehow. The memory of a
happy time didn’t seem so painful. Like the warmth and light of the fire they were sitting beside, it was oddly comforting.

Not that she was going to encourage it but she couldn’t help thinking about it so she turned her head and stared into the flames to disguise her thoughts.

She’d been, what … nine or ten? It hadn’t been the first time Jet had come home with Matt for a holiday. The boys had decided to camp out in the hills on a far boundary of the property and Becca had demanded to be allowed to accompany them.

The pup tent had been put up for her. Matt and Jet were going to sleep rough under the stars, like real outback men. They’d made a cairn of rocks and she’d helped to gather deadwood from the bush and there they’d been—just the three of them. Miles from anywhere, on a night so dark the stars had come alive, blazing like diamonds on black velvet. So cold that Becca had been shivering and so
big
that she’d been scared enough to think that maybe she’d bitten off more than she wanted to chew after all and she should have stayed home in her own bed. But then she’d experienced the thrill of those first flames leaping into the night.

‘Do you still wish you were a boy?’ Jet asked softly.

Oh … God. She had said that, hadn’t she? Shouted it, actually, as she’d danced around the fire with a long stick, ready to poke the embers back into life if it was needed.

‘I wish I was a boy.’

‘Why?’

‘Coz then I could light my own fires whenever I wanted to.’

The boys had rolled around laughing. It had seemed an eternity until they’d sobered enough to be serious.

‘You’ll be able to light as many fires as you want when you grow up.’

‘Why do I have to wait that long?’

‘Because you have to know how to control them. How to put them out if you need to. And you have to know the right places to light them or you can get into really big trouble.’

Becca could even remember the rider Jet had added when Matt had finished his brotherly advice.

‘Fire’s dangerous. Doing dangerous things can be exciting but it can also be wrong.’

She had her hand pressed to her mouth now, as the past somehow morphed into the present.

There’d been a kind of fire between them up on the mountain. More exciting than any she’d ever known.

Dangerous? Oh … yes. Why? Because it put her back into the place where she wanted to trust Jet. To offer him her heart. And that would make herself utterly vulnerable.

Wrong?

No. How could it have been wrong when it had felt so … right?

But maybe Jet felt otherwise. Becca slanted him a direct look.

‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m glad I’m not a boy.’

His face was very still and he waited a heartbeat before responding. ‘Me, too.’

They were still staring at each other. He was telling her he didn’t regret their lovemaking. Maybe even that he wanted more? The moment stretched and grew. A turning point. A suddenly terrifying one.

Becca’s heart was pounding. She felt dizzy. The whole world was spinning. She had to look away from Jet. To try and catch something solid.

Hang on!
The warning came from nowhere. A wordless fear. The same one she’d had in that moment on the beach when she’d thought Jet had been sucked into the sea along with the wreckage of the helicopter.

Don’t fall. You’ll crash and burn.

‘I get to light my own fires anyway.’ Her voice sounded odd. ‘If I want to.’

Jet grunted. ‘Of course you do. You’re all grown up now.’

Becca was holding her breath. What would he say now? That they had a new connection that was all about being grown up? Being a man and a woman? That it was too powerful to ignore?

But Jet stretched and looked away from her. His breath came out in a sigh. ‘Me, I just get to help put out the fires other people can’t control.’

The moment had passed. They were back on safer ground now. Away from the past. Away from talking about what had happened between them or any connection they might have with each other. So he didn’t want to talk about it. Or maybe the real truth was that he didn’t even feel it.

That was more likely, given the way he’d been able to dismiss it and carry on as though nothing important had happened. At least it made it easier to hang on. Becca wasn’t about to make herself look like a fool along with putting her heart at such risk. A fool who’d never got past a teenage crush.

She snorted softly at her own stupidity but managed to make it relevant to the conversation. ‘Don’t give me
that, Jet Munroe. You light your own fires by choosing to go there. You love living dangerously.’

‘Pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it? Flying choppers for a living isn’t exactly a quiet life.’

‘So we’re both adrenaline junkies. Nothing wrong with that, is there?’

‘Hell, no.’ Jet was smiling. ‘Nothing like nearly getting killed to make you feel really alive, is there?’

It was Becca’s turn to sigh. ‘I’m not sure how alive I feel right now.’

Being able to relax for the first time since this day had gone so terribly wrong was making Becca aware of every ache in her body. She held up her left arm, flexing her fingers and then making a fist.

Jet grasping her hand was unexpected. Becca tried to pull free but the movement hurt and she sucked in her breath.

‘It’s got worse, hasn’t it?’

‘No.’

‘Squeeze my fingers.’

Becca complied. This was a medical evaluation, wasn’t it? Except … she made the mistake of looking up as she returned Jet’s grip and suddenly the skin-to-skin contact was anything but professional.

Oh … Lord …

The depth in his eyes was disturbing. Had she really thought he was unaffected by the emotional side of what was happening here? That making love to her had simply been a way of passing the time? She was seeing something that she just knew no one else would be allowed to see. The turmoil of a man who didn’t know quite what to do. Someone who was teetering on an
emotional precipice and was feeling very, very unsafe. Like he was about to fall.

She hung on to his hand. Held his gaze.

It’s all right, she wanted to say. You’re safe. We’re safe, as long as we stay together. We wouldn’t fall. We’d … fly.

She took a deep breath.

‘Jet …’

‘Oh, my God!’ The shout came from somewhere on the other side of the fire.
‘Mandy … Steve …’

Figures were emerging from the darkness. Coming from a different direction from which she and Jet had reached the settlement.

Other people came running. Amongst the cries of joy and hugging going on, it became apparent that Mandy and Steve and two others had been the people who’d gone on a night tracking mission for the kiwi breeding programme. They’d been missing ever since the first earthquake and here they were, having achieved an almost impossible feat of climbing around the coastline to get back. They were bruised and scraped but otherwise uninjured.

Had Jet been aware that he’d still been holding Becca’s hand as they watched and listened to the joyous reunion? He certainly noticed as a man Becca hadn’t yet met approached them.

‘Jet? We’re ready to get Adam free now.’

He let go of her hand instantly. ‘Let me get my gear. You haven’t lifted the beam yet?’

‘No.’

‘I’ll be there in a minute.’

The man nodded. He looked totally exhausted but then he noticed what was happening around him.
‘Good grief …
Steve?’
He moved away to greet the newcomers.

Jet was moving away too and all Becca could do was watch him go. She was too tired to offer to help and he hadn’t asked. The opportunity to say anything had been snatched away from her and now she was wondering whether he would have wanted to hear it anyway.

He’d been eager to leave and get on with possibly the last medical challenge this rescue might present.

Relieved, maybe, to get away from her before she said anything that might have pushed him over the precipice?

She was on the same emotional ledge. Terrified of falling. Unsure of what to grasp that might allow her to pull herself back to safety.

Maybe they were both kidding themselves if they thought they could return to the safe place they’d been for the past ten years.

They’d started falling the moment they’d touched each other.

CHAPTER SEVEN

W
HAT
had Becca been about to say to him?

That she forgave him?

That she had missed him?

That look in her eyes. He could almost imagine that she’d been about to say,
I love you.

And, for that split second, they were the words he had been waiting his whole life to hear.

Reality had snapped in, though, hadn’t it, when those new people had arrived? The moment had gone so fast he wasn’t sure he’d even read it correctly.

Even if he had, what was he thinking? Hearing those words would be about as terrifying as the seconds before crash-landing that helicopter, and at least then he’d had some idea of what he needed to do to attempt to regain control.

He wouldn’t have known what to say to any of those possibilities, especially the last one. It would be like those awkward minutes after the sex. Knowing that something important had just happened. That something needed to be said. And feeling completely … lost.

Just as well he had the default mode that allowed him to simply move into the next moment and do what had to be done rather than what should be done.

He went to supervise Adam’s release. He gave the young conservation worker additional pain relief and made sure fluids were running freely into his veins to help dilute any toxins that might be released when the weight was lifted from his lower leg. He attached the life pack leads and monitored what was happening to his heart, breathing and blood pressure.

And then he saw what he had to deal with and any thoughts of Becca and the past were easily put aside. The arterial bleed from a partially amputated foot had been controlled by the weight of the beam and it proved impossible to control once they got Adam out. Jet fought for a long time with direct pressure and then a tourniquet and even an attempt to find the artery and tie it off.

Adam lost a lot of blood. He lost consciousness. In the end, Jet had to put in a nerve block and complete the amputation. The young man would have lost his foot anyway. He was not going to let him lose his life, dammit. By the time he was confident he’d won the battle and Adam was in the tent with the others, sleeping peacefully rather than exhibiting a dangerous drop in his level of consciousness, the new day had well and truly broken.

It was now more than forty-eight hours since Jet had slept and he had to catch an hour or two or he’d be no use to anyone. Erica was exhausted, too, but sure she could stay on top of monitoring the condition of the injured people until Jet had had some rest. For the moment all the patients seemed stable, though the oldest amongst them, Jim, was a worry. He had an internal injury that probably involved his spleen.

Jet raked his fingers through his hair, which felt thick with grime. Backup was desperately needed but
it couldn’t be too far away now, surely. It was a new day. Someone could spot the big navy vessel on the horizon any time. There would be medical personnel and supplies on board. A mini-theatre, even, in case they needed to do an emergency splenectomy on their oldest patient.

Someone found him a blanket and a pillow and advised going close enough to the fire to stay warm. Jet was drawn back there anyway, because that was the last place he had seen Becca.

She’d offered to come and help with Adam but she’d stumbled in her exhaustion just trying to stand up as he’d gone past with all the gear he’d needed. He’d ordered her, in no uncertain terms, to stay put and rest. He’d told her that Erica had already been briefed to assist him.

He hadn’t stopped moving on his way to the half-demolished building but he’d seen the flash of something like defeat on her face.

Loss, almost.

He remembered that look now, as he saw her again. Still in the same place. She had also been provided with a blanket and pillow and she was curled up, sound asleep, with her head cradled on her arm.

Her face was unguarded. A dark tangle of lashes on a pale cheek. A mouth that almost smiled in repose. She looked astonishingly young. Defenceless.

Jet lay down beside her. He closed his eyes but moments later he opened them again. He propped himself up on one elbow and gazed at Becca again. The pull had been simply too powerful to resist.

He was quite close enough to reach out and touch her face. To run a gentle stroke from her forehead to her chin.

Becca’s eyes fluttered open, full of confusion, and then they focussed and her lips parted. She turned her head on a sigh. Just enough that her chin and cheek pressed into the palm that was cupping her face.

A gesture of gratitude?

It felt more like an acknowledgment of a connection too deep to put into words.

Without thinking, Jet leaned closer. He kissed her, very softly, on her lips.

‘Go back to sleep,’ he whispered. ‘It’s going to be OK, I promise.’

It took several seconds to come awake properly. The first thing Becca was aware of was how incredibly hard the ground beneath her was. And then she noticed how much her body was aching and how thirsty she was.

As she opened her eyes to bright sunlight, she was reaching out with her arm at the same time. Jet had been there, hadn’t he?

Right beside her.

He had kissed her with such tenderness that Becca had allowed sleep to claim her again, feeling completely safe.

Or had it been a dream?

Jet wasn’t there beside her now.

Becca sat up with some difficulty. She’d never felt so stiff and sore in her life. Her eyes felt gritty and the sunlight hurt.

Sunlight?

Squinting, Becca looked around. The sea was very close and blue. Tiny whitecaps were visible on the swells and seagulls circled overhead. There was no beach here. The waves broke directly onto black rocks but she could
see that a jetty had been built and a dinghy with an outboard motor was tied down on the end of the structure. Presumably, ships anchored some way off the island and small boats were used to transfer supplies or people.

Stretching her back and wriggling her feet to try and warm up her muscles, Becca turned her head from one side to the other. Lush, green forest blanketed the craggy slopes inland and there, at the highest point, she could see a plume of smoke from the volcano.

Quiescent now, but she would never forget the sound of its wrath. Or the fiery glow in the sky and fountains of sparks. The deadly missiles that had sent her in panic to share that meagre shelter with Jet.

And she would certainly never, ever forget what had happened in that shelter. Even now, Becca could feel a sensation of pure pleasure melting the pain of overused muscles and joints. An exquisite liquid that was generated deep in her belly and trickled deliciously into her limbs, making her heart rate pick up and her lungs stretch to take in more of the surprisingly fresh air.

‘Hey … you’re awake. Want a cup of coffee?’

‘Sure.’ Becca blinked at the young woman near the fire.

‘I’m Mandy. I wasn’t here when you arrived. We were out tracking kiwi and got cut off by some lava. Took for ever to try and scramble back round the coast. You guys came overland, I hear?’

‘Mmm.’ Becca was getting cautiously to her feet. ‘What time is it, do you know?’

‘My watch got wet. I think it’s late morning. ‘Bout eleven?’

‘Good grief, I’ve been asleep for hours.’

‘You needed it. You’re probably feeling a lot worse
than I am and I feel bad enough.’ Mandy smiled. ‘Here you go. Sugar?’

‘Please.’ Becca stirred two heaped spoons into the mug. She needed a good energy boost.

‘Want something to eat? I can do a honey or peanut-butter sandwich.’

She should eat but Becca shook her head. The hot drink was enough for now and there was an urgency about drinking it.

‘Maybe later,’ she said. ‘I need to …’

Find Jet. To catch his gaze and then she’d know if it had been a dream when he’d kissed her like that. As though … as though he
loved
her?

‘To see what’s happening,’ she trailed off, handing the mug back. ‘Thank you so much. That was the best coffee ever.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ Mandy said. ‘Hang on a tick and I’ll just make a coffee for Jet. He’ll need another one by now. Black, no sugar, right?’

She clearly knew more than Becca did about Jet’s coffee habits and was only too keen to be doing something to help him. How did he get women on side so fast when he went around scowling so hard and looking unapproachable?

As if she didn’t know. She’d been more than prepared to push herself past any known physical limits to keep up with him. And she’d been the one to grab that heavy life pack he needed before anyone else got a chance to. You’d think that never smiling and being so focussed on your job you could come across as surly would make others wary but, with Jet, it just seemed to make them make more of an effort to get noticed.

How had he got on with Erica during Adam’s rescue
in the night? Becca found out soon enough as she went into the tent that now looked like a mini-hospital. Jet was there, on the far side, crouched beside a young, bearded man who had a heavily bandaged leg raised on pillows.

Erica came into the tent behind her, carrying bottled water. She paused and smiled at Becca.

‘I hope you got some real sleep.’

Becca nodded, feeling a bit ashamed of herself, but Erica’s nod was pleased. ‘You needed it. You missed the excitement, though.’ The nurse’s gaze shifted. ‘Your man’s a bit of a hero all right.’

Her
man.

In her dreams.

He had been, though, hadn’t he? Just for a blink of time, up there on the side of a mountain.

There was no way she could prevent her own gaze shifting to Jet. Soaking in the picture he made. He was taking Adam’s blood pressure with a hand holding the disc of a stethoscope in place on Adam’s elbow and using his other hand to release the valve of the bulb. His face was intent as he watched the dial clipped to the cuff around his patient’s upper arm.

And, yes … he was scowling.

Absurdly, it brought the sting of tears to Becca’s eyes and curled the corners of her mouth into a smile at the same time.

She loved everything about him. Even the surliness.

She could make him smile. How many others could claim that distinction?

‘We had an operating theatre going,’ Erica was telling
her. ‘Adam’s foot was such a mess, he was bleeding to death.’

‘Really?’ Becca was still watching the doctor with his patient. She saw Jet’s satisfied nod and he was saying something to Adam, who gave him a smile in return and a thumbs-up sign. The blood pressure was obviously at an acceptable level. How had Jet managed to get a patient in danger of bleeding to death into such a stable condition given the relatively primitive surroundings and limited medical supplies?

‘He had to amputate the foot,’ Erica said quietly.

‘Oh, no … That’s awful.’

But Erica shook her head. ‘He would have died otherwise and
that
would have been awful. Adam’s the nicest guy you could ever meet and we’re all over the moon that he’s still with us. I think he’s pretty happy about it, too, and he knows he owes his life to Jet.’

Jet’s status around here had clearly reached new heights.

‘How are the others?’

Erica’s smile was back. ‘Jack’s got a headache that he says is worse than any hangover he’s ever had, and that’s saying something for Jack. Jet reckons he’s got a severe concussion but there’s nothing too dangerous going on. He’ll need scans and stuff when he gets to hospital.’

Jet was beside Jack now, shining a small torch in his eyes and then holding a hand up in front of him.

‘How many fingers?’ Becca heard him ask.

‘One. Trick question, right?’

‘Keep your eyes on it for as long as you can.’ Jet moved his finger up and down and then from side to side, watching closely to see how Jack was tracking it visually.

Erica still hadn’t moved to take water to those who needed it. The two women stood side by side, watching Jet.

Everybody was, Becca realised, scanning the interior of this makeshift medical centre. There were several onlookers. Like Mandy and some others Becca had yet to meet. And why wouldn’t they all be watching? Jet was their hero. He was using his astonishing stamina and praiseworthy skills to care for them all. To save the lives of the people they cared about.

He was brilliant and she felt proud of him. She loved him, as much as it was possible to love anyone. So why did she have this gnawing sense of unease? A kind of tension pressing in on her and making her feel restless?

The answer came when her gaze returned to Jet to find he’d finished assessing Jack and was looking directly at her. How long had he been watching her soak in the results of all his hard work? The hero-worship he had earned from all these people?

He looked … uncomfortable. Embarrassed.

And then it hit her. That moment of eye contact had ignited a connection that went further back than what had happened on this island. It came with a wave of pain. He had saved the life of at least one complete stranger here.

Why hadn’t he been able to do that for his best friend?

There was nothing for Becca to do in here. Plenty of people were available for the routine nursing and companionship these patients needed, and Jet and Erica were there for anything clinical. Becca went back outside and somebody made her another cup of coffee and then
presented her with a doorstop sandwich thickly spread with both honey and peanut butter.

It was hard to swallow, however.

A heavy knot seemed to have lodged in her stomach. A weight that told her she still hadn’t forgiven Jet.

Sure, she could understand that he’d been just as devastated by Matt’s death as she had been. She could feel bad that she’d made him feel worse with her accusations. Knowing that might have changed how she felt about Jet was enough to erase the hatred but, however much she wished it wasn’t, the core of that ill feeling was still there.

The idea that he could and
should
have done more. That by doing even the tiniest bit more, he could have prevented the tragedy.

Did she still believe that?

Yes. Somewhere, deep inside, that belief was still alive. A spotlight had revealed it lurking in a recess and that light had come from the evidence all around her here. In Jet’s abilities to beat the odds. To negotiate inhospitable landscape. To save someone’s life when they were bleeding to death.

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