Locked by Parker Witter Page B

words,” I say. My chest feels light, like it’s rising. Like it might just float up without me.
    â€œWell, I do,” he says. “In case it isn’t obvious, I love you.”
    â€œI love you, too,” I whisper.
    I’ve said “I love you” before to Ed. But when Noah kisses me, I know I’ve never felt anything close to this. I’ve never meant it before, not like this.
    Noah takes my face in his hands. His eyes look into mine, and there is an intensity I haven’t seen there before. If I didn’t know better, I’d call it something close to desperation. “I want you to know that, okay?” he says. “Whatever happens, I have always loved you and I will always love you.”
    I smile. “Okay,” I whisper. “I know.” I kiss his temples. The bridge of his nose. “But nothing is going to happen.”
    For a moment something passes over his face, but it’s gone before I can recognize what it is. And then we’re kissing again and I’m so lost in him—his warmth, the way it feels to be close to him—that I don’t think to question it. I don’t think to hit pause on that moment and study it. Turn it over.
    All I think about is now.
    We eat more and then get back into bed. I don’t think I will ever get sick of touching him. The endless exploration of sensation—there there there. The way he seems to anticipate what I need before I know it myself. It’s like he’s living inside me. Like we’re sharing one ecstatic, electrified body. It feels like every part—arms, legs, knees, lips—was made for us and us alone. No one has ever used them like this. No one has ever felt what we do. No two people have ever fit together so perfectly. He whispers my name over and over, and I think I’ve never heard anything more beautiful. My name on his lips in sweet, delicious surrender.
    I fall asleep in Noah’s arms. And all through the night, I feel them around me—strong, protective. It feels like nothing could pull me out of them. Not the morning. Not hunger. Not thirst. Not even a natural disaster.
    And I’m right. Ultimately, it’s none of those things. It’s a helicopter.

Chapter Fourteen
    I hear it before I open my eyes. The spiral of air—like a hurricane. The grating screech of an engine. Foreign sounds. Machine sounds. Sounds of metal and steel and technology. Sounds that don’t belong.
    At first I think it’s part of a dream, but then my eyes are open, and Noah is getting out of bed, and—
    â€œThey’re here,” I say. “Noah, it’s them.” My instinct is for joy, and relief. The rescue team is here. It’s over. They’re coming to bring us home. “Noah, do you hear me?”
    But he doesn’t turn around, and I realize, suddenly, what has happened. I go cold.
    â€œYou did this,” I say. I scramble forward. “Why?”
    â€œI told you I would get you off this island,” he says.
    I think about the chief yesterday. About what he said. “It is not my role.” He didn’t find out Ed and Maggie were alive. Noah did. Noah is the only one who could. Noah. The Healer.
    â€œYou’ll come,” I say. I get out of bed; I put on a dress. My thoughts are spinning too fast. I can’t separate them out. Rescue. Mainland. Ed. Maggie.
    Noah’s walking out of the room, and I run over to him. I throw my weight against him. “Noah,” I say. “You’ll come. You have to.”
    I tug him around so he’s facing me, and when I do my heart sinks—because I know why they’re here. I know what he’s done.
    â€œNo,” I say. I shake my head. I start to cry.
    â€œAugust,” he says. He puts his hands on my shoulders. He shakes me. “You need to listen to me. You can’t stay here.”
    â€œNo,” I say. “That’s not fair. You can’t decide that for