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“Sorry, thinking. What is it?”
“There’s someone coming.”
He whirled to face the direction she was pointing. The ground slid downward from the airstrip, through a line of palms to a long, narrow beach that led to the channel between the two islands. A boy about their own age was strolling up the beach, his hands in his pockets, whistling to a flock of seagulls that screamed overhead.
Then the boy turned toward them, seemingly unsurprised to find them there. He began hiking up the slope in their direction, kicking aside the coconuts in his path. He had long dark hair that hung loose to his jaw and a sharp angularity to his features.
“Who are you?” Jim asked.
The boy pulled his hands from his pockets and let them hang loose at his sides, considering Jim with an odd look of amusement. “I’m Nicholas,” he said, as if the fact were obvious.
“Did my mom send you?” asked Sophie, walking toward him. “Where is she? Is she okay?”
“Calm down, Sophie,” Nicholas said, smiling. “Everything’s fine.”
She stopped short. “How do you know my name?”
Nicholas gave her a long, appraising look. Jim bristled at the way the boy’s gaze lingered on her body, a hungry look in his eye. Jim stepped forward. “Hey, man,” he said. “My plane . . . uh . . . had some trouble landing. . . .” The blood rushed to his face. “It wasn’t my fault or anything—something must have come loose. Point is, I need a phone.”
“Not one here you can use.” He studied the plane, shook his head. “Huh. They are not gonna be happy about this.”
“Who?” Jim asked. “Why can’t I just use the phone?”
But Nicholas was ignoring him. He’d gone back to ogling Sophie. “You came. You actually came.”
“Of course I came! Where is she?”
Nicholas sighed. “Calm down, okay? I’ll take you to her. You, pilot. You can’t use the phone because there’s only one on the island and it’s locked up. Besides, they monitor the line and the minute they find you’re here they’ll shoot you and dump you and your plane in the ocean.”
“What?” Sophie’s head flipped from one to the other. “Now, just wait a minute. Of course we can help him. My mom works on this island and she’d never shoot anyone.”
“Really?” He gave her a steady look. “And how well do you know your mother, Sophie Crue?”
She looked faintly blindsided by this. “Wh-what?”
“I’ve been rude. Forgive me. Welcome to Skin Island.”
He held out a hand and she took it. He ran his thumb over her knuckles and pulled her closer to him, Sophie looking uneasy but not pulling away. Jim’s fingers curled into fists, and he thrust them into his pockets and kicked a loose scrap of metal that his plane had dropped.
“You’ll take me to my mom?” she asked.
Nicholas nodded. “Don’t worry. Everything’s going just as it should.”
“What does that mean?”
Jim looked from Sophie to Nicholas; they were inches apart, eyes locked on each other, ignoring him completely. He threw up his hands. “Okay, I’m done. Whatever trouble you’re getting into, that’s your problem and not mine.” He turned and stalked back to the plane.
Sophie ran after him. “Jim! Come with us. I’m sure my mom can work things out.”
“I’d rather not take my chances, thanks. From the sound of things, your mom’s not in a position to help herself, much less me.” He turned to see the look of distress on her face, and he sighed and shook his head. “Don’t worry about me. I can manage this. Just go on.” He glanced over her shoulder at Nicholas, who stood still, watching them with a mild expression. Jim leaned down and whispered. “I’ll wait for you here.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine. If you can, you should just go back. I’ll pay you for the trip.”
“Nah,” he said. “It was for old time’s sake.”
“You don’t have to wait for me.”
But he did. He couldn’t just leave her in the middle of nowhere with the first random guy