Locked by Parker Witter Read Free Book Online Page A

resistance. He sets me down. In the moonlight I can see how much effort it takes. How fast he’s breathing. “Not now,” he says. It’s firm. Definitive. “You should sleep.”
    My body is vibrating, buzzing so loudly from the shock of his lack of contact. Blood pounds in my temples so strong that I can’t even form a retort. I can’t try to convince him.
    And then he walks down the hallway and into the living room. I just stand there. Caught between the past and this—whatever this is. Him.

Chapter Seven
    My body feels awake and alive before I even open my eyes. I pop out of bed and pull a canvas sarong over me. I go into the living room, then out onto the deck, but Noah is nowhere to be found.
    I grab an apple from a basket and sit out in the sun. The apples are rosier than they have been—maybe Noah healed them yesterday. There are green beans there, too, and I take a handful, snapping off the ends and stuffing them into my mouth. They taste decadent. Like chocolate. I laugh out loud and then hear movement behind me.
    I turn to find Noah, two spears in hand. A wide smile on his face.
    â€œCome on,” he says. “It’s time you put yourself to use. I’m going to teach you how to fish.”
    â€œSeriously?” I say, but I know I’m doing a terrible job of hiding my delight. Spending the whole day with him sounds like heaven.
    Noah gives me a lopsided smile. “I think it’s time you chipped in. I’m tired of doing all the heavy lifting. It has been a week, and you have not once killed what you’ve eaten.”
    I roll my eyes and dust myself off. “Let me just change,” I say.
    I put on my shorts from the plane. Luckily my bra had nearly no damage, and I slip it on under a canvas top. No shoes, but my feet are adjusting to the rocks. The first few days they were tender and sore and bruised, but I think they’re developing an extra skin—leathery, thick.
    I’m just about to meet him outside when I realize there are no mirrors here. I haven’t seen my reflection in what feels like forever. Strangely, I don’t miss it.
    â€œReady,” I say as I round the corner.
    Noah’s eyes trace up my legs, and I feel my whole body flush with the memory of last night—his arms. His breath on my neck. The low hum of his voice as he promised not to leave me. Then: how he said “Not now.” For the first time, I realize it wasn’t a no.
    I can’t help but feel a little dizzy. And I know it’s not just the sun as we walk. Noah moves quickly, but this time I can keep up. He takes me back to the river we climbed to our first day here. The one I got sick at. Immediately he bends down and scoops up water, drinking deeply. I scream out.
    â€œWhat?” he says, racing over toward me, water dripping off his chin. “What happened?”
    â€œNoah,” I say. “We can’t drink from there. It almost killed me.” I check his face frantically. Already one foot ready to find Asku and get those herbs.
    â€œOh,” Noah says. “That.” But he’s biting his lip, a half smile on his face.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThat wasn’t the water. That was…me.”
    â€œYou?” I cross my arms over my chest.
    â€œYou had a bad reaction to my healing powers .” He makes air quotes around the last two words. “Apparently I did not do it entirely right. I’m learning now.” He looks at me sideways.
    â€œThanks for almost killing me,” I say, charging past him and into the stream.
    â€œ Saving you,” he corrects, following me.
    The water is shallow, only coming up to my knees, and it’s crystal clear. I dangle my fingers in it, bring a cup up to my lips.
    â€œI promise,” Noah says, seeing me hesitate. “The water is fine.”
    I drink and remember how it felt that first night, right before I got sick—delicious, chilled