The Tortured Rebel by Alison Roberts Read Free Book Online Page B

absolute it was impossible to think of Matt without thinking of Jet, and vice versa.
    So it was like part of her brother was here with her now. Promising to look after her. Expecting her to trust him, but how could she when she knew that that trustcould be broken? Unintentionally, maybe, but the effect would be the same and she’d be alone again. In the end, Becca knew she had only herself to rely on with that kind of certainty.
    But the pull towards leaning on Jet and giving him that trust was so strong it was a physical pain and that was why Becca was crying now. Maybe, if she hadn’t just watched in horror as the wreckage of her aircraft had slipped into that blood-red sea when she had been sure Jet was still inside it, she might have been powerless to resist that pull on her heart. But for just a few of its beats there she’d known how unwise it would be to give Jet any part of her heart, and trusting him would do precisely that.
    For those few, ghastly seconds she’d known she was on her own again and she’d known that she
could
survive. She’d done it before and she knew how. She knew that a big part of being able to survive was about dodging emotional as well as physical damage. For however long it would take to get off this island, the man coming towards her now, weighed down by the bulky gear he was carrying, was just as dangerous as the exploding volcano high above them.
    ‘Sorry, this is going to sting like mad.’
    ‘You could just stitch it up. You don’t need to waste the local.’
    Jet snorted. ‘I don’t happen to have a bullet handy for you to bite on. Hold still. Damn, this light is still awful.’
    ‘I’m sure you can do this with your eyes shut. Your reputation precedes you with the speed of light. Hey, well done! You’re wearing gloves this time.’
    Was she mocking him? Jet sent her a suspicious glower but Becca’s head was bent. Good grief, she actually wanted to watch him cobbling up this nasty gash on her arm? And she was prepared to have it done without the benefit of local anaesthetic?
    She had a mask on now. They both did. It was the first thing Jet had sorted, having arrived back on the beach and emptied the extra supplies from inside his jacket, just in case they suddenly got enveloped by an ash cloud. He was perfectly used to being around people wearing surgical masks. He was even used to being in environments where the light was weird due to explosions and smoke and so forth, but Becca had never been in a war zone, as far as he knew. This had to be an extraordinary experience for her, sitting hunched and injured on a beach in the middle of nowhere, bathed in the glow of molten lava and shivering with the cold and probably fear and yet, here she was, managing to keep her arm steady on his knee ready for him to do some minor surgery.
    He grunted softly. A sound of respect. ‘Pretty tough, aren’t you?’
    Becca shrugged. ‘When I need to be.’
    It had to hurt, sliding the needle in deeply enough to numb the edges of this wound. He saw the way she flinched and he could feel it himself. It wasn’t that he was ever without sympathy for any patient he was inflicting a painful procedure on but this felt different. Unpleasant enough to make this an ordeal for both of them so it was best he got it done as efficiently as possible.
    And he was wearing the damn gloves for her protection, not his.
    Waiting only a minute or two for the local to take effect, Jet busied himself sorting the dressing and bandages he’d need. He located his suture materials and some small pouches of saline. Ripping the corner of the first pouch, he tipped the sterile liquid onto the wound. Becca sucked in her breath and Jet winced inwardly.
    ‘Not quite numb, huh?’
    ‘I’m fine,’ she said through obviously gritted teeth. ‘Just get on with it. We need to get out of here.’ She was silent for a moment and when she spoke again, her tone was far less sure. ‘Do you think we’ll be able to get to the