Page 33 of Dauntless
And stared down at the packs of medication and bandages there.
The diary…
Henry Jessup’s diary wasgone.
My heart raced and my blood ran cold.
“Hey,” Eddie said.“You’ve got spinach here too.Want me to make omelettes instead?I make a mean omelette.”
I reached into the chest and pulled the first tray out.I dug through the contents, scattering wrapped bandages and dressings all over the kitchen floor.
Hiccup grabbed one and brought it back to me.She dropped it and waited expectantly to be told she was a good girl.
I hauled out the second tray, sending a plastic jar of pills rattling over the floor.
“Joe,” Eddie said, “what’s…”
He trailed off as he came to stand beside me.
I looked up at him.
Eddie’s expression was as tight as his voice.“Where’s the diary?”
“I don’t…” I shook my head.“It’s gone.”
Eddie stepped back, the colour rushing from his face.He reached out and gripped the top of a chair as though he was afraid he’d stumble.
“How can it be gone?”he asked.“It was in a locked box, and the only person who has a key is…”
I didn’t have an answer for him, just another useless shake of my head.
“You,” Eddie said flatly.“You’re the only person who has a key.Fuck!Itrustedyou!I always do this—I—fuck!”
I rose to my feet.
Eddie took another step away from me.“It sure would make things easier for you if the diary vanished, wouldn’t it, Joe?”
“What?Jesus, Eddie, no!”
“You have his name, Joe,” Eddie said.“You’re the one with the most to lose if it comes out Josiah Nesmith was a criminal, not a hero.You’re the king of the fucking island, and you took my side, not theirs.Thatmattered.”His eyes shone with angry tears.“What?Did you have second thoughts about backing aHawthorne?Did you get rid of it because all your little subjects gave you shit for it?
“No,” I said woodenly.“I don’t care about that.”
He glared at me.“Was I not good enough in bed?”
“What?Eddie, god!Why would?—”
“And ofcourseyou care about that island king bullshit,” he shouted.“This whole fucking place does!”He dragged his hands through his hair.“Oh, Jesus.I need to go.I need to fucking go.”
I reached out a hand.
“Don’t,” Eddie said, his voice colder than I would have ever thought possible.“Don’t you touch me.I need to go.”He edged around the kitchen table, disappearing into the living room.He appeared moments later, shoving his stuff into his ugly orange backpack.
“Eddie,” I said over the buzzing in my skull.“Please.You’ll freeze out there.”
Eddie held his gaze, angry and defiant.
“Just think,” I said.“Please, just think.If I’d taken the diary, why the hell would I have opened the chest in front of you?”
