Three days had passed since Chloe confronted me about what she called "the harem." Since then, she'd barely spoken to me. Wouldn't look at me. Slept on the far edge of the mattress with her back turned.
I let her sulk. Lydia and Rachel took care of me instead.
This morning, I'd woken up with Rachel's mouth wrapped around my cock while Lydia kissed my neck. Chloe had been awake, pretending to sleep. I'd finished in Rachel's throat, made Lydia lick the excess off my shaft, and dressed without saying a word to Chloe.
Now, mid-afternoon, I stood in the center of the main cabin and called everyone together.
"Meeting," I said. "Everyone. Now."
They filed in slowly. Martha entered first, moving to the far wall and crossing her arms. She'd been watching me more carefully these past few days.
Chloe came next, her jaw tight, her eyes deliberately avoiding mine. She sat next to her mother, her arms crossed in a mirror of Martha's posture.
Lydia entered quietly and sat in the corner without being told where to go. She'd fully accepted her role. No resistance. No questions. Just obedience.
Isaac and David came in together, standing near the door. They'd become inseparable over the past few days — whispering, glancing, forming their own pathetic little alliance. Two broken men bonding over shared humiliation.
Finally, Rachel entered.
She hesitated at the doorway, her eyes flicking to David, then to me, then to the floor.
"Come here, Rachel," I said.
She walked over slowly, her face already flushing red.
I sat down on the wooden chair at the edge of the room and patted my lap.
Her eyes went wide. "Jack, I—"
"Sit."
David's fists clenched. Isaac's eyes dropped to the floor.
Rachel sat on my lap, stiff and trembling. I wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her back against my chest. She let out a soft gasp.
Then I slid my other hand down the front of her shorts.
She jerked, her breath hitching. "Jack—"
I pushed two fingers inside her.
She was already wet.
"Shhh," I murmured against her ear, just loud enough for the room to hear. "You're fine. Just sit still and listen."
David's face went pale, then red. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then closed it. His eyes were locked on my arm, disappearing into his mother's shorts. His fists were shaking.
And his sweatpants couldn't hide the bulge.
"We have a problem," I said calmly, my fingers still working inside Rachel. She let out a quiet whimper, her thighs trembling. "The ammunition is degraded. Half of it got waterlogged when the yacht went down. What's left is corroding. We're down to maybe seven, eight reliable rounds."
I curled my fingers harder. Rachel's breath came in short gasps.
"We can't just sit here waiting for salvation," I continued. "We don't even know where the hell we are. No one's coming. So we need to think long-term."
Martha spoke up, her voice tight. "What are you suggesting?"
"We need to scout the island," I said. "Know where the danger starts and ends. We need to fortify this place—build defenses, set up a perimeter. Make this a fortress."
Isaac frowned. "What about the bear? We still need to kill it before—"
"The bear hasn't come near camp in days," I said. "If it shows up, we deal with it. But right now, we don't know what else is out there. That's a bigger problem."
"Isaac. David," I said. "Get your gear. We leave in ten minutes."
---
The jungle was thick and humid as we pushed deeper into territory we'd never explored. We'd been walking for over an hour, moving uphill into rocky terrain, the vegetation growing denser.
Isaac tried to make small talk at first—nervous energy, filling the silence. I ignored him.
David walked a few paces behind, silent and seething. Every now and then I'd catch him staring at the back of my head, his fists clenched.
We climbed higher, the ground growing rockier, the air slightly cooler. The canopy thinned here, letting shafts of sunlight break through.
That's when we heard it.
A low, guttural sound. Not a roar. Not aggressive.
I stopped, raising a hand. Isaac and David froze.
"Stay here," I said, pulling the Glock from my waistband. "Don't move."
"Jack, wait—" Isaac started.
"I said stay."
I pushed through the thick ferns alone, following the sound. After about fifty feet, I stepped into a small clearing.
And stopped.
The bear.
The massive, dark-brown beast that had terrorized our camp for weeks. The apex predator of the island.
A bear. On a tropical island. That had bothered me since the first time I heard it growling outside the cabin. Bears don't live in places like this. Someone brought it here.
And now someone had trapped it.
It was lying on its side, panting heavily, the dirt around it torn up and soaked with blood. Its hind leg was caught in the jagged steel teeth of a massive bear trap—rusted metal, heavy-duty springs, chained to a thick tree with a bolted anchor.
This wasn't David's vine contraption. This was professional. Old, but well-made. The kind of thing a hunter or trapper would use.
*Someone else is on this island.*
The bear's eyes tracked me as I approached, but it didn't growl. Didn't try to lunge. It just watched, its breathing labored, its body exhausted.
It had been fighting this trap for days. Maybe longer. The flesh around the steel jaws was mangled, bone visible. It was dehydrated, starving.
It was waiting to die.
I raised the Glock, aiming between its eyes.
The bear didn't flinch. It just stared at me with dull, defeated eyes.
I saw myself in those eyes.
An apex predator, brought low. Trapped. Broken.
I lowered the gun.
"I know the feeling," I muttered.
I stepped closer—close enough that one swipe of its massive paw could have killed me. But it didn't move. It just let out a low, pathetic huff.
I'd brought the Glock and a sharpened branch I'd been using as a walking stick — good enough to probe the ground for snakes, and in a pinch, good enough to stab something.
The rusted springs groaned.
With a loud *clack*, the steel jaws snapped open.
The bear didn't jump up. It slowly pulled its mangled leg free, whimpering softly. Blood poured from the wound.
I backed away, keeping my hand on the Glock, just in case.
The bear lay there for a long moment, licking its wound. Then, slowly, it rolled onto its stomach. Its eyes met mine.
"Good luck," I said, turning my back on it.
I walked back toward Isaac and David.
I was halfway there when I heard it.
Heavy breathing. The soft crunch of leaves.
I stopped and looked back.
The bear was following me.
Limping, blood dripping from its leg, but following. Its massive head hung low, its eyes locked on me.
I stared at it.
It stopped when I stopped. Waiting.
I turned and kept walking.
The bear followed.
I didn't fool myself into thinking this was loyalty. The bear was injured, starving, and I was the first thing in days that hadn't tried to kill it. Following me was a survival calculation, not devotion.
But it was following. And that was enough.
---
Isaac and David were exactly where I'd left them, looking nervous.
"What was it?" Isaac asked. "Did you—"
The ferns behind me rustled.
David's eyes went wide. "Oh fuck—"
The bear stepped out of the jungle.
David screamed and fell backward, scrambling in the dirt. Isaac froze completely, his face white as snow, unable to move.
The bear limped up beside me and stopped. It stood there, its massive head just behind my shoulder, huffing softly.
"SHOOT IT!" David screamed from the ground. "Jack, SHOOT IT!"
I didn't raise my gun. If this thing had wanted to eat me, it had already passed up the opportunity.
"Relax," I said calmly. "He's with me now."
Isaac's mouth opened and closed. No sound came out.
I started walking back toward camp.
The bear limped along beside me, matching my pace.
Isaac and David followed at a distance. Neither of them said a word the entire way back.
---
We reached the cabin just before sunset.
Lydia was the first to see us. She was tending the fire outside when she looked up—and screamed.
The bear emerged behind me, its bulk parting the ferns like curtains.
Martha burst out of the cabin, a knife in her hand. Chloe appeared in the doorway, her eyes going wide.
Rachel, who'd been sitting on the porch, scrambled backward, her hand over her mouth.
"JACK!" Martha shouted. "GET AWAY FROM IT!"
I raised a hand. "Stop. It's fine."
"It's a fucking BEAR!" Martha yelled.
"I know what it is," I said calmly.
The bear huffed and sat down heavily beside me, favoring its injured leg.
Everyone stared in stunned silence.
Martha lowered the knife slowly, her face pale. "How…?"
"Found him caught in a trap," I said. "A metal trap. Chained to a tree."
The group went silent.
"Someone else is here," I continued. "Someone who knows how to hunt. And they're not friendly."
Isaac's voice was shaking. "What do we do?"
I looked at the bear, then back at the group.
"We fortify," I said. "Build the perimeter, set up watch rotations, reinforce the cabin. Whatever's out there, when they come — and they will come, we'll be ready."