Despite her resolve to tell Sawyer everything the night before, Kate woke up feeling uneasy about her rash promise. She hadn't had any nightmares the night before, and she was tempted to believe they were gone for good.
Or at least for awhile.
Kate never let herself get used to being in one place for long. As a kid, she lived on the expectation that getting her driver's license and a used car would mean the end of her living at home. She could go somewhere else, preferably with Tom, and be free from her mother's passivity and Wayne's abuse. Tom had known, to an extent, what it was like living with those two. He hadn't known everything—no one had—but he knew enough to understand Kate's need to escape.
Or as he called her then, Katie.
She smiled to herself. He had been the only one to keep up the childhood nickname past the age of twelve. To her mother, she had always been Katherine. To Wayne, she had been "you" or "girl". To her father, she had been Katie until she decided to call herself Kate. But Tom insisted on using her childhood nickname long past anyone else.
She hadn't minded, much.
She had wanted to get a part time job after school as soon as she could work. As a kid, Kate maintained a fairly successful paper route. This went on until she was twelve. Then, she had helped her father with paperwork on the weekends for another two years. When Kate turned fourteen, her mother reluctantly let her work as a waitress at the nearby diner two nights a week after school, and then on Saturday afternoon. The condition to this had been that Kate kept her grades up, but this had never been an issue. School came easily to Kate, and she was smarter than most of the kids in her class.
Also smart enough to act normal so they couldn't call her names like dork or geek. Kate had never been popular but she kept a few girls as acquaintances during middle school and high school.
Tom had always been her best friend.
Anyway, escaping from her life hadn't been as easy as going to college or making enough money to start over somewhere. Kate usually saved whatever she earned, with the exception of buying a motorcycle instead of the used car, and she worked enough hours for the money to add up. She kept most of the money in a bank account but had the sense to withdraw it a few weeks before blowing up her house.
There had been over five thousand dollars in her account, more than enough to keep Kate going if she had to go into hiding.
Which she had.
Plus, Kate had found ways to earn money under the table and managed not to spend any of it unless she absolutely had to. She would steal if she had to, but mostly Kate got used to feeling somewhat hungry and not sleeping in a house. It was also part of the reason Kate let herself date guys who resembled Wayne more than she would have liked to admit. She would never consider herself a prostitute, but having sex with a nice guy who thought she was hot was a good way to be assured of having a bed and food for a few months.
Traveling to Australia had been expensive but necessary. Kate assumed the marshal would never look for her outside of North America.
Turned out she was wrong.
She had been wrong about a lot.
On the island, Kate couldn't run. Then again, on the island Kate also didn't have to worry about survival. It was ironic that everyone was so afraid of starvation and dehydration when there was plenty of fruit, fish, water, and even boar meat for those who thought it was okay to kill another practically sentient being. All they had to do was stay away from the creepy "others", not kill each other, and not get killed.
Piece of cake.
Sure, they didn't have washing machines or snacks or hot water, but they also didn't have to work 9-5 jobs in order to pay for these conveniences. Jack had seemed genuinely surprised that Kate and Sun started planting a garden, as though the food was just going to grow magically.
Actually, Kate realized with a grin, it might. This island was not normal.
Then she found the briefcase and with that, an unexpected relationship with one of the most attractive but most unappealing men on the island. It sounded like something Kate would read in a trashy romance novel by Nora Roberts—if she ever read trashy romance novels by Nora Roberts.
She didn't.
As much as Kate tried not to like Sawyer, she couldn't help it. He was hot, she was a single female, and his biting remarks were usually pretty funny.
Besides, he called her Freckles. Much better than some of the other names people had called her.
Bitch, slut, lunatic, murderer. The list went on and on.
So even though Kate wanted to act the way she had with the others, she didn't. Sawyer was different. Underneath the toughness, he actually had a heart.
Kate groaned as she realized her situation really did sound like a trashy romance novel.
Anyway, the last few weeks with Sawyer had been great, and she was willing to stifle her urge to run if it meant the next few would be the same. Problem was, Kate's conscience must have been nagging at her something fierce because those dreams were vivid, intense, and horrible. And the fact that Sawyer cared enough to comfort her after she woke up, along with pretty much everything else about their relationship, meant that he should probably know at least part of what had happened.
Of all people, he'd be the one to understand. It wasn't like Sawyer didn't have a few skeletons in his closet.
She lay wrapped in his arms as she pondered this, a part of her marveling at how nice it was to be held by someone who actually cared about her. This wasn't some act, some way to con the police. There were no police here. It was just her, Sawyer, and a group of strangers who didn't know anything about her and wouldn't learn anything significant about her. As far as they were concerned, she was the quiet, pretty, hard working girl who worked to make sure everyone stayed alive.
Not the insane, psychotic bitch that appeared to endanger the lives of everyone she met.
Sawyer shifted in his sleep, nearly crushing her as he shifted his weight.
"You don't have to kill me!" she half snapped, half teased, as she made her way out of his arms.
Sawyer's eyes opened. "Say what?"
"You practically rolled on top of me," Kate explained.
Sawyer stretched, evidently still half asleep. "If you say so, princess."
He rolled over on his other side, reaching his arms out for her. "'S too early. Come on."
Kate paused. "You better not crush my lungs."
"I won't crush your lungs," Sawyer replied with a yawn. His eyes were closed and it was clear he had no idea what was going on.
Kate switched to the other side of the makeshift bed and curled up next to him. It was still pretty early. She was starting to feel tired too. Plenty of time to tell him later.
Kate began to snore a few minutes later, only stopping when Sawyer covered her mouth with his hand and muttered, "Shh."
