Brandon Enns - Islanders

He rolled over in bed. The sheets were wet. I pissed the bed? He glanced down at blood. When his head turned, he came face-to-face with Skye, her mouth wide open. He scrambled off of the bed, blood and vomit splashing about.

Her throat had been cut wide open. There were ligature marks around her wrists and ankles, her eyes partially open and angled to the side. She had known only horror leading up to her death.

Trevor closed her mouth and eyes, and her skin was cool to the touch. He scrambled off of the bed and snatched his pants and dressed. I’m dreaming. I have to be dreaming. He turned away from her dead body, from the blood, the smells, and racked his brain, searching for an answer. Skye is dead. She’s dead… Focus Trevor… Did I do this? No, you didn’t do this. Someone is trying to set you up. Cassidy did this.

On the breakfast table was a folder. Trevor tiptoed around the blood and opened it. There was a note. “Should we kill Ashton or your father?” A slew of photos had been taken of his dad around his home, and also around his law office. The message continued: “Murder looks good on you. Kill Bruce. Or accept our decision between Ashton and your old man.”

Next to the folder on the table sat a gun. Making sure he kept his back turned to Skye’s bloodied body, he left the villa with gun and folder in hand. He had no choice. The only thing to do was kill an old man he didn’t know, had suspicions of to begin with, in order to save his friend and father.

Trevor made it to the beach and walked up to the tree line and dug a small hole with his hands and buried the folder. The evidence that he was coerced into murdering Bruce would certainly come in handy, and the threats couldn’t have been clearer. Which side was Stefan on? Were there sides? Walking down the beach, Trevor fumbled around with the gun until finally figuring out how to load it.

Just a quick vacation to take a break from school. A little beach, a little beer, lots of food, a little sleeping in. What would it hurt? If anything, the break should have helped clear the fog that had seemed to have settled in. She would be more efficient with her studies when she returned to her life.

Now, she was faced with a decision. Let them kill Skye or kill Stefan. She couldn’t risk them murdering Skye.

Stefan remained on the couch, strung out, hands pulling at his dark hair. The gun remained on the kitchen counter, closer to her.

Erin swayed back and forth on her decision. Option three just wouldn’t present itself. Her hand slid along the table and stopped. Who wants Stefan dead? Bruce lived there before him, so maybe there were some disagreements with how he was running the land. As they had discussed on the other side of the island, there were too many unknowns about him, and their encounter with him in his cabin was less than pleasant. Granted they had broken in to his place while he looked for their missing friend. Okay, that leaves the staff. Her encounter with Teresa was pleasant in a way, but there was something strange about her. Maybe the staff drove the previous owners out? Or maybe they are in alliance with Bruce? Bruce expressed his frustrations with Stefan when we were in his cabin. Something about property lines.

How are they seeing me right now? She glanced at her phone, then looked around the ceiling and kitchen cupboards for a camera. They were either in the surveillance room downstairs or in Bruce’s cabin. Or the duplex. Erin hadn’t stepped foot in Ashton and Skye’s side of the duplex yet, largely because they were humping whenever they got a chance. Erin slid her hand back away from the gun, dumped the coffee, and snagged a bottle of water from the fridge. She needed more time. Just then, another text came through, vibrating against her leg. She checked it. “Time is of concern.”

Another video came in. She took out the phone and played the video without volume. A knife was being held to Skye’s throat, applying enough pressure to barely break the skin.

“What’s going on?” Stefan asked. He looked at her and the phone. “Your phone shouldn’t work here.” He rose from the couch, his face switching from confusion to suspicion. “Erin, I’m not going to ask you again.” Thud , thud , thud . Surely her heart would pop like a balloon. “What’s on the phone, Erin?”

She shoved it back in her pocket and tried to play it casual, but it was too late for that. “It’s nothing. I was just looking at old messages from Trevor. I hope he’s okay.”

“Is that right? Because it looked like you were reading something relatively new to me.”

Thud , thud , thud . “No, it—”

“You wouldn’t happen to be playing me? You and Trevor? You wouldn’t do that, right?”

“Play you? What does that even mean?”

“I’m such an idiot.” He laughed. “I should have given you all more credit.” He was angry now. “Take over my plans with some of your own. Embarrass me, is that it? Or is he getting back at me?”

“Back at you for what?”

“You must know.”

“I don’t.”

“I should have known he’d never let that go. His shortsightedness has reached a new level.”

“What happened?”

“Just kids being kids. Kids are cruel though, aren’t they? Nothing a little growing up can’t fix. We’re only human, right?”

“Stefan, you’re scaring me. Just tell me what happened between you two.”

“I’d hate to tarnish your cute little image of him.”

“Trust me. His image is shattered. Stefan, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I bet Trevor is having a good time with this.” He had a snarl she hadn’t seen before. It was violent. “I wouldn’t have expected you to go along with something like this though. Why?”

He was inching closer now, closing the distance. “Just stay back.”

“I thought we had an honest connection. I thought we were friends.”

“We are friends, I just—” He was close enough now. She tried to give him an exaggerated look to let him know something was up, that she needed to tell him something important. There were eyes and ears on them, and she couldn’t speak the truth. But he was too blinded by rage.

“What do you see in him anyway?”

It was a good question, but not at that time.

“Give me something. So he’s attractive. But how long is that enough for? Especially for someone like you. You’ve got too much depth for that. I know that’s a fact.”

Her hand was on the counter. She was ready to grab the gun.

“I saw the way you looked at me. More than once, whenever I spoke. You liked what I had to say. You don’t like what Trevor has to say.”

He hovered over top of her, his eyes wild and fierce.

“I can’t tell you…” They were the wrong words, confirming his delirious allegations. “What exactly do you think I’m behind?”

“I think you don’t know exactly what you’re behind.”

“What does that mean? Let’s lose the code-speak, Stefan.”

He grinned and shook his head. “A rouse to squander my intentions. Humiliation is a powerful thing, especially for him… But no. That’s not it. He’ll have you believe that’s it, but it isn’t. You’re thinking this is a playful prank… I’ve seen his behavior. I saw the blood. Where is he, Erin? Where is he?” He shouted the second time. “I’ll tell you. He’s murdering Skye and Ashton and it’ll all come crumbling down on me. An easy frame job while you two ride off into the sunset. You’ll be convinced it was all my doing…” He shook his head. “I’ve been so foolish. Tell me I’m wrong.”