Chapter 8: Risk
1133 Words
“Right.” Irene nodded, agreeing with Jackson’s statement. “Someone went through the trouble of securing these clothes like they were top-secret government files. Why?”
Jackson crossed his arms, his brows furrowed as he pondered.
“Maybe they weren’t protecting the contents,” he said, looking at Irene. “Maybe those people were protecting who they belong to.”
Irene’s eyes darkened at the suspicion.
Since her family mostly invested in start-up businesses and fought against some of the corrupt politicians, he knew that Jackson was right.
Whoever owned this suitcase wasn’t just a pervert. That person might have been dealing with illegal businesses, including using people for their own gain and selling them in different countries for extra profit.
People like that always have secrets worth keeping.
And secrets like that… Always led to trouble.
“That person assigned to bring this wherever it would be… t-they won’t go this far just to look for this suitcase, right?” Irene asked, looking at Jackson for validation.
She forced a laugh and scratched her head.
“I mean, we’re in Tempest Island, after all. No one would dare go here if they could replace the clothes and suitcase in just a snap.”
“You’re right,” Jackson replied, putting the pile of clothes to the side so he could look what are the other things underneath. “The clothes and suitcase were irreplaceable.”
Jackson pulled something below the suitcase’s cover. “But not this one.”
He showed Irene a phone, which had a large chance of being a burner, and two transparent sachets that contained powder.
She squinted her eyes and held the transparent sachets, looking at them with curiosity evident on her face.
“Oh my God!” Irene gasped, realizing what it was. “W-Was that… drugs?”
“Yes. Mixed with diamond dust,” Jackson replied, pointing to the sparkling part on the sachet. “It was combined like this to make the drug more luxurious to look at. However…”
“However?” Irene asked, frowning.
“Diamond dust was used as a poison,” he explained, his expression hardening. “It could cause internal bleeding to the person who will consume it, leading to death.”
Irene gasped, covering her mouth with both hands. Hearing Jackson’s explanation right now, a terrifying idea went to her mind.
“Could this be… a secret assassination method?” she asked, the shock and disbelief evident in her tone.
“You’re quicker to catch on than I thought,” Jackson told her.
“Oh, shit.” Irene trembled as her breathing ragged. “Just… Just what kind of mess are we in right now?! Why did you even take that suitcase from the sea?!”
“Because I want both of us to survive,” Jackson answered, his voice laced with sincerity as he looked Irene in the eye. “And if it means taking every risk to find something that we could use to get out of here, I will.”
Irene swallowed hard. She could even hear her heartbeat because of fear.
The realization of what they had discovered caused fear to creep onto Irene’s skin, making her chest rise up and down as if she didn’t know what to do.
This wasn’t just about the lost suitcase. Someone had gone to great lengths to ensure this suitcase would be transported to the person meant to receive it.
And now… it was in theirs.
Irene glanced around as if expecting danger to come from the jungle surrounding them.
“Jackson,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “If someone was willing to go this far to hide this suitcase from anyone, it means it’s so important for them.
Irene added to ask, “What if they know it’s missing? What if they come looking?”
“Probably, they are already looking for it,” Jackson answered, running his hands through his hair.
Irene’s stomach churned.
The thought of ruthless criminals going to the island for their lost shipment—one laced with a deadly secret—made her blood run cold.
“Don’t worry about it. I won’t put you in danger,” Jackson said as his gaze moved toward Irene, his tone laced with sincerity. “If ever they go here to find it, just tell them that you don’t know about it.”
“What?” Irene asked, looking at Oliver in disbelief. “How can I do that if I already know what’s inside? I already saw it!”
“Then act like you didn’t,” Jackson replied, his voice now commanding. “Remember what you promised me before. That you will do everything to survive.”
Irene bit her lower lip and looked away, not knowing what to say.
Jackson, on the other hand, stared at Irene’s lips, which complemented her cheeks flushing red.
For him, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen—like the sunset coloring the sky.
He couldn’t help but smile, but before Irene could notice it, he diverted his attention to the phone, which was turned off for now.
“You think we can use it?” Irene asked, her breathing hitched.
“If it still has power, maybe.” Jackson picked it up, pressing the button on the side.
The screen lit up, causing Jackson’s face to be pale. He didn’t know what to feel upon seeing that the phone was still working.
Someone could use the opened phone to track them, which could lead them to two conclusions: they could be taken away or killed by that person, especially upon knowing that they already saw what was inside the suitcase.
Or they could escape Tempest Island without that person knowing their identity.
Jackson’s grip on the phone tightened, desperate to find ways to escape.
Tempest Island may look peaceful right now, looking at the jungle and the sunlight making contact with their skin. But the question is, for how long?
“Someone’s calling,” Irene suddenly said as she pointed at the phone, snapping Jackson to his senses.
Jackson stiffened upon seeing the incoming call. It was from an unknown number, which was giving him a bad feeling.
“Are you going to answer it?” Irene asked, her voice cracking. “Whoever it could be, we could ask them for help—”
Before Irene could finish her sentence, Jackson ended the call and shook his head.
“We never know who it could be,” Jackson said, his tone laced with sincerity. “I know that I told you I’m willing to take a risk on everything if it means we’ll survive, but if that risk includes your life… Then I’d rather find another way.”
- Writer
