Jill staggered ashore.

The dinghy ground against wet sand with a dull scrape, and Jill tumbled out, her bare feet sinking into the cool grit. The moon hung low, casting a pale silver glow over the beach — a forgotten stretch of coastline, hemmed in by jagged cliffs and dark forest.

She was still naked.

Salt clung to her skin in a sheen, her muscles quivering from exertion and adrenaline. Her chest rose and fell in deep, ragged breaths. Sea spray had soaked her hair, tangling it around her shoulders in dark, wet strands. Her body was flushed, skin sensitive, nipples still painfully hard from the cold and the insane rush of what she’d just survived.

The bastard had touched her. Claimed her. Tried to break her.

But he hadn’t.

Jill straightened slowly, her legs unsteady, the moonlight catching the curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts, the rawness of her scraped knees. She looked like a castaway — a beautiful, defiant castaway — washed up on the edge of nowhere, but still dangerous.

Still Jill.

She walked.

The sand shifted beneath her feet, cool and damp. Every step made her more aware of her own body — the way her thighs rubbed together, the stickiness between her legs, the ache in her wrists from the cuffs. Her body buzzed, a strange cocktail of trauma and heat that hadn’t fully faded. That refused to fade.

She felt… alive.

Ahead, an old lifeguard tower stood crooked, silhouetted against the tree line. Jill made for it, teeth gritted against the wind that teased across her naked form. It wasn’t much, but it would be shelter. Safety. A place to think.

She climbed the creaking ladder, her bare skin brushing against rusted metal and splintered wood. Inside, it was dusty, empty — but there was a blanket. Sun-bleached, moth-eaten, but there.

She dropped to her knees, wrapping it around herself, her breath still uneven. Her thighs were slick. Her skin pulsed. She hated how turned on she still felt. It was a cruel trick of biology. A body that didn’t understand trauma — just sensation.

Jill leaned back, pulling the blanket tighter around her chest, and looked out at the sea