Fourth a Lie (GODDESS ISLES Book 4)

by Pepper Winters

“I have tried to make you see sense, Sinclair. I warned you elixir was too strong.”

  “Strong is different from suicidal.”

  “Elixir will end up killing a girl one day because of your negligence. You can’t keep playing god. I won’t let you.” He sighed, smoothing a hand over his thinning white hair. “Look, I made a mistake enlisting the help of your brother. When he offered to persuade your mind about ceasing the use of elixir, I shouldn’t have agreed. I should’ve known anyone related to you wouldn’t be of rational mind.”

  I snorted, squirming in my cuffs, trying to find a position that didn’t end with my bones throbbing against metal. “I’m the sane one, Jim. You’ve just unleashed the devil.”

  He sniffed with a slight smile, a strained truce forming between us. “I’m beginning to see that.”

  I winced as my leg burned with pulsing fire. “If you’re having second thoughts, you can try to remedy the situation by calling Peter Beck. Tell him I need reinforcements. Call the goddamn police.”

  “If I do...will you cease your enterprise? Will you release your goddesses? Will you destroy every single vial of elixir and swear never to make another drop?”

  My hands curled as hate sprang fresh. “I don’t bow to ultimatums, Jim.”

  “Then I can’t agree to serve you any—”

  The door smashed open, bringing starlight in from outside and the shadow of my cursed brother. “I hear you’re alive and talking, Sullivan.” Drake strode closer, stepping into the gloomy light of the lamp above me, his face a colourful patchwork of bruises.

  Satisfaction battled back some of my pain. I’d done that to him. I’d almost killed him with knuckles and rage.

  He looked me up and down, smirking. “You don’t look so good, baby brother.”

  “Funny, I was just thinking the same about you.”

  Snapping his fingers, he barked, “Someone get me a chair.”

  Dr Campbell faded to the side, his upper lip curling with distaste for Drake. At least he still retained common-sense in that regard. He might have been the reason Drake had found my islands and learned what I’d created, but his intentions hadn’t been betrayal. They’d been out of loyalty for girls I’d purchased and kept alive with no other attention than vague awareness.

  Doesn’t mean he won’t pay, though.

  He’d be punished.

  Painfully so.

  A human life was worth nothing to me because there was so many more to plague the earth.

  Turned out, Jim Campbell was my opposite.

  He fought for mankind. He viewed me as the enemy just as I viewed meat eaters as murderers.

  Drake sat heavily in a deck chair that one of his mercenaries brought over. He waved him away a moment later. Campbell went too, free to come and go under Drake’s command, slipping out the exit and hopefully going to tend to Skittles and Cal.

  I needed them both alive.

  I needed to stay alive so I could protect Eleanor from this creep.

  Drake hissed under his breath as he rubbed his shoulder where I’d stabbed him. “Thought you were dead.”

  I hid my wince as I tried to inch higher, giving up when my pain levels threatened to make me black out. “Hoped you were dead.”

  He grinned. “Why would I be dead? You couldn’t kill me even if I held the gun for you.”

  “Wouldn’t be so sure about that, brother. Your bruises say differently.”

  He leaned forward, holding his side where the bullet had grazed him. “Where are the goddesses?”

  I scowled. “Gone.”

  “Just like Eleanor Grace?” He clucked his tongue. “I’ll find her. I’ll find all of them.”

  My fever switched to ice. Thank fuck, he hadn’t caught her. Three days was a long time to be unconscious. She could be anywhere by now. Back home with her family. Back travelling with her motherfucking boyfriend.

  You know she’d never do that.

  Jinx was many things, but most of all, she was loyal to a goddamn fault.

  Too loyal.

  Shit, please tell me she’s left Indonesia and isn’t trying to—

  “I actually have a piece of news on the girlfriend front.” Drake smiled coldly. “I found your favourite goddess. Seems she’s been asking around Jakarta for your whereabouts. Reports say she’s a little frustrated that you sent her away without a means of return.”

  I stopped breathing. “Leave her the fuck out of this.”

  “You can keep repeating that little demand, but we both know that’s not gonna happen.” Raking a hand through his hair, he added, “She’s determined, I’ll give her that. You’ve finally tricked someone into falling in love with you.” He cocked his head, fluttering his eyes like a fool. “Isn’t that cute? My baby brother has a woman. She could become my sister-in-law. It’s only fair that I help her travel home so I can meet her, right?”

  Metal clanged and twanged as I thrashed in my cuffs. “Don’t fucking touch her!”

  “Oh, I won’t do that until she’s here, Sullivan. I want you to watch when I fuck her the first time.” He bared his teeth. “I’m guessing we won’t have to wait too long. I gave her a pretty big fucking clue...and transportation.”

  Shit!

  SHIT!

  I kicked the sheet from around my legs. I ignored the trickle of blood from my bandage. I fought to remain human with the ability of speech rather than an animal with sharp teeth. “I’ll give you the recipe for elixir.”

  “That’s a given.” Drake laughed. “You’re going to give me the deed to your islands, your goddesses, your programs for Euphoria, and every ingredient of elixir. You’re going to watch me drug your girl and suffer all while she begs for my dick.” He stood and wrapped his hands around the cage bars, shaking it. “And once I’ve fucked her raw and everything that you own is mine...I’ll kill you. I’ll put a knife in your heart and put you out of your misery because I’m nice like that. I won’t sentence you to a life knowing that she’s mine. That I can take her whenever I damn well want. I’ll be an only child and inherit everything that I was supposed to before you murdered our parents and stole from me.”

  The room darkened as my heart crashed and collided with my bruised ribs.

  My blood boiled with utter fucking weakness of being trapped.

  Eleanor.

  Christ!

  Drake put his fingers in his ears as the noise of my clanging handcuffs reverberated around the room. “Quit that. I need you alive and not having a fucking seizure.”

  I snarled.

  I howled.

  I ignored every splintering pain and nauseous roil.

  I needed out.

  I needed her.

  I needed to kill my motherfucking brother before he broke the only person I ever loved.

  Eleanor...

  Goddammit, forget about me...before it’s too late.

  Chapter Sixteen

  THREE HORRIBLE ETERNAL DAYS.

  Fifty-seven travel agencies.

  Thirty-two hotels.

  Twenty-three tour companies.

  Eighteen cruise liners.

  Eleven airlines.

  Seven helicopter charters.

  And five airports.

  All with the exact same phone script: “Hello, I’m enquiring about a tour/flight/cruise/adventure that includes the destination Goddess Isles. It’s located an hour or so helicopter flight from Jakarta.”

  “Hello, ma’am. I will see if we have such a tour/flight/cruise/adventure that includes Goddess Isles, please hold.”

  A requisite hold period where my heart would rabbit and stupid, idiotic hope would rise. Only for disappointment to crush me deeper and deeper into despair as they returned. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. We do not have anything suitable.”

  “Have you heard of Goddess Isles?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Do you know of the proprietor, Sullivan Sinclair? He’s an American who has chosen Java as his home.”

  “No, ma’am.”

&nb
sp; “Can you suggest someone who might be able to charter/guide/find Goddess Isles?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Do you have anyone else I can call? A sister agency/airline/company?”

  “No, ma’am. Thank you for your call, ma’am. Good day.”

  Argh!!!!

  I dug my elbows into the desk and dropped my face into my palms.

  Sully!

  I swear if I wasn’t so fucking worried about him, I would be fuming wild!

  How dare he agree to temporary?

  How dare he fall in love with me?

  How dare he pretend to trust me, all while knowing that I was powerless to return to him!

  Three days!

  Three fucking days!

  Anything could’ve happened.

  He could be dead and in pieces on the ocean floor by now. He could be wounded and dying without me by his side. He could be held prisoner by his brother.

  Or...

  And this was the worst part.

  The sickening nerves and self-pity that kept me up at night, ensuring I hadn’t rested properly since sleeping in Sully’s arms with Nirvana splashing outside his bedroom.

  He could have killed Drake.

  He could’ve won the war.

  He could be back to drugging goddesses and entertaining his smarmy guests.

  He could have returned to his world...without me.

  He could look at his credit card statement and see I’d spent an exorbitant sum on three nights in a five-star hotel instead of flying home like his staff had told me.

  He could be laughing at me because I’d chosen to stay.

  He could be pitying me because I couldn’t damn well fly away without ensuring he was okay.

  Even a cell phone number would be fine.

  An email.

  A PO Box, for God’s sake.

  Anything so I could contact him and find out if he was still alive.

  I needed to hear his voice.

  I needed to hug him and convince myself that the nightmares that found me when I couldn’t stay awake weren’t real.

  That the images of him shot and injured weren’t real.

  That the fears of him bleeding out and dying on his beach weren’t real.

  That the terrors of Skittles and Pika being killed and plucked and roasted on a skewer weren’t real!

  Dammit!

  I stood in a rush, and the chair that I’d sat on for the past seventy-two hours and called every tourism and travel firm I could find in Indonesia, shot backward on its wheels.

  I’d exhausted my online searches.

  I’d spoken to every single person who could possibly, maybe, slimly help me.

  I’d even rang two police stations, enquiring if they knew of Sully Sinclair.

  And I’d run into dead end after dead end.

  I was in a maze with no way out. No clues. No hope.

  Sully was hidden, and no matter how hard I tried...he remained unreachable.

  Fine!

  Sweeping from the office space, I ran to the bathroom. I was done being a hermit in my hotel room. I’d shower, withdraw some cash, and swap online hunting for physical.

  I would door knock every damn backpacker, dive bar, and local transport.

  I would bribe every bus, taxi, and motorbike driver if they’d ever heard of Goddess Isles. I would march into every pet store and request if they’d made bulk sales to an island called Serigala. I’d talk to veterinary clinics for medicine deliveries. I’d track down supermarkets and wholesalers about large quantities of goods sent to an island in the middle of nowhere.

  I would do whatever it damn well took to find him.

  I’d chosen to be loyal.

  I’d chosen him as my future.

  No way was I walking away just because he’d sent me away and slammed the door in my face.

  It’s not permanent, Sully.

  I’ll find a way...you’ll see.

  And then, you and me? We’re having a serious chat about commitment.

  * * * * *

  “Sorry, ma’am. We don’t fly there.”

  “Sorry, ma’am. We don’t sail there.”

  “Sorry, ma’am. There is no island by that name.”

  “Sorry, ma’am. We have never heard of Sullivan Sinclair or Goddess Isles.”

  “Sorry, ma’am. We did not make bulk pet food deliveries to a place called Serigala.”

  “Sorry, ma’am. We do not have vets who treat rescue animals in the Javanese Sea.”

  “Sorry, ma’am. We do not have records of sending non-perishable food to Sullivan Sinclair.”

  “Sorry, ma’am.”

  “Sorry, ma’am.”

  “Sorry.”

  Sorry!

  Don’t tell me fucking sorry.

  Tell me something!

  Exhausted tears ran down my face as I stumbled from the tenth market that dealt in spices and sweets. I’d had to return to ATMs four times to withdraw money for bribes. I’d wafted hundred-dollar bills beneath the noses of tour operators, greengrocers, and vets.

  They all took the money.

  Yet they gave nothing in return.

  They either all lied spectacularly or...Sully had locked down his name, businesses, and address with military precision.

  What am I going to do?

  I didn’t even know where I was.

  I’d caught so many taxis, zipping north, south, east, and west, that I had no idea how to get back. I couldn’t remember the name of the hotel I’d been staying at. I had no belongings apart from the small bag I’d bought to keep my cash and passport inside and the pair of white sandals I’d grabbed from a local stall.

  I was homeless and frazzled, running on worry and adrenaline.

  I couldn’t keep up this level of franticness. But I also couldn’t stop because if Sully was hurt...

  He can’t be hurt.

  I’d rather he be a bastard who turned his back on me than hurt.

  A bastard, I could reason with. I could convince him that what we had was special and worth fighting for. A dead man, I could not.

  God, please, Sully!

  The sun slowly sank behind skyscrapers and shacks, painting the sky crimson and tangerine. The humidity was different here. Stickier and polluted. My hair was limp and stuck to my shoulders. My feet throbbed from walking so much. And my body needed liquid and nourishment.

  Plodding onward, stores shut for the day and workers conversed in happy Indonesian. A man bumped into me as he skipped from a convenience store, his hand holding a dewy, icy cola.

  My mouth instantly craved wetness.

  Stepping into the blast of air-conditioning, I beelined for the fridge, selected a sugary raspberry drink—desperate for one of Sully’s nourishing thick smoothies—and grabbed a stale chocolate croissant from the shelf.

  I hated eating these days.

  I hated how everything tasted packaged and plastic-y. I missed nuts straight off the tree and berries right off the vine.

  I didn’t just miss Sully.

  I missed his way of life, his ideology, his paradise.

  More tears sprang to my eyes, and I angrily swiped them away as I handed over money for my pathetic dinner. The shopkeeper gave me a sympathetic smile.

  I attempted to smile back, my gaze snagging on a prepaid smartphone.

  New hope sprang ridiculously savage.

  “I’ll buy one of those too, please.” Snatching the box, I asked, “Does it have internet?”

  “Yes.” The girl nodded. “Four gigabytes for one month, included in the price.”

  Shoving more money her way, I took my food and my phone and stumbled back into the muggy evening.

  I needed a bench. A park. Somewhere to sit.

  Ducking across a busy road, I followed the scent of salt.

  The sea that’d once been my prison cell but now became the guard refusing entry back to its islands.

  I’d already been down to the port this morning.

  I’d walked the
massive piers and padded over the litter-covered docks, catching the eyes of fishermen and exporters, attempting to ask them if they knew of Goddess Isles. I’d struggled with the local tongue, using Sully’s name as a talisman that could somehow teleport me back to him.

  It’d been utterly pointless.

  But at least I felt closer to Sully sitting by the ocean, even if it was polluted and brown.

  Finding a spot on a stack of shipping crates, accompanied by the pungent whiff of dead fish, I ripped at the phone box while eating my dried pastry. I followed the set-up instructions and then did something I probably should’ve done days ago.

  The guy at the hangar had said no one could find Sully without an invitation.

  Yet Drake had found him, and I doubted Sully willingly gave out his address.

  Therefore...there must be a way.

  If no one will tell me...I’ll find it myself.

  Loading Google Earth, I typed in Jakarta. From there, I zoomed out, I panned over the sea, and I began the tedious search for forty-four islands all hidden far from me.

  * * * * *

  I rubbed my tired and stinging eyes from staring at a bright screen in the dark.

  Night had fallen.

  My phone’s battery had reached critical.

  I’d tracked my way across the Pacific Ocean, Indian Ocean, and Java Sea. I’d squinted at land masses from some satellite that Google Earth used to spy on mankind, and suffered hope and disappointment, hope and disappointment, over and over again as one island was discounted, followed by another and another and another.

  No archipelagos appeared.

  No hints of coral reefs and utopian atolls.

  Just endless water, blobs of fishing boats and cruise liners, and the never-ending blockade preventing me from returning to Sully.

  Had he paid off Google Earth to hide his islands?

  Was I blind and not looking hard enough?

  Had I dreamed it all and been reduced to an insane girl sitting in the dark at a commercial port in Jakarta, reckless with her safety, stupid with her longevity, utterly obsessed with a man who’d sent her away...permanently.

  God.

  I dropped my phone into my lap and buried my face in my hands.

  This can’t be happening.

  How had my life derailed so spectacularly without my permission, and now that I wanted what I’d been given, I couldn’t damn well find it?

  How can he hide a nest of islands from everyone?