So, in light of that, allow me a tiny threat of my own.
Come to my shores, and you will not survive.
Threaten me again, and I will track you down and ensure you cannot hurt my wife or loved ones again.
Are we clear?
You have no reason to hunt me.
And I have no desire to hurt you.
Let this be over before it even begins.
Sincerely,
Sinclair.
Pika swooped into the villa as I pressed send, his little caw a precursor before he dive-bombed my laptop and attacked the letter S. His tiny beak managed to hook beneath the plastic, almost ripping it off before I could stop him.
“Oi. Quit it.”
He just chirped and marched toward another alphabet. Almost as if he knew the bastard I’d been writing to, he eyeballed the letter Q and tore it from the keyboard.
“Hey!”
I tried to grab him as he tossed it to the floor then swooped into my hair and dangled down my forehead, his black eyes in front of mine.
“You’re a jerk.”
He bit my nose.
“You can help me kill that asshole if he dares come here.”
“Kill.” He squawked.
“Huh, new word.” I plucked him from my strands and plopped him onto the desk. If he was here, that meant Skittles and Eleanor weren’t far behind. He had a habit of flying ahead, giving me warning, making my heart glow to see her again and building impatience to be back in her company.
Unlike the other times when I waited for Eleanor to return to me, this time, I wanted her to stay away a little longer. Adrenaline still flowed brutal and blistering in my veins. I felt violent and vicious, and I didn’t want to make her worry because I doubted I’d be able to hide the reaction this Q bastard had caused.
Raking hands through my hair, I opened a new email, doing my best to change my thoughts to happier topics. I called up an address that I hadn’t had reason to message in a while. His diamonds came in regular shipments, ordered by my staff to his. It’d been a long time since he’d requested drugs to stem his condition or the one-off email from his father commanding something that would turn his empathic son into an apathic monster.
To: [email protected]
From [email protected]
Subject: A favour
Jethro,
It’s been a while.
I assume that a drug-free life is treating you well. How is your lovely Nila? We are due a catch-up, I believe.
As much as this is a social email, I also have a favour to ask.
It seems I have fallen into the same affliction as you and have the undying need to marry. However, I am lacking the required bondage.
Pika fluttered to my knuckles, balancing on the back of my hand with his tiny talons as I continued to type.
By bondage, I obviously mean a ring.
Due to an unfortunate incident, I had to use your diamonds that were stored here for other purposes.
“As bribery to stop mercenaries from fucking my goddess high on elixir.”
Pika bobbed his head as if he completely understood and could read every typed word on the screen.
I smiled and continued, grateful that my stress from Q was fading.
Can your jewellers fashion an engagement ring and wedding band? Cost is, of course, no object, and I believe a twelve carat flawless stone will suffice with multiple diamonds inlaid on the band. The only request I have is that a feather be incorporated within the design.
“Can’t exactly leave you and Skittles out of the marriage, can I?” I raised my hand and kissed Pika on the back of his head. “You get an honourable mention on the rings.”
He squeaked and head butted my chin, raising on his claws and nibbling at my lips.
“Yeah, you’re welcome.”
Dropping my hand to the keyboard again, I finished,
Is three weeks long enough?
I apologise for the rush, but it seems this hankering to make her mine won’t fade. However, you’re a married man, so I’m sure you understand.
Keep in touch, old friend.
Stay well.
Sullivan.
I pressed send just as an email appeared into my account.
Him.
With gritted teeth and hate coursing in hot waves through my chest, I opened Q’s reply.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: Bonjour
Mr. Sinclair,
I have taken the liberty of looking up the girls whose names are on file.
It seems you are telling the truth.
Eleanor Grace seems to have bewitched you as well as the man who kidnapped her. The very man whose heart I ripped from his chest—while he was still breathing I might add.
He hurt what is mine and that is never tolerated. And it seems he was biding his time to hurt what is yours. He was intrigued by her so...you’re welcome.
Understand, I will not just take your word for your mutual affection. I will require evidence that she is as in love with you as you claim to be with her. However, the details you have already shared check out.
Therefore, I will merely watch you instead of extend a visit.
If you are who you say you are, you are not my enemy.
But if you are lying, we will meet, and you will die, and the girl you claim to love will be free.
Be in touch with evidence at your earliest convenience.
Merci,
Q
Fuck him and his French arrogance.
The urge to look him up made me open a dark web search page and type in Q, France, vigilante.
“Sully? You’re still working?”
I twisted in the chair, stiffer than usual and suddenly feeling the fatigue of sitting in a chair and typing when my body was still shedding the effects of six weeks of unbroken sleep.
I’d need Arbi and Joe to carry me back to bed soon, seeing as I was still unable to walk.
I closed the lid of my laptop and held out my hand for Eleanor.
Skittles fluttered around her, flying to attack Pika as he met her in the sky. Eleanor rolled her eyes as the two caiques squabbled like children. Her hair was loose and sun-kissed. Bronze interspersed with rich chocolate, and soft waves from island heat made me desperate to fist the strands and sink inside her.
“I missed you,” I murmured, pulling her down for a kiss.
She bent and pressed her lips to mine.
Unlike our sweet kiss from the other day, I drove this one straight into sin. I opened wide, I punctured her lips, I kissed her all while surviving the need to keep her away from a threatening fucking Frenchman who dared care about her safety.
Her safety was my job.
If anyone else tried to hurt her, they would be shark food and then shit on the ocean floor—by my hand, no one else’s. Her protection wasn’t his duty or honour. It’s mine.
I bit her bottom lip, making her gasp and fold deeper over me.
I grew hard, as always, and the unbearable roadblock she’d put between us made me pull away before I climbed on feeble legs and tried to fuck her against the wall.
Breathing hard, she stumbled a little as I let her go.
I smirked. “Still think you can last until our wedding night?”
“Truthfully?” She blew hair out of her eyes. “I don’t stand a chance, not if your kiss can almost make me come.”
I dragged my eyes over her body, drinking in the shape of her, the golden skin beneath the untied cream kimono and the colour contrast of her turquoise bikini. I was jealous as well as turned-on. “Been swimming without me?”
“No.” She scooped up her hair, securing it into a messy ponytail. “It’s so hot today, I was tempted and went prepared, but...just like I’m waiting to sleep with you, I’m waiting to swim until you can join me.”
“So considerate.”
She grinned. “I aim to please.” Backing toward the bathroom, she
promised, “I’ll just shower, and then I’ll cook us a simple meal. Jess says hi, by the way. Veggie puff pastry pizzas sound okay?”
“More than okay.”
“Great.” Blowing me a kiss, she dashed into the bathroom. I waited until the sound of the shower splashing overshadowed Nirvana’s constant roar before opening my laptop again.
Jethro had replied, but I clicked on Q’s email first and prepared to respond.
To: [email protected]
From [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Bonjour
We are getting married in a few weeks.
I will send you the evidence you require.
Until then, stay the fuck away from me and my islands.
Sinclair
Cricking my neck and doing my best to eradicate the strain of dealing with a wannabe hero, I opened Jethro’s email.
To: [email protected]
From [email protected]
Subject: Re: A favour
Hello, old friend.
Consider the ring done.
I will personally oversee the creation and priority mail it as soon as it is finished.
In answer to your question, yes, my lovely wife is doing well. If you could bottle what she gives me, Sullivan, you would have yet another ground-breaking cure on your hands.
I’ve never been so fulfilled or so...calm inside.
As for your own affliction, welcome to the club. The club where you thought you were all-powerful, all-important, and all-invincible and figure out that you’re none of those things.
She is.
You are nothing without her and will spend the rest of your life happily accepting just how second-rate you are compared to her perfection.
Don’t worry, though...it’s natural to feel like a bastard who doesn’t deserve her. You might never stop feeling that way, but if she loves you, then you did something right.
And yes, a catch-up is definitely in order.
Jet
The shower turned off.
Eleanor appeared naked and dripping, wrapping a towel around her gorgeous figure.
Closing the laptop, I followed her with my eyes as she gave me a sexy smile and disappeared into my walk-in wardrobe.
Our walk-in wardrobe.
Our lives had begun blending together.
Her clothes hanging with mine.
Her toothbrush next to mine.
Her side of the bed reserved only for her.
We were entwining ourselves, carving out domestication and togetherness. Me and her against the world.
No vigilante Frenchman could stop that.
No demented brother could hurt us.
And who knew, perhaps, when I could walk again and she wore my ring, I would take her to England to meet a friend of mine. I would proudly introduce her to my singledom life and reintroduce us as a couple.
Because one thing was for sure, there was no me without her now.
Nowhere I would travel without her.
No bed I would sleep in without her by my side.
We were joined...for always.
Chapter Forty
A MONTH SINCE MY world changed all over again.
Thirty days where each morning Sully opened his eyes, grew stronger, and wrapped me in his arms at night.
It both flew by and crawled by.
Flew because Sully used every waking hour to regain his strength and mobility and crawled because every touch between us was a live wire set at a voltage determined to annihilate us.
Sleeping beside him.
Touching him.
Kissing him.
All incredible and needed after almost losing him, but I couldn’t deny that refusing sex was the hardest thing in the world.
Watching him dry off after a shower.
Seeing him grow hard just watching me.
Both of us flinching when we touched because our connection caused physical pain.
My body ached for his.
His temper spoke of his need for me.
Our self-controls were fraying.
I wanted him.
So damn much.
But I’d meant what I said a few weeks ago. I loved him too much to lose him, and I was petrified of sleeping with him because last time...
That won’t happen again.
I nodded, following my logic that the likelihood of Sully having another cardiac arrest after an orgasm were slim. Previously, he’d pushed his body to the brink and injected his veins full of poison. He’d detoxed and healed since then, yet...every time I inched toward him or buckled beneath the urge to open my legs and beg, a small panicked voice would shout in my ear.
What if?
What if he needed more time to be strong?
What if I was pushing him too much?
He already pushed for more than Louise liked. His physiotherapy usually ended with them yelling at each other.
The first day he’d stood without support, he refused to sit back down again until his legs buckled from the strain.
The first afternoon he took a step—assisted by Joe and Campbell—he refused to stop until he tripped and fell to his knees, possibly setting back his healing bones by weeks.
In the end, Louise gave up on controlling the timeline and permitted Sully to train himself. To use the weights for his arms, and the Pilate bands for his abs and quads at his discretion.
Each day, Sully broke barriers and rebuilt the muscle he’d lost.
He was so full of life now.
He smiled more than I’d ever seen.
He laughed at my stupid jokes.
His eyes glowed with less torment.
His thirty-three years had been erased and he’d transformed into a younger, less brooding man. They did say that life was put on hold while a patient lay in a coma. That no aging process occurred.
Well, Sully’s six-week sleep seemed to have stopped all clocks and reversed the strain of his prior years. I’d like to take some credit for that—for teasing his heart open to trust and filling it with affection. For showing him he didn’t need to hate himself or his kind. That it was okay to be happy when so many other creatures were not.
Talking of creatures.
Today, I had a plan and I wasn’t entirely sure how Sully would take it.
“So...I can kidnap him for the afternoon?” I asked Louise as she packed her suitcase and oversaw Joe and Steph as they dismantled the monitors and sensors, slowly restoring Sully’s villa into a home instead of a hospital ward.
“Yes. He can stand and walk a few steps—if someone is there to help bear his weight. Make him use the cane at all times, seeing as he refuses crutches. If he wants to stand for longer than a minute, position him somewhere he can either fall safely or hold on to something. Don’t stay in the sun for too long and no drinking alcohol, even though he’s no longer on antibiotics or painkillers. His system is still fragile and should be—”
“Who the fuck are you calling fragile?” Sully growled as he appeared on the threshold of the living room. One hand rested against the door jamb and the other fisted a bamboo cane with a sweeping handle in the shape of vines and palm trees. The tropical design continued halfway down the shaft, whittled with birds and flowers.
Jess and I had sketched it out a couple of weeks ago and asked one of the carpenters who was working on Euphoria’s reinvention to carve it.
Turned out, the carpenter was a woodcarver, skills passed down from generations and he’d leapt at the chance.
Sully had accepted the gift and hadn’t said a word. He didn’t need to. His eyes said everything. They touched me, kissed me, fucked me, and married me all in one grateful stare.
“What are you doing out of bed? Someone was coming to help you.” Louise stopped folding her clothes, glaring at her tetchy patient. “You’re determined to kill yourself, I swear.”
“Determined to walk, that’s all.” Sully swayed a little as his legs grew used to his weight. He’d slipped on an off-whit
e t-shirt and a pair of khaki cargos. No suits or ties. No sign of the gatekeeper of Goddess Isles. His legs had filled in thanks to his daily exercises but the discolouration of healing bones and weaker areas hinted it would take months before he could do much more than stumble.
Moving to his side, I waited until he looped his arm around my shoulders. “We’re going on a drive,” I said. “I’m your chauffeur.”
“Finally, a change of scenery.” He bent and kissed the tip of my nose. “Where are you taking me? The beach? The restaurant? Lunch with Cal and Jess?”
“We can do all that if you want, but first...there’s something I want to show you.”
* * * * *
“Are...are you going to say something?” I asked softly as I turned off the engine to the ATV and glanced at Sully.
With Joe’s and Louise’s help, we’d assisted Sully from his villa and into the ATV and we’d driven, just the two of us, down the private laneway from Nirvana, beneath sweeping palms and dense jungle to the large oasis where Euphoria was housed.
The virtual reality playground soared into the sky with its thatched roof and aura of hidden fantasies. It might look the same on the exterior but the interior was totally reformed.
Last time Sully had been here, he’d killed a few men and saved me from his brother, all while I’d been helplessly high on elixir.
His hands balled and his jaw clenched as he focused on the building and the memories. “What’s there to say? I wanted this burned down.”
I hadn’t brought him here to relive nasty pieces of our past. I’d brought him here to heal a fractured part of him that’d died on Serigala.
“I couldn’t let it burn. But...it’s not the same as it was, I promise.”
When he didn’t reply, I turned on the ATV again and drove away from the front courtyard and Euphoria’s main double door entrance, heading toward the side of the large building where open-air bathrooms had been turned into entranceways for animals of all kinds. A shower had been removed in one, and the big stone bathtub relocated in another, allowing wet areas for creatures who required access to water like the two injured otters who’d arrived three days ago.
Driving as close as I could to the villa, I once again cut off the engine and hopped from the quad. “Wait here. I’m going to get someone to help—”
“Don’t.” Sully grasped the side handle and gritted his teeth. “I can manage.”
Fifth a Fury (Goddess Isles, #5) Page 30
