Broken Minds

by Marissa Farrar

  I wanted her to know she was in the dark because it was my choice. She needed to understand that everything in her life was my choice now. I’d control what she ate, what she wore, even what fucking hours she slept if I wanted to. She was mine now, and she needed to stop fighting.

  That was the only way this was going to work.

  Toast popped up, hot and fragrant, and my stomach grumbled. I scraped the eggs onto the toast and ate while standing at the counter. Jolie would be hungry by now. She hadn’t eaten since the meal we’d shared, and her race across the island in the storm would have burned a lot of energy. That was fine. She was going to stay hungry. I was throwing my rule about offering her meals if she ate the last one out the window. I’d fed her well, and she repaid me by running. Now she could go hungry, and then hopefully she wouldn’t have the energy to try to escape again.

  I wished I could figure out a way to turn off my emotions. I’d never considered myself an emotional person before—quite the opposite. I’d believed I was cold and dead inside, but then I’d brought her into my life, and I’d discovered something human still existed inside me. I needed to turn off my guilt about knowing she was hungry and alone down there in the dark. There was nothing down there she could hurt herself with. She was dry and had clean clothing.

  If I switched on the computer and brought up the live feed, would I be able to see her? Perhaps I could bring up the lights for just a second, so I could make sure she was all right? It was my weakness edging in again, but even though I wanted to destroy her, I also wanted to protect her.

  I finished making the hot tea and added a couple of teaspoons of sugar to one of the mugs for Loretta. It was a strange change in roles, me bringing something to Loretta. I thought back and realized I hadn’t actually made her anything in the seven months she’d been working here.

  I knocked on her bedroom door and carried the tea inside the room. Everything was quiet, so I set the mug down on the nightstand.

  “Tea,” I said softly.

  I thought she was asleep again, but then she spoke. “Be careful of the girl. I see how you look at her. She’ll get into your head.”

  Her words were perilously close to what had already happened. Had I been so obvious? “It’s under control, Loretta.”

  “I mean it, Hayden. Remember who her father is.”

  She hadn’t called me sir, and a flash of irritation burned inside me. I didn’t like it when people told me what to do—especially if it involved Jolie.

  “Get some rest,” I said, managing to contain my anger.

  She sank back into the bed, and I turned and left.

  I went down to my office and slid into the chair at my desk. The drawers were still hanging open from where Jolie had yanked them open and rifled through them. A number of documents had my full name on them, so she knew what that was now. Not that it mattered. Another few days, and all of this would be over.

  I checked my cell phone for any missed calls or messages from Henry. The screen was blank. I screwed up my lips and brought my thumb to my mouth to chew on a hangnail. I should have heard something by now. The letter should have been sent, and they’d be on their way back.

  Quickly, I typed out a text message.

  Update needed. Are you scheduled to return soon?

  I needed that plane here. With the boat now drifting out to sea somewhere, that plane was my only way off the island. I didn’t want to draft anyone else in for transport—especially if I needed to move Jolie, too—and I did need to move her. I’d have to give Patrick Dorman a location he’d be able to get to, and that would involve sending him something that contained enough of a clue that he’d understand where to go.

  When he got there, I’d kill him.

  Jolie’s pull continued to work on me. I glanced down at the floor, the knowledge she was beneath my feet torturing me. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else until I made sure she was all right.

  I flicked on the computer and brought up the split screens for the tiny hidden cameras in her room. Each screen was black, but only because there was no light in the room to allow the cameras to record anything. I regretted not putting any infrared cameras down there now. At least then I’d have been able to see her moving around. But I hadn’t considered that I’d end up shutting her down there in the pitch black.

  Another couple of clicks on the mouse brought up the screen which controlled the lighting. It was on a sliding scale, so I selected the current time and used the scale to bring up the lighting a fraction. The room started to take shape on screen, and I leaned forward, frowning.

  Where was she?

  My stomach knotted. Was it possible she’d managed to escape again? The woman was like a female Houdini. But then I spotted her, in the bathroom, wedged in under the sink. She had her back pressed up against the sink stand, and her hand was cupped to her face, her knees up to her chest.

  I frowned and leaned forward. It was hard to see in the dim light, but her hands looked a different color to the rest of her skin.

  She must have noticed I’d brought the lights up, as she lifted her face.

  “Shit.”

  I sat back in my chair. What the fuck had she done to herself? Blood smeared her forehead and dripped down the lower half of her face. Red coated her fingers, and she held what I assumed was a bloodied tissue in her hand.

  How the hell had she managed that?

  I rose from my seat, automatically wanting to go down to her, but I forced myself to pause. Was this another trick of hers? Had she done this to herself deliberately to get me down there, so she could run again? But she must know now that there was nowhere she could go. It wasn’t as though she’d be able to fly the plane, even if it was here, which it wasn’t, and she’d untied the boat herself.

  Indecision tore at me. If I truly hated her, as I insisted I did, wouldn’t I be pleased to see the blood? She was clearly hurting, but instead of taking pleasure in her pain, I felt it as though it was my own.

  Slamming my fist down on the desk, I spat, “Fuck!”

  I was supposed to be breaking her, but instead I wanted to scoop her up and take care of her. I couldn’t stand to see the sight of her blood.

  I had no choice. I had to go down there.

  Jumping back to my feet, I took out the key card she’d stolen and opened the doors to the elevator. Every muscle in my body was taut with tension.

  The doors slid open, and I stepped out into her room. I glanced around for her, cautious in case this was all a ploy and she was about to shoot past me and try to escape, but there was no movement, and no sign of her in the main part of the room. I went to the bathroom, and my heart tightened as I spotted her in exactly the same position as I’d seen her on the camera, huddled up beneath the bathroom sink.

  “What the fuck have you done to yourself?”

  She looked up at the sound of my voice and tried to press herself backward, against the sink stand, though there was nowhere else she was able to go. She pressed her lips tightly together, a line appearing between her eyebrows. Immediately, blood filled the lines in her skin, so it looked like a red slash down her face.

  “Tell me, Jolie. What happened?”

  I didn’t think she was going to tell me, but then she muttered, so low I almost didn’t catch what she was saying.

  “Walked into the wall.”

  I lifted my eyebrows in disbelief. “You got yourself in that mess by walking into a wall.”

  Her gaze shot up to mine, anger flaring in her blue eyes. “I couldn’t see anything, asshole. You put me down here in the dark.”

  Guilt wound its way through me, but I pushed it away. “You know why you were in the dark. Behave yourself, and I wouldn’t be forced to punish you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “We’re back to this again, are we? You making yourself feel better by insisting all this shit you’re putting me through is my fault, and not because you chose to put me through it.”

  I pointed a finger at her. “You
started this, Jolie. Ten years ago, remember?”

  That made her shut her mouth, and she glanced away. If only she’d spoken up and not verified her mother’s lie, then my own mother would be alive today, and none of this would be happening. So, yes, this was her fault, at least in part.

  I exhaled a huff of frustration. The stab mark on my inner thigh still stung, reminding me what she was capable of and that I shouldn’t let my guard down, even with her in this mess.

  But still I put my hand out to her, offering to help her up. “Come on. You can’t stay down there like that. You need cleaning up.”

  She stared at my hand mistrustfully. “I can clean myself up.”

  “Don’t be stupid, Jolie. You’re going to need ice on that bump and you might even need stitches.”

  That got her attention. “You’d take me to a hospital?”

  “No, I’d do them myself.”

  “If you think I’d let you anywhere near me with a needle, you’re insane.”

  A chuckle escaped from between my lips. “Maybe I am. Now come on, let me help you over to the bed, and I’ll get you some ice.”

  “Are you leaving the lights on?”

  “If you do as I say and don’t cause me any more problems, then yes.”

  I could tell she still didn’t want to take my hand, and I didn’t blame her, but finally she reached out and wrapped her fingers around mine. Her skin was sticky with her blood, but strangely, I found I didn’t mind. I pulled her to her feet. My hand tightened around hers, and I didn’t want to let go.

  Loretta was right when she said I needed to be careful, but deep down I thought I might have accepted that the damage was already done.

  I helped her over to sit on the edge of the bed then went back to the bathroom to wet some clean tissue.

  “Here,” I told her, handing her the clean tissue and taking away the bloodied one. She removed her hand from her face, and I winced at the sight of her.

  “You’ve definitely given your nose a good bash.”

  She glared up at me. “I’m aware of that. It’s attached to my face.”

  Okay, I deserved that one.

  I reached out and brushed the hair from her forehead. She jerked back, sucking in air over her teeth, but she wasn’t quick enough for me not to see the cut on her forehead, right in her hairline. It wasn’t big, but it was deep. I thought the worst of the blood had come from her nose, though.

  I studied it with a frown, and she kept her hand down, allowing me to look.

  “Do you think it’s broken?” she asked, her voice muffled, like she was suffering from a bad cold. Already, blue and purple bruises were forming beneath her eyes. With a sickening sensation, I realized I wasn’t going to get away with taking her out in public any time soon. She looked like a beaten woman, even though I hadn’t been the one to do this to her. If she combined how she looked with any kind of fear in her eyes, people would get suspicious, and I couldn’t afford for someone to call the cops on me. I’d end up arrested before I even got to her father.

  I pursed my lips. “It’s too early to say yet. We’ll have to wait for the swelling to go down. I’ll go and get that ice. Stay here.”

  “Where else am I going to go?” she muttered.

  I ignored her and took the elevator back up to the kitchen. I emptied some ice into a jug then dug under the sink for where I thought I’d seen a first aid kit. I wasn’t going to attempt stitches on her forehead, but I thought there might be some Steri-Strips in there that might help.

  Quickly, I checked my phone to see if I’d heard from my driver, Henry, or my pilot, Javier, but they’d still not replied. Had something happened to them? The storm had been bad, but I’d thought they’d out-flown it. I’d been enclosed in my own little bubble here on the island, and I hadn’t thought to check any news reports.

  Pushing the thought of them out of my head for the moment, I took the ice, a towel, and first aid kit back down to Jolie. For once, she’d done as I said and was still sitting in the same spot as I’d left her. The blood flow looked as though it had stopped, and she was now using the damp tissue to wipe the dried blood from her hands.

  “Here, this will help.” I set the items down on the table. Emptying a handful of ice cubes in the towel, I wrapped them up and handed them to her. “Put that against the bridge of your nose.”

  She nodded and took the ice and did as I told her.

  “Now,” I said, “hold still.”

  Chapter Five

  Hayden Vale was right in front of me, standing over me so he could get a better look at the gash on my forehead.

  His jogging pants hung low on his hips, and as he lifted his arm to wipe away the blood around the wound, his close-fitting t-shirt rode up, exposing the tan, smooth ridges of his abs and those annoyingly hot lines right between his hips and stomach.

  Damn, what was that part of a man called? I searched my mind for the name. Something to do with Adonis, I thought, and I could see why. Perhaps they should rename them ‘girl bait’ and be done with it.

  I couldn’t believe I was even thinking about that when I was his prisoner and my nose was all banged up, but his proximity did strange things to me. His touch on my head was gentle, though I flinched with each dab of the tissue he used to wipe away the rest of the blood. Was I so starved for human contact that I’d even take this man? I had the ridiculous urge to leaned forward and press my cheek against the taut muscles of his stomach and wrap my arms around his waist. I hated that I was attracted to him, but it was hard not to be when he looked the way he did. It occurred to me that in the position we were currently in, I would only have to duck a little lower to carry on where we’d left off the previous evening. Of course, I’d struggle, what with not being able to breathe out of my nose and all.

  A strange, bunged-up snort of laughter erupted from me at the thought, and Hayden stepped back and frowned. “What was that?”

  I bit my lower lip, trying to contain my mirth. I must have hit my head harder than I’d previously thought, as I’d clearly lost my everlasting mind. I had a possible broken nose, and I was considering how hard it would be to give my kidnapper a blowjob when I couldn’t even breathe through it.

  I couldn’t look at him. “Sorry,” I manage to squeak. “Keep going.”

  He frowned at me again as though he couldn’t quite work me out, and then picked up the medical kit he’d brought down. “I’m going to put some antiseptic cream on the cut, which might sting a little, and then use some Steri-Strips to hold the wound shut, okay? It looked worse than it really is, but it’s still quite deep.”

  “Let’s hope my nose also looks worse than it really is,” I replied. My face throbbed with the rhythm of my heartbeat. I did hope it wasn’t broken, but there wasn’t much I could do about it if it was. “I assume you’re not going to take me to the Emergency Room if it is?”

  He frowned. “You know I can’t do that.” Then he paused and added, “Actually, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. Henry and Javier still haven’t returned with the plane.”

  This was new information. “They haven’t? Why not? Is the weather still bad?”

  “It might be down to that, but I would have thought they’d contact me if something had happened.”

  “Unless they’re unable to.”

  His lips twisted. “Yeah, that’s what worries me.”

  “So, we’re trapped here, on the island?”

  He lifted his dark eyebrows. “We wouldn’t be if you haven’t untied the boat.”

  Shit. This was going to be my fault again, wasn’t it? I hated his ability to twist things around so I was the one to blame, even though he was the one who’d kidnapped me. I wouldn’t even be in this situation if he hadn’t brought me here. Wasn’t that one of the telling signs of a narcissist? That they had the ability to twist everything around and make you question yourself when really it was their fault.

  “I wouldn’t have untied the boat if you hadn’t abducted me,” I snapped, not intendi
ng to let him get away with it.

  “I wouldn’t have abducted you if you hadn’t protected your fucking father and got my mother killed.”

  I gritted my teeth, scowling, clenching my fists to contain my emotions. He always had a comeback for everything.

  He used the Steri-Strips, pressing too hard, sending pain through my scalp. “Ouch.”

  “Sorry,” he said, though he didn’t sound it in the slightest.

  We fell silent as he continued to patch me up. My thoughts were a torrent.

  “Can’t you hire another boat or a plane?” I asked suddenly. “It isn’t as though you can’t afford it.”

  “It’s not the hiring of the transport that’s the problem,” he replied. “It’s the people I’d be hiring it from. I had this all planned out, and I think someone is going to get suspicious if I bring a beaten-up girl onto a plane or boat with me. It’s one thing if those people were already working for me, and I’d already vetted them and checked they knew how to keep their mouth closed, but not if it’s just some random company I’m going to be forced to find.”

  My mind whirred, wondering what this meant. If he couldn’t get off the island—or at least couldn’t get me off the island, what would he do with me? He’d have no use for me anymore. Was he capable of killing me? I wasn’t sure. He had moments of kindness—gentleness, even—like right now where he was patching me up, or when he’d brought down wine and a homecooked meal. But then he could be cold and vicious, and I was terrified of him in those moments.

  I remembered we weren’t completely alone on the island. “What about Loretta? Is she feeling well again?”

  “She’s doing better, but she’s not up and about yet.”

  “Does she have some way of organizing for us to get off the island?”

  He leaned away from me and looked at me as though I’d lost my mind. “She’s the housekeeper, Jolie. Of course she doesn’t.”

  My cheeks burned, feeling stupid. I was clutching at straws, but that was all I had. I didn’t want to die on this island. I couldn’t stand the idea of this being the last thing or place I’d ever see.