“Dad, I know I literally just called, but I have to go.”
“So soon? But I want to know how your travels are. Where are you? What have you been up to?”
I swallowed against the truth, rolling my eyes at the absurdity.
Well, Dad, I was sold by traffickers who didn’t deliver my note like they promised. I fell in love with a man who rented my body to men your age, and now I’m about to lose my mind if I can’t find my way back to him immediately.
His world had stayed mundane while mine had strayed into magic.
I no longer belonged to him as his daughter.
I belonged to Sully as his...
Wife?
Goddess?
Friend.
“I love you, Dad. I’ll call again soon. I promise.”
“I love you too, Ellie Pie. Always will.” A smile sounded in the silence before he gruffed, “Just tell me where you are, so I don’t worry.”
“I’m in Indonesia.”
Privacy over Sully’s and my unethical romance made me stay quiet on details but instinct overrode it. Previously, I’d vanished without a trace and had no way home. If I allowed that to happen again, I was the biggest idiot in history.
My father was my insurance policy.
He was common-sense and safety.
“I’ve been staying on a group of islands called Goddess Isles. They’re owned by a man named Sullivan Sinclair. He owns a pharmaceutical company called Sinclair and Sinclair Group. If I...go missing for any reason. Please start there. I can’t give you an exact location but tell the embassy or call the local police if you don’t hear from me in a week or so, okay?”
“Ellie, what the hell—”
“Tell Mum that I’m okay. I’ll call again soon!”
I hung up, my heart racing and mouth dry.
Oh, my God.
What did I just do?
You were smart and told someone where you’ll be. It’s wise, Ellie.
A fist knocked on my door, announcing my breakfast had arrived.
Wise...but reckless.
My father might bring more nightmares Sully’s way.
If he reads the articles I just read?
I swallowed hard.
Oh, God.
A knock sounded again. “Room service.”
I shoved aside my nerves of my father researching Sully’s indiscretions and stood to answer the door.
I knew the truth about Sully, and I wouldn’t let anyone change my mind.
I would eat.
I would hunt.
I would not give up until I found him.
Don’t die, Sully...please, please don’t die.
Chapter Fifteen
HER LIPS LANDED ON mine—sweet with strawberry, sinful with lust.
I groaned and slipped my fingers into her long, delicious hair.
I loved her hair.
I loved her lips.
I loved her.
“I love you, Jinx.” I fed my admission into her mouth, loving the way she gasped and shivered. I ached with the need to fill her. To cement how I felt about her with a physical bond as well as an emotional one.
“Come here.” Plucking her from the sand where we lay watching the sunset, I rolled her on top of me. My fingers tugged at the bows of her bikini, removing the scraps of material hiding her perfect breasts and pussy.
She arched as I ran my nails down her back, grabbing fistfuls of her ass.
“Fuck, Sully.” She tumbled onto my chest, letting me spread her cheeks, graphic and erotic, rocking her wetness against the straining erection between my legs.
She moaned, jerking as I drove up, hitting her clit.
“Put me inside you.” I nipped at her ear, my balls tight and ready to fuck.
She shivered again as she reached between us, her delicate hand wrapping fierce and unforgiving around me.
I loved the way she touched me.
Firm and possessive.
Bold and sexy.
We hid nothing from each other. We didn’t pretend we weren’t obsessed. We didn’t fake our mutual desire.
I growled as the first wet kiss of her pussy welcomed my tip.
She cried out as I pushed her down my length, stretching her, taking her.
My islands were no longer my paradise...she was.
She was everything I wanted and more.
A dream come to life.
A manifestation come true.
A girl I couldn’t live without.
I thrust up and—
My eyes flew wide.
White haze and metallic fuzz on my tongue.
Throbbing heat in every limb.
A lacerating burn in my right thigh.
What the fuck?
Blinking, I tried to make sense of the scrambled existence of my mind.
It came to me in pieces.
Nightmarish pieces I couldn’t compute.
Skittles dead in the sand.
My brother beneath me.
A harpoon within me.
Cal dying on my beach.
Corpses of my guards and the shitty situation of failure.
I groaned as a fresh wave of agony crippled me.
Handcuffs spread my arms as if I was on some sinner’s cross, shackling me to metal bars. A cage surrounded me, biting into my back, consuming me like a python.
My heart shed off its sick sedation, granting me fury and fight.
I jerked against the handcuffs, jangling them nosily against steel. My ears rang as the noise vibrated around the villa.
A villa I recognised.
The one where disobedient goddesses spent a night or two.
I winced as yet another flare of agony crushed me, recognising with horrifying clarity that I was in Ace’s old cage. The chimpanzee who I’d put to sleep after a life of misery. However, instead of standing tall and offering no place to stretch out, the cage had been placed on its side, trapping me while letting me lay horizontally on its painful bars.
I fought harder, clanking the handcuffs again. I flinched as a warning pain in the back of my hand ignited. A needle fed into my vein, fed by a tube, hooked up to an intravenous bag of liquid outside the cage.
The world spun.
The urge to vomit rose.
I gritted my teeth and looked down my body.
I still wore my black boxer-briefs and had been covered with a white sheet that’d fallen between my legs as I’d struggled. Tugging my right leg free from the sheet, the urge to vomit doubled.
A huge bandage wrapped around the meaty part of my leg. A bloom of red glowed in the centre. My skin around the bandage was a vicious scarlet, along with the rest of my leg down to my toes.
An infection had set in.
Wincing against the bite of metal beneath my back, I gritted my teeth, forcing my brain that couldn’t quite shed off the sickening haze to work and work fast.
I’m alive.
I’m sick and wounded.
I’m in a goddamn monkey cage.
My nostrils flared as I kicked my legs, trying to scoot into a sitting position.
Pain.
Motherfucking debilitating pain.
Sweat broke out over my chest, granting the uncomfortable tangle of hot and cold from fever.
A phantom kiss pressed on my lips—residue from my dream.
Eleanor.
Christ...had Drake chased after her?
How long had I been out?
Was she home yet?
Balling my hands, I jerked against the handcuffs. I needed to check. To ensure her safety all while mine hung in Drake’s psychotic whims.
“I wouldn’t keep moving so much if I were you. Your body underwent extreme trauma.”
My head shot sideways, my gaze seeking the shadows.
Pure hate flared as Dr Jim fucking Campbell moved from the gloom toward me. He wore his usual cargo shorts and polo—a doctor enjoying his retirement instead of a highly paid surgeon.
I snarled, jumping to conclusions bu
t instinctually knowing they were right.
Dr Campbell wasn’t a prisoner of my brother.
He didn’t jump when a guard entered.
He didn’t cower as he came closer.
He moved with the acceptance of a man who’d become a goddamn traitor.
“You.” I lay at his feet, chained and caged like a criminal. “You’re the snitch.” The handcuffs chewed into my wrists as I fought to wring his neck. “I should’ve fucking guessed.”
He waited for my initial fury to pass, narrowing his eyes as I flushed with yet more sweat and slumped with hotter agony. Pushing his glasses up his nose, he did his best to plaster professional coolness on his face, all while guilt glowed in his watery eyes.
“Hated me that much, huh?” I bared my teeth. “Seemed even your obscene salary couldn’t buy your loyalty.”
He cleared his throat, rocking on the balls of his feet. “I don’t hate you, Mr. Sinclair.”
“You’re fired.”
He nodded with a grim smile. “I understand. However, you might want me to stay on for a few more days...for your own sake.”
“I’ll kill you the moment I get out of here.” I rattled the handcuffs again, gritting my teeth against the metallic twang and the steady throb in my leg. The pain receptors over my entire body fought for recognition. Contusions glowed on my chest from fists. A small hematoma had formed around my left knee, courtesy of a kick, and blood spread in an ever-extending rose beneath the bandage around my leg.
My threat was fucking laughable.
Even if I wasn’t imprisoned and trapped, I doubted I’d be a successful killer.
Dr Campbell pointed at my minced leg. “I removed the spear, sterilised the injury, checked that your thigh bone hasn’t been compromised, stitched up muscle and flesh, and administered a strong round of antibiotics. Your system is robust from your active lifestyle and healthy diet. However, you’re still fighting a fever caused by the infection from seawater and unsanitary metal.” He swallowed, slipping into his medical role. “A wound such as the one you sustained can turn fatal if not carefully tended. I also suggest you restrict moving due to the swelling on your knee, bruised ribs, and possible concussion. You need to rest given that your...accommodations are not ideal. I did try to suggest you would recover faster in a bed, but Drake was insistent.”
I glowered at him as if my eyes could reach through the bars and kill him on my behalf. “You have the gall to stand there and pretend you’ve done me a goddamn favour by stitching me back together? That I’m happy I’m alive after hundreds of animals were blown to fucking bits by my brother? That I’m grateful knowing Eleanor is unprotected and at Drake’s fucking mercy?” My fury exploded. “You’re the reason forty guards are dead, Campbell! You’re the reason Skittles is dead. You’re the fucking reason Calvin is—”
“Cal is alive.” He held up his hand, stress etching his mouth. “I give you my word, Sinclair, Calvin Moor still breathes.”
“You’re lying.” I froze, my chest pumping. “I saw him on the beach. His heart was giving out.”
“He sustained two gunshots to his torso. One nicked his stomach and the other punctured his lung, but I was able to stabilise his condition.” He looked over his shoulder at the guard posted by the door. “He’s in my surgery. Along with...” He lowered his voice. “Your caique, the female...I scooped her from the beach when Drake summoned me to attend you. Her wing is fractured, but she’s alive. She is recovering in secrecy beside Cal.”
Thank fuck.
“And Pika?”
“Haven’t seen him.”
Shit, he better be alive.
Skittles was alive.
Cal was alive.
As much as I hated this bastard, he’d kept two of the most important things in my world breathing.
Eleanor would never have to know I’d been the reason Skittles almost died. I wouldn’t have to live the rest of my life with Cal’s ghost judging my every action.
I ground my teeth, cursing the weight of thankfulness as it slithered beneath my hate. “What do you want? A fucking thank you? They’re hurt because of you. My islands have been infiltrated because of you. Eleanor and my goddesses are in danger because of you!”
He flinched, clasping his hands in front of him. “I owe you an apology, Sinclair. You’re quite right that I now have to live with the knowledge that I am the reason so many guards—men who I knew on a first-name basis—are dead. However...” His jaw clenched. “I am not responsible for your goddesses being in danger. That’s entirely on you.”
“What?” The cage swam as I thrashed to get free. “You fucking hypocrite. You called my brother to kill me, and you stand there thinking my girls’ lives are better off? How stupid do you have to be?”
Acid splashed up my throat.
Greyness feathered over my vision.
My leg switched from throbbing to beating like a war drum.
Do. Not. Pass. Out.
Goddammit!
I blinked, shaking my head and willing my heart to stop racing.
The doctor squatted to his haunches, his voice low and hushed. “Keep your voice down. The longer they think you’re incapacitated, the more time you have to recover.” He sighed. “In full disclosure, I patched Drake up too. The stab wound in his shoulder was shallow. The strangulation effects minor. A few stitches where you grazed him with a bullet. However, your punches did some damage. Regardless of your condition, Sinclair, you almost killed him three nights ago with your bare hands—”
“Three nights ago?” I groaned as adrenaline made me sick. “Three fucking days?”
“You were in surgery for a long time. Your body needed time to heal. Once you’ve eaten something solid, you’ll regain your strength—”
“What sort of sick game are you playing?” I snarled. “Do you really think my life hasn’t been drastically shortened thanks to your snitching? You betray me, yet you fix me. You welcome my worst enemy, and you fix him too. You have the fucking balls to tell me Cal and Skittles will survive, all while you condemn the lives of innocent women? Do you honestly think Drake will free them? Is that what this is about? You think he’ll act merciful and stop my sexual trading? Bullshit! He’s already enslaved them to a nightmare. He’ll rape them until they beg to die. You just sentenced them to hell, Campbell—”
“You shattered the voice box of Calico and almost killed Neptune and Jupiter! That was my last straw, Sinclair! I’m a doctor. I swore an oath to protect and nurture, not repair what you break. And I didn’t call him, alright?!” He flinched, lowering his temper. “Well, not directly. A coup was not my intention.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” I stiffened, ignoring the hiss of guilt for what I’d done to three goddesses who’d tried to murder the only girl who mattered to me.
He looked at the ground, genuine contrition on his face. “I only ever wanted to protect the girls you so callously turn into desperate whores. You’ve gone too far.”
My hands curled, the handcuffs jangling. “You, as well as anyone, know how well they are treated. You’re the head of their medical care, for fuck’s sake. They’re healthy and happy—”
“Healthy is debatable, and they’re definitely not happy.”
“Depends who you ask.”
He scowled, a flicker of loathing on his face. “I have asked, and I don’t like their responses. That’s why I called your company. I told Peter Beck that elixir is far too potent. Long-term use is showing massive adverse reactions on the nervous system. I suppose Drake overheard somehow or got a hold of phone records. Who knows? But he contacted me and sounded legitimately concerned. I wasn’t aware of the, eh...feud between you. My judgment of the matter was compromised because of my building worry over the girls. They’re all suffering the same symptoms.”
“What fucking symptoms? They’re fine—”
“Heart palpitations, increased resting BPM, chemical stress, insomnia, anxiety.”
“And you’re blaming that on elixir? S
ymptoms that could be caused from anything.”
“I’m telling you my hypothesis on a drug that hasn’t been strictly monitored or tested that is now revealing severe side effects. Someone is going to die from it, Sinclair. Mark my words.”
Metal bars bit into my back, driving my pain to a distracting level. I needed to sit up. I needed drugs to numb the agony so I could think straight.
Forcing my voice not to crack with discomfort, I hissed, “Let’s ignore the fact that you went behind my back, enlisted the help of a psychopath instead of coming to me with your issues, and dumped us all in a clusterfuck that will only end with me dead and the goddesses that you’re so concerned about being molested and left in far worse condition than I currently keep them in, and focus on a key couple of things.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Okay...”
“Where is Drake right now?”
“He’s completing the final sweep of the villas, looking for the goddesses you evacuated.”
“Did you tell him where they are?”
“Of course not.” He wrinkled his nose. “My duty is to them. I did this for them. I enlisted the help of a bastard all because Blossom, Sailor, and Jealousy won’t last much longer if you continue—”
“What about Jealousy?” My heart rate increased, making the cage swim again.
If Jealousy betrayed me too, I honestly didn’t know how I’d react. She’d been the closest thing I had to a female friend before Eleanor arrived. If she’d turned around and stabbed me in the back, then trust would be severely scrutinised for being the worst possible thing in the human psyche.
“Jealousy has been suffering the most.” Dr. Campbell’s face tightened. “She stayed quiet about the side effects. I only found out because she fainted in Divinity a few weeks ago, and I was called to attend. Her pulse, Sinclair, was two-hundred and thirty. That’s excessively high. Two forty is usually the max before serious complications occur. Her heart palpitations took three hours to subside, despite the use of beta blockers and blood thinners. I fear she’ll have a stroke. Elixir has scrambled her usual chemical pathways. Her nervous system is haywire—”
“If this is so serious, why didn’t you come to me sooner?” My breathing turned shallow. “You know enough about me to know that I would’ve done something to help.”
“I have tried to make you see sense, Sinclair. I warned you elixir was too strong.”
Fourth a Lie (Goddess Isles, #4) Page 11
