Mermen

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  The room filled with roars and cheering. Get up, Roen. Get the foke up. Shoving aside his screaming pain, Roen staggered to his feet and braced his hands on his knees.

  Lyle threw out his arms and shook his head. “The landlover wants more, gentlemen,” he bellowed. “Shall I give it to him?”

  The men cheered with raised fists.

  “As you wish!” Lyle yelled with a gloating smile.

  Roen managed to stand straight just as Lyle rushed forward. With one hand, Lyle slammed him against the wall by the neck while delivering a blow to his stomach. Pain shot through every inch of Roen’s body, and he slid down to the floor, unable to breathe.

  As Roen lay there in a daze, his mind shuffled through random memories—being hit over and over again by the guys in the group home, kicking in his nose. The boys at his school near Glasgow when he was nine, throwing rocks at him in retribution for what his father had done to their families’ fishing boats. Sunken. Still, those bumps and bruises were nothing compared to what they’d done to Lyle. No eight-year-old should have to pay for his father’s sins, but Lyle paid. He’d spent fourteen weeks in the hospital having his face reconstructed and healing from the cuts all over his body. Was that enough to get his father to stop?

  No. It was just the beginning. It fueled his father’s hatred and justified hurting more people.

  But that was the past, and this was a fight Roen couldn’t lose. Whatever choices Lyle had made, whatever had been done to him, he was no longer the same person. Then there was Liv. Innocent in all this.

  Accept the island. Accept, and you’ll win. Roen’s mind jolted. He didn’t know where the thought originated, but it didn’t matter. He did not want to die. He did not want to let them take Liv.

  Accept the island. Accept, and you’ll win, the voice repeated.

  I accept. Roen then noticed a cool trickle of water running over his lips, which were partially pressed to the floor. He swallowed and gulped, every drop strengthening him, healing him.

  “Get up, landlover! Come, take your throne,” Lyle yelled, his laughter filling the room.

  Roen slowly pushed himself to his hands and knees. He could hear the heavy footsteps approaching, see that leg pulling back, readying to deliver a blow. Roen reached out and grabbed Lyle’s foot, twisting with so much force, he felt the ankle snap like a branch. A loud cry echoed through the cavernous room as Lyle crashed to the floor.

  Roen leaped on top of him and began punching Lyle in the face. With each strike of his fist, more and more blood poured from Lyle’s nose, fueling Roen’s rage. “Are you laughing now? Think you can break someone like me?” Roen cocked his fist, ready to strike the fatal blow to Lyle’s throat and crush his windpipe.

  Lyle looked into his eyes. “Dorans can’t be broken.”

  That was what Roen used to tell Lyle every goddamned day: “They can’t break you, Lyle. Because no one can break a Doran’s spirit. It’s stronger than any fist,” he’d say.

  What the hell am I doing? The urge to kill Lyle was overwhelming, like some sort of primal craving.

  “Don’t make me do this,” Roen seethed.

  The men around him began chanting, “Kill him. Kill him.”

  “Do it,” Lyle said.

  Roen raised his fist higher and looked into his brother’s eyes. They hadn’t changed. Same color—green with a ring of amber flecks in the middle, just like his.

  Foke. I can’t.

  Roen dropped his fist. “The island told me to let you live if you surrender.”

  Lyle stared blankly. “The rules state that one must die.”

  Roen shrugged. “Who am I to question the island? It says it’s not done with you yet.” He honestly couldn’t understand how anyone would buy his reasoning, but they were all mad. They might believe anything.

  “Do you surrender?” Roen yelled. Please, Lyle. Don’t make me kill you.

  Lyle slowly nodded and held up his hands. “I surrender, as the island wills it to be.”

  Roen dropped his fist and hopped up, his eyes sweeping the room. The faces of the large, savage men were that of utter disbelief. Roen immediately understood that he’d just won the battle, but not the war. He’d need to establish his authority or else he’d find himself being dragged outside and slaughtered.

  This is no different from the dozens of hostile takeovers you’ve orchestrated. Once the leader was out, people needed to understand their lives were hitched to a new wagon. Of course, his wagon usually wore a suit and tie, not a scrap of red cloth around his waist. Not to mention, in this case, speeches or memos wouldn’t do. Roen would have to make an example of someone.

  Roen looked around the room and spotted the largest man, who happened to be the same guy with long dark hair that had nearly killed him earlier that day. “You. What’s your name again?”

  “Shane,” he replied.

  “Shane, apologize to the lady for your behavior earlier, and then get her the foke out of that cage.”

  Shane didn’t move.

  “Do it,” Roen commanded in a final warning, hoping his bluff wouldn’t be called, but there it was. No other choice. “Or better yet, don’t. Because I’d love nothing more than to kill you. And for the record, the island has not instructed me to spare you. You are not my brother. Not until you prove yourself.”

  With a stiff spine, the man walked to the cage and looked down at Liv. “I apologize for the way I treated you earlier,” he said between gritted teeth.

  Liv, who looked like she might faint and was at the end of her mental ropes, didn’t say a word.

  “Good,” Roen said. “Now let her out and get inside the cage. You’ll stay there until I say so.”

  Shane glanced at one of the men, who scrambled over and handed him a key. He opened the cage, and Liv cautiously moved around him. Shane got inside, hunching to make himself fit.

  Roen walked over and took Liv’s hand, stopping to address the room. “This woman is mine. Anyone so much as lays a damned finger on her, they’ll die.”

  No one made eye contact.

  Roen then pointed to Lyle. “I’ll be back later, and then you and I are going to talk. As for the rest of you, get your asses back to…whatever it is you do around here.”

  He strode from the room as quickly as his feet could carry him, with Liv in tow.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Roen? Where the hell are we going?” Liv’s breath steamed into the cold night air as she tried to keep up. He moved so fast with his long legs that she had to do double time. Despite feeling better, she still wasn’t at one hundred percent. More like sixty.

  “As far away as we can get from those men,” he said.

  “I can’t believe that just happened. Who the hell was that guy, Roen?”

  “My brother.”

  “How did he end up here?” she asked, assuming that perhaps this was what Roen had come here looking for.

  “I don’t know.” He continued marching at a vigorous pace.

  “Roen, stop for a second and talk to me.”

  “We need to keep moving.”

  Well, she needed to make sure her head didn’t explode. What happened back there was…was…chaos! Roen is the leader of an island full of woman killers.

  “Roen,” she argued, “you said there’s nowhere to run—your ship is gone. So where are we going?”

  “I already told you. Away from them.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her along.

  She tried to take her hand back, but he tightened his grip, nearly crushing her bones. “Stop! You’re hurting me.”

  Roen did stop. “Sorry. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I think I’m losing my mind.”

  Except for a haze of moonlight filtering through the tree canopy, there wasn’t much light. But what Liv saw of his face was absolute turmoil.

  “Roen, what’s going on with you?” she whispered. Yeah, she knew everything was in a state of pandemonium, but she could see there was something else.

  “I don’t know.
”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Why do you care, Ms. Stratton?”

  She wanted to punch him. “Did you just call me ‘Ms.’? Like we’re in a business meeting? Uh-uh. I think we’re past the formal stage.” The guy had just laid his life on the line for her.

  “Foke.” He gripped the sides of his head. “I need to get you off this island.”

  “Correction—we need to get off this island.” She grabbed one of his arms and instantly noticed how hot he felt. “What did they do to you?”

  “I don’t know. I think it’s that damned water.”

  “How much did you drink?”

  “Enough.”

  Okay. That was not good. “How do you feel?” she asked, her teeth beginning to chatter. With every passing moment, the air became colder and colder. All she had on was a glorified bed sheet.

  He blew out a steaming breath. “I’ve been better.”

  “But you’re okay. I mean, you’re still you?”

  “Who the hell else would I be?” he snapped.

  Yep. Bigger and sexier—if that’s even possible—but still an ass. It was a relief. On the other hand, she was genuinely worried about him. He’d taken not just one, but two beatings for her.

  “What you did back there was—” All right. There are no words. “Thank you, Roen. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t pulled that stunt, but… What the hell were you thinking?” she yelled, the emotional safety valve blowing clean off. “I mean… Goddammit, Roen! You could’ve been killed. And for what? For me? Did you ever consider that I wouldn’t want to live if it was at your expense? Did you?”

  “You’re welcome,” he retorted. “But I didn’t do it for you.”

  “Then for who?”

  Suddenly, Roen grabbed her upper arms and slammed her against a thick tree. His mouth was on her, his hard body pinning her every curve against him.

  Liv felt too shocked to do anything but stand there stiff as a board. Roen was equally stiff, but below the waist. His lips smashed into hers, his tongue forcefully delved into her mouth, and he ground himself against her. Liv’s mind went into panic mode, wondering if this wasn’t truly Roen, but some reaction—perhaps to the fight and elevated testosterone, to the situation, to the water. Not that the “why” mattered. Because when his hands slid down the sides of her body, raking over her breasts as he went to cup her ass, Liv realized how badly she’d been wanting this. Maybe from the first moment she’d laid eyes on him. No, she didn’t want him to stop. She wanted him to touch her. She wanted to lose herself in him, to bathe her senses in every inch of his hard body.

  She turned her head to free her mouth, and he turned his attention to her neck—kissing, sucking, scraping with his teeth.

  “God, you feel so good,” she panted. And his smell… It was like heaven—sweet and spicy, calming yet stimulating.

  “I want to fuck you, Liv,” he said, in a carnal, gravelly tone, lifting her up as if she weighed nothing.

  “Roen…” Her voice trailed off into a soft moan as Roen ground his rigid shaft between her legs, igniting a sinful heat that crippled all rational thought. Suddenly there was just her and him and that erotic ache deep inside, pulsing and throbbing, begging for him to penetrate her.

  She dug her nails into the hard, straining muscles of his shoulders, wincing with sinful pleasure each time he crushed his large cock against her. His hands moved beneath the fabric of her makeshift dress and began sliding it up. “You want me to fuck you. Isn’t that right, Liv?”

  Roen sliding inside her, fucking her hard, and coming between her thighs was the only thing she wanted. What’s happening to me? It wasn’t like her to want something like that—so reckless. But she did. Perhaps the island was changing her, too.

  “Yes,” she panted. And when she thought about the way he’d fearlessly stood up to those crazy men to save her, it only made her want him more. The man was a complete enigma and sexy as hell.

  Kissing her neck, he reached between them and tugged at the red cloth around his waist to free his erection. “You’re mine. I fought for you. You’re mine.”

  “Yes.” She turned her head into his neck, feverishly kissing and licking him back. She couldn’t get enough of his touch and skin and smell. “Yes, I’m yours.” She tightened the grip with her legs around his waist, ready for his hard thrust.

  “That’s right. Mine.” Gripping himself in his hand, he positioned his shaft at her entrance and made a few teasing circles with the head before testing her readiness with a shallow thrust.

  Liv gasped. Even with just the tip, Liv felt her body struggling to accept the thickness. And then she felt something else: his teeth.

  Roen bit down on her shoulder, and she screamed. Roen released her and stumbled back.

  “What the hell was that?” She felt like she’d been splashed with a bucket of ice-cold water. And though it was dark and she couldn’t clearly see his face, she knew his expression was the same as hers.

  “Why did you bite me?” she raged.

  A silent moment passed. “I don’t know,” he said with a shaken voice, “but you have to get out of here. You have to get away from me.”

  Something strange was happening to him—to them both, perhaps. Yet, he was still her only lifeline, and he was too good of a person to be left to these sea-wolves. “I’m not leaving you.”

  “I’m infected, Liv. Whatever they have, it’s in me now.” Roen dipped down and grabbed his…whatever the hell they called their little man-skirts.

  “Then we need to get you to a hospital.” The water had to contain some sort of neurotoxin. Or maybe it was a new PCP-like narcotic that gave a person superhuman strength.

  “Liv, you’ve seen the men on this island. You’ve seen what that water does. There are no drugs that heal people from broken bones in a matter of minutes. Whatever that crap is, it’s changing me. I’m getting you the hell out of here. Away from me. Away from them.”

  This was all her fault. He probably could’ve left the island if it weren’t for her. But instead, Roen stepped in to help her—three times. And now the man was their damned leader. Leader! How the hell did this happen?

  She moved and stood directly in front of him, trying to see his face and hoping he could see the look on hers. “I told you; I’m not leaving you with these animals.”

  “You can send help once you’re somewhere safe.”

  “Roen, no—”

  “I’m not asking,” he said in a cold, deep voice. “It’s a matter of time before I end up like Lyle—brainwashed and violent.”

  “You mean your brother?”

  “My dead brother. Somehow he ended up here. Alive, twelve inches taller, and a hundred pounds heavier.”

  “He died?” she asked, hoping to hell that Roen didn’t mean he died for real. That would be a whole other kind of crazy. Seriously, seriously, bad-scary crazy.

  “Apparently not.”

  Oh, thank God.

  “Maybe he can help us, Roen. He can tell us how to get home.”

  “Are you hearing yourself? You just said our best hope is my brother—a person who has been leading these deranged thugs for God only knows how long and just tried to kill me.”

  “I don’t see a better option, do you?” she said.

  “No.” He shot out a frustrated sigh. “I actually don’t. But I’m going to see him alone.”

  Liv gripped his arm. “Uh-uh. We stick together.”

  “I can’t have you around a pack of crazy arses who think they’re part fish. I can’t risk anyone hurting you.”

  “Then you and I feel the same; neither wants to see the other hurt.”

  And there it was: that…something. That invisible force that bonded two people. It was like gravity, holding one object to another. But in the case of people, there were no mathematical formulas to explain the ties that formed between them. Parents and children. Brothers and sisters. Friends and lovers. It was real. It could make or break a person. It
could bring a profound sense of joy and fulfillment or leave a person devastated when lost. Yet there was no tangible, scientific proof to support the physical existence of these connections. Yes, people understood the emotional impact when a bond with another person formed or broke. But it escaped her how something so important and central to every human being on the planet couldn’t be seen. Something connected people. Something real. And it allowed them to form these powerful attachments. So powerful that one might give their life for the other. And now one of those bonds had formed with Roen—a man she met less than a day ago. She felt like she might never breathe again if she lost him.

  The two stared at each other for several long moments, unable to truly see one another, but Liv had the distinct impression that Roen struggled with the same inexplicable emotions.

  “You have no idea what I’m feeling,” he said bitterly, responding to her last comment.

  “Try explaining it, then.”

  “I can’t. I simply know I can no longer be trusted around you. The things I just felt—they were not the thoughts of a sane man. They were not…me.”

  “That’s ridiculous, Roen. You’re letting this place get to you.”

  “No!” he burst out, reaching for her shoulders to give her a good shake. “I won’t. Go to fucking hell.”

  Huh? It took a moment to get past the shock of this incredibly strong man painfully gripping her shoulders, to realize that Roen was not talking to her.

  “Roen. Stop!”

  He released her and once again gripped the sides of his head, groaning. “I won’t do it!” he yelled.

  Ohmygod. She needed to get him to a doctor. Maybe that water was poison. But then again, she’d had the same water, and she wasn’t hearing voices.

  “Roen, take a deep breath.” She reached for his shoulders to comfort him.

  He ground out his words. “You have to go, Liv.”

  “You’re a good man,” she said softly, “and just like I don’t deserve to be left here; you don’t deserve that either. We. Are in this. Together.”