Third a Kiss Page 10

  Releasing my cock, I fisted the shirt over my heart, and confessed to them, even if I would never have the balls to confess to Eleanor. “And this…this also belongs to her. No one else, do you understand? It happened against my will. It happened despite your tricks. It’s done, and no matter your schemes, it can’t be undone, which means you’ve just signed your death warrants because how can I let you live after you tried to kill the owner of my goddamn heart?”

  It was Neptune’s turn to cry.

  Big droplets spilled from her eyes, dipping into the curve of her mouth. “We’re sorry, Sullivan. We made a mistake.”

  “You did. A huge fucking mistake.” I nodded and dropped to my knees in front of them. Calico remained in the dirt that’d become her coffin, but there were two other goddesses to end.

  “Don’t. We promise we—”

  I cut off Jupiter’s plea with a hand around her throat. Two hands curled around two necks.

  If I had another weapon, I would’ve used a different method of extermination. I was tired of such gentle homicide. A blade would be sharp and deliver a quick message. A gun would be brutal, sending them to the afterlife with a squeeze of a trigger.

  Strangulation was personal.

  Far too intimate with the way my skin glued to theirs, their pulse hammering against my fingers, their feeble attempts at freedom leaving marks upon my body.

  They both thrashed, both scratched, both tried to run, but my arms were strong from scaling waterfalls and miles of swimming. My fingers ruthless in power.

  I kept squeezing until their attempts at breathing grew weaker.

  Footsteps crashed through the jungle, trading the pristine path for unkempt undergrowth. “Sir…stop.”

  Sir.

  Cal’s insider joke.

  He liked to call me sir when he believed I needed reminding of my place as ruler. Either as a mockery because of how high and mighty I’d acted, or a slap to make me human after slipping into hell.

  I’d never liked him calling me sir. It unbalanced our friendship. But in that moment, it did exactly what he’d intended.

  It woke me up.

  It brought me back.

  I ripped my hands from the two girls just as they toppled into silence.

  Ah, shit.

  He jogged to my side as I stood up, rubbing sweaty palms on my trousers. The heat of their terror still soaked into my palms, twisting my guts.

  I’d killed women before.

  But only those who’d proved too far gone to be redeemed. Jupiter and Neptune…they weren’t evil. Just two girls who had the unfortunate fate of being sold to me.

  Cal slammed to his knees, laying both on their backs and performing CPR, going between the two. I grabbed my phone and called Dr Campbell.

  He answered on the first ring, as if he’d sensed I’d done something monstrous. “Bring four stretchers and staff. You have a few patients to attend to. We’re off the path by the main beach.”

  I hung up before he could ask questions.

  He’d give me grief about this. He might even quit, but as my eyes once again landed on Eleanor, I didn’t give a fuck.

  They deserved their lesson even if I wasn’t owed their life.

  I honoured the value of Goddess Jinx, the girl who could never know the power she held over me.

  Going to her side, I helped her into a sitting position. “You okay?”

  She groaned and rubbed her throat, swallowing a few times before croaking, “Yes, I think so.” Looking past me, she blanched. “Oh, God…Sully. What did you do?”

  I didn’t look over my shoulder at the three bodies. “They hurt you. They were punished.”

  Cold.

  Factual.

  The truth.

  Chapter Eleven

  DR CAMPBELL KEPT ME for observation for three hours.

  He flatly refused Cal and Sully to enter his surgery after he witnessed the four of us, all with fingerprints around our throats, all strangled to unconsciousness, all at the mercy of a monster.

  Only difference was, Sully had touched me with aggression in the height of lust. Our pain was mutual. Our pleasure shared.

  Unlike the three goddesses who he’d almost killed. They’d had no mutual lust; they’d felt nothing but fear.

  I knew I should feel vindicated. I should be honoured by what he’d done to extract vengeance in my honour.

  Instead, I just felt terribly sad.

  Sad for them.

  Sad for him.

  Sad for this whole messed-up island.

  “Are they okay, Doctor?” I asked quietly as Dr Campbell returned from the closed door leading to where Jupiter, Neptune, and Calico had been taken. I didn’t remember anything after I’d passed out. The next recollection I had was waking up here with a splitting headache and a very sore neck.

  He smiled gently, his weathered face crinkling behind his half-moon glasses. “How are you? That’s the answer I’m more interested in.” He came over to me, ignoring my enquiry. Taking my wrist, he counted my pulse before smiling gently. “Your vitals are good, and your tests came back clear. I’m confident you’ll be no worse for wear.”

  “And them? Will they be alright?”

  His gaze shadowed. “Maybe it’s time to send you back to your villa. You can continue recuperating in a nicer environment than a boring doctor’s surgery.”

  My temper grew a little. “Will you tell me how they are?”

  He patted my knee. “In a little while. Patient confidentiality and all.”

  His refusals made my thoughts go wild. Had Sully killed them?

  Oh, God.

  I agreed they deserved to have consequences. After all, they’d tried to kill me.

  But murder?

  It sat like a slime-covered boulder in my belly, seeping noxious worry into my blood.

  Was Sully that literal? That black and white?

  A life for a life.

  The awful part was, I already knew he was capable of such a thing. I’d sensed it the moment we met. He lived his life firmly between those two colours. There were no shades of grey to him, no leniency or second chances.

  My stomach clenched.

  I’m going to be sick.

  My body wanted to expunge the slime inside because how could I be in love with a man who could be so vicious? A man who could kill so easily that it didn’t steal a large chunk of his soul?

  I didn’t find that romantic.

  I found it barbaric and frankly…fucking terrifying.

  If he could eradicate three women who’d lived with him for years…what would he do to me if I did something he didn’t approve of?

  Was that why he was so adamant against feeling something for me? Because he knew what he was capable of? That the first sign of an argument or disagreement could result in my heart being stopped by his ruthless hand?

  I trembled in silence as Dr Campbell picked up the phone by his desk and called someone to escort me to my villa.

  For the first time, I wanted that someone to be anyone but Sully.

  I’d be fine with Arbi—the over diligent third-in-command. I’d be fine with Cal and his cool mocking stare. I’d even settle for one of the many inconspicuous guards who patrolled the shores, keeping us safe but also preventing us from swimming away.

  But of course, my wishes went unanswered.

  Ten minutes later, the door opened, and Sully appeared.

  My breath caught as the full power of his presence struck me dumb. Even with my fear of his behaviour and the residual panic of being attacked by his goddesses, I couldn’t ignore the chemistry between us.

  The undeniable, unsurpassable blistering connection.

  I’ve been sullied by Sully…in every possible way.

  Mentally, physically, emotionally.

  I’d permitted him to break me apart and make me forget who I’d been. I’d turned my back on what was right and wrong. I’d willingly relinquished my chance at escape. I sat on a gurney where I’d been treated for almo
st-death, and I still couldn’t control my stupid, skipping heart.

  What’s wrong with me?

  He stalked toward me, amplifying my shakes.

  His dark hair with its island-bronzed tips was raked back and damp—either from a swim or shower—and his skin glowed with a handsome tan. His jaw clenched as he came closer, his blue eyes turning unreadable.

  He no longer wore a suit but chose casual faded jeans and a black t-shirt, almost as if he no longer wanted to be the god-like creature he became when he wore a suit.

  He looked normal.

  He looked contrite but also fully justified.

  His hand reached to touch my cheek.

  I flinched back.

  We both froze, our eyes dancing over each other’s, shouting messages, understanding painful ramifications.

  His arm dropped, and he sighed heavily. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he didn’t speak for a moment before nodding once and striding past me to the room where three other goddesses lay.

  Was it a recovery ward or a mortuary back there? Were the girls recuperating or spread out in their corpse-shrouds?

  I waited five minutes for his return.

  When he didn’t, my curiosity overrode my concern, launching me off the gurney. My dress fluttered around my legs as I lost vision for a moment from standing too quickly.

  Apart from a bruised throat and slightly croaky voice, I suffered no long-term effects. I’d lived through worse in Mexico, and I had full intention to follow Sully through the door. To stare at the girls who’d attacked me and reap my own retribution.

  I’d use words as my weapon.

  I’d listen to their grievances.

  I’d do my best to prove I wasn’t a threat…even if they perceived me as one. I couldn’t help the bond between Sully and me—just like he couldn’t help it. But just like he fought it…I intended to do the same thing. Starting now, I would do my best to ignore the tingling awareness and heat whenever he was close because I had no intention of ending up a silly statistic.

  Not anymore.

  He hadn’t sold me to Roy Slater, so that meant he’d chosen to keep me. From now on, I would focus on serving out my four years, inching closer to my freedom, but I’d keep my heart far from his control, so I could return to reality and forget this twilight zone of callousness and crazy.

  My bare feet padded across the sterile floor, past numerous shelving and medical equipment. My hand outstretched to press the door handle, only for it to swing open, returning Sully to my side.

  I tripped backward, trying to see around him to the girls beyond.

  He closed the door too quickly, preventing me from knowing.

  “Are they okay?” I demanded, balling my hands by my sides.

  He cleared his throat. “I need to get off this fucking island.” Holding out his hand, he softened his voice. “Come with me.”

  I shook my head. “I want to know if they’re okay.”

  “Why? They tried to kill you.”

  “And you tried to kill them.” I cursed the jitters in my voice. “If that’s all that happened…it’s even. No debt. No payback. So…are they still alive?”

  He groaned under his breath, then glared at the ceiling. “Why are you so fucking perfect?”

  “Perfect?” I bared my teeth. “I’m not perfect. I want them to pay for what they did, Sully, but I don’t want them to die. All lives matter. Animal and human.”

  He swooped toward me, cupping my cheeks, his entire body trembling. He backed me into a wall, our inertia vibrating a row of shelving, making vials spill and bounce on the floor.

  I stiffened and liquefied.

  I hated and lusted.

  His fingers were pure fire. His body unequalled power.

  “I meant why are you so perfect…for me?” He bent his head, his lips grazing mine with a kiss throbbing with apology.

  It started innocent, sweet, gentle.

  It ended wet, deep and sinful as his tongue slipped into my mouth, tasting me, almost as if convincing himself that I was still alive, still real.

  I kissed him back.

  I hated that I kissed him back.

  But it was an impossibility to ignore him, to bite him, to deny this unconquerable need.

  With another swipe of his tongue, he groaned and pulled away. Dropping his touch, he left me glued to the floor with quaking knees and scrambled thoughts.

  My core clenched for him. My belly fluttered for him. And my stupid, stupid, stupid heart forgave him, thanked him, wanted, wanted, wanted him.

  In the wreckage of our kiss, he slowly raised his hand again. His brows shadowed his complicated stare, his lips moving just enough to whisper, “Come with me…please.”

  I swallowed hard, unable to transform air into proper volume. “Where?” I murmured.

  “To Lebah.”

  “What’s Lebah?” I hesitantly put my hand in his.

  His fingers curled tight, possessive but also kind. His thumb stroked my knuckles as he tugged me to the exit. “You’ll see.”

  * * * * *

  My steps faltered as Sully guided me down a different path and out to a small bamboo pier. Tied at the end was a sleek black and chrome speedboat with a silver lion cresting from a curling wave and the name Singa Laut stencilled beneath.

  I’d expected him to take me to the helipad.

  I didn’t know he had other methods of transportation.

  “Singa Laut?” I asked as Sully kept his possessive grip on my hand, tugging me toward the end of the pier. My bare feet burned a little on the hot bamboo. He wore thin black flip-flops that slapped quietly with each step.

  He glanced down, slipping a pair of mirror-lensed aviators on his nose. “It’s Indo for Sea Lion.”

  I squinted in the late afternoon sun, breathing an embarrassing sigh of relief as Sully lifted me silently into the luxury craft and immediately opened a small cupboard, gifting me a pair of sunglasses and baseball hat with a matching silver sea lion embroidered on the visor.

  I took them without speaking, gathering up my hair to poke it through the band at the back of the hat. He watched me the entire time, his attention locked on my hair as it disobeyed me, refusing to fit through the small gap.

  “Here…let me.” Slipping behind me, his fingers gathered up the length with a softness he’d never shown before, quietly and meticulously securing each strand.

  I couldn’t breathe. I suffocated as surely as if his fingers were locked around my throat.

  Each sweep of his touch, each tiny caress on my nape made me wet, made me lightheaded, and poured utmost travesty on my short-lived convictions of before.

  I was meant to guard myself against this man, yet here I was fighting every instinct not to swoon into his arms and let him do whatever the hell he wanted.

  He strangled three girls.

  He might’ve killed them.

  Chemistry or not, I could not forget nor forgive.

  With a thumping heart, I stepped forward, breaking the strings of sizzling contact and gulping down a salt-laced breath.

  He grunted painfully then moved stiffly toward the helm. Instruments and fancy monitors hinted at the exorbitant value of this boat, but Sully turned the key and fiddled with dials and buttons effortlessly, signalling he used the expensive vessel often.

  Where the hell is he taking me?

  The gentle rumble of the engine was barely noticeable as he cast off and added speed with the throttle, easing out of the small bay.

  I didn’t speak as he captained us through shallow water. I leaned over the side, marvelling at the clarity of the sea, revealing colourful coral, sparkling fish, and an inquisitive yellow and black banded sea-snake, coasting in our ripples.

  I coughed a little, still sore from what’d happened.

  Sully’s head whipped to face me.

  I waited for some aggression—some question on my health and vindication of what he’d done. Instead, he forced his shoulders to relax, deleting his tension and return
ing his attention to the horizon.

  Seemed talking wasn’t the purpose of this trip.

  Grateful for the quietness between us and the seemingly fragile truce, I followed the beautiful sea until it lapped at the shores of the island I now called home.

  I’d seen it from the sky, walked its paths, swam in its coves, but I hadn’t seen it from a distance. Hadn’t been privy to the true wonder of its existence.

  Palm trees soared in every direction, some with vines hanging from their sun-straining fronds, others heavy with coconuts. Bushes and smaller trees filled in the gaps below, a spray of yellow, white, purple, and pink flowers all enticing bees and birds to slurp up nectar and scatter pollen.

  The sand was crystal white from here, licked with glass-perfect water, while the sun dappled everything in splendour. The backdrop of the turquoise cloudless sky made it seem far too perfect to be real.

  If it wasn’t a prison…it would be a place I would never want to leave. A paradise that could never be lived upon full-time but a dream where you might be lucky enough to visit in your sleep.

  Two feathered flyers shot from the undergrowth, zooming after the boat as it picked up speed. Pika and Skittles pulled up beside us, their little bodies sleek for air travel, their eyes bright and playful.

  They kept pace, swift and darting like little dragonflies over the tide. They didn’t try to land on my offered hand or return to shore, almost as if they had fun playing chase and loving the novelty of spreading their wings and flying, instead of flitting from tree to tree.

  I was jealous of their freedom, but also mindful of their limitations.

  I didn’t want them to get tired, and I had no idea how far Sully intended to go.

  Moving toward him, balancing with the rocking of the boat, I said, “Pika and Skittles are chasing us. Do we need to turn back?”

  He turned to watch the two parrots, his lips twisting into a reserved grin. Even with a smile half-committed and extremely rare, it made him nowhere near as malicious. I could be forgiven in thinking he wasn’t a killer of women, after all.

  “They can come. Pika often comes with me to Lebah. It’s not far. They can land in the boat if they get tired.”