Fourth a Lie (GODDESS ISLES Book 4)

by Pepper Winters

  Chapter Nineteen

  “SIR.”

  I groaned.

  Pain tried to shove me back under, but familiarity forced me awake.

  Cal.

  Cal was here, and his sarcastic ‘sirs’ had to be reprimanded. There were only so many passes I’d give him. Otherwise, he’d start thinking he could force his opinion on me all the damn time.

  “Sir...she’s arrived.”

  I battled past the agony that’d become a cloying blanket. I groaned again as I stupidly tried to move. The daggers in my shoulders from being handcuffed, the stabs in my legs from being tied, the thousand metallic bites along my back from the cage, and the feverish infection in my leg.

  It all pushed me down, down, down.

  She’s arrived...

  Fuck!

  My eyes shot wide. My lips inhaled a torn breath. Aliveness crippled me as my heart did its best to cleave its way from my chest and charge to wherever she was.

  She...

  She’s arrived.

  Eleanor.

  FUCK!

  I jack-knifed, clanging my handcuffs against wire, bellowing as my wrists began to bleed all over again from struggling to get free.

  For hours, I’d been Drake’s plaything.

  All night, he’d kept me in the excruciating role as his own personal guinea pig.

  Around dawn, my system had given out, and I’d fallen unconscious. I’d been glad. Thankful to no longer feel the agony of my chest where he’d burned away the top layer of skin with his acid in my Euphoria oil. Grateful to no longer have to smell the stench of the nasal deceptor smeared beneath my nose, replacing my serum with a putrid form of bleach and sewer, making me gag until my ribs threatened to crack, one by one.

  I’d managed to survive everything he did to me.

  I even bared my teeth and promised him a slow death as a mercenary shoved finger sensors onto my every digit, replacing my flesh-approved adhesive with finishing nails.

  As each nail dug into my fingers and more blood dripped, Drake grew drunk on his power over me.

  I was his lab rat.

  I had better endurance than a mouse.

  I had a greater body area than a chimp.

  He drove me to my breaking point, all while I saw past his pompous power.

  He might laugh as his minions drew my blood and turned me into a grotesque experiment, but his debonair attitude and psychotic glee couldn’t hide the truth blazing bright between us.

  When I’d felt it, I’d laughed.

  I’d choked on spit and coughed on agony, but I’d laughed because I finally understood why he’d been such a cunt all my life. Why he bound my legs and arms, threw me in a cage, and let others torture me instead of doing it himself. Why he was here, stealing my shit, believing he could take everything I held dear.

  Drake Sinclair might be the older brother.

  But he was fucking terrified of me.

  Afraid of his baby brother, trapped in a cage, and driven to insanity by pain.

  I saw it in his eyes as he commanded poison to be poured down my throat that’d made me vomit until my guts churned in absolute misery.

  I heard it in his voice as he’d ordered earplugs that’d been soaked in chilli to be driven into my ears, firing agonising pathways into my brain.

  And once I saw it, our dynamic changed.

  He might be the one in charge. He might kill me before I ever saw the sun again...but thanks to his fear of me, I was the one with all the power. I was the one who would survive because I was the stronger one, the worthy one, the invincible one.

  So...I’d clenched my teeth and taken it.

  I’d withheld any sound of discomfort until the final experiment.

  He’d put the lenses in last.

  He’d chuckled as three guards held me down and a fourth placed a tampered lens over my pupil.

  I’d howled.

  I couldn’t help it.

  A harpoon to the leg was nothing, fucking nothing, compared to the convulsive crucifixion of what he’d done to my eyes.

  “Like what I’ve done with the formula?” he’d snickered, yelling over the din of my handcuffs clanging, the cage groaning, and my motherfucking howl.

  One lens was enough to break my brain, but when his men put in the second, I lost it.

  I didn’t remember what I was, where I was, why this was happening.

  I couldn’t rub them, remove them, couldn’t cry.

  I’d passed out in a body slam of suffering only to blink now and...

  See nothing.

  Fuck!

  “I didn’t hear the boat pull up.” Drake’s voice sounded to my left, slightly raised to combat the rain pounding on the villa roof.

  I blinked back blackness.

  I strained to see colour, shapes, life.

  I couldn’t see a fucking thing.

  No light.

  No shadows.

  No hint of cages or paradise.

  Nothing.

  I teetered on the precipice of giving in to the horror and the stubbornness of not accepting such a disability.

  It can’t be permanent.

  I balled my hands, feverish sweat covering me head to toe as a mercenary said, “She must’ve swum ashore. We caught her trying to swim away.” The man’s voice curved with a smug smile. A smile that was visible in my mind. A smile that brought disaster and death right to my stupid, pointless heart. “She’s feisty. Put up a fight but hasn’t said a damn word.”

  My mind flooded with images of a girl who’d stood up to me from the very first moment I’d met her. The trafficked slave who’d stared at me like a priceless fucking queen.

  Christ, Eleanor!

  Run away, Eleanor!

  What the fuck are you thinking, Eleanor?

  I struggled in my binds, claustrophobic and driven to madness. My eyes burned, remaining as sightless and as useless as the rest of me.

  “How do you know she swam ashore?” Drake asked.

  “Just a guess, but she’s wet, so I’m guessing she swam from somewhere. Then again, it is pissing down out there.”

  “She’s wet, huh?” Drake’s disgusting chuckle made violent rage burn through me.

  Fuck him.

  Fuck ALL of them.

  “So her ride kicked her overboard, or did she jump?”

  “How the hell am I supposed to know?” a mercenary grumbled. “I don’t know the logistics, Sinclair, only that she’s here.”

  She was supposed to be safe.

  She was supposed to stay away.

  She was supposed to fucking run!

  A grunt fell from my control, making Drake chuckle as his footsteps came closer. “Hear that, Sullivan? I think we have a visitor.” He rattled the bars of my prison, sending sound waves through my chilli-blocked ears and making my body flinch.

  Everything was more intense without sight.

  My body scrambled and instincts a mess.

  The rustling of his clothing as he squatted by my head made me twitch. I could no longer tense before a blow or prepare for a strike. I couldn’t see what the hell would happen.

  He had me at my most vulnerable, and he fucking knew it.

  He tapped my cheek, making me recoil and blink agonising blind eyes. “Do you want to say hi, baby brother? Think she’ll find you a fucking turn-on in your current broken condition?”

  I bared my teeth. “Touch her and I’ll rip your cock off with my bare hands.”

  “Promises, promises.” He patted the top of my head. “Tell you what, I’ll go welcome her. You’re in no fit state for company, and you need your beauty rest.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, ensuring it slithered through my skull and made me snarl. “I’ll be gracious...I promise.”

  I struggled in my cuffs and rope, activating bruises and blood, agony and torment. “I’ll give you the goddamn elixir recipe. I’ll sign whatever you want.”

  “Maybe later, Sullivan. Right now, I have a date.”

  The sound of his s
hoes was the worst goddamn thing I’d ever heard.

  The slam of the door closing was the guillotine on the end of my life.

  Eleanor...

  Run!

  Chapter Twenty

  THE THUNDERSTORM CEASED ITS downpour just as Drake Sinclair appeared at the top of the beach. Raindrops transformed to a gentle drizzle, clouds switched to grey, and muggy humidity sprang back into existence.

  I’d tried to escape, but the guard who was holding me outweighed me and outpowered me ten to one. I struggled again, wriggling and furious, as Drake walked down the beach toward me, flanked by two men in matching black combat uniforms.

  For a millisecond, my heart was confused.

  The way he moved reminded me of Sully. The svelte prowl, the masculine stride. But that was where the similarities ended. Both had dark, thick hair, but Drake kept his trimmed to his skull while Sully’s was untamed with bronze tips. Drake’s eyes were blue but not ravishing sapphires like Sully’s...more like a murky puddle. Sully’s lips were full and shapely, a sinful mouth that made cursing decadent and kisses depraved, while Drake’s were thin and permanently pursed as if he’d smelled something offensive.

  The more I studied him, the more I saw differences instead of family resemblances. Sully had a natural weathering around his eyes, granting him a distinguished sex appeal. His nose was straighter, his cheekbones sharper, and his five o’clock shadow etched his jaw with delicious danger.

  Drake, on the other hand, looked...strange.

  His forehead didn’t hold laugh or frown lines. His eyes stretched with no wrinkles. The skin around his lips and down his neck shone from cosmetic enhancement.

  Sully looked thirty-three. He embraced every bit of his age, and it made him undeniably attractive. Drake had attempted to harness aging and reverse time, and instead, he’d made himself a caricature. An evil villain who played his part far too well.

  “Hello, Eleanor Grace. What a pleasure to finally meet you.” Drake bowed and narrowed his eyes at the man holding me. The guy released me, shoving me at Drake.

  I stumbled and bared my teeth, recoiling from his body before touching him.

  His hand lashed out, catching my wrist, bringing my knuckles to his lips and kissing them as if this was some rehearsed tea party. “I see why my baby brother has fallen madly in love with you.” His gaze travelled over my figure, highly visible thanks to my dress plastering itself to my curves. “Nice tits, nice hips, and I’ve heard you know how to beg for cock.” He chuckled. “A perfect woman.”

  God, the urge to scream at him became almost unbearable, but just like the traffickers in Mexico, this man was nothing to me. He was chewing gum under a table, a cigarette butt in the gutter. He was utter trash, and I wouldn’t waste one damn word on him.

  His eyebrows flared toward his trimmed hairline as his fingers released me. “Shark got your tongue, Eleanor Grace?”

  I bit my tongue for good measure.

  “Or do you prefer Jinx?” He licked his lips, reaching out to cup my breast.

  I was free.

  I had no shackles or binds.

  I could shove his touch away and run.

  But that would trigger predatory instincts for him to chase. That would end with me pressed against a palm tree and raped. Instead, I chose to stand up to the monster trying to intimidate me with pure, infuriating silence.

  Sully was the only one who’d shattered my temper. He was the only one deserving of my voice. He was worthy, unlike this lacklustre imposter—this shameful older brother who thought he could invade and pillage with no consequences.

  His hand squeezed my breast painfully. “I don’t like being ignored, girl.”

  Inhaling hard, I gritted my teeth with no reply.

  “Shy?” He grinned, pinching my nipple, then frowning when I reacted with absolute zero fucks. “That’ll change when I feed you elixir.”

  I stiffened.

  Did he know where Sully kept the vials?

  Did he have some in his possession?

  I swallowed hard, terror siphoning through my blood at the thought of being drugged and fucked by him. To violently hate him all while he violently raped me.

  No.

  Hell no.

  “That got a reaction.” Drake’s muddy blue eyes twinkled with violence similar to the violence I’d seen in Sully. Only, Sully wielded his like a sharp-edged sword, hidden in a scabbard and only swung with utmost precision when necessary. Drake, on the other hand, used it like a club, bashing around like an ignoramus.

  “Fancy sleeping with the better version of the Sinclair brothers? I promise you, I’m a better lay than Sullivan.” He stepped into me, shoving his thigh between my legs. My sodden dress acted as a chastity belt, refusing to part enough for him to drive his crotch into mine.

  I tipped my head, arching my chin.

  Sully...

  I needed to figure out how to get away from this asshole and find Sully before he made good on his threat.

  Dropping his hand from my breast, Drake scowled. “You’re not at all what I expected. Frankly, you’re boring me, and I’m not a nice guy when I’m bored.”

  I narrowed my gaze until my eyelashes shadowed my vision. I hoped hate dripped from every inch of me. I hoped disgust and repulsion cloaked me, so he knew just how much contempt I held for him, how little cooperation he’d earn, and how quickly I’d kill him if I got the chance.

  With my stare so sharp, I noticed things I hadn’t before, and a small sweep of victory tugged up the corner of my mouth.

  Drake’s face wasn’t as Botox perfect as I’d assumed.

  His nose was swollen and coloured with a shade of purple, black bruises ringed his left eye, and the corner of his mouth was puffy. Come to think of it, he moved stiffly, guarding his side while a bandage on his shoulder peeked out from his black t-shirt.

  Sully had hurt him.

  Triumph filled my heart. Pride followed.

  Whatever this bastard had done to Sully...Sully had fought back.

  Fear iced my blood.

  Had he fought too hard?

  Was he still alive?

  Sully...dammit.

  My patience reached snapping point. My lips trembled to part with a torrent of profanity, but I bit them back.

  Drake’s only purpose was to take me to Sully.

  That was all I wanted.

  Then he could die, painfully. Very, very painfully.

  “Did you appreciate my lift?” Drake smirked.

  I glowered.

  “Aren’t you going to say thank you? Without me, you wouldn’t have found your way back.”

  I glared.

  “I bet you’ll speak to me when I shove my dick inside you.”

  I bared my teeth.

  He chuckled with an edge of frustration. “Don’t want to talk to me? Fine.” He smiled, cold and cruel. “I know someone who would love to talk to you.” Leaning forward, he planted his hands on my hipbones, dragging me flush against him. “I must warn you though...he’s not the man you remember. I gave him a little lesson on sibling insubordination.”

  What the fuck did you do?!

  I swallowed back my scream, but I couldn’t control my physical reaction.

  My hand whistled through the air and sliced across his cheek.

  He stumbled backward; his pain tenfold thanks to previous injuries beneath my new one. “Fuck!”

  While he nursed the handprint I’d left on his bruised face, I held up a one finger salute.

  How dare you!

  How fucking dare you hurt him!

  My silent curses ricocheted in my ears, and once again, I went too far—just as I’d pushed the limits with the Mexican guard who’d wanted me.

  Drake launched himself at me. “You little slut!”

  He wrapped his arms with tight captivity around me as his teeth latched around my throat. He bit me. He made me struggle. And his disgusting voice slithered into my ear. “Be as stubborn as you want. Be as stupid as you need. Piss
me off, I dare you. Fuck me off, and you’ll be screaming my name while I’m cock deep inside you. Hate me? I don’t fucking care. Thanks to my brother, he’s created a drug that makes you a whore, and according to his doctor, your heart has the risk of being overloaded, your system overwhelmed, and there’s a very high chance you could die while I take you.”

  Dragging his tongue up my cheek, he hissed, “I like the thought of that. That I could fuck you to death. That I’d be the last one you saw, heard, touched. That you’d die belonging to me, not him. And the best part...I’ll make him watch. He’ll be there as I fuck you. He’ll watch it all, knowing that you are mine and not his.”

  Wrapping his awful arm around my waist, he kissed me.

  I bit him.

  Hard.

  I bit him for disrespecting me and for disrespecting Sully.

  I’d bite his cock too if he ever tried to sleep with me.

  I’d bite his balls clean off and spit them into the sea.

  He lurched back.

  His palm connected with my cheek in a five-finger blaze.

  His finger went to his lip, smearing the bead of blood that my teeth had punctured.

  His eyes met mine.

  My cheek smarted.

  I balled my hands and kept my spine rigid.

  I couldn’t bite my tongue any longer.

  I’d reached the end of my limit.

  Don’t do it, Eleanor.

  Don’t give him what he wants.

  I’d been able to ignore the traffickers.

  But I hadn’t been able to ignore Sully.

  And I couldn’t stop myself from defending him.

  Looking straight into the eyes of Sully’s cad of a brother, I snarled, “Is that meant to scare me? Am I supposed to tremble and obey?” My nose stabbed the sky with regality. “How can I be afraid of a stupid boy who thinks tearing the wings off butterflies makes him strong? A boy who never grew up; an idiot who thinks Botox will hide his ugliness.”

  He froze, dropping his hand and rubbing his blood into his skin. “She speaks.”

  “She bites, too.”

  “She behaves if she wants to stay alive.” Grinning as if our threats were flirts, he wrapped his fingers around my throat. He squeezed my larynx, activating bruises from Calico’s attempt at murdering me, and the strangest, scariest thing happened.