Island Refuge EMP Box Set | Books 1-3

by Hamilton, Grace

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Elna’s father said. “Where in the hell did you come from?”

  His eyes finally locked onto Selene. She had been slowly backing away, Sniffy raging inside the cage of her arms. And Elna understood.

  This is the source of her fear and anxiety. Whoever he is, whatever he’s done, he’s a threat to her.

  “There you are,” he said, in a strained, scratchy voice. “You’re coming with me, Selene. I’m done playing your games. Do you hear me? We’re going back home, and that’s final. Now, don’t fight me on this!”

  With that, he lunged at her, shouldering his way past Malin. Elna’s father stood directly in Dominic’s path, and he planted his hands on his hips and gave the stranger a look that dared him to approach. But Dominic didn’t even seem to notice him. He barreled right into Pop, drove him back, then pushed him to one side. Elna’s father hit the back of the couch and fell.

  “Hey, man, not cool,” Malin said.

  Selene continued her backward shuffle, the soles of her Birkenstocks squeaking on the wet wood as she headed for the dark hallway. “Leave me alone, Dominic,” Selene cried, tears glinting in her eyes. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

  Norman rose from the couch but seemed unsure of what to do. Joe and Rita hugged each other and cowered.

  “No, you’re not supposed to be here,” Dominic said, “and I’m bringing you back. I told you we belong together, and you agreed. You agreed, Selene. Stop playing mind games with me and let’s go. Right now. Right now! Do you hear me?”

  Fortunately, Malin was quicker to react, moving to intercept the stranger as he ran toward Selene and a frantic, thrashing Sniffy. He caught the stranger around the midsection and shoved him against the wall, knocking the decorative vase off its table. Candle flames in the wall sconces above danced madly.

  “Get off me,” Dominic said, driving his elbow into Malin’s face. “This has nothing to do with you. Mind your own business!”

  Grabbing at his cheek, Malin backed away, but then Garret came running around the front of the couch. His face was even redder than usual, slick with a mix of sweat and rain. Clenching both fists, he stepped in between Selene and Dominic.

  “Okay, bro, you’re getting it now,” Garret said, shaking out his fists as if priming them. “I’m going to tenderize your ugly mug for you. How does that sound?”

  Dominic pushed off the wall and rose, lifting his own fists. “This isn’t about you, meathead. Stop trying to act tough. You sound ridiculous. This is a private affair between me and my girl, so get out of my way and let me handle it.”

  “I’m making it about me. Got it?”

  Garret threw a punch, and it was immediately clear to Elna that he had no idea what he was doing. Despite being beefy and thick-limbed, his punch was all wrong. He didn’t put his weight into it, didn’t swing his hips to add force to the blow. His wrist was bent. Elna’s self-defense instructor in college would have chewed him up and spit him out for his bad form.

  Dominic was able to backpedal and avoid a direct hit. Instead, Garret’s knuckles glanced off his shoulder. In backing away, however, Dominic’s foot slipped in a puddle, and he went down on one knee. Even so, he threw a counterpunch, hitting Garret solidly in the side.

  “Get out of my way, I said. Stop meddling in my business!”

  Garret threw a ridiculous swing that brought his right fist up and over. He managed to hit Dominic on the arm, but then his hand kept going and smacked into the wall. Malin had recovered by then, and he rushed in from the side. Dominic saw him coming, picked up the milk glass vase that had fallen nearby, and flung it at him. Malin swung his arm to block it, and the vase broke against his wrist. When he turned his head to avoid the big pieces, Dominic reached out and shoved him with both hands. Malin slipped and fell on his rump in a puddle.

  Oh gosh, none of these guys can fight, Elna thought, as Dominic stood up. I guess I’d better help.

  Dominic was just about to punch Garret again when she ran up behind him, grabbed a fold of his shirt, and hooked her right foot around his shin. She pulled backward, twisting at the hip, and yanked the stranger off his feet. It was a judo move she hadn’t used since her self-defense class, but it worked. Dominic landed on one of the plywood sheets, did an awkward backward somersault, and slammed into the window frame with a grunt of pain.

  “Where’d you come from?” he said, grimacing.

  He quickly got to his feet again, and Elna braced herself for a charge. But a hand grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her backward.

  “He’s a big ole boy,” Garret said, moving in front of her. “Better stay out of this and let us handle it.”

  Dominic rose, but Garret brought a hand out from behind his back. Somewhere in the madness, he had picked up a hammer, and he raised it above his head.

  “I’ll crack your skull,” he said, looming over Dominic. “I’m not playing with you, dude.”

  Malin moved up beside him. He had a big cut on his arm—no doubt caused by the vase—and blood ran down and dripped off his knuckles. Though Elna had seen what poor fighters they were, she had to admit they made an intimidating pair when they stood side by side like that, all rain-drenched and ragged. Dominic stared at them.

  “This has nothing to do with either of you,” he said. “I’m here for Selene. We’ll work this out between the two of us.”

  “Well, you’re not getting to Selene,” Malin said. His hair was a bigger mess than ever, though, in a strange way, Elna thought it looked better when it was in disarray. “Sorry, man. I hate to be the bearer of bad news.”

  Elna glanced over her shoulder and saw Selene fading into the dark hallway, though a frantic Sniffy continued to give her position away with his shrill barking. When she turned back around, her father stepped in front of her. He had disappeared at some point during the fight, and now he reappeared clutching an enormous scythe. Elna knew the tool—she’d used it often to chop weeds and wild grass—but the fact that he was wielding it now as a weapon was so absurd that she laughed.

  “Oh, what are you gonna do with that, old man?” Dominic said.

  Though the big, curved blade looked fierce, Elna knew darn well that the size of the thing made it practically useless in a close fight.

  “Don’t move,” her father said, turning the blade so that it was pointed at the stranger.

  Instead of heeding his words, Dominic lashed out with one booted foot, kicking Elna’s father squarely in the gut. George went flying backward, dropping the scythe in the process. Malin and Garret caught him, and in the chaos Dominic turned and lunged back through the broken window. Elna ran after him, reaching, and just managed to snag the heel of one of his Doc Martens.

  The rain made the rubber sole slick as melting ice, and he slipped out of her grasp as he pulled himself through the window. She made another grab for him, but he kicked off the outer wall and disappeared into the rain. Elna started to follow him, poking her head through the broken window and getting a full blast of cold rain in her eyes.

  “Don’t do it,” her father cried. “It’s not safe out there. Let him go!”

  She drew back into the house, wiped the water out of her eyes, and rose.

  “Board up the window,” her father said. “Board it up real good this time. I’ll go around and lock all the doors.”

  Elna thought she caught a final glimpse of Dominic, a shadow disappearing into the impenetrable gray as he ran across the parking lot.

  How in the heck did he get on the island? Who is this lunatic?

  She’d used almost every towel in the kitchen and main guest bathroom, and even then, Elna couldn’t quite soak up all the water that had pooled on the lobby floor. Malin, Garret, and Norman boarded up the broken window, double-layering the plywood and using quite a few more nails than before. As they did that, Elna’s father went around the guesthouse and set the deadbolt on every door. There wasn’t enough plywood to cover every window in the building, but at least the
y would hear the glass breaking if Dominic tried to get in.

  Once they were done, Elna went to the fireplace and relit the fire. Joe and Rita Dulles had held each other through the entire ordeal, and she heard them whispering comforting words. She envied them the companionship. It must’ve been nice. Once the fire was crackling again, she sat on the floor and let the heat begin to dry her soaked clothing.

  “I’m sorry,” Selene said, creeping out of the dark hallway. Her dog had finally settled down, but the poor thing was panting. “I never meant to cause trouble for everyone.” Her eyes were red from crying.

  Elna patted the floor beside her, and Selene approached, sitting cross-legged before the fire. Red light glinted off her teeth as she grimaced.

  “Who is he?” Elna asked.

  Selene glanced at her, eyes wide and flashing with fear. No, not fear—terror. “Dominic is my ex-husband. I’ve tried to get away from him. I’ve tried and tried, but somehow he always finds me. I wish he would just move on, but he won’t, he can’t. He’s crazy.”

  “Clearly,” Elna replied.

  “He was so cruel to me,” she said softly. “It started in little ways right after we began dating, but he just got worse and worse over time. By the time I realized what he was really like, I didn’t know how to get out of it.” A tear trickled down her cheek, and she quickly brushed it away. “He’s so manipulative, always getting me to say things and then using the words against me.”

  “Does he hit you?” Elna asked.

  Selene didn’t answer right away. “He knows how to cause pain without leaving bruises that other people can see. Every time he hurts me, he cries and promises never to do it again, and then he does it again. If anything, he gets worse. I’m so tired.” He pulled Sniffy in close and buried her cheek against the dog’s furry back. “Tell me, Elna. Have you ever dated a bad guy?”

  Elna considered. A face came to her then, out of the murky depths of her past. A handsome face but stern, hard, severe. “My ex-boyfriend wasn’t bad, really,” she said, “just unpleasant. We started dating in college. In the beginning, I kind of liked his stoic nature, though, in retrospect, I don’t know why. I thought he was brooding, but he was actually cold. He never hit me or anything. Rod Smith. I haven’t thought of him lately, but he was a character. Military type, you know?”

  Selene nodded. “Dominic is not military. He’s an ex-con, but he didn’t tell me that until after we started dating. He used to be a tweaker, but he got sober a few years ago. You’d think that would make him a better person, but it didn’t. I have a restraining order against him in Placer County, but it’s just a worthless piece of paper. He stalks me anyway, and what can I do? I can’t call law enforcement and ask them to come to the island.”

  Someone cleared his throat behind them. Elna looked up and saw Garret standing in front of the couch, arms crossed over his chest. Rain was still dripping off his chin and the tips of his hair.

  “If you knew he was stalking you, you should have been more careful,” he said. He’d gone a bit hoarse during the fight. “You should have worked harder to cover your tracks. I mean, look at this mess, lady.” He gestured at the pile of wet towels in the corner, at the trash can full of broken glass. “And it could’ve been a lot worse. Seriously, take some responsibility for yourself. If he’s a threat, deal with it. Deal with the problem, so you don’t put other people in danger.”

  “Chill out,” Malin said, moving up beside him. He’d wrapped a towel around his right forearm and tied it in place, but blood was already seeping through the damp cloth. Elna was afraid the wound might be more serious than he was letting on. “For real, Garret, are you blaming the victim? That dude is a maniac. You saw it yourself.”

  Garret waved him off. “I said what I said. She needs to hear it. You’re only a victim if you allow yourself to be.”

  Elna bit back a harsh response. Why get into it with Garret? Instead, she reached over and patted Selene on the back.

  “I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with this,” she said. “What does he want from you? I wonder if he knows he’s stranded on this island like the rest of us.”

  “I don’t know,” Selene said, bowing her head. “I never really understood what he wanted from me. Just…control, I guess. He always promises he won’t hurt me, but then he hurts me. I’m afraid of what he’ll do next.”

  “We’ll be ready for him,” Garret said. “Believe me. The next time I see that guy, he’s going to be sorry we ever crossed paths.”

  “I wish you were right,” Selene said with a sigh, “but I know him too well. He’s never sorry about anything.”

  8

  “Okay, I think I need some painkillers now,” Malin said. He’d been pacing for almost a full hour, clutching his bandaged right arm. “The arm is really starting to hurt like crazy.”

  Elna had been considering broaching the subject. Quite a bit of blood had soaked through the towel. In the aftermath of Dominic’s invasion, everyone had grown tense and quiet. Selene was still sitting in front of the fire, endlessly petting Sniffy. The Dulleses wouldn’t let go of each other on the couch. Elna’s father and Norman were hunting around on the floor for small pieces of glass after one had lodged itself in George’s shoe.

  “Follow me,” Elna said, standing and beckoning Malin. “We’d better take a look at your wound.”

  She grabbed a large flashlight off the mantel and led him down the hall to the guest bathroom. It was a large, comfortable room with brass and wood accents everywhere. The flashlight beam glinted off a dozen polished surfaces. She set the flashlight on a shelf near the sink and opened a cabinet above the toilet, pulling out a plastic first aid kit.

  “I think the adrenaline was still pumping for a while,” Malin said, working at the knot in the towel. “I didn’t notice the pain.”

  He couldn’t get the knot undone with one hand, so Elna helped. When she pulled the towel away, she saw that his arm was soaked with blood and rainwater. She wiped it away with a clean corner of the towel, revealing the wound. It was worse than she’d expected, so bad, in fact, that she gasped.

  “What? What do you see?” Malin had turned his head, as if he couldn’t bear the sight. “Is it terrible?”

  The gash ran along the back of his forearm, starting near the wrist and running in a straight line toward his elbow. It was almost six inches long, and it looked deep. Elna could see a hint of fat and meat. Malin tried to pull his arm away, as if afraid she might touch the wound, and she grabbed his wrist.

  “Hold still,” she said. “I had no idea it was like this. Oh, gosh…” She groaned, her stomach turning.

  How do I even treat such a wound?

  She led Malin over to the padded toilet seat, had him sit down, then gently laid his arm on the edge of the sink. He still wouldn’t look at the wound. Elna opened the first aid kit and began rooting through the supplies.

  “Okay, this is going to sting,” she said, pulling out a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide. “Probably a lot.”

  As she twisted off the cap, she heard a footstep in the doorway and a gentle voice said, “You have to stitch the wound. It won’t heal right if you don’t.”

  Selene stood in the doorway. She had actually dared to set her dog down, and Sniffy was curled up on the floor in the hallway, exhausted.

  “Right there,” Selene said, pointing to a curved needle and surgical thread tucked into a corner of the first aid kit.

  “Honestly, I’ve never stitched a wound before,” Elna said.

  “I have,” Selene said. “I’ll do it.”

  Elna stepped back and motioned Selene to take her place.

  “Can you get me a few things from the kitchen?” Selene said, squirting disinfectant into her hand.

  “What do you need?”

  “Turmeric powder, ginger, clove, onion, coconut oil,” she said. “If you’ve got them. And bring something to slice or grate the onion and ginger.”

  “I believe we’ve got most of those,” Elna
said. “Not sure about coconut oil.”

  “Are we making dinner?” Malin said, laughing awkwardly. Then he made the mistake of looking at the wound and he swooned, his head tipping back and hitting the bottom edge of the cabinet.

  “Stay awake for me, sir,” Selene said. “Take deep breaths. I’m not making dinner. I’m going to make an herbal poultice after I stitch this up. It’ll help the wound heal.”

  Elna went to the kitchen to retrieve the items, and as she was rooting around in the pantry she heard Malin groan loudly, then suck in his breath, then cuss loudly, and finally apologize. It took a while to find everything Selene wanted.

  Turmeric has some healthy qualities, she thought. I get that, but onion, clove, ginger? Isn’t it a bit medieval?

  With the lack of a doctor on the island, she decided to defer to Selene’s treatment. As long as they disinfected the wound, the poultice couldn’t hurt, could it? By the time she returned to the restroom, the cut was stitched.

  “She’s a pro at this,” Malin said, though he looked like he was on the verge of fainting.

  “I’ve treated many injuries,” Selene replied. “It’s one of the things I do for a living, but I’ve also treated my own injuries many, many times.”

  The casual tone of Selene’s comment made Elna wince.

  “Can you take over while I prepare the poultice?” Selene asked, pulling her ponytail tighter and adjusting her scrunchie.

  “Sure.”

  As Selene cleared some space on a shelf, Elna cleaned Malin’s arm, washing off all the blood and gently drying it. Now that the stitching was done, Malin was a model patient, sitting still and smiling at her, doing whatever was asked of him. The scent of chopped onions and garlic filled the bathroom.

  “That’s making me hungry,” Malin said. “Too bad you’re smearing it on my arm.”