Broken Minds

by Marissa Farrar

  “What if I cooperated?” I suggested. “I’d be good as gold. I’d sit quietly and nod, and smile and not say a word.”

  “First of all, the state of your face will immediately make people suspicious. Secondly, I can’t trust you. You’ve proven that much.”

  “If you want to do this, then you’re going to have to trust me. What’s the other option—that you call this whole thing off? I think I know you well enough by now to see how that would be the very last thing you’d want to do. You said you’d been planning and working your whole life to use me to take revenge on my father, and you’re just going to give up at the first hurdle.”

  He glared at me. “You don’t know me at all. And it’s not giving up, it’s adapting.”

  “Call it whatever you want. Seems like the same thing to me.”

  He fell silent, and my pulse quickened. Was he considering my suggestion? The possibility of not only getting out of this room but also getting off the island made me lightheaded with possibility. If we were on the road, traveling, there would be other people—people I could ask for help. I didn’t want to get anyone else involved in my mess, but I would if it meant my escape. I hoped Hayden wasn’t capable of killing an innocent person if they tried to help me.

  If I was going to convince Hayden to do this, I needed to step up my acting game. I had no intention of being a pawn in his plan to kill my father, but he didn’t know that I wasn’t going to do what he wanted.

  “I hate him, you know,” I said, quietly.

  Hayden stopped dabbing my head and frowned down at me. “What?”

  “I think there’s a good chance I hate him even more than you. He was the first man I ever trusted, and he destroyed that trust in the worst possible way. He stole your family, but he stole mine, too. My mother killed herself, and as soon as my brother was old enough, he put as much distance between us as possible. I had my aunt, but things were always strained between us. She was grieving over her sister, and trying to raise two messed up kids when she never even wanted children of her own. You might not think I’m a victim, but that doesn’t change how I feel about him. I hate him just as much as you, if not more, and I’ll be happy to see him dead. If that means helping you do it, then I’m okay with that.”

  Hayden touched the bottom of my chin and lifted my face to his. My breath caught, my heart racing. For a moment, I thought he might kiss me, but instead his emerald gaze bored into mine, as though he was trying to read my mind. I felt trapped by him, and not because I was handcuffed and locked beneath his house. In that moment, even if we’d been out in the open and my hands had been free, I thought I would still be pinned by the weight of his stare.

  “You used it,” he said. His tone was soft, but it contained something dangerous approaching, like the low hum of a distant train on a track, as yet unseen, but hurtling toward the person on the rails.

  “What?” I didn’t understand.

  “You used his murders to get ahead in life. You used it to secure your university place, and you used it again during your talk to get credits. Who would you be, Jolie, if you weren’t Patrick Dorman’s daughter? Do you even know?”

  Sudden tears trembled in my eyes, and his face blurred before me. “I... I never meant for it to come across like that.”

  He released my chin. “Well, it did, and you have to live with that.”

  He finished what he was doing and picked up the pieces of bloodied tissue and the first aid box. “I’ll leave you with the ice. Keep it on your nose, and the swelling will soon go down.”

  I nodded, staring at my cuffed hands, unable to look at him as he turned and left.

  Maybe he was right. Who would I be if I wasn’t Patrick Dorman’s daughter? Who had I been before I’d found out about the murders? I wasn’t sure I even remembered anymore. I had brief memories of being happy—of vacations, birthdays, and holidays—but they were more like movie clips I’d watched of someone else. The person I’d become after the truth had come out had been wholly formed by his actions, and there was nothing I could do about that.

  Maybe my brother had done the right thing by disowning his remaining family and changing his name. If I’d done the same, instead of trying to own who I was, would none of this be happening to me now? Maybe then I’d have figured out who Jolie Dorman really was instead of allowing my father’s actions to define me.

  Maybe then Hayden Vale would never have found me.

  I’d thought I was doing the brave thing by keeping my name and speaking up about what had happened, but perhaps I’d done the opposite. Had I used it as a blanket to hide behind?

  An excuse to never have to learn who I was other than the daughter of a serial killer?

  Chapter Six

  I was starting to worry about my driver and pilot. Why hadn’t anyone gotten back to me? Had something happened? Was something wrong with the plane, or had they been pulled in for questioning about Jolie’s abduction? No, that couldn’t be right. There was nothing that would link me to the letters being sent to Patrick Dorman in prison. Unless someone had reported a suspicious package being carried onto the plane the last time it had landed. Either way, the silence from my employees was making me nervous, and I didn’t like feeling nervous.

  I disposed of the bloodied tissues and washed my hands. Gripping the edge of the sink, I exhaled a sigh and hung my head, reining in my emotions. I needed to stop thinking about Jolie for the moment and figure out what the fuck had happened to Henry and Javier. Them not returning had put a serious dent in my plans.

  Leaving the kitchen, I went into my office. No one would contact me if something happened to the plane. I made sure nothing was registered to me directly and was instead registered to an offshore company, and the police would have a hard time finding its CEO, since he only existed on paper.

  If they didn’t come back, for whatever reason, I’d need to start thinking ahead. There wasn’t time to recruit new men, which meant I had only two options. I could give up on this whole idea, or I could trust Jolie to behave and charter a new plane to take us back to the mainland.

  If I gave up on this, what the fuck would I do with Jolie? I didn’t want to have to kill her. The idea made my blood run cold. I’d always figured that once I’d killed her father, I would just hand myself in. She could tell her story, but it wouldn’t even matter by that point because I’d be going down for Patrick Dorman’s murder anyway. I held her to blame in part for my mother’s murder, but I didn’t blame her enough to want to kill her—not like how I felt about her father.

  But if I decided to call the whole thing off, and I lost the opportunity to kill her father, I couldn’t just let her go. I wasn’t going to go to prison for her abduction when I didn’t get the payoff. Maybe if I could guarantee I’d end up in the same prison as her father, so I could kill him in there, it would be worth it, but there was no way I’d be able to guarantee that happening. Plus, I figured the man would have protection from other prisoners. I wouldn’t have my money to pay people off behind bars, and he’d have made plenty of allegiances over his years inside.

  So, I could let her go and risk going to jail without achieving what I’d worked for my entire life, or I could kill her—which was unthinkable. Or else I could trust her enough to charter a new plane and get her onto the mainland.

  I knew Loretta would tell me to kill her. The woman was even tougher than I was. Losing her daughter like that had formed a shell around her heart. But I didn’t want to kill her.

  First, I needed to find out what had happened to the plane. If they were simply delayed, none of this would be an issue, and I’d be worrying about nothing, but deep down I knew it was going to be bigger than that. Why else would neither man have contacted me to tell me what was going on?

  I fired up the computer. If the plane had gone down, there was bound to be something online about it by now. Opening the online search, I typed in the make and model of the aircraft and then the previous day’s date.

  I sat back in my
chair, scrolling through the results. I spotted something, and my stomach coiled.

  Cocaine worth twenty million seized from private jet. Two men arrested...

  “What the fuck!”

  I opened the link and started to read. Though neither man were named, I was certain that was my plane. It appeared the wages I’d been paying Henry and Javier weren’t good enough for them, and on the times they’d flown without me, they’d done a quick jaunt over to Mexico and picked up a large quantity of cocaine before flying on to their destination.

  “Those sons of bitches!” I brought my fist down on my desk with a bang. One thing that pissed me off more than anything was being taken for a fool, and these two had done it in spades. Not only had they been drug running, they’d also put my own mission in jeopardy. Had they managed to send Jolie’s letter before they’d been arrested? I had my contacts inside the prison, so I’d be able to find out.

  I’d trusted both those men, and they’d been using me. I ground my teeth, holding back a growl. Would they use their knowledge of Jolie’s location to use in a plea bargain? I didn’t know if it would be enough to get either of them reduced sentences, but I clearly wasn’t able to trust them.

  It was imperative I get Jolie off this island sooner rather than later. If Henry or Javier spilled what they knew, the police would turn up, and that would be the end of this whole thing.

  Fuck!

  I put my head in my hands. This was out of my control, and I didn’t like things being out of my control.

  I thought about what Jolie had said. Could I risk taking her onto a chartered plane? Right now, I was struggling to see that I had any other option.

  Needing to clear my head, I decided to go for a swim. I was aware Jolie hadn’t had anything to eat yet today, but she was also being punished for her previous behavior. Now more than ever, I needed to make her understand that I wouldn’t tolerate her stepping out of line. She was already bruised and bloodied—though I hadn’t been the one to do that to her directly—and making her go without food would help to weaken her. She needed to see that I wasn’t someone to be messed with.

  The rain had finally stopped. I went out to the pool house to change then went to the pool. The storm had blown leaves and branches into the water, and the pool would need cleaning before I could swim in it. Normally, I’d get one of my employees to clean the pool, but I figured it would do me good to take on a bit of manual labor.

  I got to work, scooping the palm fronds out of the water and then the vacuum to clean the bottom of the pool of the dirt that had settled there. It needed new chemicals and filtering as well, but I wasn’t going to waste the time waiting for the water to be safe to swim in again. The pool wasn’t perfect, but it would do.

  I dived in and swam front crawl, trying to focus on the movement of my body through the water rather than everything else that was happening. But it was impossible. Even after swimming a punishing number of lengths, with my muscles weak from fatigue, I knew I was going to have to go and speak to Jolie. I needed to figure out if I could trust her enough to take her onto a plane where there were other people who weren’t on my payroll.

  I pulled myself out of the pool, water cascading down my body. The sun was growing in strength again, and it was almost hard to believe the weather had been as bad as it had. Heading back into the pool house, I dried off and dressed again.

  Then I took a breath, stiffening my resolve to stay emotionally detached from my captive, and took the elevator back down to her room.

  She was sitting on the bed, reading a book, as the elevator doors opened. Her eyes widened in surprise, as though she hadn’t been expecting to see me again so soon.

  “You haven’t got ice on it,” I said, nodding at her nose. Dark marks had appeared as shadows beneath her eyes, but now the blood had gone, the injuries didn’t look as bad.

  She shrugged. “It all melted. Anyway, it’s feeling better. I don’t think it’s broken.”

  “Good.” I paused and said, “I need to talk to you about what you said earlier about cooperating.”

  She put the book down and climbed off the bed. Her hands were still cuffed in front of her body, the metal clinking with her movements. “I meant it.” She stepped closer. “I’ll do anything you want me to.”

  Was I imagining the promise in her tone? “You’ll do anything I want you to?”

  Her lips parted. “Anything.”

  My cock jumped at the word. Wasn’t that what every man desired? A beautiful woman he could use in any way he craved? I knew that wasn’t what we were talking about here, but I couldn’t help my mind jumping to sex. That seemed to be all I could concentrate on when I was around her.

  But it wasn’t just about her body.

  I admired her. I admired her tenacity and her strength, and her ability to keep jumping back up, no matter what I threw at her. Many other women—men, too—would have been sobbing in a corner after everything she’d been through, but instead here she was, still fighting. Her nose was bruised across the bridge, and dark shadows marked beneath her eyes. She had the cut that I’d Steri-Stripped, and the cut across her cheek where she’d fallen on that first night was now a faint pink mark. Yet despite all these blemishes—or maybe because of them—she looked utterly beautiful to me. If anything, they only made me realize how perfect her lips were, how big her eyes. Her tiny frame made me protective of her, and I realized how fucked up it was that I’d kidnapped her, but I also wanted to shield her. It was as though I’d already made her mine, and, as with everything else in my life, I wanted to protect what was mine.

  “How can I believe you, Jolie,” I asked, “after what happened last time?”

  She moved closer still, closing the gap between us. “If there’s no plane, and no boat, how am I going to escape? This is my chance, too. I know that. I won’t do anything stupid.”

  She was so close now, I felt her body heat between us. My dick grew harder still, straining against the front of my pants, and I was sure she was aware of exactly what she did to me.

  “Please, Hayden.” She leaned in closer. “Give me a chance.”

  Her hand reached for my cock over the top of my pants, and I jumped like she’d electrocuted me.

  I grabbed her hand and shoved her away. “What the fuck are you playing at?”

  “I’m not playing at anything. I thought you wanted this. You certainly act like you want it. I see how you look at me, Hayden. Especially when I’m like this.” She lifted her hands and jangled the cuffs. “Don’t pretend it doesn’t affect you in all the right ways.”

  The worst part was that she was right. Desire coursed through my veins, hot and heavy, and the thought of taking her overtook my mind. Thinking of her was the one thing that had overridden my hatred of her father for the past ten years. And in a way, it felt good not to have to think of him anymore. To think of someone else instead. But it was a dangerous path to travel down.

  “We’ve been here before, Jolie. I’m sure we both remember how that ended up.”

  She gazed up at me with those wide, dark blue eyes, like the deepest of oceans, and I was sure I could drown in them. “This isn’t like that. How am I supposed to get one over on you when I have my hands cuffed?”

  I growled and turned away, so I didn’t have to continue to look at her. “I don’t know, but I’ve learned nothing about you is clear cut. Maybe it’s your way of getting under my skin so I’ll undo the handcuffs, and then you’ll take advantage of me.”

  She laughed at that. “You’re worried I’ll take advantage of you? You do hear yourself, don’t you?”

  I was the one who should have the power. I’d kidnapped her, and she was locked beneath my house with handcuffs around her wrists, yet somehow, she’d managed to turn things around, so I felt like the weak one. The vulnerable one.

  “And anyway,” she continued, “if you’re going to take me onto the mainland, you’re going to have to uncuff me at some point. People are going to ask questions if you don’
t. So, if it’s going to happen anyway, what would I achieve by kissing you?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what bothers me.”

  Her tone lowered, seductive. “You can’t just accept that maybe it’s because I want to? You’re an attractive man, Hayden. Rich, powerful. I’m sure I’m not the first woman to want you.”

  “These are hardly normal circumstances,” I growled.

  She shrugged. “Maybe there’s a part of me that enjoys this. Maybe I like being taken care of for once in my life. Maybe I even like the handcuffs, and how you’re always a little rough with me.”

  I stared at her, trying to figure out if she was serious. I wanted to believe her—that was the worst part.

  She stepped a little closer, her voice a purr. She lifted her hands, the cuffs jangling, and pressed her palms against my chest. “I’ll help you kill him, Hayden. I’d like to see the expression on his face when he realizes I was the one who helped. I want revenge just as much as you do—for all those murdered women and for stealing my childhood and family from me, too. We could be such a team, you and me. Just imagine it. I’ll come with you willingly, and I won’t do anything to fuck things up for you.”

  She was selling me a dream, and I was buying every word. I still wasn’t sure I believed her, but there was one way I could test her. If this wasn’t real, she would stop me. She would say no.

  Using the bulk of my body, I stepped into her, forcing her backward. Her breath caught in surprise, her breasts lifting at the action. It was enough to make a red mist settle over my vision. If she wanted to play games, then I could play them, too. And I wasn’t going to promise she would like them.

  Her back hit the wall, forcing her to a halt. I grabbed her handcuffed wrists in one hand and lifted them up and over her head, slamming them against the wall hard enough for the metal to dent the plasterboard. From the gasp she let out, I guessed it was hard enough to hurt her wrists, too. Her eyes widened at me in shock, her perfect, full lips parting.