Page 37 of Married to My Grumpy Minotaur Boss

A hulky troll crew member comes out of the cabin, holding another satchel. He swings it around his rocky head and flings it toward me. I grab it, stepping back a step with the force of the throw. Trust a troll.

“That’s it? We’re throwing you some supplies and see you later?” I’m not impressed.

The troll shrugs. “We’ll be back again as soon as we can to get you off the island.”

They don’t waste time hanging around either.

The crew retreat to hunker down in the cabin. The captain revs the engine and the boat turns in the choppy waves, speeding back toward Northpoint Island.

I look around at Justine. Her usually flushed face has gone very white. Swallowing my anger, I soften my tone. “Are you OK?”

She nods. Then her lip wobbles, giving her away.

I sigh. “It’s annoying, but we’ll be fine. We can head back to lover’s cabin back there and we’ll have a roof over our heads and there was a bed. I won’t even fight you for this one.” Damn thing’s probably moldy, but at least that gets a smile from Justine.

She lets out a little whimper when she tries to turn and walk on her injured ankle. Quickly, I hoist the extra satchel onto my back and stoop to pick her up again. Hardly a sacrifice. “Come on, Traffic Lights. Let’s get that foot up. Hopefully, there’s a first aid pack and we can bind it. I should have done that before. I’m sorry.”

At this she blinks up at me. “You’re not mad?”

I step over a large rock in our path. “I am mad, but I’m not mad at you.”

“Even though I probably slowed us down and we might have made the pickup if I’d been quicker?”

I shake my head. “They should never have dropped us off. I should have learned by now that people are always intimidated into doing things when I demand them and sometimes that doesn’t lead to good outcomes.”

She flushes and looks away.

She doesn’t say it. She wouldn’t. That’s the whole point. She’s not wrong that I intimidated her into doing this with me. It’s arealization that’s been creeping up on me for some time. One I feel a hell of a lot more guilty about right now that we’re in this predicament.

Bull headed. Stubborn. I’m all the cliches. Every bad quality you ever heard about minotaurs—I’ve got it.

By the time I’ve carried Justine back to the cabin, dusk has set in and it’s growing dark. I sure hope their supplies include a torch and some warm blankets. I stoop low under the doorway and set Justine on the bed, carefully arranging her leg so her foot is elevated.

We set aside the packs and switch off the cameras. They don’t have enough battery power to last until morning, even if I wanted to keep filming this fiasco. Which I don’t. Though having cameras around will at least reduce my level of temptation to do something I shouldn’t.

“Stay here. I’m going to go check and see if there’s any firewood and anything to light a fire,” I tell Justine.

She nods.

I head out into the dim light and hunt around, finally finding a few measly sticks. At least they’re dry. I walk once more around the perimeter of the house and on my way back inside, I finally have some luck. I come across an old wood pile and an ax.

Making short work of the chopping, I cut us some smaller pieces and heft two large logs into my arms as well. Then I carry it all back inside.

Justine has unpacked the contents of the satchel and laid them out on the bed in front of her. I’m pleased to see she still has her leg up, though. She’s switched on a torch, leaving it lying on its side, illuminating the room and casting strangely slanted shadows.

“Anything useful?” I ask her.

“There are some matches.” She hands them to me. “And a couple of protein bars and apples. So I guess we won’t go hungry.”

“Speak for yourself,” I scoff. “Takes more than a protein bar and a piece of fruit to satisfy me.” Takes a lot more, but I’ll live.

I was only joking, but she holds out both protein bars. “Take them. I’m fine.”

I take one, refusing the other. “You eat yours.”

I set the fire going with some effort. I use the map and some leaves to get it started, and add several smaller, lighter chips of wood until it catches.

When I’m confident it’s not going to fizzle out on us, I turn back to Justine. “Let’s have a look at this ankle, hmm?”

---