Page 9 of Broken Minds

Chapter Five

Hayden Vale was rightin front of me, standing over me so he could get a better look at the gash on my forehead.

His jogging pants hung low on his hips, and as he lifted his arm to wipe away the blood around the wound, his close-fitting t-shirt rode up, exposing the tan, smooth ridges of his abs and those annoyingly hot lines right between his hips and stomach.

Damn, what was that part of a man called? I searched my mind for the name. Something to do with Adonis, I thought, and I could see why. Perhaps they should rename them ‘girl bait’ and be done with it.

I couldn’t believe I was even thinking about that when I was his prisoner and my nose was all banged up, but his proximity did strange things to me. His touch on my head was gentle, though I flinched with each dab of the tissue he used to wipe away the rest of the blood. Was I so starved for human contact that I’d even take this man? I had the ridiculous urge to leaned forward and press my cheek against the taut muscles of his stomach and wrap my arms around his waist. I hated that I was attracted to him, but it was hard not to be when he looked the way he did. It occurred to me that in the position we were currently in, I would only have to duck a little lower to carry on where we’d left off the previous evening. Of course, I’d struggle, what with not being able to breathe out of my nose and all.

A strange, bunged-up snort of laughter erupted from me at the thought, and Hayden stepped back and frowned. “What was that?”

I bit my lower lip, trying to contain my mirth. I must have hit my head harder than I’d previously thought, as I’d clearly lost my everlasting mind. I had a possible broken nose, and I was considering how hard it would be to give my kidnapper a blowjob when I couldn’t even breathe through it.

I couldn’t look at him. “Sorry,” I manage to squeak. “Keep going.”

He frowned at me again as though he couldn’t quite work me out, and then picked up the medical kit he’d brought down. “I’m going to put some antiseptic cream on the cut, which might sting a little, and then use some Steri-Strips to hold the wound shut, okay? It looked worse than it really is, but it’s still quite deep.”

“Let’s hope my nose also looks worse than it really is,” I replied. My face throbbed with the rhythm of my heartbeat. I did hope it wasn’t broken, but there wasn’t much I could do about it if it was. “I assume you’re not going to take me to the Emergency Room if it is?”

He frowned. “You know I can’t do that.” Then he paused and added, “Actually, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. Henry and Javier still haven’t returned with the plane.”

This was new information. “They haven’t? Why not? Is the weather still bad?”

“It might be down to that, but I would have thought they’d contact me if something had happened.”

“Unless they’re unable to.”

His lips twisted. “Yeah, that’s what worries me.”

“So, we’re trapped here, on the island?”

He lifted his dark eyebrows. “We wouldn’t be if you haven’t untied the boat.”

Shit. This was going to be my fault again, wasn’t it? I hated his ability to twist things around so I was the one to blame, even though he was the one who’d kidnapped me. I wouldn’t even be in this situation if he hadn’t brought me here. Wasn’t that one of the telling signs of a narcissist? That they had the ability to twist everything around and make you question yourself when really it was their fault.

“I wouldn’t have untied the boat if you hadn’t abducted me,” I snapped, not intending to let him get away with it.

“I wouldn’t have abducted you if you hadn’t protected your fucking father and got my mother killed.”

I gritted my teeth, scowling, clenching my fists to contain my emotions. He always had a comeback for everything.

He used the Steri-Strips, pressing too hard, sending pain through my scalp. “Ouch.”

“Sorry,” he said, though he didn’t sound it in the slightest.

We fell silent as he continued to patch me up. My thoughts were a torrent.

“Can’t you hire another boat or a plane?” I asked suddenly. “It isn’t as though you can’t afford it.”

“It’s not the hiring of the transport that’s the problem,” he replied. “It’s the people I’d be hiring it from. I had this all planned out, and I think someone is going to get suspicious if I bring a beaten-up girl onto a plane or boat with me. It’s one thing if those people were already working for me, and I’d already vetted them and checked they knew how to keep their mouth closed, but not if it’s just some random company I’m going to be forced to find.”

My mind whirred, wondering what this meant. If he couldn’t get off the island—or at least couldn’t get me off the island, what would he do with me? He’d have no use for me anymore. Was he capable of killing me? I wasn’t sure. He had moments of kindness—gentleness, even—like right now where he was patching me up, or when he’d brought down wine and a homecooked meal. But then he could be cold and vicious, and I was terrified of him in those moments.

I remembered we weren’t completely alone on the island. “What about Loretta? Is she feeling well again?”

“She’s doing better, but she’s not up and about yet.”

“Does she have some way of organizing for us to get off the island?”

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