Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 100563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
I glowered at him as if my eyes could reach through the bars and kill him on my behalf. “You have the gall to stand there and pretend you’ve done me a goddamn favour by stitching me back together? That I’m happy I’m alive after hundreds of animals were blown to fucking bits by my brother? That I’m grateful knowing Eleanor is unprotected and at Drake’s fucking mercy?” My fury exploded. “You’re the reason forty guards are dead, Campbell! You’re the reason Skittles is dead. You’re the fucking reason Calvin is—”
“Cal is alive.” He held up his hand, stress etching his mouth. “I give you my word, Sinclair, Calvin Moor still breathes.”
“You’re lying.” I froze, my chest pumping. “I saw him on the beach. His heart was giving out.”
“He sustained two gunshots to his torso. One nicked his stomach and the other punctured his lung, but I was able to stabilise his condition.” He looked over his shoulder at the guard posted by the door. “He’s in my surgery. Along with...” He lowered his voice. “Your caique, the female...I scooped her from the beach when Drake summoned me to attend you. Her wing is fractured, but she’s alive. She is recovering in secrecy beside Cal.”
Thank fuck.
“And Pika?”
“Haven’t seen him.”
Shit, he better be alive.
Skittles was alive.
Cal was alive.
As much as I hated this bastard, he’d kept two of the most important things in my world breathing.
Eleanor would never have to know I’d been the reason Skittles almost died. I wouldn’t have to live the rest of my life with Cal’s ghost judging my every action.
I ground my teeth, cursing the weight of thankfulness as it slithered beneath my hate. “What do you want? A fucking thank you? They’re hurt because of you. My islands have been infiltrated because of you. Eleanor and my goddesses are in danger because of you!”
He flinched, clasping his hands in front of him. “I owe you an apology, Sinclair. You’re quite right that I now have to live with the knowledge that I am the reason so many guards—men who I knew on a first-name basis—are dead. However...” His jaw clenched. “I am not responsible for your goddesses being in danger. That’s entirely on you.”
“What?” The cage swam as I thrashed to get free. “You fucking hypocrite. You called my brother to kill me, and you stand there thinking my girls’ lives are better off? How stupid do you have to be?”
Acid splashed up my throat.
Greyness feathered over my vision.
My leg switched from throbbing to beating like a war drum.
Do. Not. Pass. Out.
Goddammit!
I blinked, shaking my head and willing my heart to stop racing.
The doctor squatted to his haunches, his voice low and hushed. “Keep your voice down. The longer they think you’re incapacitated, the more time you have to recover.” He sighed. “In full disclosure, I patched Drake up too. The stab wound in his shoulder was shallow. The strangulation effects minor. A few stitches where you grazed him with a bullet. However, your punches did some damage. Regardless of your condition, Sinclair, you almost killed him three nights ago with your bare hands—”
“Three nights ago?” I groaned as adrenaline made me sick. “Three fucking days?”
“You were in surgery for a long time. Your body needed time to heal. Once you’ve eaten something solid, you’ll regain your strength—”
“What sort of sick game are you playing?” I snarled. “Do you really think my life hasn’t been drastically shortened thanks to your snitching? You betray me, yet you fix me. You welcome my worst enemy, and you fix him too. You have the fucking balls to tell me Cal and Skittles will survive, all while you condemn the lives of innocent women? Do you honestly think Drake will free them? Is that what this is about? You think he’ll act merciful and stop my sexual trading? Bullshit! He’s already enslaved them to a nightmare. He’ll rape them until they beg to die. You just sentenced them to hell, Campbell—”
“You shattered the voice box of Calico and almost killed Neptune and Jupiter! That was my last straw, Sinclair! I’m a doctor. I swore an oath to protect and nurture, not repair what you break. And I didn’t call him, alright?!” He flinched, lowering his temper. “Well, not directly. A coup was not my intention.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” I stiffened, ignoring the hiss of guilt for what I’d done to three goddesses who’d tried to murder the only girl who mattered to me.
He looked at the ground, genuine contrition on his face. “I only ever wanted to protect the girls you so callously turn into desperate whores. You’ve gone too far.”
My hands curled, the handcuffs jangling. “You, as well as anyone, know how well they are treated. You’re the head of their medical care, for fuck’s sake. They’re healthy and happy—”