“I just want to go back to Elder. If he’s even alive.”
“Elder?”
“The man I love.”
“The man you think you love.” Her face fell with sympathy. “You’re not the first to try to return to her master. A few attempted when they first arrived. Depending on how long you’ve been his property, the mind distorts what’s right and wrong. What’s real.”
I glowered, jerking Suzette closer. “Don’t belittle me and say I don’t know my own heart.”
Tess held up her hands. “I’m not belittling you. I’m telling you what I’ve experienced. However, if you want to tell me your side of the story, then I’ll gladly listen.” Her eyes narrowed. “But first, you must let my friend go and agree not to hurt anyone.”
I snorted at the irony. The way I was holding Suzette was nothing. I was embracing her compared to the bone-breaking pain I’d been given.
Suzette whispered under her breath, “She’ll listen, you know. If it’s truly a mistake, she’ll fix it. She’s married to Q and—”
Oh, hell no.
Shoving Suzette away, I balled my hands, glaring at Tess. “You’re married to the bastard who stole me? The idiot who shot the man who rescued me? The asshole who left him to die?”
I didn’t care I was wide open for a bullet.
I couldn’t believe this woman.
I couldn’t believe she had the audacity to judge me as if I’d given my heart to a lost cause only to give hers to a man who never listened and ripped apart lovers.
The hypocrite!
Tess stiffened, looking me up and down. Finally, she glanced at Franco and Suzette. “I think you guys had better go.”
Franco never lowered his gun. “I’m not leaving you with her. If Q was here, he’d—”
Tess spun to face him. “He’s not here, and I’m fully capable of looking after myself, Franco. Thank you for your concern but you and Suzette spend the afternoon somewhere else.”
Dismissing them and zeroing her entire attention on me, she backed into the lounge and beckoned me to join her. “Come on. Let’s talk.”
Chapter Three
______________________________
Elder
AN HOUR INTO the cruise from Southampton to Calais and my temper had burned through most of the painkillers Michaels had given me.
The only saving grace of being enroute to France was the waking water beneath the hull. The stagnancy of the harbour had gone; my fast-paced mind happier with the quick speed and hum of engines. They pacified me enough to wince my way through a shower and dress in something that wasn’t bullet-torn or blood stained.
It’d taken five times as long to do something so simple, but I’d obnoxiously refused help, telling Selix to piss off and somehow managing to unwrap the many bandages and hiss my way into the shower. Balancing on one leg with an elbow and shoulder unable to function was a lot harder than I thought.
I probably shouldn’t submerge fresh wounds and stitches and definitely shouldn’t remove slings and splints, but I had to get clean.
Not once.
Not twice.
But three times.
I had to wash away the shit I’d done so I could focus with a fresh mind to bring Pim home.
By the time I’d wrangled my way back into the brace and bandages and fought one-armed into a dark grey shirt and fumbled with the buttons, my forehead shone with agony-sweat. My elbow bellowed from contorting and being used against its will while my bones ached, deciding the effort to be human and wear clothing wasn’t enough to justify the nausea and fever decorating my skin.
But then I had to do it all over again, hoisting on a pair of trousers to complete my wardrobe and prevent giving people an eyeful of my crotch. The bottom half gave double the trouble—pulling on linen slacks instead of my first attempted jeans after being too tight to maneuverer around my fractured ankle. I used every curse word imaginable before the zipper was up and the dreaded things secured.
Dressed but out of breath, I scowled at the array of walking sticks and crutches Michaels had left by my bed. The brace on my ankle was as far as I was prepared to go.
I refused to hop around like a broken rabbit.
Selix had given me a quick rundown of what’d happened.
Obviously, I was aware how idiotic I’d been not to notice how silent the Phantom was or the missing staff. But the rest, I wasn’t savvy on.
Two deck hands had been killed when the Chinmoku first climbed on board. Their bodies were found by the emergency siren in the back of the yacht. Luckily, they’d had enough time to pull the cord and alert everyone to evacuate into the safe room.
Everyone, including Jolfer and high-ranking crew officials, managed to get in before they’d sealed the space and settled in to wait out the Chinmoku.
Unfortunately, in their rush to hide, cell phones had been left behind, but even those who had them weren’t able to warn us due to the thick armoured plating blocking mobile signals.