Check

  “It’s a little difficult to keep an island hidden if your guests are texting their locations to the world.”

  “Then how does everyone communicate?” Warner asked.

  “It’s a world-class resort, yes. But things are very laid-back. We simply use radios or hand carry notes. Of course, you are free to make all the changes you like.”

  More lies. I knew because before I left, I’d taken a job as the island manager so I could hunt for information on Cici. All of the staff had special cell phones that worked on Rook’s private system.

  “Well, if this place is world class, then I’m sure you can find bungalows for the rest of my men.”

  And split them up, Warner? Not such a great idea. I had to wonder if Warner had any clue what was coming. I sure don’t.

  “Of course.” Rook picked a few people to help Warner’s men get settled. Warner took ten more randomly.

  “Now, you gonna show me around, or what?” Warner said to Rook.

  “May we bury the body first?” Rook’s tone was placid.

  “In a few hours. I don’t want your people forgetting what happens if they try anything.”

  “That is doubtful, but as you wish.” Rook dipped his head. “And will you be wanting dinner tonight?”

  Warner jerked his head at Joe, who still stood behind the bar. “Go through the kitchen. Start figuring something out. Nobody touches my food but you.”

  “Yes, Mr. Price,” said Joe.

  Warner removed his tie and jacket. “You didn’t tell me it’s hot as fuck here, Rook.”

  “The island takes some getting used to, but I’m sure you will adjust quite easily after you see all it has to offer.”

  “Yeah. Whatever. Let’s go and see the rest of this shit hole.”

  Shit hole. Only Warner price would call a tropical paradise a “shit hole,” though come to think of it, I’m sure I called it that myself a few times, but not because the island wasn’t stunning with its pristine turquoise waters, white sandy beaches, and lush tropical gardens. I simply hated the place because it had taken so much from me.

  “Come on, princess.” Mr. Classy gave me another shove.

  Asshole. I swear, if I got out of this, Mr. Classy would be shown no mercy.

  We stepped outside and loaded into golf carts.

  “What would you like to see first, your new home, the docks, or the sets for our fantasies?” Rook asked Warner.

  “You got girls for fucking on those sets?” Warner asked.

  “I’m sorry to say that only our administrative staff is here. We bring in our actors when there are guests, and those guests are usually women. Most, not all, prefer men.”

  “Well, I got women. Lots of ’em. And we’re gonna fix this fucking place right.”

  I wanted to be sick. Warner planned to bring all of those poor, drugged-out, kidnapped women here and turn the entire place into a whorehouse. As bad as Rook was, he never forced his staff to do anything. All of the actors seemed to love their work. Pirates, cowboys, knights, and commandos—the men who served the guests were well trained, ripped, and proudly horny. Rook’s island was a place for a woman to find herself and explore her sexuality without prejudice.

  Really, Stef? Are you forgetting what else this place is? Cursed. It was cursed.

  How long would it take for Warner to find out? The answer was, not long.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Stephanie

  I had no clue what happened after the tour, but Mr. Classy locked me in the empty pantry inside Rook’s house. No food. No water. After several hours, I finally nodded off on the cool tile floor, only to be woken by a man screaming from somewhere inside the house.

  I sat up, feeling the blood rush to my heart and head. Oh God. It’s starting. Rook and his people were making their move.

  I got to my feet and pressed my ear to the door. I heard shuffling across the kitchen floor. “Jesus! Fuck!” the man screamed.

  The pantry door flew open, and Warner stood there with a bloody knife in his hand. His white dress shirt was drenched in red.

  Oh, God. No. Was it Rook’s blood? If he was dead…if he was dead…I couldn’t bear to think about it. In the blink of an eye, I went from hating him and wanting to just get out of this alive, to feeling like the bottom had dropped out of my world. If you hurt him, so help me…

  “Is there a fucking doctor on this island?” Warner asked, panting hard.

  “I-I don’t know. Where is Rook?”

  “Locked up.”

  Thank God. He was all right. But now I had to face facts. Rook still meant more to me than I wanted to admit.

  “Then…whose blood is that?” I asked.

  Warner pointed with the bloody knife toward the living room, his hand shaking uncontrollably. Fearing it was Luke or someone I knew, I slowly tiptoed over and peeked through the doorway. Mr. Classy lay facedown in a pool of blood.

  “Jesus.” I stepped back. “What did he do?” Not that I gave one shit about the man.

  “Nothing. I don’t know—I was—” Warner tossed the knife on the marble counter and started mumbling to himself, running his bloody hands through his dark hair. Not every word was coherent, but it sounded like Warner had been dreaming of some man named Ralph, a man Warner had killed who couldn’t possibly be alive. Warner then woke up to find himself stabbing Mr. Classy.

  He stabbed him while asleep? But I already knew that sometimes the dreams here felt real. This island played tricks with your mind.

  “I’ll go see if I can find a doctor.” I wanted to take full advantage of Warner’s disorientation. Just outside, past the garden, was a shed with a staircase that led underground to the offices and the surveillance room. There were cameras all over the island, including inside this house, and I bet they were watching, preparing to take Warner out. I wanted to help.

  “No! You’re not going anywhere.” Warner pointed to a phone sitting on the counter. “Call them.”

  “Okay.” I walked over and dialed 0, but no one answered. “I don’t think they have anyone operating the phones right now.” I hung up.

  “Where the fuck are Rook’s people?”

  I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was three in the morning. “Sleeping, I think.”

  “Well, we’re gonna fucking wake them all up.” Warner grabbed my hand and dragged me through the living room and around Mr. Dead. I resisted spitting at the back of his head on the way out.

  Karma’s a bitch. Rest in hell. And whatever was going on was just the beginning. I could feel the darkness and rage pulsing through the air. It was like…like…the island didn’t want them here.

  We got into a golf cart and headed toward the bungalows. I could see in Warner’s eyes that he wanted someone to pay for this, even if the man had died by his own hand.

  Rook

  Though I was not on good terms with my aunt, Luke, and some of the other staff, I was well aware that when it came to men like Warner, we would all set aside our differences. Even now, when I’d brought this threat to the island in order to save Stephanie—a woman who had betrayed us all by injecting this monster into the mix—no one hesitated to follow orders. What mattered most was that nobody else got hurt and that Warner and his men never menaced a single soul again. Our poor chef, Geoffrey, had been with us for fifty-nine years. So as angry as anyone felt with me, as much as they wanted to live forever, none of us would stand for Warner’s tyranny. It went against everything we believed in.

  “Rook!” Warner’s deep voice boomed through the bungalow where ten of my people and I had been closed up in the bedroom for the night. “Get your fucking ass out here!”

  The sleepy, startled faces of my staff—women, men I’d come to know and love—looked at me in terror.

  “It’s all right.” I spoke in a low calm voice. “I’ll deal with him.” I rose from the hardwood floor and entered the living room, ready for anything. “Warner, it’s a bit early…”

  I noticed the blood on his hands and cheeks. St
ephanie stood beside him, looking utterly pale with the exception of her cuts and bruises.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  Warner rushed at me, shaking a bloody finger. “Don’t you pretend you don’t fucking know.” He grabbed the collar of my white dress shirt.

  “I assure you I don’t.”

  He shook me hard, and though I could snap his neck in an instant, I couldn’t risk the lives of so many. Warner had given his men instructions to kill us all should we make one wrong move.

  “You did something to me. You put drugs in my whiskey,” he ranted, his loose strands of dark hair falling into his bright red face.

  “I assure you that you will find no drugs on this island. They are strictly prohibited. But might I ask what has occurred?”

  He returned to pointing his finger in my face. “I’m not weak. I’m not stupid. And my conscience doesn’t haunt me. You’re behind this,” he added.

  Has he gone mad? “Behind what?” I wanted to look at Stephanie for answers, but it was best not to draw any attention to her. This man was as volatile as he was violent.

  Warner released me and began to pace back and forth across the living room, mumbling to himself. Two of his men, both armed, stood by the entry, looking nervous as hell. Clearly, they weren’t accustomed to seeing their boss freaking the fuck out.

  To my displeasure, Stephanie spoke up. “He stabbed one of his men in his sleep, thinking it was someone else.”

  “Shut up!” Warner charged at Stephanie and backhanded her. She dropped to the floor.

  Sonofabitch. It took everything I had not to beat the living hell out of him, but if I wanted her to survive, I had to stay in control. Stick to the plan. Stick to the plan, James.

  Stephanie sat up, wincing and rubbing her already purple cheek. My heart felt for her. She had been treated like an animal, and this situation was going to get worse before it got better.

  At least that piece of human shit is dead. The foggy-eyed man was who I guessed had died. He hadn’t left Stephanie’s side the entire trip but was now glaringly absent.

  “Whatever you think happened, Warner,” I said, “I assure you, it had nothing to do with any of us. You can ask your men. We’ve been locked in here, and the other staff doesn’t want to cross you.”

  Warner pulled out a gun and pointed it at the top of Stephanie’s head. “I’ll give you three seconds to say the truth or I’ll put a bullet in her head. The ten people in that bedroom will be next.”

  I felt my rage slither through a crack in my armor, determined to undermine my control like a venomous snake. “The moment she’s gone, you’ll have nothing left to bargain with.” That wasn’t completely true since there were many others I cared for on the island, but he got the point. She was his biggest bargaining chip because he knew how much I loved her.

  “Then I’ll leave her alive.” Warner raised a hand and slammed the butt of his gun down on Stephanie’s head. She fell sideways to the floor, moaning in pain.

  That was it. I lunged, knocked Warner to his ass, and began striking his face, the first blow landing with an audible crunch.

  “No. James, no!” Stephanie called out, but my white-hot rage had gotten the better of me—the man who’d lived two centuries in a vice of denial and restraint, studying the word of God and the scripture of Father Rook. But in this moment, I wasn’t a monk. I was just a man defending the woman he loved.

  “James! Stop! They’re going to kill her,” Stephanie yelled.

  Fist cocked, I looked up and saw one of Warner’s men holding a pistol to my aunt’s head.

  I released Warner and stood. “Let her go,” I snarled.

  Warner wiped his bloody lip with the back of his hand and got to his feet. “Shoot her.” Warner looked at his man.

  “If you do that, you’ll never have it,” spouted my aunt in her thick French-Caribbean accent.

  “Don’t you dare fucking tell them.” I spoke in a low, uncompromising tone.

  My aunt continued, “This place is much more than a resort. It is the fountain of youth.”

  Warner placed his hands on his sides and laughed, doubling over at the waist.

  “I can prove it. But only if you let everyone leave,” she said.

  “You think I’m a kid who believes in fairytales?” said Warner.

  “I’m two hundred and fifty-two years old.” She placed her hands on her hips, mirroring his posture.

  Warner and his men chuckled. “I’ve heard some stupid shit in my days, but never this.”

  Luke came through the front door, apparently having eavesdropped on the conversation. “We can go there right now. You drink the water, and you’ll be young again. Just like all of these people you’ve met on this island. None of us should be alive. I myself was born in 1923.”

  Warner looked at me expectantly, perhaps debating whether to shoot me, shoot my aunt, or shoot all of us.

  Dammit. This was not the plan. I needed more time to build up to the fantasy so Warner would buy it. However, the die had been cast, and I had no choice but to move forward.

  I shrugged. “Ask yourself how else a tiny island manages to keep its independence. How did we manage not to become a British or French colony? How do we stay off of satellites and maps in this age of technology? It’s not as simple as paying people off. But it is as simple as keeping our friends in high places all around the world happy.”

  Warner stared back with those predatory dark eyes, but underneath I could see the wheels turning.

  I added, “You want to keep this island, Warner, then you’ll need to keep them as allies, and you’ll never do that if you don’t truly understand this place.”

  “You’re all fucking nuts.” Warner cackled, clearly amused.

  “Perhaps. Nevertheless, it will take all of five minutes to learn the truth,” I pushed.

  Warner looked at one of his men. “Find this water they’re talking about. The rest of them stay here. And you two,” he pointed at a pair of men with bald heads, “search every inch of this island. There are more people here.”

  “What do you want us to do with them?” asked his man.

  “Shoot them.”

  “Your threats are getting old, Warner,” I said. “If you haven’t noticed, the only thing any of us want to do is assist you in taking over so we can all be on our way.”

  Warner looked at his men. “Shoot ’em.”

  Asshole. He couldn’t be reasoned with because his narcissistic tendencies told him he was above being threatened. He could and would kill at the drop of a hat because he saw no value in human life other than his own. Even the anger he felt for the man he’d just killed with his own hands was more about his ego than the man’s life. Warner did not like being out of control. It was an affront to his self-image.

  Well, you’re about to experience helplessness in ways you never dreamed, Warner. Because while the island had its many mysteries and a way of disposing of unwelcome guests, we had learned long ago the cost of being unprepared. We left nothing to chance, and it was time for us to play our hand.

  “I have another proposal, Warner.” I scratched my jaw. “If we can prove what we’re saying is true in ten minutes, will you agree to give my people safe passage? Luke will go for a drink and return. No lives lost. No risk to your men. The only thing you’re risking is Luke running off.”

  “I would never do that.” Luke crossed his arms over his chest. For the record, he was not as old as me and had swum only twice, once to heal from an injury. Otherwise, he had planned to let himself go to fifty or sixty years old before resetting the clock because after he swam, he looked twenty, which he hated. He felt people treated him like a child, and it grated on his nerves. At the moment, he looked to be in his mid-forties.

  “What have you really got to lose, Warner?” I prodded.

  Warner frowned. He was ninety-nine percent sold but still needed a push.

  “You sell coke, heroin, and women for a pittance, Warner. You depend on suppliers a
nd others to make your profits. You’re nothing but a middleman. With this, you’ll be the only source for the biggest drug in the world: eternal youth. Your customers can’t overdose or die. They will stay loyal and pay any price. Not even God can offer this product.”

  Fucking asshole. Take the bait. Take it.

  Warner narrowed his eyes. “I’ll give you ten minutes. If this guy doesn’t come back with proof, then I’ll kill you and every one of your people, including your lying little bitch, though if I were you, I wouldn’t care. She sold you out. She brought you to us.”

  “That’s because I lied and kept the truth from her.” I looked at Stephanie. “She has every right to hate me.”

  “Like I give a fuck,” Warner growled.

  Like I care that you don’t. I’d spoken for her benefit. She needed to know that I did not blame her for any of this.

  “Luke will be right back,” I said, “and then we must move past all this, Warner. I’ve been a slave to this island’s secret for far too long. So trust me when I say that you are not my enemy. You are just the cutthroat bastard I’ve been waiting for to take over. After all, I wouldn’t want the island falling into the wrong hands—some government who’d keep the water all for themselves.”

  “Ten minutes.” Warner looked at his watch and then at Luke. “You take one second longer, and these twelve people are dead.”

  “Calm yourself. I’ll be back on time.” Luke strutted out, and the rest of us waited with bated breath. No one looked at each other, instead staring at the floor. It was a four- to five-minute drive to the lagoon. Swimming took a minute at the least. Then there was the trip back. Luke would make it in time if he hurried.

  “Time’s fucking up,” said Warner.

  “Wait!” Stephanie raised her hands. “I hear him coming. You’re so close to having it all and more—so much more—than I promised, Warner. Isn’t that worth a few extra seconds?”

  “I’m here.” Luke burst through the door. While I noticed he was wet from head to toe, not something one might expect from merely drinking water, Warner was focused on the optics.

  “Fuck me.” Warner looked like he might pass out. “Is this a joke?”