exist, he was almost translucent. Sores pockmarked his body, and the parts of skin he did have revealed veins and arteries that looked sickly and weak.
Sully once again ducked and rubbed the excited animal. He touched him exceedingly carefully, stroking only the healthy areas, aware of causing pain. “Hey, Cuthbert. You’re also looking better but not ready to join the main sty yet.”
“Sorry, Mr. Sinclair. He heard you while I was administering his antibiotics. He has learned how to open doors.” She shrugged, a capped needle in her gloved hand. “He is too smart.”
Sully smiled. “He’s relaxing…learning he’s safe.”
“Yes.” The woman smiled back. “He takes his medicine well. Even with the injection twice a day.”
“Is the new formula working better?”
She nodded. “It seems to be. His condition has cleared up quicker this past week. Soon, he’ll be able to go to the powder antibiotic instead of the needle.”
“That’s good to hear.” Sully studiously avoided my stare.
I was sure my mouth hung open as my curiosity blazed bright. I wanted to grab him and demand to know everything.
But Sully moved away, motioning for the woman to follow.
I stayed glued to the sandstone tiles, suffering a more profound change than I had when I’d been washed and prepared for sale.
Who was he?
Who is Sullivan Sinclair?
Andika moved quietly to my side, his attention on Sully and the vet but his words just for me. “I see your confusion, ma’am. Do you want to know what this place is?”
I turned to look at him, desperation in my gaze. “Please, tell me.”
Andika cast a look in Sully’s direction again before giving me his full attention. His black eyes glowed with affection for his employer and pride at his vocation. “When Mr. Sinclair took over his family’s pharmaceutical empire, he rewrote the rules. He banned all animal testing in his labs. Those already there, he took with him on his sixth day in power. He healed the ones he could, humanely euthanized those in too much pain, and made it his purpose to deliver a life worthy of the soul his scientists had almost destroyed. Most still live on the island, some have been transferred to other islands to live the way nature intended, and others have been gifted to loving homes—all with very strict follow-up contracts to ensure continued well-being—but all of them are happy and healthy.”
“I…I don’t know what to say.”
“There is nothing to say, ma’am.” Andika shrugged. “After he liberated the animals from his own labs, he set about changing the rules for everyone. He, eh…went to war for them. He did unspeakable things. He…um, chose animal lives over human life and set up this sanctuary for them.” His eyes dropped to the floor. “He lost so much by fighting for those who couldn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean—”
“Jinx.” Sully broke us apart, shooting a livid gaze at Andika. “The helicopter is here. We’re leaving.” Holding out his hand, he shook Andika’s. “Thanks for your excellent care. I’ll ensure you receive your requests.”
“Thank you, sir.” Andika shot me a final look before bowing and stepping back.
Sully glowered at me, his gaze probing mine, searching to know how much I’d been told. His features etched with anger as his hand lashed around my wrist again and yanked me outside.
Behind the animal hospital, the helicopter waited.
Ready to fly me back to hell.
Chapter Nineteen
SILENCE REIGNED BETWEEN US.
Not through choice but necessity.
The helicopter whirred too loud to speak without a headset, and any conversation between Eleanor and I probably wouldn’t be suitable for pilots.
How much had Andika told her? Why the hell had he opened his mouth? What I did on Serigala wasn’t for public knowledge. It was my…hobby. My one saving grace.
Eleanor sat stiff beside me, her gaze alternating between Skittles trembling in her blistered hands and the view of my utopian empire outside. The sun shone extra bright this afternoon, making up for the storm that’d swept through, leaving a few trails of destruction from broken trees to flotsam besmirching the postcard-perfect beaches.
I studied her out the corner of my eye. She sat straight-backed and supremely royal. It didn’t matter she only wore my shirt, that seaweed still clung to her long, tangled hair, or that her sunburn turned her from snowy to pink. She had an aura about her that hadn’t slipped since arriving on my island. She hadn’t lost her tenacity or inner strength. If I had a sister (and found it appropriate to use such ‘girly’ words), I’d say she hadn’t lost any