18. Rafe

18

RAFE

I hadn't gotten Isabelle alone since our meeting yesterday. When she took me back to my room and checked on my wounds, I hoped to get a few minutes with her, but a guard followed us into the room, cutting off any chances of chatting with her. But as she walked into my bedroom this morning, I saw the look she shot me.

"Still have your bodyguards, I see." I eyed the guard who followed her into the room. He took a moment to look around, and while he did that, she pressed on my shoulder, pushing me back to the bed. I groaned as my body protested the movement. I was sore as hell and pain was a constant friend of mine. Even with the infusion of blood, I still felt drained and slept most of the time. If it weren't for the guards checking on me multiple times throughout the night, I might have actually gotten a full night's sleep.

"How are you feeling today?" Isabelle asked.

"Just peachy," I grunted as she pressed around the wound. I didn't know what the hell she was doing, but it felt like she was tearing out my insides.

"You've got a little bit of an infection. We need to get that cleared up before you can leave."

"Is it bad?"

Her eyes flicked to mine and then she glanced over her shoulder. "You should live."

She took her time cleaning me up and bandaging me again. Then she picked up a vial and shoved a needle inside.

"What the hell is that for?"

"It's for the infection."

"You're not jabbing me with that," I said. I wasn't really afraid of needles, but I got the feeling she was trying to find a way to talk to me.

"You need it if you want to live."

"No," I said, jerking upright, bumping into her. She dropped the vial on the floor and it shattered at her feet.

She gasped, stepping away from me as the guard rushed forward. "Shit." She turned to the guard. "Find Finn. I need another vial of antibiotics."

"I'm to stay with you."

"Then you need to contact Dr. Listma."

"He's not on the island."

She sighed in frustration. "Look, I get that you want to do your job, but this man needs some antibiotics so he doesn't die of this infection. He's already lost too much blood and his body is weak. Are you going to get them for me or not?"

He grit his teeth and turned, storming out of the room. When she turned back to me, she kept her voice low. "I know who you are."

"You know me?"

She nodded. "I saw something in Zavala's office one day. You shouldn't have come here."

"I had to."

"Why? I'm nobody."

I frowned, not understanding. "What are you talking about?"

"You're risking a hell of a lot coming here."

I grabbed her hand, stopping her from patching me up. "Isabelle, I don't think you understand. I'm your brother."

The color on her face drained as she stumbled back a step. "What? No, I don't have a brother."

"My name is Rafe—" I shook my head in frustration. "Guy Owens. My father is Michael Gage."

"No," she shook her head. "You can't—why would you come here?" She started gathering her supplies, her eyes darting to the door.

"To get you. Isabelle, we need to talk."

"You shouldn't have come. He'll kill you."

"He'll kill you if you stay here," I retorted.

"No, he loves me."

"Is that what you call kidnapping? Isabelle, if he loves you, it's a really fucked up form of love."

She stiffened, her face growing hard. "He's a good man. He takes care of me. He?—"

She looked like she was on the verge of tears. How could she possibly love this man? He stole her from her home. He forced her to marry him. He?—

"Isabelle, this isn't love. It's Stockholm Syndrome."

"What would you know about me? I've never even met you before."

"Do you know what it took to get to you?" I seethed. "I came here for you."

"You shouldn't have. I'm happy."

"No, you're a captive. You've been brainwashed into thinking this man loves you. You're a toy to him."

She shook her head, backing up with every word I spoke.

"You said it yourself. He'll kill me if he knows who I am."

"Because you're trying to take me from him. He's very possessive."

"And you like that?"

She couldn't look at me as she turned away from me. I didn't know how to get through to her, but if I couldn't convince her Zavala was bad, then how the hell was I going to get her off the island? All of this would have been for nothing.

"I have to go."

"You haven't given me my antibiotics," I said quickly, hoping to get her to stay.

Her face warred with indecision.

"Isabelle, I swear to you, I only want to help you."

"You shouldn't have come. I'm…happy here."

"Are you? What about Claire?"

Her face snapped up and for the first time, a smile graced her lips. "How is she?"

"I've never met her, but I know her. I know she's desperate to see you. She's never stopped looking for you. Neither has your father. Don't you want to talk to her again?"

"I talk to her every week. Sometimes…sometimes we even FaceTime."

"And that's enough for you?"

I could practically read the thoughts racing through her mind. It had been thirteen years. Maybe it was too hard to think about the possibility of seeing her mom again. Maybe it was easier to know she would get those weekly phone calls.

The door opened and the guard walked back in. His eyes immediately took in everything in the room, mostly me. "Everything alright here, Mrs. Zavala?"

"Of course. May I have the antibiotic, please?" She held out her hand, waiting for the vial. As the guard gave it to her, she quickly walked over and administered it, then turned and walked away without looking at me again.

The guard glared at me. Clearly, he didn't trust me, and he shouldn't. I would continue to work on Isabelle until she came around. And if she didn't, I would kidnap her just like Zavala had done, and I would find some way to return her to her mother.

"Mr. Zavala said you're to stay in here today. Don't attempt to leave. There will be a guard posted outside your door."

"Where would I go?" I grinned.

He didn't say anything else as he turned and left. I heard the snick of the lock and laid back down with a sigh. Getting her off this island would be harder than I thought.