A few seconds later he found the cell and turned on the flashlight, making sure to aim it away from him. The last thing he needed was a blast into his eyes. His headache would never go away after that.

Scanning the area right around him with a minimum of movement didn’t make things better. He spotted the blood streaked across the floor, on his hand. He wasn’t so great with blood. Seeing it made the dizziness come roaring back. He fought to stay on his feet long enough to make a call.

As the phone rang, one simple thought kept replaying in his head. He’d only been on the island a few hours and someone already wanted him gone.

Chapter 2

Connor hated hospitals. Hated dealing with police and answering questions. When his sister was killed all those months ago, his life split wide open. There was the man he was before and the one he’d turned into after. He went from being the younger son, working his way up in the family business, to the only one in the right headspace to lead.

In the “before,” he’d been naive. Dedicated but still grounded in the belief that a healthy person needed outlets and friends. Time away from his desk and responsibilities.

Everything changed on that one day. Alexis plunged over that cliff during a hike because the one person in the world who was supposed to love and cherish her threw her off. Her psychopath of a husband wanted money and another woman, and he made Alexis disposable.

Since then Connor had disappeared into his work. With his parents broken with grief and his brother obsessed with revenge, everything fell to him. That included identifying the body and handling the police, the lawyers, and the press.

Sitting there now, with his legs hanging over the side of the hospital bed in the Whitaker Clinic’s emergency room, feeling the panic swirling through the halls and the grim sense of urgency on the staff’s faces, brought it all back. The sight of nurses rushing around. The smell of cleaning supplies and disinfectant.

The sensation that he would never be okay again.

Before he could muster his scrambled thoughts, the curtains surrounding his bed parted. He tried not to jump at the clinking sound of metal against metal as hooks slid on the rod.

Ben Clifford, the island’s version of law enforcement, stepped into the open space. He’d been the one Connor called because Hansen had given him Ben’s contact info for a meet-up once he got settled on Whitaker. This was his big brother’s friend and he came rushing, asking questions and making sure Connor got in to see a doctor right away.

Things were calmer now as Ben gave a nod hello. “There are better ways to meet.”