My heart burns at the memory of the last cheeseburger I had with Mason, how life had seemed so complicated then. I was so stupid. I had everything I never even knew I wanted and turned my back on it all for this?
Being held captive has given me time to think, to face my own mortality, and to pray. I’ve gone through every emotion possible, wringing them all dry until I’m left with only one.
Remorse.
I wasted so much time. I could have been living but didn’t, and Mason . . . God, I should’ve thrown myself at his feet when I had the chance. Now I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again.
“Eat!”
My eyes dart to Hatch’s, and the telltale glaze of inebriation coats his glare.
I pop a cold fry into my mouth and chew it until it’s liquid, my throat refusing to open and take food into my belly. I dip my chin, hiding my face behind my ratted hair, and try to hide my disgust.
“It’s almost over.” He tilts his head, watching me. “Soon, this’ll all be over.”
“I don’t even know what this is, Hatch.” I try to take a few sips of water, hoping it’ll ease my queasy stomach. “You haven’t told me anything other than you know who killed my sister but refuse to say.”
My gut burns as anger ignites my blood.
He chuckles, but the sound clashes against the pain that twists his expression. “It’ll all be over soon.”
God, why does he keep saying that? And furthermore, what does that mean? I answer my own question and my stomach revolts. They’re gonna kill me.
I pick away at my food in silence, and Hatch drinks while punching out the occasional text. Since when did he get so popular?
A knock on the door makes me jump, slamming my knee into the table.
I study Hatch, who doesn’t seem surprised by the visitor. I haven’t seen another person besides Hatch since he brought me here.
A sheen of sweat breaks across my skin, and I pull helplessly against my cuffed wrist. Equal parts panic and hope explode in my chest as Hatch cracks the door and speaks in a hushed voice.
I lean to try to peek around his massive back, but I’m at a weird angle and unable to see past him.
Seconds pass before he steps back and a man enters the room. I can’t make him out at first, other than he’s wearing a baseball hat and his lack of leather and denim tells me he’s not a biker.
Once inside, the guy steps closer to me, and the dim lamp light reveals his face.
I choke on a gasp and cough through a sob.
“Drake? Oh God, Drake!” I pull hard with my arm, pushing my seat back and standing up to launch myself into his arms. “Get me out of here.” I stand and move toward him, dragging the chair with me.
He peruses me with narrowed eyes, seeing me in nothing but an oversized T-shirt and hair that hasn’t been brushed in days, but says nothing.
Dread trickles in, cooling the warmth I’d felt upon first seeing him. My head spins as I try to piece it all together, and when he sets his dark and frigid eyes on mine, it all clicks into place.
I drop back into my chair. “You did this?”
He closes the space between us, but sits at the foot of the bed, just outside arm’s reach. Smart. I’d claw his fucking eyes out. “I did.”
I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “But . . .” I shake my head, looking between Hatch and Drake. These men aren’t strangers. Hatch was a friend and Drake is my boyfriend’s brother. “Why?”
He takes off his hat and runs one palm over his cropped hair before popping it back on. “I needed out.”
I swing my gaze to Hatch, who throws back more booze, ignoring me. “What does that have to do with me?”
“Blood for blood. A life for a life.” He says it with zero feeling, as if he didn’t just sign my death warrant.
“My life”—I take a few seconds to process—“for your life.”
“Yes.”
I should feel something, a wave of rage that crashes over me and takes away all thought and turns me into some kind of feral animal that will risk my very breath for the chance to escape. Instead, I’m strangely numb, as if the concept is too much for my heart to take. Too complex for my mind to assimilate.
“But . . . Mason.”
Drake nods, as if he’d considered that too. “He’ll get over you.”
That’s it? He’ll get over me?
“No, he’ll kill you,” I spit between clenched teeth, the primal beast inside waking to the idea that by doing this, Drake will cause Mason pain.
He sighs and leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “He’ll believe you left him. He’s been through it before. He’ll get through it again.”
No, he won’t. Maybe he has in the past, but what we have is different. What we have is forever.
The last band that tethered me to sanity snaps, and I cover my mouth, trying to force back the beginnings of crazed laughter.
His eyes narrow and he takes me in, cautious, as if at any moment I’ll morph into a rabid beast. A giggle bursts from between my lips and quickly matures to full-blown laughter.
A chuckle grates from Hatch as I double over in my seat, letting the absurdity overtake me. Tears spring to my eyes as I suck air into my lungs. “He’s so gonna kill you.”