What the hell just happened? I swat a lock of hair from my face, my vision blurring with tears. “You win what exactly?”
“I will be the one punishing you.” Cole’s eyes dance with ruthless fire. “And you’ll love every minute of it.”
“No, Cole.” I ball my hands at my sides, my voice simmering with venom. “You will take your verbal masturbation and shove it up your cocky, lying, cheating ass!”
“There she is.” Trace’s scowl lifts at the corner.
“What does that mean?” I angrily swipe at the moisture on my cheek.
“You lost that feisty attitude over the past few months. I hoped this…action plan would inspire it to return.”
“By action plan you mean knocking me unconscious and dragging me into the middle of nowhere?”
“Yes.” Trace tilts his head, his towering frame deadly still.
“Move out of my way.” I hold my fists at my sides.
“Danni—”
“I want to leave gently, gracefully. Give me that.” I lower my tone. “Let. Me. Go.”
“You don’t get to go gentle.” Cole leans in, his breath heating my neck. “Not when you have a reason to fight.”
“Fight for what? Can you not see how hopeless this is?” I plaster my back against the cabinet, hemmed in and restless for space. “We’re a tangled, damaged, unfortunate tragedy of love. I’m not fighting for that.”
“You will.” Trace steps to the side, opening a path to escape.
I take it, running toward the door at the edge of the kitchen and finding a three-car garage on the other side.
Cole’s motorcycle, multiple ATVs, and a black Range Rover fill the stalls. I close the door, leaving them in the kitchen, and scour the garage for keys. Nothing. The SUV is the only vehicle that can get me back to civilization, and all the doors are locked. Fuck.
Maybe there are more cars in the driveway? I circle back and hit the button that lifts the garage doors. I’m surprised Cole and Trace haven’t followed me. It’s not a good sign. If there’s a chance I can leave, I’m certain they’ll prevent it. Doesn’t stop me from racing into the blast of cold air outside of the garage.
The half-circle driveway is empty. My shoulders fall, and the frigid temperatures shiver through my bones. I don’t have a coat or a phone. My stiletto boots are sexy as hell, but I won’t last a mile in them.
I walk to the end of the black asphalt and pause at the narrow dirt road that winds into the woods. The estate sits on a dead end. No other houses. No rumble of traffic in the distance. Total isolation.
Dusk blankets the surrounding forest of leaf-less trees in a gray gloom, the sky growing darker by the minute. My only option is to go back inside, but my boots remain rooted to the pavement.
It’s peaceful out here. Calming. Other than the sounds of squirrels rustling the undergrowth and the occasional chirrup of a bird, it’s noiseless. Lifeless. Completely void of drama and trickery.
A cobblestone sidewalk leads away from the driveway and curves around the wing of the estate, the path illuminated by dim lights. I follow it, wishing I had my coat as the chilly breeze penetrates my sweater.
Gurgling, river-rock streams and mulched footpaths trail off in every direction, begging to be explored. Most lead into the woods. Others point the way to patios and exterior doors of the house.
I stick to the main walkway, which takes me to the rear terrace. The kitchen and living room are visible beyond the full-length windows, but I don’t see Cole or Trace. They’re probably watching me on hidden cameras, the fuckers.
From there, I cross the bridge that descends to the dock on the cove. The tree-lined shores wrap around calm dark water that stretches for miles. Several boat lights bob in the horizon, far outside of hearing range and not likely to venture near this inlet.
A metal gate bars entry to the covered dock. Another keypad. But when I pull the handle, the latch buzzes an electronic sound and opens. I look back at the house. Are they controlling it remotely?
Overhead bulbs light the way as I walk down the center between the boat slips. I pass a ski boat, fishing boat, pontoon, several jet skis—all buttoned up with heavy tarp. Even if I could unsnap the covers and find a key, where the hell would I go on a lake in the middle of January? It’s off-season, and this part of the state is a ghost town.
I continue to the end of the dock, where it opens to the cove. Benches bolt to the uncovered section of the dock, facing the water. I lower onto one of the seats and wrap my arms around myself, shuddering against the cold.
The lake is so still it looks like black tar, enrobed by the shadows of skeletal trees. I bet the landscape is stunning in the warmer months.
I glance over my shoulder at the stone-veneered lakefront estate. It has panoramic views from every room, lavishly set on acres of raw wilderness. The natural rock and wrought-iron terrace is beautifully landscaped with archway columns and discreet lighting. A private dock, six boat slips, no neighbors—it’s a recluse’s paradise.
If this is Trace’s property, why didn’t I know about it? Maybe it belongs to a friend? Maybe I should just head back inside and ask them. Cole said I was free to go after he talked to me and delivered my punishment.
My skin heats at the thought of him spanking me. I close my eyes, hating the way he still affects me. They both have so much power over my reactions. Too much. Even after the lies and the betrayal and the cheating, I want them.
This is why I can’t be near them. I don’t trust myself.
I don’t trust my heart.
Leaving them went against my deepest instincts, and it hurts. It terrifies me. They make my pulse race and my head spin and stir things in me I’ll never experience with another person.
My life began and ended with them. I might be able to physically move on, but I’m not kidding myself. I will never get over them.
While I had to stop the toxic cycle we were in, I never stopped loving them. The rare and beautiful thing I had with each of them was strangled by lies, gutted by broken promises, and infected with poisonous distrust.
I’m just as much to blame for its corruption. I hurt them with my indecisiveness. I held their hearts in my hands and forced them to bend painfully, unnaturally, to gain pieces of mine.
My weak, naive selfishness didn’t solve a damn thing. I broke us, kiss by jealous kiss, breath by greedy breath.
What do I do now? Should I listen to what they have to say at the risk of being pulled into their lies? Or should I stay clear of them and get the hell back to St. Louis?
The sky darkens to a sooty black, and the cold air seeps in. I tug the sleeves of my sweater over my hands, stalling, waiting. It won’t be long before they show up.
Just as I thought, less than a minute passes before footsteps sound on the dock. Except I only hear one set of treads. Probably Trace, since he’s the one with the gun.
I don’t turn to look as my visitor stops behind me and drapes a fleece blanket around my shoulders.