I hesitate, just for a beat.
Stevie stares me down.
Atlas watches us like he’s already planned five outcomes and none end well for me.
“I’m not leaving until I talk to all of you,” she says, tilting her chin up.
Shaking my head, I pull out my phone and text the group chat.
The reply is instantaneous.
Niko walks in first, sharp-eyed and stone-faced, fully dressed like he never planned on sleeping.
Dallas shows up a minute later, barefoot and shirtless in his boxer briefs. His hair is sticking up in every direction, and his eyes are half open.
Both of them freeze when they see Stevie.
Dallas squints. “Is this a dream? Please tell me this is a dream.”
Atlas smirks. “Nope. It’s your fucking intervention.”
“I want the truth.” Stevie says, folding her arms across her chest. “All of it. Every kiss. Every touch. Every time you crossed a line. I want to know exactly what’s been going on between the three of you and my sister. And don’t even think about sugarcoating it.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
VIOLET
My heart slamsinto my stomach as the lights above me flicker on and I instantly move into action.
Rummaging for the makeshift weapon I slid under the mattress, I grasp it in my palm, tuck myself into the darkest corner of the bed, and ready myself for what’s coming.
The seconds it takes for him to unchain the flimsy metal doors feel like hours, and by the time they swing open and his frame steps into view, adrenaline is coursing through my veins and my heart is practically leaping out of my chest.
His vacant brown eyes scan the room, and when they finally land on me, my whole body trembles.
“There she is.” He croons, stepping towards me as he loosens the expensive silk tie around his neck. “My perfect girl. Did you miss me?”
He says it like we mean something to each other. Like I’m not just something he bought and broke over and over again.
I narrow my eyes as he closes the distance between us, tracking his every move.
As he draws closer, my eyes catch a tiny beam of light gleaming from the ground in front of him, and my stomach sinks.
Shit.
Its glass.
From the skylight I shattered to forge my makeshift weapon.
I thought I cleared it all, but in the darkness, I must have missed a piece.
Fuck.
Time slows down, and I watch with bated breath as his shoe hovers over the shard of glass and crunches down on it.
His ankle wobbles, and his expression drops.
The silence that fills the 10x10 shed is deafening.