Page 26 of Too Safe

“You have to be freezing,” he murmurs, propping on the edge of the bench beside me. “Here.” He pulls off his Lake Chapel U hoodie and holds it out to me.

“Fuck. Off. Lockewood,” I snarl.

He recoils like I’ve struck him.Good.

But instead of retreating like I hoped, he doubles down.

“This doesn’t have to be the end of the world, Joey. If you don’t act like a victim—”

“Fuckoff!” I screech, my voice shrill and desperate.

All eyes snap to me.

They don’t want me to play the victim? Maybe they shouldn’t have forcibly removed me from my bed. They don’t get to be the bad guys, then insist what they did wasn’t that bad. I won’t be gaslit by Nicholas Lockewood or any of these other entitled assholes.

Victim. I hate that fucking word.

I swore to myself I’d never be a victim again. So I won’t. But they don’t know that yet.

Shuddering from the chill, I close my eyes and rest my cheek on the side of the overstuffed armchair. I curl my arms around my legs, thankful now that I was too tired to change out of my leggings and into my usual sleep shorts after work.

I’ve been in here for what feels like hours. Not that I actually know how much time has passed since I don’t have my phone. Though I’m pretty sure Kylian was fiddling with it when they escorted me inside.

I gave up physically fighting them when I got off the boat and almost face-planted on the dock outside Decker’s house.

I’m desperate to get away, but I’m not suicidal.

Now that I’m here, I have to be smart. The only way off this hellish isle is by boat, according to what Hunter implied last weekend. But there’s a dense, woodsy swamp behind the house thatmustlead somewhere.

I sneer at the memory of the last time I was in this place. Was it really just a week ago? When I willingly—excitedly, even—showed up, hooked up with Locke in the pantry, and rolled my eyes at Decker’s overbearing antics?

I underestimated him, that’s for damn sure.

A soft knock on the door has me scrambling to sit up. I won’t let them catch me lying down, feeling sorry for myself. I refuse to let them see me as avictim, as Locke so eloquently put it.

Kylian steps inside first, focus glued to the device in his hand, per usual. The light reflects in the lenses of his glasses, making his eyes glow a Caribbean blue that momentarily mesmerizes me.

I shake myself out of it when Decker follows. He stalks into the room like he owns the place. Which I guess he does.

Sitting up straighter, I catalog his every move. As much as I hate his stupid face, I can’t deny that he has this presence about him. He commands attention. Awareness dances up my spine when he’s near, and even when I fight against the urge, I can’t seem to look away.

That’s how it is between predators and prey, isn’t it? I’m transfixed. Watching his every move. Waiting for him to strike.

Kendrick saunters in behind them, his signature bored expression firmly in place. I’ve yet to see him look anything but unamused.

Locke is last. His face is screwed up in distress like he’s going to be physically ill. And again, he’s making a point to look everywhere but at me.

That’s all I need to know about what’s about to happen.

“What’s the plan, big guy?” I rise to my feet and crack my knuckles, then roll my neck a few times. Preparing for battle but feigning a casual demeanor, like I haven’t a care in the world.

“What you saw—” Decker starts.

“I didn’t seeshit,” I seethe. Hands bunched into fists, I push down the urge to charge and shove him in his stupid broad chest.

So much for keeping my cool.

“What you saw,” Decker repeats sternly. He pauses and scrutinizes me. Probably gauging whether I’m going to interrupt him again.

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