Luca didn’t even look back and climbed into the limo.
Bastian got in next.
I stepped toward the door, but Dad grabbed my arm.
“Damian, you’re special,” he said, his voice low but deep. “You will have the easiest time on the island. Use the skills I taught you to survive. Understand?”
My hunting skills.
I nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Good boy.” He patted my back. “Take care of your brothers. Bash will need you the most.”
He didn’t realize that I needed Bash more than he needed me. But we never talked about that part of our relationship. Luca and Marcello knew, so I was sure our dad did. However, he never confronted us about it.
“I’ll take care of them,” I promised before getting into the limo with my brothers.
The scenery below us was breathtaking. There was nothing but blue-green water for miles. The island was off the Atlantic Ocean, but I wasn’t sure where they were taking us.
When we were about to land on the island, I leaned over and wrapped my arm around Bash. “We’ll get through this together,” I whispered in his ear. “It’s you and me. Forever.”
The rotary blades were so loud that it was hard to hear over them.
He pressed his lips to my ear and said, “Always.” His hand grazed my thigh, and I wished he would keep it there, but he pulled away immediately, knowing Luca was watching us. “Two months. We can make it, D.”
There was no way in hell I would disappoint my father. I didn’t care if they starved us to death because the three of us would survive.
As our bodies separated, Luca glared at us. He didn’t have any issues with our being into each other. But he had a problem with us showing what he considered unnecessary affection.
“If you two act like pussies on this island,” Luca hissed, shaking his head. “I’m disowning you.”
The helicopter landed.
Luca took one look at us and hopped down from the chopper without another word.
“Fucking asshole,” Bash mumbled, hand balled into a fist on his lap. “I might kill him before we leave this goddamn island.”
There was blood. So much fucking blood that the air smelled like metal. It was all I could think about, consumed by the bloodlust. My heart raced uncontrollably, clambering in my chest.
I needed Bash.
But he couldn’t fix me, not how I needed him to, and not with all The Devil’s Knights in our pledge class surrounding us. He watched me lose my mind, kneeling on the ground and tearing through organs. Right through the muscle. Discarding the bones like a vulture picking apart the scraps of a corpse.
They made me do this.
I didn’t have a choice.
I had to survive.
For him.
For her.
For them.
Two months later, we came home from Skull Island bruised and battered. We were not the same men who left Devil’s Creek.
Our father waited for us on the front steps as we exited the limousine. Dressed in a black Brioni suit, he grinned, which was unusual. He rarely smiled, but today, he couldn’t contain his excitement. A man of few words, Arlo pulled each of us into a one-arm hug, starting with Luca and saving me for last.
