NINETEEN
AUBREY
It waslike I’d opened a fucking floodgate. Any chance Phoenix had, he cornered me and pressed his mouth against one of my scars, demanding the story. I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, that I’d given him more than enough of me. Probably more than I’d given anyone, if I was being honest.
That last bit made me even more angry—I was giving him more in a few weeks than Bishop had managed to work out of me in two years. More than Ben had ever even hoped to know. Somehow, he was drawing it out of me, forcing the words to spill from my lungs like a plant starved for the sun, reaching toward the enigmatic shine that was his brutality.
He was going to cut me open and take the pieces until there was nothing left of the shield I’d pulled around me, until all that remained was the Aubrey I was trying so hard to run from.
We needed a distraction—maybe one that didn’tinvolve him nearly getting killed this time, because I was pretty sure I wouldn’t recover if I had to see him like that again.
That should have been a warning. I should have snuck out in the middle of the night and never looked back, because Phoenix was starting to become a thing I was afraid I couldn’t live without…
And I couldn’t do that again.
“Can we go check out that house on the island?” I got the words out as soon as we woke up, before he was aware enough to even think about asking me a question. He looked almost cute, all sleep rumpled and confused as he let out a low grunt and looped his fingers through my collar. Phoenix yanked me down against his chest with a low grumble.
“Can I fucking wake up before you drag me out into danger?” His voice was thick with sleep, and his fingers trailed through my hair like he was trying to drag me back under with him. The warmth of his arms was tempting, but I pushed myself up.
“You’ll probably be fine. Unless there are still tigers there.”
The thought made excitement spark in my chest. Tigers.
Bishop and I had talked incessantly about the tigers, and how amazing it would be to see one. Shit, that was half the reason we’d wanted to come to this place. Yeah, it was safe, and yeah, there was every chance we might be able to start a life here.
But…
Tigers? There was something about the thought of something wild, something so powerful still existing.
It was just a stupid dream and we knew it, but we held onto it.
“Tigers?” Phoenix grunted, but the word managed to get him out of bed. He swiped a bag off the floor and started dumping things in there—canteens of water, some dried jerky that I wasn’t going to touch. He stuffed the bottle of oil he used as lube into his pants pocket with a wicked grin in my direction.
“Do tigers make you horny?”
He snickered and grabbed something off the dresser beside the bed, tossing it to me. I caught the little wooden figure against my chest, instantly recognizing Blythe’s work. Even though I’d been trying my best to ignore the rest of the raiders, she and Zero were always around.
“Depends, I guess. I’ve always been at the top of the food chain. You’d have to tell me how it feels to be hunted.”
I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes anymore than I could stop the slight smile that tugged at the corner of my lips. I didn’t want to give him either of them, but like most things when it came to Phoenix, I was starting to feel like I didn’t have a choice.
“Fuck you. Let’s go.”
We’d donea damn good job clearing and reinforcing the resort. There were still a few places left for us to look over—the little house in the middle of the island that we were trailing to, for one—but most of what we had left wasisolated to their own areas. If there were still things lurking around, we’d find them. We were almost finished.
And I wasn’t sure what I was going to do once we were.
I’d told myself from the beginning that once we were done, I’d find a way to leave. I knew it wouldn’t be easy. Phoenix wouldn’t just let me walk out—even though he didn’t have me on a leash, the collar I wore felt like a tether, and the weight of his ocean eyes on me felt like a tidal wave pulling me out to sea.
That stare was the only thing keeping me afloat in a world where I’d forgotten how to swim.
How had a few weeks made me forget?
I had to figure it out again.
And as much as I should have started right away, I turned and grinned over my shoulder as we walked across the bridge that led to the house in the middle of the artificial lagoon they’d built. I remembered this house advertised in the little brochure Bishop and I had found. It was the most expensive, something you’d have to pay entirely too much to stay in.
In the faded picture, the water had been blue and clear, and there’d been animals swimming in it—fish and bigger things.
