“If you leave me here, you’re just as much to blame as the ones who kill me, you know that?” Tristan said, and his voice wobbled.
Colby’s shoulders hunched. For a breathless second, Tristan thought he was going to say something.
But he didn’t. Just disappeared through the door, bolting it behind him. At least he kept his promise and kept the light on.
Tristan’s knees gave out and he sank down to crouch in the corner, burying his head in his cold, clammy hands. He knew the pack would come for him, knew it with every beat of his heart.
He just didn’t know if they’d be in time.
Chapter Four
COLBY
What the hell had he thought he was doing, talking to Tristan? Now he couldn’t get those hazel eyes out of his mind, or the expression in them—fear mixed with confidence in his pack. Of course they’d come for him. Urban wouldn’t let anyone get away with a power play like this.
But there’d been something more than confidence in Tristan. A warmth, a belief in the members of his pack, not just knowledge that rescue might be on the way. Even in a cold, bare room, Tristan seemed to be bursting with life in a way Colby could scarcely remember.
He shook his head. He didn’t think he’d ever been that naive. If he had, boot camp had knocked it out of him pretty damn quick.
And Colby had threatened Tristan. He hadn’t wanted to, but he’dhadto. If he’d left the bowl or the water bottle there, Nico would know he’d disobeyed him, and the consequences of that were something Colby didn’t want to imagine. But rememberingthe way he’d used his position of power, his size and strength to menace Tristan until his hands trembled, his gut curdled. In that moment, he’d been no different from Nico.
Desperate for a distraction, he ended up in the small overgrown paddock behind the barn, working out again. It was all that was left to him. And if he pushed himself hard enough, his brain would switch off and all that would be left would be the burn in his muscles as he strained for breath. There would be no more thoughts.
He lost himself and all sense of time. All he knew was his body and the growing pain as he kept going, pushing everything that was circling his mind and his heart as far away as it would go.
“Colby.”
The soft voice, curling oily smooth around him, brought him to a halt, mid-crunch. Nico was standing over him, and how the hell had Colby not been aware of his approach? Colby scrambled to his feet, his arms and legs suddenly trembling.
Nico pivoted on his heel and caught sight of Jeff lurking. He snarled, and Jeff slunk away, getting lost in the shadows. Colby couldn’t tell what the snarl was for, but if Nico had seen the way Jeff looked at him, it would only be a matter of time. And somehow, that would still be Colby’s fault. It always was.
The shadows were a hell of a lot longer than Colby had realized, meaning he should have been back at the house at least thirty minutes ago, waiting for Nico to return from the perimeter. Instead, Nico had to come and find him.
Colby swallowed as he trailed Nico across the compound, back to the house. There wasn’t much he could do about any of it now, except try and defuse whatever was going to come his way.
It was a vain hope. Nico kicked the door shut and shoved Colby hard enough that he slammed into the wall with a heavy thud and the sharp crack of drywall giving way. Pain flared throughhis shoulder, and then Nico’s forearm was at his throat, pinning him fast. He strained for breath, pressure building in his skull and his pulse thudding in his ears.
Nico’s snarl was feral. “I ask one thing of you, and you can’t even do that right, you dumb shit.”
Colby tried to shape the wordsorry, but no sound came. His mouth opened and closed like a fish hauled out of water.
He didn’t see the first hit coming—just the explosion of light behind his eyes as his head snapped sideways. The next strike hit lower, brutal and fast, a jab to the gut that made his knees buckle.
He hit the floor hard, but Nico didn’t stop. A kick drove into his side, another to his thigh, and Colby stopped tracking them, concentrating on the feel of wood under his cheek and the warm wetness spreading down the side of his face. The room seemed too quiet, too bright.
Then came the worst of it. The part he never let himself remember clearly. The part that blurred around the edges, except for the pain. Nico’s voice broke through the haze, as his teeth sank into Colby’s shoulder. A hoarse, triumphant, “Mine.”
Moments later, Nico kicked off his jeans fully and lay down beside him. His fingers drifted over Colby’s face with unsettling care, trailing over the swelling under his eye, the split skin over his cheekbone.
Colby flinched before he could stop himself.
“Why d’you do it, Colby?” Nico’s voice was soft, coaxing. “Why d’you do the things that make me mad? Is it just to get my attention? Because you’ve already got it, sweetheart. You know that. You know I love you.”
Colby didn’t answer. He’d learned silence could sometimes be safety.
Nico’s touch lingered, featherlight and familiar. Too familiar. Colby let his eyes slide out of focus, the ceiling soft and vague, untilhe found a crack in the plaster. Locking on to it, he counted the branches in it like steps away from the present.
The pain from Nico’s blows was nothing compared to the ache in Colby’s heart. Lying here like this, he couldn’t help remembering how it had been at the beginning—how Nico’s hunger for him had felt like the best thing in the world, how his possessiveness had left Colby feeling wanted, valued andloved.
