My gaze drifts over his face, slow and deliberate, like I’m cataloging every detail he’s trying to keep locked down.
A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. “Something definitely happened. And it wasn’t the first time.”
He moves before I fully register it. One second there’s space between us—the next, his hand is on my face. His palm presses over my mouth, firm, controlled, not rough but not gentle either. His pinky brushes just beneath my nose, the heel of his handanchoring my jaw as he steps into me, close enough that I feel the heat of him through the thin space between us.
My breath stutters against his skin as my heart skips a beat before picking up its pace.
His eyes lock onto mine. “Let me make something clear to you: You don’t know me; you’ve never known me.” His thumb shifts slightly, not enough to soften the hold, just enough to keep me exactly where he wants me. “But I know you.”
Every word lands like it’s been sharpened beforehand. My breathing picks up the longer I look into his blue-gray eyes.
“I know how you move. I know what you do to people,” he continues, voice low and baked with something I can’t decipher.
Something tightens in my chest, but I don’t look away.
“I know exactly what’s going to happen here: you’re going to fucking ruin this family.”
It’sconviction. That’s what coats his words.
“So I hope you enjoy today, Bellamy.” His gaze flicks over my face once, like he’s memorizing something. “Because when this all falls apart—and it fucking will—you’re the only one to blame. And then god help you, because you’re gonna need it.”
He drops his hand and steps back.
I blink once, twice, slow, letting the words linger in the air between us. Letting them graze every tender, unbandaged piece of me before they settle somewhere deeper, somewhere that will keep them alive for later.
I roll my neck slowly, once, twice, letting the tension crack and settle as I shake out my arms like I can physically dislodge the weight of it.
This isn’t new. Different words but same intent. The problem is that it still lands every fucking time.
And I hate that I’m standing here cataloging the exact pressure of his palm against my jaw, the specific temperature ofhis voice when he saidruin, the way his eyes moved over my face at the end like he was taking something with him.
I’m not that girl anymore.
I’m also not sure that matters.
My mouth curves anyway, because it’s the only thing I have that’s mine right now.
“Still dramatic,” I say, quiet enough that it’s mostly for me.I should leave it there. I know how to leave things there—I’ve been doing it my whole life, setting things down and walking away before they get heavy enough to matter.
I take a step back, then another.
The edge finds me before I’m ready for it, the drop yawning open beneath my heels, and for one suspended second I don’t move.
Then I jump.
THIRTY-ONE
BELLAMY
The cold water hits me,shocking but refreshing, before it rushes away. Hands find me before I can fully surface, pulling me sideways through the waves, his grip firm on my arm as he steers us toward the shelter of the rocks.
“Hey—” I start, half-laughing, half-breathless as adrenaline zings through my veins.
“Shh,” Cruz murmurs, a grin teasing at the corners of his lips. “We’re hiding.”
We slip into a narrow cut between the rocks, the water calmer here, cradling us away from the open drop where the others are still surfacing. The space is tight, the smooth stone pressing against my back, and I can feel the warmth radiating from him.
“Why are we hiding?” I ask, amusement bubbling up inside me.
