I checked the date.
August 15.
My birthday.
Amazing.
One week had passed since Blackshear.
I had been out for a whole week. Gone. I had no one to call. No one to talk to about this. There were days missing in my head. Days ripped out like paper. My injuries were still all over my body from the glass, but I was bandaged and healing.
Somebody had patched me up.
Did the Alliance heal my wounds? Had they carried me in here, stepped over my shit, and tucked me into bed like a joke? I hadn’t even moved in yet. How did all my stuff get here in the first place?
A cold feeling slid down my spine. They’d been in my house. In my room. They knew exactly how I would set things up.
Another ping from my phone jolted me out of my thoughts.
The message lit my screen.
You’ve survived. The real game begins soon.
My stomach dropped. Before I could even breathe, another notification hit. A photo downloaded, filling the screen.
Mackenzie.
She was on the back of a motorcycle, arms wrapped tightaround some guy’s middle. Helmet on. No face I could see. Just her body pressed into his. I knew it was her. The way her shoulders were hunched forward, the way she held onto him.
Was this the guy who had checked her out from camp? Herbrother?
I screamed.
The sound bounced off the walls. My hands shook so hard I almost dropped my phone.
I looked down at my other hand, at my wedding ring. My fingers trembled. My chest burned with jealousy and fear and something darker, something that felt a lot like the man in the mask back in the woods.
They had her.
They were using her.
I didn’t care who got in my way; I would find her.
Even if it meant dying to get her back.
I just didn’t realize the price wasn’t my life.
It was Max McKinnon.
EPILOGUE
Max
Three Years Later
Max McKinnon was dead.
At least, the version of me that went on romantic kayak rides and shot arrows for fun. That version of me lurked in the shadows of Blackshear’s trees.
