I stepped outsideinto the oppressive, blinding sunlight, the air clinging to my skin like a suffocating shroud.
The screen door groaned loudly as it shut behind me. I had barely taken two steps before Jackson appeared, blocking my path.
“Whoa,” he said softly, his hands pressing firmly on my shoulders. His grin stretched too wide, like a wolf showing teeth.
“What do you want, Jackson?” I asked, hurriedly sidestepping him. “Being a creep?” I watched him closely, searching for any hint of his intentions. Was he a player in my part of this game? He remained an impenetrable wall, emotionless and cold.
His head tilted unnaturally. “What were you doing in there?”
“Bug bites,” I said quickly.
His eyes slowly trailed up my body until they landed on the hickey on my neck.
“What’s that on your neck?”
“Nothing,” I said, denying it too fast.
Before I could react, his fingers brushed my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. The touch was intrusive, unsettling, and made my skin crawl. I flinched.
“Jackson. Stop.”
“Seriously?” His voice was flat now, emptied of humor. “Did he do that to you?”
I stepped back, pushing him away from me. But he grabbed my wrist, his grip tight. His knuckles whitened as he clung to me. I struggled to break free, but he tightened his hold until I felt like the bones in my wrist were about to snap under the pressure.
“It’s none of your business,” I snapped.
“Bullshit.” He let go of my arm and stepped closer, shadows in his eyes. “I know you. And I know the two of you aren’t fucking. So I want to know how the fuck you got a hickey on your neck!”
“Leave me the fuck alone, Jackson.” I took a hesitant step back, my heartbeat pounding erratically.
He chuckled then, a shrill, menacing sound that sent chills down my spine.
“That kiss he gave you yesterday? That was a friendly kiss. Want me to tell you the difference?” He leaned in, hot breath scalding my cheek. “I’ve fucked you. And trust me, I didn’t kiss you like that after.”
I froze, rage and nausea tangling in my throat. He had never kissed me. Not once. Not after the first time, not after the last. He’d treated me like a body, not a person.
I was nothing more than a piece of flesh for him to torment and use. I was overlooked, insignificant. The kiss with Max hadmeant everything to me. But now a flicker of doubt, fueled by Nurse Campbell’s words, spiraled through my mind.
Don’t trust anyone. Not even Max.
I was starting to second-guess everything.
What game was I in?
Who was coming for me?
The feeling of paranoia was gripping my throat, and the longer I talked to Jackson, the more I felt like I was going to pass out.
“He doesn’t kiss you like a man who’s been inside you,” Jackson sneered, eyes narrowing, venom in his voice. “Max—someone like him, he wouldn’t be gentle. He’d destroy you. He’d own you. He’s not as nice as you think.”
I froze, absorbing his words. What was he implying?
“Well, too bad for you,” I forced out, my voice trembling, “he’s fucking me, and he’s… nice.” Panic surged as my breathing quickened, the ache of hyperventilation pressing beneath my skin.
A beat of silence passed between us before his grin faded entirely. His face hardened into an icy mask.
“You’re lying,” he murmured softly, a cold edge to his voice. “And you’re a terrible liar, Kenz.” His eyes darted toward the cabin. “But if I find out he touched you, I’ll cut out his fucking tongue for tasting you and make you keep it. A reminder of my love for you. And when I’m finished with him…,” His voice dropped lower. “I’ll fuck you over what’s left.”
