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“Maison, you don’t mean that.”

He lowers his head, then raises his pained eyes to meet mine. “Yes, I do. He ends up ruining everything he touches…” a silent, painful pause, “including you.”

The words strike as intended, ripping a hole in my heart.

I open my mouth. “What does that supposed to mean?”

He shakes his head. “Stay away from him, baby. I mean it. It won’t end well for you. He’ll poison you… he poisons everything he touches.”

With all my strength, I push myself away from him. I ball my fists and strike him… I hit him hard. “Like you poisoned Olivia?” I shriek. “You shared her, then when she fell in love with him, you poisoned and killed her, Maison. So don’t stand here and blame Micah for everything.”

The viciousness of my words surprise even me. In no way did I mean for them to come out like that.

Or… my stomach drops, in front of everyone.

He stands there and shakes his head. His eyes flash with sadness and… love. He still loves me, even though he’s losing me.

I know he’s hurting right now, but how can he be so stubborn? I wipe the tears streaming down my face as Ezra and Naomi walk over and stand in front of me, placing themselves in between me and Maison.

“Don’t hit him again,” Naomi threatens.

“You,” a guttural noise releases from me, “are the ones who tried to cut off Thomas’s hand.” I purse my lips and glare at them. “Micah did nothing wrong. He was just defending Thomas.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.” Naomi stands with her hands on her hips and head tilted.“We weren’t actually going to cut off his hand, London. We were teaching him a lesson—the same lesson you needed to be taught. Don’t come here spreading lies about our friend group and our history. You weren’t even there.”

Our history? What the fuck was your involvement, Naomi?

What about the next time? Or the time after that? Where is the line between riotousness and pure evil? They tread that line. They drew blood—they made me bleed, too. And these are Maison’s friends? The people he’s aligning himself with over his twin brother?

Ezra’s nostrils flare as he wipes sweat off his brow. He’s shaking, probably because he knows how close he was to Micah killing him. Micah scares him, as he should. Micah would fuck him right up; he’s the strongest guy on this island.

He yells to the rest of the group, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Micah’s a liability. He can’t come back here. If anyone follows him and helps him, they are on his side.” He flits his eyes to me. “Do you understand that, London?”

I take two steps back and stare him right in the eye. “Loud and clear.”

Without looking back, I stomp back to the shelter. Maison follows me, desperation pouring out of his eyes.

“London, wait.” He grabs my waist and pulls me to him. My entire body stiffens beneath him. I can’t even look him in the eyes. My whole body sinks into him. I give up fighting. “You let him leave. How could you let him leave?” The sobs shake out of me.

His lips graze the back of my head. “It’s for the best. When he gets like this, he is dangerous, even to himself. He’s unstable. Micah’s sick, baby—he doesn’t view the world the way you and I do. I don’t want him hurting you, too. I can’t lose you, London.”

Like he lost Olivia. Like they both lost Olivia. Is that all I am to both of them? A proxy to her?

“He was helping Thomas! How is that unstable? He’s the only person on this damn island who’s actually thinking clearly. We are not above the law, Maison. Hurting people with a knife or beating them in the woods is not right.” I turn to face him. “We can’t kill each other, Maison.”

“Look around, London. No one is here but us, and no one’s coming, either. This is our island, and Ezra’s in charge. Thomas fucked up, that’s it.”

Ezra is not in charge—how does he not see that?

“I don’t want to be a part of a group that will stand by and allow this.”

His nostrils flare, that darkness again hinting in his eyes. “You can’t leave. I won’t let you.”

Fire ripples under my skin. “You won’t let me? How about you don’t have a fucking choice?”

He rubs his hands through his hair while I whirl around toward our shelter. I grab my pack and start throwing whatever I can inside. He stands back and lets me, watching as I ready myself to leave him. I dare to look at him again, his eyes so pained now. He shakes his head. “I can’t protect you if you leave. You’re going to be on your own.”

I reach out and cup his cheek. I run my hands down to his chin, his facial hair soft under my skin. “I don’t need you to protect me, Maison. I need you to step up and do the right thing for your brother.”