Chapter 19
NINETEEN
HANNAH
“You need to be taught a lesson, Hannah.”
My heart feels like a jackhammer, every muscle inside me tight as my father glares at me from our sailboat. “I-I can explain.”
“Get on, Rowen.” My father speaks to Rye instead.
“Are you leaving her here?” he asks.
“Yes,” my father responds, owning his insanity.
“Ma!” I call, but my mother refuses to look at me. She gives me no time to explain how I ended up half-naked in a chair at our lake house. “Please, listen to me. It was—”
“Five seconds, Rowen.” My father pushes away from the dock, clouds rolling in above us.
Glancing at Rye, he glares at my father, but he doesn’t move, his hands in his pockets. I try to reason with my parents. “Let me explain what happened!"
“Suit yourself,” my father says to Rye, the boat moving further and further from the dock.
“Guys, wait!” My foot leaves the dock next, stepping off the wooden plank. Two long arms wrap around me, stopping me from going further.
“Let them go.” Rye’s voice lands in my ear, his grip firm as I watch my parents sail off. Without me.
I try to wiggle out of his hold, but he squeezes tighter. “This is all your fault!” And that gets me dropped onto the small wooden dock, my ass landing with a thud.
“Explain to me how your father leaving you on an island is my fault?” He crouches to meet my gaze. “Because I don’t see the math.”
“You’re the one who took that photo.” Pushing off the ground, I stand to my feet in time to watch my parents sail off in the distance. They don’t even look back. Not once. My voice cracks. “You’re the reason we’re here!”
“I should’ve gone with your father.” The sound of a flicking lighter comes from behind me, and when I turn to face him, he brings a cigarette to his lips.
“I’m surprised you didn’t jump at the chance.” More clouds cover the sky as the sun starts to disappear, but I’m too heated to care. “Why the hell didn’t you just leave?”
He doesn’t answer me. He just reaches into his slacks, pulling out his phone. He raises it to the sky and in seconds, lowers it, his jaw working. “Is there no service here?”
“All the money and power in the world, and you can’t even call for help, huh?”
“I’ll figure it out.” He puffs his cigarette, looking up at the clouds rolling in. “I just need time.”
“Like the time you had to send that photo to my father?”
“You know, you should trust the only person on your side right now.” Thunder crackles above us, but it doesn’t make him flinch. He just stares into my soul.
“Trust you?” When I step to his face, he doesn’t move, a droplet falling on my cheek. “How stupid do you think I am?”
“Really stupid if you don’t get out of my face.” Lightning strikes, lighting up one side of his sharp, tightened jaw.
I step closer, another droplet on my forehead. “Make me.”
“You won’t like it if I make you.” His glare sharpens, the wind picking up around us.
The air thickens before the sky breaks and sheets of rain begin to pour.
Cold raindrops attack my skin, my hands coming to my arms. Rye smirks, and all I can do is scream. “This is all your fault!”
“The rain?” His mocking tone extends over the growing storm. “You sound crazier than usual.”
"You make me crazy!" Lifting my head, I let the rain drench me, my dress sticking to my body along with my hair. A chill rips through my bones, my muscles as tight as my mother’s facelift.
Is this karma for all the pranks I pulled? All the shit I did in high school? The last thing I want to be is on a stormy island with my enemy.
How could they leave me here?
How could they leave me here with him?
Something lands over my shoulders. It’s wet, but it covers my arms and the front of my dress, adding a bit of warmth.
Lowering my head, Rye has nothing over those sculpted, rippling abs. He runs a wet hand through his soaked hair and, for a moment, I’m mesmerized again. The rain makes him shine like he’s all oiled up, and when the lightning strikes again, it’s like his body sparkles.
“Come on,” he says, that glare softening. “Let’s get under some shelter.”
“Where do you suggest we do that?” Spreading my arms wide, I give him the full tour of our island. A small patch of land that, by day, looks romantic for a picnic or a swim. Comfort doesn’t extend beyond that, and now, with night rolling in, there’s nowhere to rest or hide.
Rye moves over to a nearby cluster of trees, leaning against one of them.
My hands back on my arms, I move over with him as he reaches into his pockets for his pack of cigarettes.
It’s soaked, but he pulls one out anyway, soggy and limp.
His head falls against the large trunk, and it’s hard to contain my laugh.
“This is funny to you?” he asks.
“We’re here because of you, so yeah.”
“Accountability still isn’t your strong point, huh?”
“Oh, you’re one to talk.”
He lifts his head, that glare back. “You think you’re the only one your father fucked over today?”
“No, he continues to fuck over my mother,” I bite back. “That’s why I should be on that boat. Instead, I’m here, soaked, with you. So thanks.”
“I got things to handle,” he sighs. “When is your punishment over?”
Heat strikes my cheeks, our conversation in the kitchen rolling back to me. “Wh-what?”
You’ll piss me off again. And I’ll want to punish you.
“Focus.” That smirk is back, so is the flirt in his voice. “When should we expect your father to come back?”
“I-I don’t know.” The fire lifts out of me, something else filling that space instead. Looking at Rye, he stares at me in a way that feels like pity, and I want to shake it right off. So I do. “Thanks to you and your jerk-ish asshole-ry.”
“If I’m such a jerk-ish asshole, why am I here?”
“To watch me suffer.” Turning around, I take a few steps away from the tree, a tight feeling in my throat. This small island is suffocating.
He’s suffocating.
A hand wraps around my wrist, tugging me back. He’s so strong that I slam against his chest. He stares into my eyes with this intensity that threatens to swallow me alive. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, but sharp. “Watching you suffer would be leaving your father to it.”
“Then why did you send that photo?”
“I didn’t send the photo, Hannah.” The air stills, my brows knitting as the wind howls around us.
“You’re lying.” My stomach knots.
If he didn’t send it, then who the hell did?
“You really think I’d orchestrate all this to be here on this island with you?
” he asks. “You really think I’d leave my sister with my father if I didn’t have to?
You think I’d stomach that?” The look in his eyes shifts, like I’m the one causing him pain.
My mind flashes back to the party. Krystal’s face. The way he pounded into Vince.
Shaking my head, I remind him that I know who he is. “You’re just that kind of guy, Rye.”
His head tilts to the side, his eyes darting around my face. “And what kind of guy is that, Han?”
“The guy who’ll burn the world to keep himself on top.
” This semester flickers through my brain.
He’s fucked with me so much, but right now, with his warm chest against mine, the rain falling around us, all I can remember is how good he’s made me feel between it.
This morning. This afternoon with my father.
Coach’s office. Hell, even the party with a picture I’m paying for.
Maybe I don't know who he is. It's all starting to blur.
“You’d do the same.” His face comes closer and I can feel every word on my lip. “Admit it, Hannah. At the end of the day, you’re just like me.”
“I-I’m not.” I hate the way my voice shakes, his warm breath like a soft caress. “I hate people like you. I hate you.”
“Prove it.” His eyes drop to my lips, lingering on them.
My breath hitches.
My body stills.
Before I know it, he closes the small distance between us and his lips smash into mine.