Chapter 73
CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
When Kyan said he was getting a boat, he wasn’t lying. We take the same path Wyatt saved me on and end up down at the water, where there’s a marina with a small motorboat. A fucking marina here this whole time?
It fills me with a brief bit of irrational rage that there was an out that had I run to the right part of the beach I could have found.
But Kyan herds us onto the boat, and that rage is replaced by a sense of dissociation when I step off the dock.
It’s a heavy weightlessness that’s only made more suffocating when Oakley grabs my hand and smiles.
Why was Oakley so insistent on saving me? Why did I just let go of my original suspicions? Is being a savior his kink? Or was there guilt involved, too?
I let my hand be limp in Oakley’s. Kyan stays with us, driving the boat.
Miles and Cali come too, while Sawyer and Ryder stay back to take care of anyone they may have missed.
When the others step onto the boat, Oakley’s hand is sweating, and I pull mine away.
As I do, he winces, and I get a twinge of guilt, followed quickly by anger.
Guilt? Over the man who possibly brought me here?
Oakley keeps sneaking glances at me and shifting on his seat like he’s sitting on bugs.
It makes anger grip my stomach and twist. Even Kyan notices, putting a heavy hand on Oakley’s shoulder.
But to my relief, once we get going, the wind and motor are so loud we can’t talk.
The wind whips by my face and hair, taking with it any energy I have.
I don’t want to talk; I just want to have a moment to figure things out.
We go for what feels like hours, and I’m hungry and exhausted with a buzz between my ears by the time the motor changes sounds.
I glance over the edge and see we’re approaching what looks like another island, and my heart sinks even further. Another island?
Miles and Cali lead us up the beach to a mossy path lined with boulders that leads to a two-story house with a flat roof and storm shutters.
Once inside, they try to explain where everything is.
I presume this is where they live, but all I can hear is the wind whipping in my ears, and it feels like the ground is moving like the water.
I recognize that I’m disassociating, and it makes me feel like I’m still playing the game.
But I kind of am, right? Oakley might not be who he says he is, and although we’re off the island, I’m certainly not safe. The thought makes me want to cry. I played that whole time for this?
So when I find myself in the spare room with Cali lending me some of her clothes, I can’t help but feel...empty.
“Oh dear, I can fix this.” Cali reaches her hand toward me, going for my throat.
I stumble back, raising my hands to push her away.
Cali doesn’t move; she just stands there with her hand extended. She shrugs it off, motioning at my hair.
“I used to be a hairdresser. If you want me to, that is.”
Slowly, very slowly, I realize she was reaching toward the section of hair that had been cut and was now sticking up from the wind.
My face burns. I look like a goddamn idiot. All I can do is nod.
“Sorry, we only have one bed. It’s hard to get to Walmart on the weekends.” Cali laughs, and my brain moves in slow motion.
One bed. As in, one bed for all of us. Oakley, Kyan, Wyatt, and I won’t be separated. For a second, relaxation washes over my body, and that makes me stiffen.
“Let me know if you need anything.”
Cali leaves, but I’m still focused on the relief I felt knowing the men would stay with me. Something is wrong with me. It feels a lot like I’m showing sympathy toward the people who kidnapped me, which sounds a lot like Stockholm.
I’m not showing sympathy, right? I’m just trying to survive.
And yet…
I force myself back into the present, trying to ground myself in the room. Bed with a gray comforter, plain white walls, and…fuck, what is that smell? It smells like old clothes and sweat.
I glance around, then down at my shoes. My dirty shoes that are nearly unrecognizable.
Fuck. That smell is me.
My face heats again. I don’t smell bad. That’s not me. Immediately, I move to the shower, cranking it on until steam fills the bathroom. I get in, letting the hot water roll over me.
I can’t believe I fucking showed weakness in front of Cali.
PTSD. This is PTSD.
I stay in the shower so long that it’s hard to breathe from all the steam. When I step out and dry off, I realize the only clothes I have are the dirty ones on the bathroom floor.
That paralyzes me, wrapped in my towel. I don’t want to wear those.
I’m not sure how long I stand there, but it’s long enough for the fog to clear from the bathroom mirror.
I can see myself in it now. I look older.
My eyes are more tired and yet wide at the same time, always looking around.
My cheekbones are sharper, and it feels like I haven’t smiled in years.
And I hate it. I found my confidence back in that house.
I stood up to Wyatt, and I navigated Kyan and the discovery that they are a system.
I beat the game. And for a second, I felt… okay. Where did it go?
I know the answer.
Oakley.
Was I okay at all? Maybe I lost the game the second I started showing sympathy to the people involved in my downfall.
Shaking my head, I try to break out of the thoughts.
Maybe there are spare clothes in the room.
When I go out, I see clothes on the dresser by the bed.
They’re a buttery-soft light blue pair of PJs.
The relief of having something that fits and isn’t my disgusting clothes is weird.
I let my head fall down and just breathe for a second.
I don’t want the PJs, though. They’d be an embarrassing outfit to get hunted down and killed in.
I’m paralyzed there for a minute. Finally, I just put them on.
There’s a soft noise outside the room, then a tiny, tiny knock, and still, I jump.
Somehow, I know it’s Oakley. Oakley doesn’t like to make waves.
He’s afraid it’ll mean people will leave him.
I’m guessing his childhood was full of inconsistent relationships, including the loss of one or both parents, considering he was in foster care.
He’s been trying to heal that wound ever since, throwing around those don’t-kick-me puppy eyes, hoping he’ll find the person to fill that hole.
What he hasn’t figured out is that he’s the only one who can heal that wound by deciding he loves himself and taking active steps to not betray himself. Like, not coming to an island to hunt and murder people. Like not bringing me here and lying about it.
Fuck.
I back up toward the bathroom and let out a breath. I can handle it if Oakley isn’t who he says he is. Right?
My chest squeezes. I can handle it. I just don’t want to. I got this stupid idea in my head that maybe there could be something…
“Holli?”
Oakley’s voice is soft.
I brace myself. Knowing is better than not knowing. So I open the bedroom door.
Oakley is standing there, two blue ICEEs in his hands.
I just stare at him; for some reason, the familiar treat looks so out of place here.
Oakley hands me one, not making eye contact. His cheeks are pink.
“I, uh…”
I don’t want one, but he’s putting it in my hand anyway, the chill of it cooling my fingers.
“I have something to say, so, uh…wait until the ICEE has melted to kill me?” Oakley fidgets. “Or don’t, I also brought a rock.” He scrambles to get something from his pocket and nods at the room. “May I?”
Robotically, I step back toward the bathroom again. Oakley puts the rock on the bed between us.
Oakley takes a shaky breath, his body language closed off and nervous, crossing his legs and keeping his arm over his torso. He looks like the Oakley I originally met, and yet he doesn’t. He looks more confident and less…lost.
“I saw you talking to Riley.”
I purse my lips, stomach sinking. Oakley looks too nervous for what he has to say to be anything good.
“I met her at The Hunter’s Club back when…I was lost. My ex broke up with me, and I wasn’t handling it well.” Oakley takes a deep breath and glances at me quickly, then back down to his treat. “Poppy?”
I blink at him.
“Poppy is my ex. She was… She went to therapy with you.”
I think back, my brain feeling like it’s moving through mud to access that information that doesn’t seem relevant. Slowly, I remember. Right. Poppy was going through a healing journey to prioritize herself. She was with Oakley?
“I… It’s my fault you’re here.”
The silence that follows his words hits me in the gut.
Riley was right? My gut instinct from day one was right. Slowly, I feel something in me crack.
“I signed up for a game. I thought it was some club thing and that it would make me feel better. I had to put…” Oakley trails off, and he frowns. “I had to put something that got between me and true love.” He cocks his head.
My heart is racing. Oakley put me down. He signed me up for the game. And I trusted him.
“Riley told me I had to put what stands between me and true love.” Oakley’s voice grows in anger. “But now I see that it was all a ruse to get me in the game. Because she was bored.”
“You signed me up?” The ICEE is making my fingers numb as well as my emotions. I trusted someone whose mission was to hurt me.
Oakley’s fingers have turned white.
“I…” I need to get away from him. I hoped it wasn’t true. Made every excuse in my mind, even though I knew it was true.
For a second, I consider snatching up that rock. But as soon as I think about it, I know I can’t do it. I can’t hurt Oakley.