Chapter 6 - Dove
My nerves regroup as we step outside. Rain drizzles in misty sheets, and the cold wind pushes against us with salty breath.
Wolf grabs a flashlight and leads us along a paved path, the beam cutting through the dark.
Tucked beneath the evergreens, the guest house comes into view, close enough to the mansion to feel like part of the compound. The cozy two-story cottage matches its stone counterpart with accented wood, glass, and soft amber light.
He unlocks the door and flicks on a lamp.
It’s warm. Lived-in. Not overly fancy like the main house, but comfortable with a leather couch, open kitchen, and fire crackling in the wood stove.
Shouldering my backpack, I step inside and toe off my boots.
“The locks around here are solid.” Wolf shows me the keypad on the door and gives me the passcode. “The bedrooms are up there.” He motions toward the staircase. “Separate bathrooms, in case you’re worried about accidental defilement.”
“What about intentional defilement?”
“Say that again, but slower.” His eyes darken.
“That wasn’t an invitation.”
“Could’ve sworn I heard the mating call of a dove.” He arches a brow. “What? Didn’t say I would accept it.”
“The answer is no.”
“What was the question?”
I brush past him and take the stairs two at a time. Peeking into each doorway, I choose the room less lived-in and drop my bag on the bed.
When I spin back around, I come face-to-chest with the intoxicating scent of leather and tobacco. My nose bounces off a hard pectoral, and I swallow a gasp.
Christ, he’s overwhelming, taking up space, and sucking all the oxygen.
What does he want?
Shit, did I pick the wrong room?
“You’re not sleeping here, right?” I crane my neck to meet his eyes.
“You want me to?”
“No,” I say too fast.
“Keep flirting with me, and I’ll have you back in that wedding dress and wearing my ring.”
“I’m not flirting.”
“Careful, Runaway. Mixed signals are my kink.”
“You’ve lost your mind.”
“Says the woman who ran from her wedding to an island of naked strangers.”
“Get out.” I push him toward the door as if it’s my room, not his.
“Still don’t trust me?” He lets me manhandle him into the hall, his grin lopsided and eyes sparkling. Clearly enjoying the hell out of this.
“I don’t trust anyone.”
“Join the club. We meet on Tuesdays.”
I start to close the door in his face, but his expression stalls my hand, and I catch the door mid-swing.
A beat of silence pulses between us, our gazes locked. Too loud and intimate.
“For what it’s worth…” He grips the doorframe overhead, inadvertently flexing his forearms. “I haven’t lied to you.”
He’s underselling it.
From the moment I met him, he protected me, lost his job for me, fed me, gave me a place to sleep, and shared personal details about his life.
I’ve given nothing in return. No answers. No trust. No repayment. The least I could do is fuck him into a mindless coma. It wouldn’t be a hardship. Just thinking about riding his sexy body ignites a greedy little throb between my legs.
But that’s not why he’s helping me.
Being alone sucks. That’s the reason.
Wouldn’t kill me to give him something.
“I’m a mechanic.” I release my hold on the door. “I used to have my own garage. Specialized in vintage engines, mostly.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. But the garage burned to the ground. I lost everything. Then I met Gavin, and he was going to help me rebuild after the wedding. Turns out, he’s so broke that he took a bribe to marry me. I can’t go back to California. I have nothing there. Nothing worth salvaging.”
He studies me quietly, all sarcasm gone.
“I need a job,” I say. “I need to earn and save and start over somewhere.”
“You can work here.”
“Doing what? Fixing all the cars on your private island?”
“No.” He laughs. “I meant in town. You can ride with me and look for work when I go to the tattoo shop tomorrow to get my apprenticeship back.”
“Okay.” My shoulders relax. “I’ll do that.”
“We should swap numbers.”
I grab my phone from my backpack, ignoring the missed messages from Jag and Gavin.
Once our numbers are stored, Wolf reaches for the door and pauses with his hand on the knob. “There’s food in the fridge downstairs. Bathroom’s stocked. If you need anything, I’m right next door.”
“Thanks.”
He gives me a long look. Not flirtatious. Not even overly curious. Just… Present. Like he sees me. “You’re not okay.”
“I will be.”
“The island blocks cell signals and scrambles outgoing data. Jag can’t track you here. Even if he did, the island is more heavily guarded than Area 51. No one can abduct you. Not even little green men.” He shrugs. “After what we survived, my family doesn’t fuck around.”
“Good to know.”
He nods once and closes the door behind him.
I crawl onto the soft, oversized bed, covers pulled tight, and melt into the scent of Wolf all around me. That shouldn’t comfort me, goddammit. But it does.
Sleep doesn’t come.
My mind spins, replaying Gavin’s betrayal on a loop. His confession. The one-year whirlwind of dates and promises and polished lies. The horrified look on his face when I packed my bag and left.
He thought I’d still marry him. Like love meant I had to forgive him.
I did love him. That much is true.
But I’m not heartbroken.
I’m fucking furious.
Furious at him.
Furious at myself for letting it happen again. For trusting the wrong people. For thinking this time would be different.
My phone lights up on the nightstand, a steady pulse in the dark, the notifications on silent.
I know who it is.
Jag and Gavin.
Fuck them both to hell.
I roll onto my side, yanking the blanket over my shoulder like it can block out their energy.
It doesn’t help. The light flashes again.
I don’t want to look.
I really, really don’t want to look.
But if I don’t answer, it’ll only make Jag more unhinged.
I reach over, grab the phone, and unlock the screen.
47 unread messages.
Gavin:
Please talk to me.
I messed up. I know that. But you’re overreacting.
It’s over with him. Completely done.
I love you. Doesn’t that mean anything?
Don’t throw everything away because of a mistake.
You’re being cruel.
I’m not the enemy.
You left me.
You don’t get to disappear.
You’re being dramatic. Come home.
Answer me.
Don’t make me come find you.
I clench my jaw. That last one chafes my ass.
Don’t make me come find you?
Like I’m the problem. Like I’m the one who broke him.
I scroll past the rest without reading, knowing the rhythm. The shift from apology to guilt-tripping to threats.
Classic Gavin.
Petulant man-child.
Expelling a breath, I block his number and switch to the messages from Jag.
My scalp chills before I open them. Just seeing his name on the screen feels like a death threat, like he’s staring into my soul and watching me squirm.
Ridiculous. I trade out my phones regularly in case he installs sneaky tracker shit.
Same number. New phone. Location data off.
He can’t see me.
I open the chat.
Jag:
You think you can run? With him?
He can’t protect you.
I fucking raised you. You owe me. Every breath in your lungs is mine.
You don’t get to disappear. Not from me.
Does he know what kind of dirty little stray he dragged onto his yacht?
Get back here. Now.
You’re not thinking straight.
You’re acting like a cheap whore with a new leash.
If you fuck him, I’ll make him regret ever touching what’s mine.
I’m serious, Dove. Come back now. Or I’ll come get you.
You think an island can keep me out?
I built your fucking firewall. I am your firewall.
Don’t make me break it down.
I’m not playing anymore.
I’ve killed for you before.
Don’t make me do it again.
I sit up, clutching the phone, hands shaking.
He knows I left on the yacht.
He knows I’m with Wolf.
Of course, he does.
But he doesn’t know where I am.
Eleven-hundred islands.
And that?
That realization sparks not only fear but a sense of power I’ve never felt before.
For the first time in my life, Jag can’t see me.
He’s losing his mind behind the screen because the cameras he planted, the trackers, the tricks, none of them work here.
He’s blind. And that terrifies him.
I toss the phone face-down on the nightstand and press the heels of my hands to my eyes. My heart pounds like a jackhammer trying to drill its way out of my chest.
I’m so tempted to text back, How’s your hand? Just to push his buttons. To remind him that I’m not afraid to fight back.
But I don’t.
What if that one text pinpoints my location? What if he traces it? What if he already has?
By now, he’s done a deep dive into Wolf’s digital footprint. Wolf said he didn’t exist until six months ago, but his birth records, social media activity, hospitalizations, employment info at the tattoo shop—all of that will be used to track me down.
Not to mention, his billionaire father. Won’t be hard to determine which island Monty Novak owns.
I clench my fists and curl up beneath the blankets.
What scares me more than Jag is the stranger who pulled me out of the storm and dragged me onto his island of Alaskan gods. The stranger with ocean eyes and lickable lips.
Wolf talks about death like he spent a lifetime flirting with it. The same guy who made sure I had food, a place to sleep, and a door that locks.
He hasn’t tried anything.
Hasn’t pushed.
But he could.
The part of me that’s terrified of being touched again is still imagining his hands on me.
I hate that.
I hate how drawn I am to a man I don’t know, can’t trust, shouldn’t even want.
But there’s something about him. Something broken and brave. Something so deliciously wild. It calls to the worst parts of me. The reckless, self-destructive parts that scream for chaos when what I need is silence.
I close my eyes and grit my teeth.
No.
Nope.
Not again.
I didn’t run from one manipulative asshole to fall into the arms of another pretty disaster. I don’t care how captivating his eyes are. Or how solid his chest felt under that worn black shirt.
I need to get a job.
I need to get revenge on Jag.
I need to build a new life somewhere far, far away, where no one knows my name, where I can be more than the girl my brother tried to break.
Maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll forget what it feels like to want someone who could shatter me all over again.
I toss and turn and pull the blanket over my head, shutting out my past, my thoughts, and my attraction to toxic men.
I won’t respond to Gavin or Jag.
For now, that’s the only power I have.