Chapter 30 Lexi
Lexi
“Stay the fuck away from me!”
My voice bounces off the stone walls, too loud for the space, echoing back at me like mockery.
Atticus only laughs. Slow. Taunting. The sound of a predator who’s already cornered his prey and knows it.
He steps toward me. I step back. The bed’s between us—the only barrier I have—and I keep it that way.
I’m trembling, and it’s not from fear entirely.
But from the memory that won’t leave me alone.
Him pressed against me. The smell of his skin, the look in his green eyes, the weight of his body.
This man is made of hard steel and if I let him get close, I’m going to enjoy whatever he decides to do with me.
The most fucked up part is that he knows it. I can tell by the way his eyes track mine, by the slight curl of his mouth. The flicker of lust behind those cold green eyes.
“You want me,” he says.
“Shut up.”
He tilts his head, grin razor-sharp. “Stop pretending you don’t. I can see it in your eyes.”
Because you’re disgustingly good looking. It’s surface-level. But I don’t say that, instead, I say, “Stay away from me.”
He moves faster than I expect. I spin, trying to put more distance between us, but he’s already in my space. His hand curls around my wrist as he drags me forward.
I try to twist out of his grip and fail. My feet stumble over themselves as he pulls me closer.
His breath ghosts across my ear when he whispers, “Got you.”
My heart slams against my ribs. “What the hell do you guys want with me anyway? I just want to go––”
He throws me onto the bed like I weigh nothing. My heart races. Jesus Christ.
I scramble across the sheets, trying to get to the other side, but he catches my ankles and yanks me down hard. The sheets twist around me. I kick him and curse him out, but he’s stronger. He pins my wrists above my head with one hand. The other braces beside my head, caging me in.
I stare into those eyes and feel like every nerve in my body is on fire. His eyes flick down to my chest, and I inhale, unable to handle the weight of his gaze. His jaw clenches and before he can touch me, the door flies open.
“Having fun, are we?” Revan’s voice slices through the tension.
Atticus stiffens but doesn’t move. He doesn’t get off me. Just turns his head slightly to acknowledge Revan’s presence.
Revan steps into the room, calm as always, his shadow stretching long across the bed. “Get off her.”
For once, Atticus listens.
He pushes off me and stands back, hands sliding into his pockets, expression unreadable. But his eyes stay on me. Hungry. Dark. Like he’s already planning the next time.
I scramble up, hugging my knees to my chest, keeping my distance from both of them.
Atticus lingers against the wall, watching me with that same intensity that makes my skin crawl and heat at the same time. I hate that it does both.
Revan drags a chair from the corner and sits facing me. “Lexi, Lexi,” he says lightly, like we’re old friends catching up. “We need to talk.”
“Finally. What the hell is it so I can get back to my dorm? I have classes in the morning.”
He smiles. “You’re not going back.”
I scoff. “Revan? Rev? Revy?” I flash him a sarcastic grin because he doesn’t get it. I don’t play by his fucking rulebook. “We’ve had our fun. I helped you, you helped me, so let’s talk. I can’t afford to miss my classes tomorrow.”
He claps his hands together. “Your dad.”
It takes one second to register what he means and then I burst out laughing. I don’t bother to cover my mouth as I throw my head back and laughter leaves my throat. “My dad? Oh, man.”
Revan doesn’t blink. Doesn’t smile. Just watches me with those calculating eyes.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I step off the bed with a smile on my face.
“You could slice my neck open in this room. I could bleed out all over this pretty floor.” My hands gesture, painting the picture.
“It’d make the news, headlines nationwide, and my dad?
” My voice goes cold, bitter. “That man wouldn’t even shed a tear.
He wouldn’t come out of hiding.” I pause. “He’s dead to me.”
Revan watches me carefully. “When was the last time you saw him?”
I bark out a humorless laugh. “You really want to know?”
He doesn’t answer. Just waits.
“When my mom died.” My voice softens, tightens around the words.
“He grabbed his meth pipe from under the couch and blamed me and my brother for everything. For her. For him. For being a fucking pathetic piece of shit!” I raise my brows at him.
“He left her dead in that room with us,” I continue, voice flat now.
Empty. “So, no. I don’t know where he is, and I don’t give a flying fuck. ”
“Feisty,” Revan murmurs and takes a moment to think. And then he stands, making me remember his height against mine. He has about a foot on me. I’m not even that short for a woman. He lifts his hand and reaches for my face.
I smack his hand away. Hard.
His other hand comes up—firmer this time—catching my jaw. Forcing me to look at him.
“Now,” he says, “about that boyfriend of yours.”
“Oh my god.” I groan, rolling my eyes despite his grip on my face. “You are obsessed with him.”
He smirks, tightening his hold just slightly. “Do you like to get high?”
I push against his chest at his stupid fucking question. “Do you?”
“Ah.” His grin widens. “There it is. The pain point.”
He studies me like I’m a puzzle he’s trying to solve. Like every reaction I give him is a piece clicking into place. I hate that he can read me so easily.
“Do you know what your boyfriend really does?” he asks, and I’m suddenly aware of what’s happening now.
I divert the conversation, remembering how Koa treated me. Is he evil? Hell yes. Was he kind enough to ask for kisses and wait for me to make the first move? Yes. These assholes don’t compare to a man like him.
So, I say, “I know he’s insane, and he’s probably looking for me right now.”
Revan’s grin turns slow. Dangerous. I hate this it lights his face up. “Oh, he’s definitely looking for you.” He wipes a smear of blood from his knuckle. “Sorry to break it to you, baby, but you’re stuck with us until this thing blows over.”
My stomach flips, and I ask in frustration, “What thing blows over?”
“When your boyfriend sets up the meeting.”
The words hit me like ice water. “Meeting?”
Neither of them answers.
Revan nods at Atticus. “Lock it.”
They move toward the door, and I’m too annoyed to follow. Begging them won’t get me anywhere, and I count my lucky stars that I’m locked in a basement right now.
The door shuts. The lock slides into place.
I’m grateful for it. Grateful to be alone.
I stand in the silence as my pulse hammers in my ears. Meeting? What meeting?
Exhaustion crashes over me like a wave. My legs give out, and I sink onto the bed—the same one Atticus threw me onto, the same one I thought I’d never see again.
I lie down fully clothed, shoes still on, too tired to care.
I dream fast and hard.
Revan’s laugh echoing through darkness. Atticus’s eyes burning into mine. Koa’s hands reaching for me before fading into smoke.
In the dream, I’m running barefoot through a forest I don’t recognize. Branches scratch at my arms. My feet bleed on sharp sticks and rocks.
Revan’s voice calls my name from somewhere behind me. Then Atticus’s. Then Koa’s.
I fall into Koa’s arms. He’s warm, safe, solid, and then I realize he’s bleeding. His blood soaks through my shirt, hot and sticky, and I can’t stop it. Can’t save him. I’m screaming as he bleeds, apologizing that this is all my fault.
Then I’m tied to a tree in the middle of nowhere, screaming, and no one comes.
There’s a flash of Koa, Atticus, and Revan grinning at me, and then I open my eyes and see shadows above me. I start screaming in the pitch-black room.
I see movement in the corner. A thin stream of smoke curling upward, caught in the faint light from under the door.
A voice—low, gravelly, unfamiliar—speaks from the dark, “If you don’t cooperate and tell them what they need to know, you’re already dead.”
When I actually open my eyes this time, tears fall down my cheeks. My chest heaves. I’m panting, trying to catch my breath. I look in the corner and no one’s there. I sigh of relief, trying to catch my breath.
I press a shaking hand to my face. Just a nightmare. Just stress.
Was I asleep for twenty minutes? How can it still be dark out?
But I can still smell the smoke. Cigarettes and something else. Something I don’t recognize.
I don’t fall back asleep. Just lie there in the dark, eyes wide, trying to solve the puzzle.
What do they want from me? What meeting? What information?
When I hear movement outside my door—footsteps, voices—I stumble out of bed and start pounding the door.
“I need a shower!”
Nothing.
I bang again, harder, fist aching. “Please, I just—please!”
The lock clicks.
Revan opens the door. His hair’s damp, looking frustratingly put-together. “You could’ve just asked nicely,” he says.
I stare at him, confused. Did I hear him right?
He steps aside. “Be quick.”
I hesitate. “Really?”
He arches a brow. “Yeah. Now hurry that fine ass up.”
Heat floods my face. I grab a towel from the hook by the door and brush past him, trying not to make eye contact.
Atticus is leaning against the wall across the hall, watching me. Always watching. That half-lidded stare that makes my stomach twist into knots.
“Don’t,” I warn.
He smirks. “Didn’t say a word, love.”
“Yeah, well, stop thinking so loud.”
He’s not just looking at me. He’s undressing me with his eyes, remembering every inch of skin he touched, every sound I made. It’s written all over his face—in the slight part of his lips, the way his gaze lingers on my neck, my collarbone, lower.
Revan chuckles as I disappear into the bathroom.
Inside, I turn the water as hot as it’ll go.
The steam fills the small space, burning my lungs. I step under the spray and let it scald my skin until everything turns red.
I stand there, shaking, trying to wash away the feeling of Atticus’s hands. The memory of Revan’s touch. The image of Koa flying off that car hood.
Somewhere down the hall, voices murmur—men’s voices, low and serious.
I press my ear to the door, straining to catch a word. Anything.
All I hear is Revan saying, ”We need to get as much information as we can out of her.”
My blood runs cold.
They need something from me.
Something I can’t give them.
Because I don’t know where my father is. I really haven’t talked to him since the day Mom died. I don’t know a single thing about Koa’s business.
And if I can’t give them what they want, what happens to me?
My stomach sinks to the floor of the shower, water beating down on my back.
I’m trapped. Completely and utterly trapped.