CHAPTER 23 #2
I sucked in a lungful, coughed hard enough to see stars, then spat river water and bile into the grass. My wrists were still bound tight behind me, circulation long gone.
“Son of a bitch,” I rasped. My teeth chattered so hard it hurt.
The only thought that made it through the fog was that I had to get warm. Fast.
I forced myself upright, swaying as the world tilted and steadied again. The river had carried me past the docks, but they weren’t far—just a dark line down the shoreline.
My feet protested with every step, skin splitting against gravel and frozen mud. The air bit at every inch of my exposed body, the wind slicing through me like I didn’t have skin at all.
Maybe my stuff’s still there. The thought barely registered as hope, more instinct than belief.
By the time I reached the boards, my body felt foreign, heavy and shaking. My bare feet slapped against the wet wood, pain flaring up my legs with every step. My breath came in ragged white bursts as I made it to the spot where I’d been attacked.
Nothing.
No hoodie. No sweatpants. No wallet or phone.
Just empty boards and the black river below.
My pulse hammered in my ears. The cold wasn’t an ache anymore—it was an invasion.
The bastards had taken everything.
Of course they had. The Sphinx didn’t do anything halfway.
I just didn’t know what the hell this one was supposed to test—other than how not to die.
I stared out at the water, teeth chattering so hard my jaw ached, reminding myself why I was doing this. Why I needed in. Connections. Protection. Power. Things I couldn’t afford not to have…especially with what my dad and Kenton had started.
But if one of those masked freaks showed up right then, I was pretty sure I’d try to kill them. Naked and freezing or not.
I stood there for another minute, shivering so hard my vision blurred, waiting for someone to jump out and yell surprise or congratulations, you survived.
Nothing.
Just the wind, the river, and the sound of my teeth clacking like castanets.
A bitter laugh scraped out of my throat.
Guess that was it. Trial complete.
I looked down at myself—covered in mud, rope still cutting into my wrists, every inch of me frozen solid. My dignity had packed up and drowned somewhere upstream.
With a sigh that came out more like a groan, I started walking.
Because apparently, the only thing left to do was make the long, humiliating trek home.
Naked. Bound.
Frozen dick and all.
The walk back was pure hell.
Every step sent spikes of pain up my bare feet, the rope still biting into my wrists. The wind knifed against my skin, my body shaking so violently I half expected to shatter on the pavement.
Somewhere in the distance, music started pounding through the night, loud, ridiculous, and way too dramatic for two in the morning.
Bonnie Tyler. “Holding Out for a Hero.”
Odd choice of song.
Headlights appeared a second later, bright and blinding, cutting through the dark. I squinted, wondering if I needed to throw myself into the ditch because it was another masked madman coming back for round two.
And also wondering if I was even capable of doing something like that.
But the vehicle wasn’t slowing down.
It roared closer, the song getting louder, until I could make out the shape of a Jeep.
A familiar Jeep.
I blinked once. And then blinked again.
Was I hallucinating?
Because through the windshield, I could see a familiar-looking guy in a baseball cap drumming on the steering wheel, singing at the top of his lungs—completely oblivious to the naked, half-frozen idiot standing in the road.
The Jeep continued to approach, and the driver finally locked eyes with me.
Jace.
His jaw dropped, eyes bugging out, disbelief written all over his face. The Jeep shot past, tires screeching as he slammed the brakes a few yards too late.
For a second, I just stood there, blinking at the taillights, too tired and frozen to move.
Then the tires squealed again as he threw it into reverse, “Holding Out for a Hero” still blasting at full volume. The Jeep fishtailed, spun halfway, then roared back toward me.
I didn’t even bother walking to meet it. I just waited.
Because if I’d made it this far naked, bound, and half dead, the least my best friend could do was come the last ten feet.
The Jeep skidded to a stop in front of where I was standing, tires squealing one last time before the engine idled. Bonnie Tyler was still belting her heart out about needing a hero, the lyrics echoing through the empty road like the soundtrack to my humiliation.
The driver’s door flew open, and Jace jumped out, slamming it closed behind him.
“Matty?” His voice was pitched halfway between disbelief and panic as he raced toward me…before freezing mid-step, eyes darting down and then immediately away like he’d seen something medically concerning.
“Yes. I know I’m naked, caked in mud, my hands are tied behind my back, and I probably look like the before picture in a very illegal experiment. But please, take me home,” I growled.
“What the hell did the Sphinx do to you?” he demanded, his voice cracking. “Was this, like, a rebirth thing? Should I start chanting?”
I just stared at him, shivering so hard my vision blurred. “They tried to drown me, actually.”
Jace pressed a hand to his heart. “And to think, I was going to complain about how slow the seat warmers were in my Jeep. You win, buddy.”
I was too tired to try to punch him.
His smirk faltered at my silence, replaced by something that looked a lot like alarm. “Oh shit. You’re not just being dramatic. You actually almost died.”
I sighed and nodded, and his gaze swept over me again, like he was trying to decide whether to offer me a blanket or an exorcism. “Okay, okay, hang on. I’ve got you.”
He walked toward me and bent his knees, arms open, grimacing like this was the hardest thing he’d ever done.
I frowned. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I’m gonna carry you to the car,” he said, dead serious. “Just…maybe point that animal between your legs somewhere else. Even without that missing inch, it looks foreboding.”
I gaped at him. “Please don’t,” I managed to choke out, my teeth clacking around the words.
He froze mid-squat, shoulders sagging in relief. “Oh, thank fuck. I might never have recovered from that. But I want you to make a mental note in your best friendship hierarchy that I was prepared to do it.”
“Noted,” I grunted.
I stumbled forward a few steps before realizing I was still trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey. “Wait,” I called hoarsely. “Untie me first.”
Jace stopped, blinking like he’d only just noticed my wrists bound behind me. “Oh. Right. Good thing I’ve got all that survival training.”
I gave him a flat look. “One day watching Naked and Afraid doesn’t count, genius.”
“Excuse you,” he said, rummaging in his pocket for his keys. “I also watched the episode where the guy made fire with his shoelaces. I’m practically an expert. You’re lucky to have me.”
He crouched behind me, grumbling under his breath as he worked the knot. The rope had dried stiff against my skin, biting deeper every time he tugged.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “They really went full Fifty Shades on you, huh?”
“Just untie it.”
“Yeah, yeah, hold still—There.” The final pull burned like fire, and then the tension released. I dragged my arms forward, groaning as the muscles screamed, pins and needles flooding up to my shoulders.
Jace straightened, surveying me with a look somewhere between impressed and horrified. “You, my friend, look like every cautionary tale the university uses to warn athletes about extracurricular activities.”
I winced as I rotated my arms, trying to get the blood flowing again. “And you look like the guy who’s about to drive me home before I freeze to death.”
“On it.”
Jace jogged ahead to the Jeep, fumbling with his keys and muttering something about hazard pay. The dome light flicked on as he yanked the passenger door open, gesturing grandly like a chauffeur greeting royalty.
“Your chariot awaits, Ice Man.”
“Shut up,” I muttered, climbing in. The leather seat was blissfully warm, but the second I sat down, every frozen nerve in my body screamed in protest.
Jace cranked the heat, and warm air blasted from the vents like he was trying to dry me out before mildew set in.
“Okay, first of all, you’re paying to clean my Jeep because I like to have sex in here, and you currently smell like swamp rot and bad decisions. Second, are you sure you aren’t dying, because I take hauntings seriously and want to be prepared.”
“If I do die, tell people it was heroic. Not…whatever this is,” I muttered, teeth chattering.
“I’ll consider your request,” Jace said magnanimously.
I looked around the cab, desperate for anything resembling fabric. “You don’t have a sweatshirt or something?”
He scoffed. “Please. I keep my baby spotless. For said sex, obviously.”
I stared at him. “You’re unbelievable. And I know way too much about your and Riley’s sex life.”
He grinned. “I’m actually aspirational. And after the last few days, I’m pretty sure I know more about your sex life than you do about mine. I want that coffee cup sanitized, by the way, multiple times. Because it’s my favorite one, and now you’ve ruined it.”
I didn’t have enough blood flow to blush as I thought about what I’d used his coffee cup for, but I also made yet another commitment to get better locks on my door.
He threw the Jeep into drive, the tires screeching as we pulled away. “I wonder how I would explain this to a cop?” he mused.
I shut my eyes. “Tell him we lost a bet.”
“Oh sure. ‘Sorry, Officer, my best friend almost drowned in the Tennessee River this morning. He’s fine, though, look—his dick’s still threatening traffic.’”
“Fucking hell.”
The heater kicked harder, blowing enough warmth that the shivering finally dulled into a tremor. I leaned my head back, watching streetlights flicker through the windshield.