OLIVIA
An existential crisis while standing on a balcony on an unmarked island after having my world rocked by an actual thief wasn’t on my bingo card.
But it happened, and I was sure as heck having one. It wasn’t just Jax, even though he was the catalyst. It was him and Molly and the future that awaited me, a future without either of them.
Panic clawed at my throat. It wasn’t that I didn’t want all those things Jax said—the white picket fence, the kids, the niceness.
It was that I’d never permitted myself to want anything else.
I was the girl who smiled at everyone, who got good grades and volunteered, who joined my sorority as a legacy, who became cheer captain by unanimous vote because I was organized and disciplined, and because my parents sponsored the team.
I wasn’t as good as Molly, who thrived on my parents’ approval. But I was good.
I was a good girl.
Who wanted to do really, really bad things.
Specifically to a six-foot-something deviant with dirty blond hair and busted knuckles and the kind of feral grin that belonged in a mugshot.
And then I just felt selfish. More than selfish.
I was a terrible person who had just found out that her sister was the victim of a human trafficking ring.
Grief had become my constant companion over the last two years.
I missed her every day. Every second. The only time I didn’t was when Jax touched me, when he literally brought me to my knees.
Without him, everything I’d been avoiding came crashing over me. The tunnels, the videos, the proof. The fact that my sister was probably dead—and that an awful part of me hoped she was.
But I wouldn’t give up my search. I’d come too far—crossed too many lines—to stop now.
I had Preacher waiting for me to deliver the proof.
He’d take the video and the names in the guestbook and use his terrifying influence to bring them down.
Bit by bit, we’d unravel the operation, and hopefully find whatever was left of Molly.
I wondered if Jax would be open to a new deal—
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening behind me.
Somehow, I knew it wasn’t Jax. My body tensed, sensing the demon at my back. “Of course it’s you,” I sighed.
“Thinking about jumping?”
He sounded more curious than alarmed. For some reason, it made me smile. There was something dependable about Madoc’s assholeness. While the rest of us burned in the fires of our own making, he just stood back and enjoyed the warmth.
I shot him a resigned look over my shoulder. “Would you stop me?”
He cocked his head in thought. “No,” he said after a minute. At least he gave it some consideration, I noted bitterly. “You wouldn’t die. It’s not high enough, and you’re conditioned to land on your feet.”
I fought another smile. God, I was broken.
“I wasn’t going to jump,” I said, even though my voice was shaky like a lie. “I was just…thinking.”
“About Jax?”
“Yes. And no.”
Madoc nodded like that made perfect sense. He leaned on the door, watching me curiously. I could probably live a thousand years and never understand what went on in that twisted brain.
Especially when he suddenly tossed my backpack at my feet. I could tell from its bulky shape that my binder was inside. I glared at it distrustfully. “There better not be a live snake in there.”
His mouth twitched. “Open it and find out.”
Against my better judgment, I knelt down and rifled through it. Everything was accounted for, minus my knife and chocolate. My binder was secured. My phone was in the hidden pocket. My suspicions rose.
“Did you go through my phone?”
“Yes,” he said, shamelessly.
Brilliant. I scowled and refused to check it in front of him. Whatever messages he’d seen would’ve been cryptic. Peacher had drilled into my head the importance of discretion in his line of work.
“Thanks,” I said sarcastically.
“Don’t thank me.”
“Whatever.” I almost said ‘sorry’ before my brain caught up and reminded me that Madoc was still Madoc, the knife-wielding, throat-squeezing, murderous psychopath.
He also saw you cum.
Thank you, brain. Warmth spread like a rash over my body, pooling at my cheeks, stinging my neck. I hugged my backpack to my front tightly like body armor. With Jax, I needed to shield my heart. With Madoc, I needed to shield my secrets.
“What do you want?” I asked him.
Madoc pursed his mouth in thought. It was a pretty mouth. An unhelpful observation, but true nonetheless.
“How does he taste?”
My heart stopped. “W-What?”
“You heard me.” His eyes glimmered with wicked amusement.
Suddenly jumping from the balcony seemed like the greatest idea I’d ever had. Anything to spare me from this.
I floundered, then stuttered out: “You can’t ask me that.”
“Why not?”
“Because!” My cheeks burned, even as I met his eye daringly. “It makes you sound jealous.”
His lips pursed, as if to say maybe.
Oh my god.
He couldn’t be…could he?
Abruptly, my brain was filled with visions of them…
together. Madoc pressed against the railing, Jax kissing him like his life depended on it.
The battle for dominance, the clashing teeth and violence.
Madoc with his hand wrapped around Jax’s throat.
Jax fisting Madoc’s inky dark hair, forcing his eyes up, daring him to—
“Something on your mind?” Madoc asked, still watching me intently.
My whole body was on fire. “Nope. Nothing.”
He moved so quickly that I had no time to react. One minute, he was by the door; the next, he was looming over me. He was everywhere, yet not a single part of him touched me.
“He likes you,” Madoc said in a soft, deadly voice.
I clutched my backpack tighter between us. “It didn’t mean anything.”
“I don’t like liars.”
I chewed my lip, and his eyes honed in on it with that same cutting intensity as earlier. I wasn’t bleeding this time, but I wondered what would happen if I just…bit down. Cut into the skin. Bled a little.
Girl. What.
I wrenched my head back with such force that I gave myself whiplash.
Madoc hummed, the sound mocking and satisfied, like a cat who’d finally caught the tricky mouse. He moved slowly, precisely, lifting his hand and touching my throat. Unlike all the other times, it was soft. Caressing.
Searching.
“You felt him here,” he said, ignoring the way I gulped nervously. “He’s big, but he used restraint. Good for him.”
My mouth dropped open. “You…?”
“Yes.” His eyes flashed. “I know everything about him.”
The possessiveness in his voice was unmistakable. The feeling it invoked in me was less so. My heart skipped, my face burned, and my knees were unsteady.
God, the absolute last thing I needed was to collapse at his feet.
I didn’t trust Madoc, especially with that unhinged look in his eye.
He was a textbook psychopath. Pretty and softly deceiving, possessive to the point of suffocating.
I didn’t know if I was a threat to him or another toy for him to obsess over.
I wasn’t sure I’d live long enough to find out.
“Stop,” I said, my voice weak.
“Stop what?”
“Whatever game this is. I’m not playing.” I lifted my chin, faking a confidence I definitely didn’t possess. “You want Jax? You can have him. Our deal is over anyway.”
Madoc tapped my chin in a light reprimand. “You have it all wrong.”
“Do I?”
“I don’t want anything.”
For some reason, I believed him. He was smiling, but there was nothing behind it, a mask over a blank canvas. The only insight was his alarmingly sharp eyes, seeing everything, all my faults and lies.
I almost wept in relief when Ryle appeared at the door behind Madoc. He looked between us with a knowing grin that I immediately wanted to slap away.
“So this is a thing now, huh?” he said, leering at Madoc, who tossed him a lazy look over his shoulder. “Man, and I thought Jax had it bad.”
I cringed as Madoc turned and headed toward the door like nothing happened.
“You tell her yet?” Ryle asked him.
Madoc, the jerk, just breezed on by without comment.
I was still trying to catch my breath.
“Tell me what?” I asked, winded.
“We got a new shipment arriving in thirty minutes. Well, less now.”
That made my lungs seize all over again. Ice swept through my veins, chasing away the heat. “More girls?”
“Presumably so.”
“How do you know?”
“Nate still has that dickhead’s phone. Turns out he was here to prepare the house for the drop.” But Ryle was still grinning, so I knew it wasn’t all bad news. “Jax called another war room. We’re going full Rambo on their assess.”
I nodded robotically. Ryle gave me a friendly bop on the head as I passed him, clearly sensing my malfunction.
The mood was instantly different upon returning to the war room. The atmosphere was electric, the kind of excitement that prefaced a homecoming game. I felt detached from it, an outsider.
Would this day ever end?
There was no hint of exhaustion in the crew. Even Nate had apparently found his second wind. They crowded around the dining table, their packs and equipment spread out like a smorgasbord of chaos. It was nearly sundown, the chandelier encasing the room in a warm, anticipatory glow.
Jax looked up where he stood at the head and caught my eye. Whatever he saw on my face hardened his own. I deliberately didn’t look at Madoc, feeling those laser eyes on me from across the room.
Jax crooked one gloved finger and beckoned me over.
Like a hopeless idiot, I went. When I stood before him, he faced me, and for a second I thought he was going to kiss me—a reassurance I’d gladly accept—but instead he reached for my hand and placed something cold in my palm.
“Yours,” he said.
I unfurled my fingers slowly and found a silver flash drive. My eyes instantly burned, and emotion clogged up my windpipe.
Evidence.
The very thing I had traveled across the country for. The reason I’d exposed myself to skeevy fisherman and sex dungeons and mouthy thugs with piercing eyes and bruised knuckles.
It didn’t feel real. Not him. Not any of it.