Contents

Mr.Corporate
DESCRIPTION
Prologue-Weston
ChapterOne-Victoria-FiveDaysAgo
ChapterTwo-Weston
ChapterThree-Victoria
ChapterFour-Weston
ChapterFive-Victoria
ChapterSix-Weston
ChapterSeven-Victoria
ChapterEight-Weston
ChapterNine-Victoria
ChapterTen-Weston
ChapterEleven-Victoria
ChapterTwelve-Weston
ChapterThirteen-Victoria
ChapterFourteen-Weston
ChapterFifteen-Victoria
ChapterSixteen-Weston
ChapterSeventeen-Victoria
ChapterEighteen-Weston
ChapterNineteen-Victoria
ChapterTwenty-Weston
ChapterTwenty-One-Victoria
ChapterTwenty-Two-Weston
ChapterTwenty-Three-Victoria
ChapterTwenty-Four-Weston
ChapterTwenty-Five-Victoria
ChapterTwenty-Six-Weston
ChapterTwenty-Seven-Victoria
ChapterTwenty-Eight-Weston
ChapterTwenty-Nine-Victoria
ChapterThirty-Weston
ChapterThirty-One-Victoria
ChapterThirty-Two-Weston
ChapterThirty-Three-Victoria
ChapterThirty-Four-Weston
ChapterThirty-Five-Victoria
ChapterThirty-Six-Weston
ChapterThirty-Seven-Victoria
ChapterThirty-Eight-Weston
ChapterThirty-Nine-Victoria
ChapterForty-Weston
ChapterForty-One-Victoria

ChapterForty-Two-Weston
ChapterForty-Three-Victoria
ChapterForty-Four-Weston
ChapterForty-Five-Victoria
ChapterForty-Six-Weston
ChapterForty-Seven-Victoria
ChapterForty-Eight-Weston
Epilogue-Victoria
ENDOFBOOKSHIT
AbouttheAuthor

ByJ.A.Huss

EditedbyRJLocksley

Allrightsreserved.

ISBN-978-1-944475-08-6

Thisisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,businesses,places,eventsandincidentsareeitherthe

productsoftheauthor ’simaginationorusedinafictitiousmanner.Anyresemblancetoactual

persons,livingordead,oractualeventsispurelycoincidental.

DESCRIPTION

WestonConradisthebestheadhunterinthebusiness.Thathandsomesmilegoesalongwaytowards
convincingmostpeopletotrusthimwiththeirfuture.
I’mnotmostpeople.I’mhisdirectcompetition.Anditdoesn’thurttobejustthekindofwomanhe’s
beenlookingfor.
I’mgonnaflashyoutheselegs,WestonConrad.
I’mgonnawearlow-cutshirtsandmicro-miniskirts.
I’mgonnadazzleyouwithwitandconversationandkissthoselipslikethey’reexactlywhatI’vebeen
waitingfor.
Sodon’thatemewhenyoufigureoutmysecret.
Youunderstand,right?You’reMr.Corporateandthisisjustbusiness.

ALLBOOKSINTHISSERIESCANBEREADASASTANDALONE!

Prologue-Weston

“Sayit.”VictoriaAriasloomsoverme,herfeetplantedoneithersideofmyhips,seething.“Iwant

tohearyousayit.”

Shelookslikethestormthatjustpassed.Thatpoorlavendershirtisripplingintheremnantsofthe

wind.It’sruined.Andoutofnowhere,likeGodwasplayingatrickonusearlier,itstartstorain.
Hard,pouring-downrain.

“What’syourfuckingproblem?”Iask.“Justwhatthefuck,Tori?”
Shedrops,herasssittingonmydick,butnothingaboutthismomentsaysseductive.Sheslapsme

sixtimesintheface.Bothhands,oneaftertheother.Sixtimes.Bam,bam,bam,bam,bam,bam.

“Sayit!”Sheyellsitthistime.
ItastebloodinmymouthandreachuptowipeitawayasIlookherintheeyes.
Thosebeautifulvioleteyes.Thatwilddarkhairisstickingtoherfaceassherages.Andherbreasts

arepracticallyburstingoutofhershirt—thoselasttwobuttonshavenohopeofcontainingthem.

Anotherslap,andthistimeitstings.
“Stopit,”Isay,grabbingbothherwristsandpullingherdownontomychest.“Justfuckingstop

it.”

“Ihateyoumore,WestonConrad.”Hervoiceislow.Even.Controlled.“Ihateyoumorethanyou

willeverknowandIwanttohearyousayit.”

“WhyshouldIgiveintoyou?WhythefuckshouldI?Doyoureallythinkthisbadassattitudeyou

haveiscute,MissArias?Well,itisn’t.It’sfuckingold,OK?I’msickofit.I’msickofyou.AndI’m
notgivingyouwhatyouwant.Ever.”

Ipushheroffmeandgetup.I’mwet,I’mcoveredinsand,I’mhungry,I’mthirsty,andmydickhas

beenhardforthreedays.

“You’reacoward,”Victoriasays,herSouthAmericanaccentappearing.“You’reacowardanda

cheat.”

“Thatmakesnosense.AndI’mnotacheat.You’rethefuckingcheat.Howthehelldidyougethere,

huh,Victoria?Youcheated!”

She’sonherkneesnow,thatgoddamnedlavendershirtblowingopen.“Well,justgivemewhatI

want,WestonConrad.Andthenwecanpartwaysandneverseeeachotheragain.”

“I’mnotgivingyouthiscontract.Fuckthat.Iearnedit.You’retheonewhotriedtostealitfrom

me.”

“Idon’tjustwantthecontract,youidiot.Ineverwantedthecontract.Iwantedyou.”
Ijustblinkather.“What?”
“Did,”sheclarifies.“Idon’twantyouanymore.Iwouldn’twantyouifyouwerethelastmanon

Earth!”

“Oradesertedisland?”Isay,laughing.
Shethrowsahandfulofsandatme,butthewindcatchesitanditgoesinhereyes.Herhandsflyup

toherfaceasshedoublesoverinpain.

Fuck.
“Victoria,”Isay,droppingdowntoseeifshe’sOK.
She’snot.She’scrying.

“Victoria,”IsayagainasItrytopryherhandsoffherface.“Letmesee.”
Sheshakesherheadandstartstosniffle.“JusttellmewhatIwanttohear.”
“What?”Iask.“Whatthefuckareyouafter?Ican’tevermakeyouhappyformorethanafew

hours.Idon’tfuckingknowwhatyouwant!”

Shedropsherhandsandlooksmeintheface.“Ihateyoumore,WestonConrad.Ihateyoumore

thanyouhateme.AndIwanttohearyouadmitit.”

“Fine.”Ishrug.“Whatever.Youhatememore.WhatthefuckdoIcare?”
“Whatthefuckdoyoucare?”Hermakeupwaswashedoffintheraindaysago.There’snoleftover

mascaratostainherperfectcheekbones.Andherlipsarenaturallypinkandplump.Ican’tstop
lookingatthem.

Her.
Ican’tstoplookingather.
“Whyareyoudoingthis?”Iask.
“Iwantthatcontract.”
“No.Itoldyouno.HowmanytimesdoIhavetoexplainthistoyou?Itwasmycontracttobegin

with.Youfuckingcheated!”

“ButIneeditmore!”sheyells.
“IsaidI’dhelpyou,Tori.IalreadysaidI’dhelpyou,forfuck’ssake!”
“Don’tcallmethateveragain!”
JesusChrist.Whydoesshehavetobesowild?
“Ifyougivemethatcontract,Iwillgiveyousomethinginreturn.”
“What?”Iask.“WhatdoyoupossiblyhavethatIwant?”
“Me.”
Hereyessearchmine.Backandforth.Backandforth.Idowanther.Iwanthersofuckingbad.But

Ican’tgiveherthatcontract.Thatcontractisn’tevenenoughtofixherproblems.Butit’smine.It’s
mine,dammit.Ifit’sstillavailable,Icannotletherhaveit.Ijustcan’t.Ifsheendsupwiththiscontract,
myworldshifts.Andnotinagoodway.Shecan’thaveitandI’mtiredoftalkingaboutit.Thinking
aboutit.SoIchangethesubject.“Ithoughtyouwantedme?”

“Notanymore,”shesays,tippingherheaduptoregainsomeofherdignity.Andeventhoughmost

ofthepeopleonthisplanetwouldn’tbeabletoconjureupsomedignitywhilesittinghalf-naked,half-
starved,andhalf-satisfiedatthetailendofahurricane,VictoriaAriasmanages.“Imeannothingto
you,West.Youusedmelastnight.Youusedmejustlikeyouuseeveryoneelse.”Shepokesmeinthe
chesttoemphasizeherwords.“Andyouknowwhat?I’mtiredofyou,too.Youcheckedouttenyears
agoandnevercameback.TurnedintoMr.Corporateandsaid,‘Fuckyou,RhodeIsland.I’mgoingto
LA.’”

I’mjustabouttoopenmymouthandtellheroffwhenithitsme.She’sbeenmadatmethiswhole

time.Notbecausewebrokeup.Notbecausewecouldn’tmakethelong-distancerelationshipwork.
ButbecauseshethinksIleftherbehind.

ButIdon’tgetthechancetosayanyofthat.Becausethesoundofahelicoptercomesintorange.
“Here!”Victoriayells,jumpingtoherfeetandwavingherarms.“Here!Here!Here!Wearehere!”
Sheboltsdownthebeach,herperfectlegsstretchingoutintoafullrun,herdarkhairflyingout

behindherlikeabannerthatdaresmetofollowherintowar.

Iwanttofollowher.Iwanttothinksoanyway.IwanttobelievethatIcanfightherbattles,andtake

noprisoners,andcomeoutontheotherendawinner.

ButIdon’tbelieveit.
Becauseshedoesn’tneedanyonetofightherbattles.She’smadethatperfectlyclear.
AndIdon’tbelieveIcouldmatchherpassionandcommitmentanyway.Idon’tbelieveIcouldkeep

upwithher,tobehonest.Orholdontoher,orevenmakehertheslightestbithappy.Idon’tbelieveI
candoanythingrightwhenitcomestoVictoriaArias.

Andit’snotbecauseIfeellikesulkingagainstthewallatmyownpityparty.
It’sbecauseI’vehurthersomanytimesinthepast,it’sbecomeahabit.
It’sbecausewe’reinthisendlesspatternofdestruction.We’reatrainwreck.Aplanecrash.A

hurricaneofnothing-will-ever-come-of-this.

Ever.

ChapterOne-Victoria-FiveDaysAgo

“AriasCorp,bestheadhuntersinthebusiness,thisis…”Ihesitateandmakeupanameontheflyas

Isearchthroughthedrawersoftheemptyreceptionarea.“Cynthia.HowmayIdirectyourcall?”

“VictoriaArias,please.”
Hmmm.Idon’trecognizethevoice.“WhomayIsayiscalling?”
“Thatinformationisprivateandconfidential.ButIhaveinformationaboutacontractcomingup

forbidandIwishtodiscussitwithher.”

“Onemoment,”Isay.“I’llseeifshe’savailable.”
Ipushtheholdbuttonandplacethephonebackinthecradle,thencontinuemysearch.Whoever

thatiscanjustwaituntilI’mgoodandreadytoanswerthiscall.

“Victoria?”myfathercallsfrommyofficedownthehallway.
“Onesecond,Pops.Ihaveithere,IknowIdo.”
HeappearsjustasIfinishtalking,ascowlonhisface.“Whyareyoulookingforreceiptsatthe

receptiondesk?”

“It’sjustwhereI’mkeepingthemthesedays.Holdon,Ihaveit.”Ipullthebottomdraweroutand

pray.Please,please,pleaseletthisreceiptbeinhere.“Ah-ha!”IbeammyfatherasmileasIpullout
thepapersandstandup.“Iknewitwashere.”

“Wewouldn’thavethisproblemifyouweren’tpayingcashforeverything.”
“Look,Pop,Idon’tneedalecturetoday,OK?Ifoundthereceipt.Here.”
Hetakesitfrommyhand,thenshakeshishead.“Youknowwhatweneed.”
Oh,Iknowwhathethinksweneed.“I’mnotevendiscussingwhatyou’reproposing.AndI’mhurt

andfuriousthatyou’devenbringitup.”

MyPopslooksproperlyadmonished.Butthere’sadesperationinsideofhimthesedays.It’s

dangerous,thatdesperation.He’sseeingeverythingwe’vedoneoverthepastfewyearsslipawayand
he’sgotthatlookonhisface.AlookI’mveryfamiliarwith.AndnowIjustfeelsadthatit’scometo
this.

“Wedon’tjustneedmoney,Victoria.Weneeddirection.”
“What?”Howcouldhesaythat?Iamnottakingmoneyfromacriminal.Idon’tcarehow

desperateIget,he’soutofmylifeforgood.Iamneverlookingbackagain.Iamforward-thinking
now.“I’mthedirection,OK?Me.Iknowwherewe’regoingandIknowexactlywhatitwilltaketo
getthere.Justtrustme,I’vegotaplan.”

“Ihopeyourplanisaquickone.Themortgageisdueintwoweeks.We’regoingtolose

everythingandbeoutonthestreet.”

Whyishesomeanthesedays?Whydoeshesaythingslikethis?Iknowwe’reattheendthere.

Whatdoeshethink?IwokeuptodayandforgotI’mindebtuptomyears?Itakeadeepbreathand
smile.Idon’twanttofightwithhim.Notnow.Ican’t.“We’renotgoingtoloseanything.OK?”Ikiss
himonthecheekandtrytowalkaway,buthegrabsmyhand.Iclosemyeyesandsighbeforeturning
back.“What?”

“Youneedtocallhim.Atleastlistentotheoffer.”
“No.Andhowcanyouevenaskmetodothis?AftereverythingIdidtoputitbehindme?”My

Popshasabraintumor.Iknowhe’snotthinkingstraight,soItrynottoletitbugme.But…ofallthe

waystogoout,hehastogooutthinkingthatassholeis…what?SomekindofPrinceCharming?

Ifeelill.
“Iwillfigureitout,OK?Nowgo.I’vegotanimportantclientonhold.Ihavetotakethiscall.”
“I’mgoingtocallhim,Victoria,”myfathersays.
“No,”Isay,laughingitoff.“You’renot.You’regoingtogorestupandmeetmefordinnerinan

hour.That’swhatyou’regoingtodo.Understand?”IlovemyPops,butImightkillhimoverthis.

“Iknowhowproudyouare.Howyourefuseallhelpandwon’taccepthisoffers.Butweneedit,

Tori.Weneedit.”

“Notyetwedon’t,”Isay.“Notyet.IhavetwoweekstofigurethisshitoutandIwill,Pops.I

promise.Iwill.Justtrustme.Anddon’ttalktothatassholeagain!Imeanit!”

Idon’tgivehimtimetoreply,justwalkbacktomyofficeandclosemydoor.Iwaitthere,just

lookingoutthewindow.It’snotagreatview.Street-levelurban.Mixtureofcommercialand
residentialapartmentbuildings.IfIgooutsideandstandinthemiddleofthestreetIcanseethe
EmpireStateBuilding.ButIdidn’tgetthisofficefortheview.Ican’taffordaviewinNewYorkCity,
sowhytorturemyselfwantingone?

Idon’twantone.IjustwanttokeepwhatIhave,that’sall.
Myfatherthinkswedidn’tneedthissix-story,twelve-thousand-square-footbuilding.Atleastnot

yet.Butit’sManhattan.MidtownEast,butstill.Manhattan.Iboughtitinthemiddleofthereal-estate
crashfortwomillionunderaskingprice.Andit’sworthfifteenmilliontoday.ToobadI’veusedup
allmyequityinloans.ToobadallmycreditcardsaremaxedoutandIcan’tevenfixtheplumbingon
thefourthfloor.Toobadallmyideasandgoodintentionsareabouttoblowupinmyface.Toobad,
toobad,toobad.

Still,weareinManhattan.AndeventhoughBrooklynisnotthatfarawaydistance-wise,itfeels

liketheothersideoftheworld.

That’swhereitneedstostay.Ontheothersideoftheworld.
Manhattanwasadreamofmine.God,howbadlyIwantedtobeacrosstheriverwhenIwas

growingup.AndI’mthere.I’msothere.

We’reonthevergeofsomethingbig.Icanjustfeelit.Abreakthrough.Ijustneedaluckybreak,

that’sall.

Butmyfatherisrightaboutthemortgage.I’mbroke.AndalltheprogressI’vemadehasbeen

slowlyreceding.It’sslippingaway.Wearegoingbackwardsfast.EverythingI’veworkedforthese
lasttenyearsisslippingaway.Whyiseverythingsoexpensive?Whyiseverythingsocomplicated?I
feellikeI’mclose,too.That’sthepartthatsuckssobad.IfeellikeI’mthree-quartersofthewaythere
andIjustneedoneluckybreak.

Getittogether,Victoria.
Iwalktomydeskandsitdown,takeinadeepbreathandanswerthephone,lettingtheArgentinian

accentIpickedupfrommyfatherslipthroughalittlesothisguywon’tputtwoandtwotogetherand
knowI’mreallythereceptionist.“ThisisMissArias,howcanIhelpyou?”

“Ithink,”thedeepvoicesaysontheotherendofthecall,“thebetterquestionis…howIcanhelp

you,MissArias.Andthatphonyaccentisn’thidinganything.”

“Ibegyourpardon?”Justwhothefuckdoesthisguythinkheis?
“Let’sskipthesmalltalk,sinceyoufeltitnecessarytoletmewaitonholdwhileyoubrushedyour

hairorputyourlipstickon—”

“Excuseme?Look,Idon’tknowwhoyouare,butI’mabusywoman.And—”
“Quiet,MissArias.I’monlygoingtosaythisonce,sopleaselistencarefully.Ineedyouto

headhuntsomeoneforme.Someoneyouknow.SomeoneIwant.Butthisisn’tjustanyordinaryjob,
MissArias.It’salotmorethanthat.Andyourmoneyproblems—”

“Idon’thavemoneyproblems,”Ifinallysay,catchingupwiththeconversation.Hestunnedmefor

amoment.Men.Theyaresofullofthemselves.TheythinkI’lljustcowerandlistenquietlywhile—

“Don’twastemytime.Doyouwantmyinformation?Orcanyouaffordtoloseoutonplacing

someoneinajobthatpayssevenfigures?”

Jesus.Sevenfigures.Icouldn’tpayeverythingoffwiththatcommission,butitwouldkeepthings

afloatforalittlewhilelonger.

“Seven.Figures.MissArias.Areyouinterested?”
“Um…”WhatchoicedoIhave?MaybethisisasignthatI’mjustaboutthere.Justabouttogetto

thetopofthemountainandthengoingdowntheothersidewillbefastandquick.“Yes.”

“Areyousure?”
“Whoisthis?”
“It’snotimportant.WhatisimportantistheinformationIhave.AndwhatIneedfromyou.”
“Whatdoyouneed?”I’mkindofnervous.Thissounds…weird.
“Firstlet’stalkaboutwhatIcangiveyou.”
“Theplacementretainer?”
“Notaretainer.It’sacontingency.”
Ihuffoutsomeair.“Well,waytowastemytime.Idon’thavetheresourcestorecruitsomeonefor

aseven-figuresalaryrightnow.Notunlessthey’realreadyinManhattan.I’dhavetroublepayingmy
tollacrosstheMidtownTunnel.”

“It’snotManhattan.”
“ThenIcan’tcompete.”Aretainermeansyougetacontractandfilltheposition.Noother

headhunteristryingtofillthematthesametime.Acontingencymeansyou’recompetingwithother
firmstofillthesameposition.Ihateadmittingit,butIreallydon’thavetheresources.Mycarmight
berepossessedifIdon’tgetthebackpaymentsinsoon.Ican’tevenaffordtoparkthatthingatthis
point.I’mfucked.Goodandfucked.

“MissArias,”themansaysontheotherendofthephone.Howoldishe?Notveryold.Maybenot

evenasoldasme.Buthesureiscocky.

“What?”
“Aretainerisasurething.”
“Iknowthat,thanks.”Ishouldjusthangupnow.Idon’thavetimeforthis.
“Usually.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“IhaveitongoodauthoritythatSeaGlobalisinterestedinhiringawomantoheadhuntavery

specificpersonfortheiropenboardseat.”

“Andtheywantedme?”
“No.”Themanlaughs.Whyisthatfunny?“Ifoundoutabouttheirhesitationandthoughtofyou.”
“Butyouwon’ttellmewhoyouare?”
“It’snotimportant.WhatisimportantisthatyouareinSeaGlobal’smainofficeinMiami

tomorrowafternoon.”

“Whodotheywant?”
“WallaceArlingtontheThird.”
“Oh,you’vegottobekiddingme.HowthehellamIgoing—”
“MissArias,”thestrangersayssharply.“I’vebookedyouonaflightthisafternoonandafive-star

hoteltoholdyouoveruntiltomorrowafternoon.Thedetailshavebeensenttoyourphone.”

Justashesaysthis,myphonebuzzesonmydesk.“Whatthehellisgoingon?I’mnotevengoing

togetinthesamebuildingwithWallaceArlington,letalonesliphimacontractandaskifhe’dlike
metoplacehiminajob.AndIknowthatlittleasshole.Iwenttoschoolwithhim.”

“Exactly.Hehadathingforyou.”
“Whoisthis?DoIknowyou?”
“Youmight.ButI’mnotgoingtotellyouwhoIamandyouwillneverguess.Now,doyouwanta

chancetofillthatpositionornot?Becauseifso,Ineedsomethingfromyouinreturn.”

Hereitcomes.“What?”Iask.
“Iwantyoutoheadhuntsomeoneformeaswell.”
“Who?”Iask,thoroughlyintriguedatthispoint.
“It’sconfidential.Sogetyourassonthatplane,settleintothathotelthatyoucouldneverafford,

andgetyourcontract.I’llbeintouchlatertonight.”

ChapterTwo-Weston

TheviewofBiscayneBayfromthethirty-thirdfloorofthisMiamiofficebuildingisalmost

enoughtomakememovefromLA.

Almost.
Thedarkmahoganyhardwoodfloorsareinperfectcontrastwitheverythingelseintheoffice,

whichisstarkwhite.Theofficesareallglass-enclosed,andtheconferenceroom,whereI’mstanding,
hasanelaboratewhitetablewithchairsthatlooklikeglass.

MyofficeinLAisnice.Ihaveaviewoftheoceanaswell,butIdon’tgoalloutonthedécor.I

don’tdomuchbusinessintheoffice.That’swhatsetsmeapartfrommycompetitors.Icometothe
client.Everycontractissignedinperson,notonline.Iliketoscopeouteachandeveryoneofthem.

SeaGlobaldoesn’tneedmycriticaleye.Theyareatthepinnacleoftheirindustry.Theybuy

oceanfrontlandallovertheworldanddevelopsomeofthemostinnovativecommunitiesimaginable.
Thisofficeistheirshowroom.

ThetappingofdressshoesonthefloorpullsmeawayfromtheviewandthenLiamHenryisthere,

allsmiles,hisoldgrayeyesasbrightashiscasualMiamisuit,hishandreachingformine.

“Weston,”hesays,clappingmeonthebackasweshake.
“Hey,Liam.How’severything?”
“Good,”hesays,inthatsubtleSoutherndrawlyouonlyhearinFlorida.“Cannotcomplain,my

boy.How’syourfatherthesedays?Ihaven’ttalkedtohiminalongtime.”

“Oh,great,”Isay.“MymothersaystotellyouhiandthatyouandJenniebetterbeupattheCape

forLaborDay.”

“Can’twait.”Liamchuckles.“Welookforwardtoiteveryyear.”
“OK,well,Igotyourmessageanddidsomeresearch.WallaceArlingtonwon’tbeeasytoget,

that’sforsure.He’sfilthyrichandhe’sretired.”

“Thatissoridiculous,”Liamsays.“He’sthirty-fouryearsold.He’llbeboredbynextweekend.I

knowhe’stherightmanforthisjob,Weston.Wewanthim.Theboardhasalreadyvotedandtheyare
adamantthatwegethimontheteam.”

“WhichiswhyI’mhere.”IsmileasIwaitforLiamtooffermeaseatattheconferencetable.But

hedoesn’t.Andhehesitates.“Issomethingwrong?”Iask.

“No,”hesays,stillchuckling.“Notwrong,exactly.It’sjust…theboardisadamantthatwegethim,

Weston.”

“Understood.I’vegotmyfeelersoutandIhaveitongoodauthorityhe’llbesomewherespecific

tomorrowmorning.Iplanonmeetingthereandwrappingthisupovertheweekend.”

Liamsighs.Andshakeshishead.
“What?”Iask,gettingabadfeeling.
Thenpeoplearetalkinginthelobby.Theconferenceroomdoorisopen,sothisbitofbustle

knocksusoutoftheconversationandrefocusesourattentiontothenewarrival.

“Whatthefuck?”Isay,asVictoriaAriasstartswalkingtowardstheconferenceroom,hersmileso

bigshemighthaveacanaryinthere.“What’sshedoinghere?”

Liamshrugs.AndwhenToricomesin,greetinghimloudlyasshereachesforhishand,Ithinkthat

oldbastardactuallyblushes.

NotthatIblamehim.VictoriaAriasisstrikinglybeautiful.Tall,andcurvy,and…and…the

definitionofsexualwithherlow-cutimperialpurplepowerblousethataccentsherincredibleviolet
eyesandcontraststhemwithherraven-darkhair.

“Liam,”shereachesoutforhimwithbothhands,thenwaitsforhimtocometohersoshecanlean

inandgivehimfakeEuropeankissesonthecheek.Andthatfuckingaccentcomesthrough.One
word.She’sutteredonewordandeverythingaboutitisexoticanddangerous.Myeyesdroptoher
legs.Whicharefuckinglong.Andbare,sinceshe’swearingthistinyblackskirtthatsays,Liftmeup
andseewhat’swaitingforyou.

JesusChrist.Getittogether,Weston.
“Oh,Weston,”Torisays,herattentiononme.“Ihadnoideayouwouldbehere.”
She’susingthataccentonpurpose.ThatbitchcomesfromBrooklyn.Iknow.Iknoweverything

abouther.Includingjustexactlyhowlongthoselegsareandhowshecanbendlikeapretzelduring
sex.

IknowbecauseIdatedheronandoffforsixyearsafterallthatshitwentdownwiththecops.
ButI’vemadeapointtostayfar,farawayfromherforalongtimenow.Longtime.
She’sfuckingwild.Andnotinacuteway,either.She’swildinadangerousway.Shetookmedown

usingoneofherfancyjujitsumoveswhenIdidn’trememberourthirdanniversary.

Bitch.That’swhatsheis.
ButIsmileandsay,“Tori.Hownicetoseeyouagain.”
“Victoria,”shecorrectsme.“NoonecallsmeTori,West.”
“Weston,”Isay.“PeopledocallmeWest,butyou’renotoneofthem.”
“Ah,”Liamsays,smilingandwavingforustotakeaseatattheconferencetable.Webothdo,

Victoriaanglingherselfinherchairasshecrossesthosedamnlegs,rubbinghercalvestogether,like
she’sgettingherselfoff.“Youtwogobackalongway,right?”

“Yes,”Victoriasays.
“Yup,”Ireply.“Butwhat’sthisabout,Liam?Wehaveadeal.It’saretainer.It’salwaysaretainer.”
“Look,Weston,”Liamsays.“We’reinapicklehere,OK?Theboardhasspoken.Andthey’renot

sureyoucanpullthisoff.It’snoteasytogetWallaceArlington’sattention.”

WebothlookoveratTori,whohasnotroublegettinganyone’sattention.“Won’tbeaproblemfor

me,”shesays,unbuttoningthetopbuttonofhersilkblouseandtossingherhair.

Liamblusheslikeateenager.
Whatthefuckishappening?“Areyougivingthiscontracttoher?”
“No,no,no,”Liamsays.“It’sacontingency.Yourememberthose,right,Weston?Headhuntersgo

afterthesamepositionandthebestonewins.”

“Irememberthem,barely,”Iadd.“Sinceit’sbeeneightyearssinceItookoneon.Andyouknow

damnwell,”Isay,squintingmyeyesathim,“thatwe’veneverhadthatkindofarrangement.”

“Idon’tnormallydothemeither,”Torisays,distractingLiamfromthehiddenmeaningofmy

words.ThatfuckingArgentinianaccent.She’sdoingitonpurpose.Sheknowsitdrivesmecrazy.
“But…”ShestopstogiveLiamalongseductivegaze.“Iwasaskedtocomeandcompete.Isn’tthat
right,Liam?”

Whatthefuckishappening.Mymindspins.LikeactuallyspinsasIruneverypossiblereasonwhy

thiscouldbehappening.“Liam.”Isigh,tryingtosoundunaffectedandbored.“Look.IknowWallace
isadifficulttarget.Butwegowayback.Wewereinboardingschooltogether.Weevenwentto
Browntogether.He’sgonnalistentome.”

“WealsowenttoBrowntogether,Liam.Andyoumightnotknowthis,but—”Toricupsherhand

tohermouth,likeshe’sabouttowhisperasecretinLiam’sear,andsays,“Hehasathingforme.Has
hadoneforyears.Infact,WallaceandWestusedtofightovermeallthetime.”

Irollmyeyes.“That’snottrue.Youhadnointerestinhim.”
“ButIhaveinterestinhimnow,Mr.Conrad.”
“Mr.Conrad?Really?”
“Anyway,”Torisays,shakingherhairagain,“Icanhavehiminmylittlepocketandwrapthisup

byMonday.Iassureyou,Liam.Ipromise,Icandeliverthegoodsonthisjob.”

Liamclapshishandstogetherandgivesthemarubforgoodmeasure.“OK,I’msold.Thefirstone

backwithasignedoffergetsthedeal.Havefun,kids.”

Victoriagetstoherfeetandkisseshimonthecheekagain.
Igetupaswell,alittleflusteredathowthisretainerwasjuststolenfrommebymytraitorousex-

girlfriend,andshakehishand.“I’llbebackwiththecontractonSunday.”

“Good!Good!”Liamsays.“Pickupyourpacketsatthefrontdeskandwe’llseeyounextweek.”
Victoriasmilesashewalksaway.She’ssmilingthewholetime…untilhedisappearsintoanother

partoftheoffice.Andthensheturnshervenomtome.

“Stayoutofmyway,Mr.Corporate.Iwilltakeyoudown,boy.Down.”
Igrabherbythearmbeforeshecanfinishherdramaticescapeandleandownintoherear.“Miss

Arias.It’sspectaculartoseeyouagain.I’vemissedyou.Somuch.”

Sheslapsmeinthefacebeforethelastwordisoutofmymouth.“Nofunnybusiness,Weston.I’m

notthatinnocentgirlyouknewincollege.”

“Innocent,”Ibark,thenlaugh.“Innocent?Shit,Tori.Youcameoutofthewombarmedand

dangerous.You’veneverbeeninnocent.”

“Iwon’tfallforyouagain.Ever.Doyouunderstandme?”She’spointingherperiwinkle-bluenail

upintomyfaceasshesaysthis,andIhaveanurgetoslapherhandaway.

Control,Weston.Control.She’spushingallyourbuttons.
“Iwasjustbeingfriendly,”Isay.“Icanhandlealittlecompetition.Especiallyfromyou.”
“What’sthatmean?Don’tthinkIwon’tdoeverythinginmypowertogetthisretainer,West.Iwill.

I’mhungry.”Shelicksherlipsseductivelyandblowsmeakiss.“Very,veryhungryforthisjob.And
hungerwillwinovercomplacenceeverytime.You’recomplacent,Weston.Youthinkyouownthe
world.You’vealwaysthoughtyou’veownedtheworld.Well,nowit’smyturn.Stayoutofmyway.”

AndthenshespinsonthemostridiculouslyhighstilettoheelI’veeverseenandwalksoff.
Fuck.Fuck.Fuck.
I’mpissedoffandturnedonatthesametime.Thatfuckingslap,man.Sheknowsitdrivesme

crazywhenshe’swild.Crazy.

Andthewholetimeshe’schattingwiththereceptionistasshegathersherpacketup,Istareather

perfectlyroundassandthoselong,longlegs.

Stayfocused,Weston.
IpretendtotakeacallwhileTorifinishesup,thenmakemywaytothereceptiondesktopickup

mypacket.

Iknowshewon’twinthislittlecontest.Ihaveinsideinformation.Ihaveafriendinthespying

businessandbytheendofthedayI’llknowexactlywheretofindWallaceArlingtontomorrow—the
perfectopportunitytogethimaloneandgetthisshitfinishedbeforetheweekendevenstarts.

IpicturethephonecalltoTorioncethat’sdone.IrehearsemylinesinmymindasItakethe

elevatorbackdowntothevaletandgetinmycar.

I’mnotgoingdown.Sheis.
VictoriaAriaswillregretfuckingupthisjobforme.
I’mgoingtomakesureofit.

ChapterThree-Victoria

WestonConrad.Suchanamateur.
IhavetosmileasItrackhiscarthroughdowntownMiami.Whatdoeshetakemefor?Andhow

stupidcanhebe?ThattipyesterdaymightbethereasonI’mhererightnow,butmyintuitionand
tenacityarewhatwillgetmeacrossthefinishlinefirst.

HeweaveshiswaythroughtrafficandcrossesthePortMiamiCauseway.Whatishedoing?Where

ishegoing?IhaveahunchheknowsexactlywheretofindWallaceArlington.Hehadthatcocky
scowlonhisfaceupintheoffice.Iamveryfamiliarwiththatlook.Heuseditonmeoftenbackwhen
weweredatingandwewerefightingforcontrol.

“Tori,”he’dsay.Orifhewasreallypissedhe’dcallmeVictoria.“Victoria,”he’dsay.“Don’tplay

me,honey.Iknowallyourtricksandmore.”

Buthenevercountedonmetakingnotesofallhistricks.
Idid.Iknowthemall.Hell,Ihelpedcomeupwithmostofthem.AndIknowthatlookhegaveme

wasconfidence.

HepullsintoaparkinggaragenexttoacruiseshipterminalandIfollow.Ifhe’scheckingthe

rearviewmirror,Ididn’tnotice.Sohehasn’tmademeyet.Probablytoowrappedupinhisownego
toevenconsidermeathreat.

I’mathreat,baby.Justwatchout.
Wewindourwayupthegaragelevelsuntilthereareplentyofopenparkingspots,andthenhe

goesleftandIcontinueuponemorelevelandparkinthefirstspaceIfind.

Ijumpoutandtakeoffatajog,eventhoughmyheelsarehighenoughtobreakanankle.He’sjust

disappearingintotheconnectingbuildingwhenIcatchsightofhimagain.

It’sanentrancetoaCubancafe.
Istopatthedoor,catchmybreath,andshakemyhair.
Canyoufeelme,West?BecausehereIcome.
Ipullthedooropenandwalkintoahazyrestaurantfilledwithmeninsuits.
Thismustbethegoodol’boysclub.Ishould’vefigured.Westonhasgoodol’boywrittenallover

him.Oldmoneywithevenolderattitudesaboutwomen.Hewasalwaystryingtoprotectme.Tellme
todothingsformyowngood.Itwaspatronizingandborderlinesexist.Ihatedit.

Butwheneveryheadnearthefrontbarturnstolookatme,Iletitgo.I’musedtotheattentionof

men.It’snotmyfaultIwasbornlookingthisway.Itriedmybesttobeatomboyallgrowingup.Ijust
don’thavethebodyforit.SowhenIhitpubertyandmyaunttoldmetoplayupmybestassetsinstead
ofhidingthembehindbigshortsandloosepants,Itookheradvice.

Maybeit’scheating,maybeit’snot.ButhereIam,fifteenyearslater,stillinthegame,stillscoring

points,andstilllettingeveryonethinkI’mastupidbimbo.

Abeautifulwomancouldn’tpossiblyberuthless.
That’swhatIlikethemtothink.
ButIamruthless.Ineverywaythatcounts.AndIknowWestonConradisinthisrestaurant

somewherewiththeanswertoeveryproblemIhave.

AllIneedtodotogetthoseanswersisshowup.
Ismileatatableofgentlemenwearingcasualsuitsastheystoptheirbusinessandstare,butkeep

myeyeontheprize.

Whichismissingatthemoment.
Wheredidhego?
Ah.There’sthebastardnow.
WestslipsbehindascarletcurtainonthesideoftherestaurantthatfacesthewaterandIfollow.
Afewotherpeoplegothroughaswellandtheyareallgreetedbyname.
Hmmm.Whatisgoingonbehindthatcurtain?
“Excuseme?”Isaytothehoststandingguard.He’swearingadifferentkindofuniformfromthe

restoftheservers.Theyareallinblackpantsandwhiteshirts.Butthismanwearsasuitwitharedtie
andmatchingredpocketsquare.“MayIgothroughandlookformyhusband?”

IrealizetoolatethatIhavenoweddingbandonmyfingertoshoreupthelie,andevenasI’m

thinkingaboutbeingturnedaway,myhearthasalittleacheinit.

“Areyouontheguestlist?”heasks,smiling,eventhoughheknowsperfectlywellIamnotorI

wouldn’tbeaskingforpermission.

“No,butmyhusbandis.”Ihavemylefthandbehindmybacksohecan’tnoticeIhavenoring.
“I’msorry,ma’am,”thehostsays.“It’sinvitationonly.What’shisname?I’llseeifIcanfindhim.”
MyeyesdarttoanotherpartoftherestaurantandIsay,“Oh,thereheis!Nevermind,thankyou.”

AndIslipaway,hopingIdidn’tdrawtoomuchattentiontomyself.

Shit.IknowWestisintheregettinginfo.Hell,Wallacemightevenbethere.Ifheis,I’velost.
Think,Victoria.Think.
Igooutsideontothepatiowherepeopleareeatinganddrinkingunderneathlargecanvas

umbrellas,andwalkalonguntilIreachtheend.There’sakitchendoorproppedopen,soIlookover
myshouldertoseeifanyoneiswatching,thenopenitupandgoinside.

There’scommotionandbustleascooksandserversdotheirthing,butIraiseupmyheadandwalk

throughlikeIowntheplace.Everyoneglancestwice,butthat’sbecauseI’mabeautifulwoman.Not
becausetheyfeellikestoppingme.

Wherewasthatbackroom?Ibettheyhaveanentrancefromthekitchen.
Ispyaserverwiththesameredpocketsquareasthehost,andfollowthemdownahallwayand

throughaswingingdoor.Ononesideofthehallwayarerestrooms,theopenkindthathaveacurvy
wallmadeoutofstoneandnotthekindwithadoor.Ontheothersideisanotherdoor.

“Pleasedon’tletthisleadtothefront,”Imutter,duckingintothewomen’srestroomwhenthedoor

startstoswingopenagain.IturnaroundassoonasIgetaroundthecornerofthemarblewalland
headrightbackintothehallway,smilingattheservercarryingatrayasIlethimpasstowardsthe
kitchen.Ipushopenthedoorhecamethroughandsmile.

OK.I’min.Everyoneinherehasthatsameuniformon.SothisistheprivateareawhereWestonis

surelymeetingsomecontact.

Iscantheroom,whichispartitionedoffwithhand-paintedfoldingscreensdepictingscenesof

Cuba,butcomeupwithnoWestonConrad.

Dammit.Whereishe?
I’mjustabouttogiveupwhenIhearhisfamiliarlaugh.
He’sontheothersideofascreen.Andeventhoughthereareatleastfiftydinersinhere,nowthatI

knowhe’shere,Ican’tmisshim.Thatarrogantvoicecarriesthroughthescreenandacrosstheroom.
Ifindmyselfleaningintotrytohearwhathe’ssaying.Andinanothermoment,myfeetaretraveling
thatdirection.

HisvoicegrowslouderasIapproach,unseenbecauseofthescreen,andItakeaseatatatablethat

hasbeenrecentlyvacated.

Ilookaroundforaserver,buttheyareallbusy.

Ilookdownatthetablesettingandrealizethisissomekindofevent.Apartyorsomeluncheonfor

aclub.SoIrelaxandconcentrateonWeston’swords.

ChapterFour-Weston

“OK,”Isay,barelymanagingtocontainmybadmoodthroughthewholeMr.Mysteriousact

Paxtonputson.“Whatdoyouhaveforme?”Idon’tknowwhyPaxalwayshastofillmeinonhislife
thesedays.Buthedoes.It’salwayssomethingwiththisguy.Thesejobshetakes.Ican’tstandit.Iliked
himsomuchbetterwhenheignoredme.ButeversincethatwholethingwithMr.Romanticwent
downhe’sbeenover-sharinglikeamotherfucker.It’swaytoomuchTMIforme.

“Youdidn’tanswermyquestion,”Paxsays.
“Whatwasthequestionagain?”
“Wheredoyouseeyourselfinfiveyears?”
“What?”Iknowmyexpressionsays,Comethefuckon,butIholdittogether.PaxhasinfoIneed.

AndIneeditnow.BeforeVictoriagetsitfirst.Shehassomethinguphersleeve.Ordownherbra,
morelikely.“Shouldn’tIbeaskingyouthatquestion,Mysterious?I’mtheheadhunterhere.Besides,
I’montrack.Igotitallplanned.You,ontheotherhand,Ihavenoideawhatyou’redoing.”

“Igotatrack.I’vegotmanytracks,infact.”
“Nameone,”Isay,theannoyanceleakingthrough.
“Younameone.I’mtheonewhoasked.”
“Isthiswhatyouneedtofillmein?Fine.InfiveyearsI’vegoneglobal.I’vegotofficesinLA,

NewYork,London,Paris,Moscow,Berlin,HongKong,andTokyo.”

“Isthatwhereyou’reheaded?Global?”Paxtakesasipofhisdrink,whichisafuckingmintjulep

ofallthings,andIsuddenlyfeellikeI’mbeingplayed.

“Yeah,”Isay.“Global.I’vegottheLondonofficesetup.HongKongisnext.Andafterthat,it’son

toRussia.I’llbeinTokyoandParisinthreeyears.Hell,infiveyears,Imightretire.”

“Youeverthinkaboutdoingsomethingelse?”
Idon’thaveawordforthelookonmyfaceorthedepthofconfusioninmymind.“What?What

thefuckelsewouldIdo?Thisismyjob.Ifuckingrockthisjob.I’mheadingoutandmovingup.Why
thehellwouldIdosomethingelse?”

“Hey,”Paxsays.“I’mnotknockingit,man.I’mjustasking.”
“Why,areyou?Gonnadosomethingdifferent?”Iaskhim.
“Sure.WhythefuckwouldIbeafixerfortherestofmylife?Peoplegetold,Weston.Shitgets

old.Myshitisgettingold.I’mreadytodosomethingelse.”

“Likewhat?”
“Idunno,”Paxsays,sippingthatridiculousdrink.
Isheplayingme?
“Well,youcandosomethingelseafteryougivememyinfo.IneedtoknowwhereWallace

Arlingtonistoday.”Iknockmyknucklesonthewoodentabletoemphasizemypoint.

“Doyouliketheparty?”Paxasks,changingthesubject.
“What?”Ilookaroundashepanshishand,likehe’sshowingoffthisevent.“Whosepartyisit,

anyway?”

“Somecharitything.Do-gooderawards.Youwinanyofthosethings,Weston?Do-gooder

awards?

“I’llletMr.Perfectcornerthatmarket,thanks.Andyeah,”Isay,onehundredpercentboredand

wellonmywaytoirritated.“It’sagreatparty.NowwhereisWallace?”

“Well,”Paxsays,loweringhisvoiceandleaningin,“Ihearhe’sgoingtobeonsomeisland

tomorrowforacorporateevent.”

“Whatkindofevent?”
“WhatdoIlooklike,fuckingGoogle?Idon’tknow.”
“Whatisland?Ineedtomakearrangements.”
“Well,youcan’ttakethejet,it’sfloatplaneorboataccessonly.Andthewaterisgonnaberough,

soIdoubtyou’llgetacharterboattotakeyou.”

“Whofuckingcares?Fucktheboatride.Icangetafloatplane.JusttellmewhereIneedtobe.”

Whyishedraggingthisshitout?

“SandcastleCay.ThenorthernpartoftheExumaCays.It’saboutfiftymilessoutheastofNassau.

He’sgonnabetheretomorrow,butafterthatIhavenocluewherehe’sgoing.IonlygotthistipafterI
threatenedtoexposeasecretI’mholdingforafriendofhis.”

“Shit.HowthefuckamIgonnagetaprivateflightouttherewithhalfaday’snotice?”
“Igotaguyifyouneedareference.”
Ialmostdon’tstopmyeyeroll.Areference.JesusChrist.“Yes,Pax.I’dlikeareference.Justget

metothisguytomorrowandI’llknockoffhalfamilfromthatdebtyouoweme.”

“Ipaymydebts,Corporate.Idon’tneedyourcharity.”Helaughshardashetriestotakeasipof

hisgirlydrink,anddoesn’tquitesucceedwithoutdribblingitdownhischin.

Ican’tevenwiththisguy.
“Here,”hesays,pullingabusinesscardoutofhiswallet.“Givemyfriendacallthisafternoonand

tellhimMysteriousgaveyouhisnumber.He’lltakecareofyou.”

Itakeitandstandup,readytogetthefuckawayfromhim.“OK,well,thanks.Andhey,ifyou’d

liketopaythatdebtoff,it’ssevenpointfivemillionnow.Withtheinterest.”

Mysterioussendsmeawidegrinandshootsmewithhisfinger.Somethingthatremindsmealittle

toomuchoftheequallycockyMr.Match.Theyhavebeenspendingfartoomuchtimetogetherifhe’s
pickinguphismannerisms.

“Seeyaaround,”Paxcalls,afterI’malreadywalkingaway.“Anddon’tfuckthisup.Wecan’t

affordanymoremistakes.”

I’mnotthefuckup.Whatkindofdrugsisheon?He’sthefuckup.ButIdon’tstop.He’scrazy.We

allknowhe’scrazy.IgotwhatIneededandI’mgonnanaildownWallaceArlingtontomorrow.This
wholedealwillbeoneanddoneandthenIcangetbacktobuildingmyglobalempire.

ChapterFive-Victoria

ImetWestonConradthenightbeforethenightbeforethebignight.You’dthinkthatitmightget

lostinthehustleandbustleofwhathappenedoverthenexttwodays,butitdidn’t.Becausethenight
beforethenightbeforethebignightwasthebestoneofmylife.

Evenuptothisverymoment.
Noothernight,beforeorsince,willeverbeabletocompare.
Hewasn’tMr.Corporatewhenwemet.HewasjustMr.Conrad.
Hewasn’tsweet,hewasn’tparticularlysmart—Imean,everyoneatBrownwassmart,soI’mjust

sayinghedidn’tstandout—andhewasn’tparticularlymotivated.

Buthewasverydrunk.
Ifoundhimsittingunderatreeinfrontoftheadministrationbuildingholdingabottleofwhiskey

wrappedupinapaperbag.Hewaswearingasuit,wascoveredinleaves,andhewassingingSwing
Low,SweetChariot.Hisvoicewasdeep,mimickingtheJohnnyCashversionperfectly.

Hewasaclichéofdesperationanddefeat.
Ijoinedinfromatreenearbyandwesangthatsongtogether.
That’showImetWestonConrad.Thenighthisworldreallyfellapart,althoughIstilldon’treally

understandwhatallthatmelancholywasabout.Thatwasforty-eighthoursbeforehewasaccusedofa
crimethatwouldtestmylimitsandmyfaith.

Ialwaysknewhewasinnocent.Itwasnotmewhoquestionedhismoralityandvirtues.Itwashim.
Wetalkedallnightlong.Ineveroncejoinedhimunderhistree,justkeptmydistanceabouttwenty

feetawayfromundermine.AndIdidn’tevenknowwhohewasuntildaylightbrokeandhewas
almostsober.

“Letmewalkyouhome,”hesaid.“It’sanugly,fucked-upworldoutthereandI’dkillmyselfif

anythinghappenedtoyouonyourwayhome.”Hesaiditlikeitwasfact.Andlookingback,itsounds
alittlebitlikeapremonition.

Isaidyes,ofcourse.Bythistime,Iknewhewashandsome.Iknewsomethinghadgoneterribly

wrongwithhislife,andIknewthathewasplanningsomethingandmyappearanceseveralhours
beforehadinterruptedthoseplans.

ButIstilldon’tquitecomprehendhisdesperatesituationthatnight.Whyhewassittingunderthe

treeinfrontofadministration.Andwhyhisworldwasfallingapartevenbeforethatgirlaccusedhim
ofthatcrime.

Hesaidhewasbroke,nowthatIthinkback.Hmmm.FunnyhowIneverthoughtaboutthatlittle

detaileveragain.Ormaybenotsofunny.Lifegotweird,andcomplicated,andmessy.

Well,heisn’tbrokenow,soIguessprosperitybegetsprosperity.Isn’tthatwhattheysay?Money

makesmoney?Powergainspower?It’sanever-endingcycleofpredetermination.

WhenwegottothehouseIsharedwithmyroommatesheleanedagainsttheporchrailingand

lookedatme.

Iwaswaitingforhimtotrysomething.Kissmeorgropemelikemostmendidattheendofafirst

date.

Buthedidn’t.Hejustlooked.Notleered,whichagainwasatypical.
AndItoldmyselfthathewashungoveranditreallywasn’tadate.Becauseitmademefeel…a

little…insecure,Iguess.

Ihavebeenbeautifulallmylife.Iexpectmentotreatmeacertainway.SowhenWestonConrad

didn’tmeetthoseexpectationsIwasthrown.

Instead,hesaid,“Thankyou.”
AndIsaid,myheartbeatingfasterthanitshould,“Forwhat?”
“Savingme.”Thenheturnedawayandwalkedoff.
“What’syourname?”Icalledafterhim.
“Itdoesn’tmatter,”hesaid,neverlookingback.“Iknowyours.”
Hewaswaitingformeaftermyfouro’clockclassthatafternoon,lookingmorehandsomeand

moreput-together.

“MissArias,”hesaid,whenInoticedhimleaningagainstthewallasthepeoplepouredoutofthe

auditorium.“CanIinterestyouinacoffee?”

Iwasmoreput-togetheraswell.Thenightbeforewasoneforthebooksinmylittleworldtoo.I

hadjusthadafightwithanexandIwasquestioningeverythingaboutmylifewhenIstumbledupon
WestonConrad.Iwasangrythatamanwouldmakemequestionthingsthatshouldbecertain.Iwas
angrythatIhadletmyselfbecontrolledandmanipulatedintobeingsomeoneIwasn’t.

ButWestsmoothedallthosewrinklesover.Hewaslikeabalmonaburnorasoothingteabefore

bed.

Wetalkedovercoffee.Igothisname,ofcourse.Healreadyknewmine.Coffeeturnedintodinner,

turnedintodrinks.

AndeventhoughIshould’vefeltdirtyformovingontoanothermansoquickly,Ididn’t.The

wholethingfeltlikefate.

Andthen…everythingfellapart.Again,andagain,andagain.

Ipullmyselfoutofthepastwithashakeofmyhead.WestoniswalkingdownthebeachofVirginia

KeyandI’mrelaxingunderanumbrella,abigstrawhatgivingmecover.He’sdressedforabusiness
tripandI’mimmediatelygratefulIdidn’toptforcasualweareither.Ican’tseehiseyesbecausehe’s
wearingdarkstreamlinedsunglasses.

Histanslacksarepressedandcrisp,accentuatedwithabrownbelt.Thedressshirtiswhite,sleeves

rolleduplikehe’sabouttogethishandsdirty,andthetie…

Well,myheartskipsabeatwhenIseethetie.It’salightpurple.Lavender,actually.Whichismy

colorandthattellsmesomething.

He’sbeenthinkingaboutme.
Thismorning.Whenhegotdressed,hewasthinkingaboutme.
Getittogether,Victoria.
Ialmostlaugh.IfWestonConradwasthinkingaboutme,itwasnotinaflatteringway.It’sfarmore

likelythathespentthenightcursingmynameandhereachedforthattieunconsciously.

I’mgoingtostealthiscontractfromhimandheknowsit.

ChapterSix-Weston

“Vlad?”IaskthepilotasImakemywayontothebeachandtowardstheseaplane.Whatkindof

guyiscalledVladinMiami?Well,ifhe’sPax’sfriend,youneverknow.Theguyisprobablysome
internationalcriminal.“AreyouVlad?”Icallagainwhentheguyignoresme.

Helooksupfromwhateverhe’sdoingtohisseaplaneandsquintshiseyes.“That’sme,”hesays,in

aperfectAmericanaccent.Helooksalittlebitfamiliar.

Well,atleasthe’snotsomedisplacedRomanian.
“I’mWestonConrad.Wespokelastnight.”Ipausetolookhimover.Whydoeshelookso

familiar?“HaveImetyoubefore?”

Vladwipeshishandonhisjeansandextendsit.Weshakeashesays,“Nope,neverseenyoubefore

inmylife.Nicetomeetyou.We’llgetstartedassoonastheotherguestarrives.”

“Otherguest?Thisisaprivatecharter,Mr.…Vlad.”
“ItoldPaxI’dtakeotherclientssincethiswasafavor.AndIhaveone.Hereshecomesnow.”
“She?”ButIknowwhoitisthemomentbeforeIturnandlookinthedirectionhe’spointing.
VictoriaArias’longdarkhairisbillowingoutbehindher,herheelsclaspedinherfingertips,

swingingasshewalksacrossthesandtomeetus.She’swearingasilklavendershirtthatripplesin
theoceanbreeze,givingme…andVlad…anicepeekathermatchingbrabetweenthebuttons.

“Whatthefuckareyoudoinghere?”Iask.
“ThiswastheonlySandcastleCaycharteravailable,Weston.DoyoureallythinkIdidn’tknow

whereWallaceArlingtonwouldbetoday?”

“Youtwoknoweachother?”Vladasks.
“Yes,”wesaytogether,sneeringthewordwithequalamountsofcontempt.
God,justwhatthefuck?
“Backoff,Victoria.Thisismycontractandyouknowit.”
“It’snot,”shesays,flippingherhairinthatwaythatdrivesmecrazy.“We’revyingforit,Weston.

Thesooneryougetthatthroughyourthickskull,thesooneryoucometotermswiththefactthatI
willbetheonewhogetsthiscontractwhenthisisallover.”

“Likehell.”Goddammit.
“Istheregoingtobeaproblem?”Vladasks.“Becauseifso,oneofyouhastostaybehind.Since

thisisafavorforyourfriend,Conrad,thatwouldbeyou.MissAriaspaidmeincashlastnight.”

Thatbitch.“No,”Isay,thewordrumblingoutlikeagrowl.“Everythingisfine.”
“Good,”hesays.“Stowyour…oh,youdon’thaveanygear.”VladturnstolookatVictoriaand

noticesshehasnogeareither.“You’renotstayingovernight?”

“No,”wesaytogether.
“Daytriponly,Itoldyouthatlastnight,”Isay.“It’saone-daycorporateeventonSandcastleCay.

I’llonlybeanhour.Youcanjustwait.”

“I’mnotwaiting,”Vladsays.“Ihaveclientsonanothercaywhoneedaridebackthisafternoon.

I’mgonnaheadoverthere,getlunchandadrinkwiththem,thenflythembacktoMiami.”

“Pickmeuponthewayhome,”Victoriasays.“I’llbeready.”
“Iwon’thaveroom,MissArias.Thisisafour-passengerplaneandtherearethreeofthemplus

luggage.”

“Sowe’rejustgoingtobestuckoutthere?”
“Icancomeback.Butitwon’tbeuntillateafternoon.”
“Fine,thatwillwork,”Isay.
“Good,”Vladsays.ThenhewinksatVictoriaandpointstotheco-pilotseat.“Youcansitnextto

meifthisguycreepsyouout.We’regonnalandduringlowtidetoday,sothebeacheswillbenicefor
whateveryouhavegoingonoutthere.Perfect,actually.”

Victoriasmilesthatbeautifulsmileandsays,“Why,thankyou,Vlad.IthinkI’lltakeyouuponthat.

Andthanksforthetipaboutthetides.”Sheslipsthosehighheelsbackonandmakesabigshowof
gettingintheplaneandcrossingherlegs.

Igetinthebackandpretendthattheblatantflirtinggoingonupfrontisn’tpissingmeoff.She’s

doingitonpurpose.Infact,Ithinkhe’sdoingitonpurposetoo.

It’soneday,Conrad.Onedayandthenyou’llgetthecontractsignedandneverhavetoseeVictoria

Ariasagain.

“Arewestoppingatcustoms?”Iyelloncewearetaxiingonthewater.
Vladshootsmeagrinoverhisshoulderashepullsbackonthecontrolwheelandwetakeflight.

“Whatdoyouthink,Mr.Corporate?”

I’mgoingtokillMr.Mysteriousforthis.Killthatcrazymotherfucker.Whydoeshehavetolive

ontheedgeallthetime?Whydoeshehavetocourtdisasterandjailtime?Doesheregretthatwe
wereneverfoundguiltyfortherapeaccusationbackincollege?Doeshewanttogotoprison?
SometimesIwonder.SometimesIthinkthatguyhas‘suicidemission’listedashismaingoalinlife.
That’shisfive-yearplan.Getarrestedforthestupidfucked-upshithedoestoearnmoneyinthe
world.

Ishouldnevercallhimagain.IshouldforgetIevermettheguy.Ishouldcuttieswithallofthe

Misters,nowthatIthinkaboutit.

Weirdshitishappening.Weirdshitthatmakesmethinkwaytoomuchofthepast.
AndthefactthatVictoriaAriashassuddenlyappearedbackinmylifeisn’tmakingthingslookany

better.

Infact,itlooksalotlikeasetup.Itlooksalotlikesomeonereallyisfuckingwithusagain.Itlooks

alotlikeamistake.

AndifIgetarrestedbecausePaxtonVance’spilotissomekindofinternationalcriminal,I’m

definitelytakinghimdownwithme.

VictoriaandVladchatbackandforthonheadsetsafterthat.Istewinthebackwonderingjust

exactlywhatbroughtherbackinmylife.It’ssuspicious.Iknowwhat’sgoingonwiththerestofthe
Misters.MatchfilledmeinaboutNolan’swholetrainwreckofanightafewweeksagoandthatalone
isenoughtomakemesuspicious.

ButaddinPerfect’sdramaandwearestartingtoseeapattern.Peoplehavebeenappearingfrom

thepastandstartingshit.Someofit,likethestuffwithPerfect,wasfairlybenign.ButtheRomantic
stuffwasn’tbenignatall.

So…Victoria.
Wedatedforalongtimeifyouaddupalltheweeksandmonthsconsecutively.Notsolongifyou

don’t.Webrokeupalot.Sheiswild,andarrogant,andhot-tempered.She’sacontrolfreak,anda
workaholic,andself-righteous.

Shealwayshasareasonforherbehavior,too.She’salwayspaintingherselfasreasonable.
Ican’tevenmusterupalaughatthatidea.Reasonable.Please.
ThetwoofthemupfrontlaughaboutsomethingandwhenVictorialeansoverandputsherhand

onhisshoulder,IgritmyteethandtrytostayfocusedonthejobasIlookoutthewindows.

TheExumaCaysisanarchipelagoofmostlyuninhabitedislandsjusteastoftheBahamasandthey

arebreathtakinglybeautiful.Especiallynow,inlatesummerwhenthetemperaturesarejustthinking
aboutcoolingdown,butwinterisn’tyethere.

Ivacationhereoften.Infact,thefirsttimeIevercametotheExumaswaswithVictoria.
Isthatacoincidence?Isanythingacoincidencethesedays?
Vladyellsoverhisshoulder,startlingmeoutofmymood.“We’relanding.”
AndjustasIlookoutthewindowandgetaglimpseoftheneighboringislands,hedropsaltitude

andmystomachsinks.

Victorialaughs,andherfuckinghandisbackonhisshoulder.
Igritmyteethagainjustaswetouchdownonthewaterandhemakesforthebeach.
Calm,Weston.Becalm,dude.
IknowVictoriaisdoingeverythingshecantopushmybuttons,butWallaceishere.I’mgoingto

gettohimfirst.Idon’tcarewhatkindofcrushhehadonmygirlfriendbackincollege,hehasto
knowI’mthemorelegitimatebusiness.

I’veheardtherumorsaboutVictoria’scompany.I’veheardthatshe’slaidoffherentireofficestaff

tomakethebills.I’veheardshe’sabouttoloseeverything.I’veheardthatshe’sbeenplacingpeople
injobsthatdon’tevenmakeahundredgrandayear.

Ican’timaginehowlittleshemakesoffthosekindsofcontracts.I’vebeenmakingseven-plus-

figuredealssinceIwastwenty-three.I’dretireifIhadtogobacktothatkindofhustleagain.That
wouldbemysignaltocallitquits.Getanewfive-yearplan.

TheirlaughingcontinuesasthedoorisopenedandVictoriamakesashowofslippingoffher

shoesbeforejumpingdownontothepontoonandsplashingintotheclear,knee-deepwater.It’snot
justturquoise.Thiswaterissomanyshadesofblueandgreen,itmakesmeliftmysunglassesupsoI
canseeitwithoutthefilter.

Irollmypantsuptomykneesandslipmyshoesandsocksoff,holdingtheminmyhandasIjump

downandwalkuptothebeachwhereVladandVictoriaseemtobehavingregretsaboutparting.

“So,”Isay,bringingVlad’sattentionbacktome.“IthinkI’llbedonehereinanhour.Can’tyou

justwait?”

“Wait?”Vladlaughs.“No.Ialreadytoldyou.Ifyouwantarideback,I’llbeherelateafternoon.”
“That’snoproblem,Vlad,”Victoriasays,blinkinghereyesathim.“I’msureI’llhavethiscontract

wrappedupinnotimeandthenI’lljustworkonmytanfortherestoftheday.”

“Soundsgood,sweetheart.ThenwecangetthatdrinkwhenwegetbacktoMiami.”
“Soundslikeagreattime,”Victoriapurrs.Iwaitforhertograbhisshirtcollarandpullhiminfor

adramaticgoodbyekiss.Butshedoesn’t,justturnsaway,lookingbackoverhershoulderwitha
smile.

VladandIbothwatchhermakeherwaytowardsatrackinthesandthatleadsupaduneandthenhe

turnstome.

“Soyoudon’thaveaproblemwiththat,doyou?Ushavingdrinkslater?Imean,shesaidyoutwo

wereneverseriousandyoubrokeupyearsago.”

“Didshe?”Bitch.“Well,don’tworryaboutme.I’mimmunetohercharms.Butyou,buddy,I

worryabout.She’sgotyouwrappedaroundherpinkyfinger.”

“Hey.”Vladsmilesashewalksoffintothewater,ignoringthefactthathispantsaresoakingwet

uptotheknees.“Don’tyouworryaboutme,man.Icanhandleanything.”

Hegivesmealittlesaluteandslamshisdoorclosedashestartstheengine.
Idon’tbotherwatchinghimtakeoff.Iheadupthebeachbywayofthepathtocatchupwith

Victoria.I’mnotlettinghergetthejumponWallace.Andifshethinksshe’sgoingtoplaydirtyby
usingherfemaleassetsonhim,well,I’lljusthavetousemymaleassetsonher.

ChapterSeven-Victoria

Iknowhe’sjealous.WestonConradmightbealotofthings,butheisnotsubtle.AndIknowhe’s

jealousbecauseflirtingwithothermenhasalwaysbeenmyfallbackwithhimwhenhe’sdifficult.
Thereisnowayhe’sgoingtogiveupthiscontracttome,butitdoesn’tmatter.Bytheendofthisday,
Mr.Corporatewillonlyhaveonethingonhismind.Me.AndhowIwon.

IsmileintothewindasIwalkupthesandduneandcometohigherground.Welandedonthe

desertedsideofthecay,butthat’snotuncommonhere.Mostoftheselittleislandsaresmalland
uninhabited.Eventheinhabitedones,likethisone,havelittletonothinginthewayofbuildingsand
amenities.

Ifyouwantaresortexperienceyoudon’tcometoaplacelikeSandcastleCay.Yougotothemain

islandsandstayinarealhotel.

Still,whenIshademyeyeswithmyhandtoblockoutthesun,Ican’tseeanystructuresatall.
“Hey,”Westoncallsfrombehindme.“Look,Victoria.Iknowyouthinkyou’regoingtoplay

hardballwithmetoday,but—”

“Wait,”Isay,puttingupmyhandtoshuthimup.“Wherearewe?”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Imean,look,Weston.There’snobuildingsoverthere.That’stheothersideoftheislandand

there’snobuildings.”

“What?”hesays,lookingaround.“Therehavetobebuildings.Look,”hesays,pointingtothe

ridgeofftotheleft.“There’saroof.It’sthisway.”

Westartwalking,bothofusholdingourshoesinourhands,andWestoncontinuestotalk.

“Whateveryouneed,Victoria,I’llhelpyou.Butyou’renottakingthiscontract.”

“Idon’twantyourcharity.Icangetthiscontractallonmyown.Idon’tneedyou,West.”
“No,”hesayswithasigh.“No,you’veneverneededanyone.”
“Don’tgetallbroodywithme,Mr.Conrad.I’mnotplayingyourgamesagain.Let’sjustagreethat

webothgetashot.We’rebothhere,right?SowebothgetashottomakeourcaseandthenWallace
candecide.”

“Whatever.Butyouknowhe’llneversignwithyou.Youhavenocontacts.He’sgotnoreasonto

thinkyou’llbeabletopullthisoff.”

“It’sguaranteed,Weston.”
“Isit?HowdoyouknowLiamhasn’thiredotherheadhunters,hmm?Whywouldhehirethetwo

ofus?WhenheknowsIcandeliver?”

“Maybeyoucan’tdeliver?”Isnap.“Obviouslyhedoesn’thavecompletefaithinyou,Weston.Ifhe

did,Iwouldn’tbehere.”

“Howdidyougethere?”heasks.“IknowyouhavenoconnectionsinMiami.NotlikeIdo.”
“I’mresourceful,West.You,ofallpeople,shouldknowthat.”Wereachthetopofanotherridge

andbothofusgosilentforamoment.

“Wherethefuckiseveryone?”heasks.
Iturnandlookaround.Thereisabuilding.It’snotbigandit’snotextravagant—theyneverareout

here.Butthere’snopeople.“Areweontherightcay?”

“Webetterbeontherightfuckingcay,”Westsays.“I’llkillthatmotherfuckerifhedroppedusoff

onthewronggoddamnedisland.”

“OK,well,ifweareontherightisland,thenwhereiseveryone?Theycan’tbeinside.Andthere’s

noboats?Noplanes?Justwhatthehellisgoingon?”

“Youknowwhat?”Westasks.
“What?”Isay,startingtofeelalittlecreepedout.WeareinthemiddleoftheCaribbeanSea,ona

desertedisland,andmightbeinthewrongplace.

“I’mstartingtothinkyousetthisup.Didyoutellthatpilottodropusatthewrongisland?Areyou

sendingsomeoneelseintotalktoWallacefiveislandsover?”Westwhirlsaround,lookingatallthe
nearbycays.There’splentyofthem.Wecouldprobablyswimtofour,atleast,that’showclosethey
are.Butforwhatpurpose?Theyallappeartobedesertedtoo.

“Weston,”Isay.“I’msureyouknowbynowthatmyheadhuntingbusinessisonthevergeof

insolvency.Socutyourshitanddon’tmakemeangry.Idon’thavethemanpowertosendsomeone
elsetodomyjob.”

“Yourfatherisstillinvolved.Ikeeptrack,Victoria.Ikeeptrackofeveryoneofmycompetitors.”
“Well,thenyou’dknowthatmyfatherisnotdoingwellandthelastthingI’daskhimtodoisto

comeallthewayouthereandriskhishealthsoIcanplaygameswithyou.”Iwhirlaroundandpoint
myfingerinhisface.“Sodon’tfuckwithme.Whyarewetheonlypeopleontheisland?”

Heslapsmyhandawayanddropshisshoes.“Don’tpointatme.Idon’tlikeit.YouknowIdon’t

likeitbecausewe’vefoughtaboutthatlittlemovehundredsoftimes.Sodon’tfuckingpointatme.”

Iriflethroughmypurseandgetoutmyphone.Ofcourse,thereisnoserviceouthere.“That’s

great.Nowwe’restuckherealldayandWallaceArlingtonissomewhereelse.Whothehellgaveyou
thisinformation?”

“Whatdoyoumean‘whogaveme?’Wheredidyougetyourinformation?”
Shit.
“Victoria?”
Fuck.
“Victoria?”He’sgettingmadnow.“Whotoldyoutobeatthatplanethismorning?”
“Whotoldyou?”Isay.It’snotcleverandit’snotmuchofadeflection.ButIhavenothingbutthe

truth.Andthetruthwillpisshimoff.

“Averygoodfriend.Averyreliablefriend.”
“Iguesshe’snotsoreliable,ishe?”
“Whosaiditwasahe?”Westgrowls.
“Um…”Dammit.Think,Victoria.Youcanhandlethisovergrownchild.Youdiditforyears.“Of

courseit’sahe,Weston.You’dnevertakethewordofawoman.”

“Oh,you’regoingwiththat?Really?”
“You’vealwaysbeenacaveman.Sodon’tevendenyit.Howmanywomendoyoudobusiness

with,Mr.Corporate?”

“Don’tcallmethat.”
“I’veearnedtheright,”Isnapback.“Ifanyonecancallyouthat,it’sme.”
“Idobusinesswithwhomeverisrequired.Andhundredsofthemarewomen.Sodon’tpushyour

littlefeministagendaonme,honey.”

“Honey?”Ilaugh.“OK,you’reonyourown,Corporate.I’mgoingdowntothatbuildingtoseeif

theyhavearadio.”

“Well,ifyoulookedattheroof,”hesays,keepingpacewithmeaswewalkdowntheovergrown

path,“there’sanantenna,sotheydo.”

“Areyougoingtopullthebig,strongmanroutineonmeagain?Ifso,saveyourbreath.I’mnotin

thebusinessofplayingdamselindistress.Andtheantennacouldbeobsolete.Iwon’tknowuntilIsee

formyself.Unlikeyou,”Isay,lookingoverathim,“Idon’tjumptoconclusions.”

“Ididn’tneedtojump,Victoria.Isawitallwithmyowneyes.”
“Oh,fuckyou.IwonthatFullertoncontract,too.Fairandsquare.”
“Fair?Square?Hardly.”Helaughs.“Yousleptwithmeandthencheatedmeoutofacontract.Ican

forgiveyouforalotofthings,Victoria,butstealingfrommeisn’toneofthem.Igaveyouanything
youwanted,everythingyouneededandyoushitalloverme.”

“Itoldyoubackthen,itwasdeliveredtoyourapartmentwithmynameonit.Itwasforme,Weston.

Notyou!”

“Liar,”hemumbles.“Weweren’tlivingtogetheratthattime.Itwasaveryconvenientone-night

standforoldtimes’sake.Andyoujusthappenedtobetherewhenthecouriercameandyousigned
formypackageandtookit.Sevenmilliondollars,Tori.That’swhatIlostonthatdeal.”

Fuckhim.Justfuckhim.Hewantstobringupthepast?I’mhappytobringupallthelittlethingshe

seemstohaveconvenientlyforgotten.

“Youwillnotwin,Mr.Corporate.Youwillnot.BecauseI’mtheonewhoalwayswinswhenit

comestous.”

HestopswalkingandIkeepgoing.ButbeforeIstepoffthepathtomakemywaydownthehill,I

lookback.He’sabouttwentyyardsbehindme,standingstill.Hishairistousledandmessy.Hishands
arefists,likehe’sreallyangry.Andhisface.Thathandsomeface,impassive.Becausethat’showhe
rolls.Heshutsdowntheminutehefeelschallenged.

“YouwinbecauseIletyou,Tori.AnddoyouknowwhyIalwaysletyouwin?”
“Letme?”Isnort.“Please.”
“BecauseIlovedyou.Ilovedyou,butallyoueversawwasaticket.Aticketoutoftheprisonyou

lockedyourselfin.AndI’mtellingyourightnow,VictoriaArias,forthehundredthfuckingtime,I’m
nobody’sticketbutmine.”

ChapterEight-Weston

ThemostironicthingaboutVictoriaAriasisherrefusaltoneedanyone.Becauseshe’salways

beenneedy.AndI’mkindalyingaboutthewholeticketthing.Ilikebeingneeded.Mostmendo.But
thethingIhateisthefactthatsherefusestoadmitsheneedsme.She’salwaysbeenthatway.Always.

Shedoesn’twaitformetocatchup,justrunsdownthehill,thatlongdarkhairflyinginthewind

again.

Isighandpickupmyshoes,thenfollowherdowntothelittlebuilding.Howthehelldidthingsget

sofuckedup?Lastnightthiswasasurething.Twenty-fourhoursagoIthoughtthiscontractwasa
retainer.

NowI’mevenfartherawayfromnailingthisdownthanIwaswhenLiamsaidIhadtocompete.

WallaceArlingtonisprobablyhundredsofmilesaway.Hell,maybeMysterioussetmeup?He’s
alwaysbeenweird.Maybehe’sworkingforsomeoneelsethesedays?HowwouldIknow?Hebarely
givesusMistersthetimeofday.AnddespitehelpingoutwithNolan’slittlepredicament,hehasn’t
beenaroundmuchasfarasIcantell.

MaybeheandMatchhavesomekindofbusinessgoing,butwhoreallytrustsMatch,either?He

doesn’tevenhaveagirlfriend.Andthefuckerrunsadatingsite.Whatkindofdatingsitemogulhas
nosignificantother?

Thatlittlefacthasbeeneatingawayatmeforawhilenow.Ijustdon’tknowwhattomakeofit.

Addinallthehush-hushshitthatwentdownbackwhenwewerearrested,andthatguy,Five,whoever
hewas.Idon’tknow,butIdoknowhewasdangerous.LikeMysteriouskindofdangerous.Hejust
walkedinlikehewassomekindofkingandtookover.

Dothis,dothat.
Nooneknowshowtoworkthelegalsystemlikethatunlesstheyhaveexperiencedoingit.Andthe

guywasprobablynotmucholderthanIamnow.Sowhatkindofshitwasheinto?Whatkindoflife
washepartofthatheknewsomuch?

Granted,hisadvicewasallsolid.Butitstillbothersme.Matchstillbothersme.Wheredidhepick

upafriendlikethat?Imean,Matchwasonlyeighteenyearsoldwhenwewerecharged.

AndI’velookedintohisfamily.IhavethefamilyhistoriesofalltheMistersmemorized,even

Mysterious’.Andthatwasnoteasytocomeby,consideringhe’stheillegitimatesonofabig-time
Hollywoodmoviestarononesideandtheblue-bloodheirofaone-hundred-fifty-year-oldKentucky
breedingfarmontheother.

ButMatch’sfamilyhistorycomesoffasveryblue-collar.Custommotorcycles.Andarealityshow

awhileback.Hell,hestilllivesinColoradowherehegrewup.PerfectlivesinColoradonowtoo,but
thatwasn’tbydesign.Itjusthappenstobewheretheheadquarterstohisfamilycompanyis.

AndthatFiveguywasanythingbutblue-collar.Hereekedofmoneyandbreeding.Sowheredid

thatconnectioncomefrom?

Idon’tknow.AndIdon’tneedtocareaboutitrightnow.Myonlyconcernisradioingforthatpilot

togethisassbackhereandpickusup.GetussomewherewithservicesoIcancallMysteriousupand
askhimjustwhatthefuck.

ThisWallaceArlingtoncontractisthepinnacleofeverythingI’vebeendoingforthepastfifteen

years.I’mthere.IamsocloseIcanpracticallytasteit.

Andit’sslippingaway.Everythingfeelslikeit’sslippingaway.
WhenIgettothebuildingIrealizeit’smoreofahouse.There’salotofwindowsandIcansee

insideasIwalktothedoorandpullitopen.

Victoriaissittingatakitchenisland,herheadinherhands.
“What’sup?”Iask.BecauseIknowthatmeansshe’sfrustrated.
“Itdoesn’twork.”
“Theradio?”Isay,droppingmyshoesatthefrontdoor.“Letmelookatit.I’mgoodwith

electronics.MaybeIcan—”

“Youcan’t,Weston.It’ssmashed.”
“Smashed?”
Victoriaispointingtothecounteracrossfromwhereshe’ssitting,andwhenIstepafewpacesto

thesideIseethat,yes,thereisaradio,andyes,itissmashedtobitsonthecounter.“Whothefuck
woulddothat?”

“Someonewhodoesn’twantustobeanywherebutheretoday,West.”
West.ShealmostnevercallsmeWest.It’slikemecallingherTori.Reservedforintimatemoments.
“Somethingiswrong,”shesays.
Orvulnerableones.
“Whydoyousaythat?”Iask,walkinguptotheislandandtakingaseatnexttoher.Shesmells

good.Shealwayssmellsgood.Alwayssomethingflowery,too.Jasmineorhoneysuckle.Gardenias
orroses.

Todayshesmellslikesomethingelse,though.TheoneIalwayspreferred.It’sfitting.Hereyesare

violet,hershirtislavender,andherscentislilac.Sheispurple.

Andrightnowthoseeyes…theyarestuck.Onme.Thepast.Thepresent.
Whyisshehere?
“Becauseweareinthewrongplace.”
Igetupandgointothekitchen,pullingopencupboards.Empty.Iopenthefridge.Empty.“Fucking

great.”

“Look,”Victoriasays,leaningovertheislandandliftingupthetap.“Water.Atleastwehavewater.

ThatVladguywillbebacktonight.Soaslongaswestayinsideandhydrated,we’llbefine.”

“Assuminghecomesback.”
“Whywouldn’thecomeback?”
I’msorryIsaiditbecauseVictoria’seyesgetwidewithconcern.“Nevermind.Hewill.”
ShegoessilentandIknowshewon’tforgetthosewords.It’sgoingtohauntherallday.Shewill

dwell,andfret,andworkherselfupintoablindobsession.

Becausethat’sthekindofgirlVictoriaAriasis.
Wild.It’sherdefaultsetting.
VictoriatapshernailsonthecountertopandIcan’thelpbutlookatthem.Yesterdaytheywere

periwinkle,buttodaytheyarethelightestshadeofpurpleimaginable.Solight,theyarealmostwhite.

“So…”shesays.
“So…”Isay.
“Areyoudoingwell?”sheasks.
“Iam,thanks.Andyou?”Irollmyeyes.Arewesofarapartthisisallwehavetotalkabout?Are

wesofarapartthatpoliteconversationisallwehaveleftbetweenus?“Yourdad,”Isay.“What’s
wrongwithhim?”

“Oh.”Victoriasighs.“Toomanythingstolist.”
“I’msorry,”Isay.AndIam.Ialwayslikedhim.
“Hewastalkingaboutyoutheotherday.”

“Hewas?”
“Yes.Heasksaboutyoualot.Andbeforeyouask,it’salwaysgood.”
“Well,whenyouseehimtellhimIsaidhi.AndaskhimifIcancomebyandsayitinperson.”
“He’dlikethat.”
“Metoo.”
Thesilencetakesoveragain.I’mactuallystuckinit,Ithink.Iwanttosaysomething.Anythingto

makethedistancebetweenusgoaway.But…IgetcaughtupimaginingallthethingsIcouldsay.All
thewaystheycouldcomeoutwrong.Allthemisinterpretationstheymightcomewith.Andthenone
secondhasturnedintothirty.Andthenthirtyhasturnedintotwominutes.And…Victoriagetsupand
goesintothebathroom.

Sheclosesthedoor,thenimmediatelyopensit.“Doyouthinkitworks?”
Ishrug.“Thewaterworks.”
ShedisappearsagainandI’mleftherealone,mymindstilltryingtocatchupwiththefactthatI’m

onatropicalislandwithVictoriaArias.Alone.Afternotseeingherformorethanthreeyears.

Shestilllooksgood.Betterthanever,actually.
Butshe’sstillthesameinotherwaysaswell.Thatmeanstreakshehas,thatwillneverfade.Idon’t

doubtthatVictoriaArias’grandchildrenwillbewhisperingthewords‘crazy,’and‘wild,’and
‘stubborn’thirtyorfortyyearsfromnow.

WhenshecomesoutthebathroomIfeelmorestuckthanever.
Ihavesomuchtosaytoherandnoneofitshouldbesaidoutloud.Iwanttoscreamather.Iwant

toyellinsultsandmakethreatstowalkoutofherlifeforever.Thistime,onmyterms.Betterthanthe
wayshewalkedoutonme.Iwanttobemeanerthanshewas.Iwanttothrowmoreinsultsthanshedid.
Iwanttomakeaccusationsthatsheknowstobetrue,justlikethatlastnight.Iwanttomakeherhate
meandmissmeinthesamemoment.

Iwantto…
Isigh.
BecauseIdon’treallywanttodoanyofthat.IwanttosayI’msorry.IwanttosayI’vemissedher.I

wanttosaytherehasneverbeenanotherwomaninmylifelikeherandthereneverwillbe.

Iwanttosay…Iloveher.
BecauseIdo.IhaveneverlovedawomanwhosenamewasnotVictoriaArias.AndIwillnever

loveanotherwoman.Iamdestinedtowalkthislifealonebecauseshe’sitforme.Thebeginningand
theendwhenitcomestolove.

IhadherandIlost.
IhadherandIchosetoleaveherbehind.
IhadloveandIchoseblindobsessioninstead.
Sothere’snousefeelingsorryformyself.Imadethischasmbetweenus.Iamtheemptyspace.I

amthelongdroptothebottom.IamtheonlyoneIcanblame.

ChapterNine-Victoria

“It’snotevennoon,”Isay,afterusingthebathroom.Westiseerilysilentandcontemplativeashe

staresoutthewindow.It’slikehedoesn’tevennoticeme.Idressedintheseclothestotaunthim,wore
thislow-cutshirttopiquehisinterest.AndallI’vegottensofarisindifference.

He’salwaysbeenthatway,right?
Big,strong,powerfulWestonConrad.Untouchable,Iusedtocallhim.Andnotbecauseofhis

wealthorstatus.ButbecauseWestondoesn’tdealinemotions.Heisimpossibletorattle.Insultswash
offhimlikewateroffaduck.Hefieldsaccusationslikeamajorleaguer,throwingthembacktohome
base,alwayspreventingascore.

Heisindifferent.Alwaysuninterested.
“Iknow,”Westonsays.
“Whatshouldwedoallday?”
He’snottalking.He’sjuststaringoutthekitchenwindowlikethere’ssomethingmagicaloutthere.
Butthenhegetsupandwalkstowardsthewindow,leaninghishandsonthecountertopashetries

toseesomething,butcan’tquitemakeitout.“What’sthat?”hesays,steppingbackandwalkingoutof
thekitchentothemainlivingareawherehestopsinfrontofthebigpicturewindow.

“What’swhat?”Iask,lostinthought.God,helooks…fantastic.I’veseenhiminmagazinesafew

timesoverthepastthreeyears,andhealwayslookedmorelikeaGQmodelthanabusinessman.But
Jesus.ItalkedmyselfintobelievingthatwasallPhotoshopandnoneofitwasreal.

It’sreal.He’sreal.
“Isthatastorm?”Westonsays,pointingoutthewindow.
Iwalkovertohim,tryingmybestnottogetlostinhiscologne.Westonneverlikedtowear

colognewhenwefirstmet.Hewassodifferentbackthen.ButthenIboughthimsomeforChristmas
thatfirstyearandhe’sworniteversince.

That’swhathe’swearingnow.SamebrandIgothimallthoseyearsago.I’drecognizeitanywhere.
“Look,Victoria.Didyoucatchaweatherreportbeforeyouleftthismorning?”
“It’sgoingtobehotinNewYork,ifthat’swhatyou’reasking.”
“No,that’snotwhatI’masking,”hesays,irritated.“Isthereabigstormcomingouthere?”
“HowwouldIknow?”Isnap.I’mlettingthatindifferencegettomeagain.Ialwaysletitgettome.

Itmakesmeragey.“I’mnotfromhere,”Isay,tryingtoravelallthepartsofmethatarecoming
unraveledbybeingherealonewithhim.“SoIwouldn’tknow.Sorry,”Iadd,totrytodefusemy
anger.

Westonsighs,likeI’mgratingonhislastnerve.“Well,I’mnotfromhereeither.Butthatpurple

messofcloudslookslikeagiantfuckingstormtome.”

I’mabouttotosshimanotherballofinsultstofieldwhenithitsmewhatthatmightmean.“What

areyousaying?Willwegetstuckhere?Isthatpilotnotcomingbackforus?”

Westonshootsmeascowl.“Don’tgetcrazy,Tori.He’llcomeback.Itlooksfarawaystill.Likeit

mighthitlatetonight.”

“Hebettercomeback,”Isay,mostlytomyself.
“Yougotahotdatewithhimtonight?”AndeventhoughWeston’sthemasterofindifference,it

doesn’tquitecomeoutasindifferent.

Ismileasthe,“No,”comesoutofmymouth.Itrytosneeraswell,butIlikethathe’sasking.It

meansImadehimjealouswhenwewereflyingover.“Ijustdon’twanttobestuckhereovernight,
that’sall.”

“Hmmm,”Westonsays.“Stuckherewithme?”
“Exactly.”
“Well,Icanthinkofworsepeopletobestuckonatropicalislandwithmyself.”
“Don’twasteyourtimetryingtoflatterme,West.Itwon’twork.”
“Noted,Tori.”
Isighandwalkovertothewallandflickthelightswitch.“Wehavepower.”
“Ifigured,sincethewaterisrunningonapump.”
Apump?Waitaminute.“Whatdoesthatmean?”Iask,gettingnervous.“We’lllosewaterifthe

stormknocksoutthepower?”

Westonturnstofaceme,hisconfidentsmileshining.“Don’tgetaheadofyourself,OK?We’re

goingtobebackonthemainlandbeforethatstormhits.”

“Ifthatpilotcomesback.”
“He’scomingback,Tori.Hehasnoreasonnotto.”
“Thestorm,”Isay,pointingmyfingeratthehugewindowandthepurpleclouds.
“So,”Westonsays.“Thatinsecuregirlisstillinthere,huh?Stillaworrier,areyou?”
“Fuckyou.”ButmyretortisweakandIknowheseesit.Idon’tlikethethoughtoflosingpower.I

hateitwhenI’mawayfromthecity.ItfreaksmeoutformorereasonsthanIcaretorememberatthe
moment.Butthethoughtofbeingonthistinyislandinthemiddleoftheseaintheblackofnightwith
nopower,andnowater,andnooneelsebesidesmyex-boyfriendisawholeotherleveloffreakout.

“He’scomingback,”Westonrepeats.
ButI’mnotconvinced.Andnowhe’sgotthatlookonhisface.Thatlookheusedtosaveforthe

momentsrightbeforeIhadapanicattack.Thatlooksays,Getheroffthatledgebeforeshejumps.

“Don’tlookatmethatway,”Isay,angry.“I’mnotthatgirlanymore,Weston.Idon’tneedyour

shiningknightservicesthesedays,sodon’tthrowmethoseconcerned,Shejustgotonthetrainto
Crazytownlooks.”

Westonchucklesandshakeshishead.“Youwanttogobacktothebeach?Swimorsomething?

Passourtimeinparadisebyrelaxingonthewhitesand?”

“Doyou?”Iask.Andthen,“Idon’thaveasuit.”
Westontakesoffhistieandbeginsunbuttoninghisshirt.Myeyesopenalittlewider.Iwatchevery

move.Thewayhisfingersflipeachbuttonloose.Thewayhistannedandmuscularchestflashesme
astheshirtcomesapart.ThatstupidCorporategrinonhisface.

Isighwithfrustrationjustashetakesthewholethingoffandstartsgoingforhisbelt.
WillWestonConradstripnakedtoswim?
Oh,yeah.Youbetyourasshewill.IcalledhimNakedManbackwhenweweretogether.Hehasa

thingforit.

“Comeon,Tori.Let’sswim.Youdon’tneedasuit.I’veseenyourgoods.”
“Firstofall,”Isay,crossingmyarmsandmaintainingeyecontactasthepantscomedown,“I’m

not‘goods.’Secondofall,I’mnotgivingyouthepleasureofseeingmenakedafteryou’vebeensuch
anasshole.”

“WhenwasIanasshole?”
He’skidding,right?“Allthetime.”
“I’mjusttruthful,Victoria.Youjustcan’thandlethetruth.”
“I’mtiredoffighting—”ButIstoptalking.Becauseyeah,hestilllooksamazinginthoseblack

boxerbriefshe’spartialto.

“Didyoumisshim?”Westasks.
“Who?”Isay,forcingmyselftolookupathisface.
“NakedMan?”
Ialmostlaugh,butcatchmyselfjustintime.“Weston—”ButbeforeIcangetanythingelseout,

he’scrossingthefloor,I’mbackingup,myhandsareup,warninghimtostayaway,andIbumpinto
thecouchandfallback.

Hestopsinfrontofme,hisgoddamnedbulgestaringmeintheface.
Atleasthe’snothard.
Ooops.Spoketoosoon.
“Weston,stopit.”
“Comeon,”hesays,extendinghishand.“We’regoingtothebeach.”
“I’mnotgettingnakedwithyou.”
“Idon’tneedyounaked.Yourfuckingskirtissoshortyoucouldwadeinuptoyourthighs.”He

shakeshishandatme,urging.“Comeon.”

IclosemyeyessoIcanstopstaringatthebulge,stopimagininghishardcockandalltheways

I’vebeenintimatewithitinthepast,andtakehishand,lettinghimpullmetomyfeet.Hisarmslips
aroundmybackandhepullsmeintohischest.God,Icanfeelhisfuckingdickagainstmyhips.

“Victoria,”hesaysinmyear.“You’vemissedme,”hesays,switchingtotheotherone.
Iwaitforwhatcomesnext.It’sathinghealwaysdidwithmewhenIwasonthevergeof

something.Panic,orsadness,orwhatevercomeswithallthethingswewentthrough.

Hewouldstandbehindme,bothhandssqueezingmyshoulders.Hismouthwouldgotoworkon

myearlobe,andmyneck,andmymouth.Thenhisfingerswoulddipdownintomybratosqueezemy
breastsandpinchmynipples.

We’dalwayshavesexafterthat.Always.Itdrovemecrazy.
ButbeforeIcansayanything—No,we’renotdoingthat,or,Backoff,mister,I’mnotyours—he

backsawayandhe’sheadingforthedoor,tuggingmealong.

Isigh,missinghisattentionsomuchinthatunusedmoment.
Outsideit’sgottobetendegreeswarmerthanitwaswhenwefirstgothere.Blazinghot.The

houseisnotcool,notbyanymeans.Butit’stolerable.Outside,thefactthatI’minthetropicshitsme
inthefacewiththehotwind.

Thiscay,andalltheothercaysthatIcanseeaswewalktheridgeleadingbacktothebeach,is

aboutamilelongandhalfamilewide.Therearefewsmalleronescloseby.Justsandbarsstickingup
fromthesea,really.Theydon’tcount.Butthebiggestoneisacouplemilestothesouth.Itlookslike
itshouldbeinhabited.ButfromhereIcan’ttell.Mostoftheinterioroftheislandistreesandbrush.

WestandIcametotheExumaIslandsseveralyearsago,butwestayedataresortonGreatExuma

andcharteredaboat.Thisisnothinglikethat.Yes,it’sstunningasfarastheviewgoes.Thebeaches
areallpristinewhitesand.Theoceanistoomanyshadesofblue,andgreen,andturquoisetoname,
andthepalmtreesareperfect.Buttheisolation…I’mOKforafewhours.Adayisfine.Butthe
thoughtofgettingstuckhere…

Well…Idon’tdoaloneverywell.Notinisolation.Iliveinmybuildinginthecity.Andthere’sso

manyotherpeoplelivinginthatbuildingwithme,Idon’teverfeelalone.Plus,thecityisfilledwith
millionsofpeople.Granted,mostofthemwouldnotgiveafuckifyouwerebeingstabbedtodeath
onthesidewalkeveniftheywerestandingsixfeetaway.Butthey’rethere.Andnotallofthemare
bad.SomeoneisalwaystheretohelpifIneedit.Icanalwayscall911.

Herethereisnoonebutus.AndwhileIknowWestonwouldneverhurtme,it’sthethoughtof

beinghurtthatfrightensmemore.Thethoughtofbeinghurtandbeingalonewhenithappens.

ThatfearconsumedmewhenIwasyounger.Italmostatemeup.

AndWestonConrad’sperfectlytonedassisn’tenoughtostopmefromworryingaboutitasI

watchhimoutinfront,eagertogettothebeach.Whenwegetbacktotheridgenearwherethepilot
droppedusoffhejogsdownthebankanddivesintothesmallwaves.

Ilookovermyshouldertothenorth.Thepurplecloudsarestillfaraway.Theoceanseemscalm

andthewindisnotcrazy.

Butthoseclouds…
“Comein!”Westcalls.“Stoplookingattheskyandcomein.It’sfuckingamazing,Victoria.It’s

warmandperfect.”

Thatpilotiscomingback.Iknowit.Wewerefriendlyontheflightdownhere.Hewaschattyand

happy.Therehastobesomekindoflogicalmistake.

Iwalkdowntowardsthebeachandtakeaseatinthesand.Westissmilingatme,shadinghiseyes.
“Maybewhateverwasgoingdownonthisislandwascancelledduetoweather,West?Doyouthink

that’swhythere’snoonehere?”

“He’scomingback,Tori.Justrelax.Comeinthewaterandhaveagoodtime.I’msureyoucould

useanicevacation.Thinkofitasaone-dayvacation.”

Thereisnologicalreasonforthatpilottonotcomeback.Iftherewasastormcomingherehe’d

knowaboutit.He’dhavewarnedus.Isn’tthatpartofhisjob?

Wedon’tevenhavefood.Andifthepowergoesoutwewon’thavewater,either.Hell,whoknows

howmuchwaterisevenavailablenow?

“Tori,”Westsays,walkingoutofthewater.Atleasthishard-onisgone.
“What?”Isay,notlookinguptomeethiseyes.
“It’sfine,”hesays,standingoverme.“Just…comeinthewaterandswimwithme.It’sfine.”
“Idon’twanttogetmyclotheswet.Ilovethisshirt.”
Westgrabsmyarmandpullsmetomyfeet.“Iloveittoo.Sojusttakeitoffand…andcomehave

somefun.”

ChapterTen-Weston

VictoriaAriasis…complicated.
Everythingaboutheriscomplexandconvoluted.She’samazeofemotionsandalabyrinthof

feelingsthatrequirescarefulnavigationorthewildcomesoutandcan’tbeputback.

“Tori,”Isayagainwhensheignoresme.She’sthinkingaboutthoseclouds.WhythefuckdidI

evenmentionit?

WhenshestayslostinherheadIjuststartunbuttoninghershirtmyself.
“West,”shesays,bothhersmallhandsclampingovermine.
“Don’tthinkaboutit,”Isay.
Shetakesadeepbreathandlooksupatme.Hervioleteyesaresostunning,Iwanttogetlostin

them.Herlipsarebeautiful.Plumpandluscious.Andherskinissmoothandperfect.Sheremindsme
somuchofthegirlImetthatfirstdaywespenttogether.NotthegirlImetthenightbeforewhenI
wasstrugglingwithsomanythingsandshewasweighingheroptions.

Thenightgirlandthedaygirlaretwodifferentpeople.
Thenightgirlisstrong,andresilient,andfearless.Butthegirlinthedaylightiseverything

oppositeofthat.Sheisscared,andvulnerable,andweak.

Thefirstnightwemetwesattogetherunderthosetwotreesinfrontoftheadministrationbuilding.

Singing.God,wasIreallythatdramaticbackthen?

Itwasabadnightforme.Oneoftheworstinmylife.Until,ofcourse,twodayslaterwhenlifejust

wentofftherails.

Toriwastherethroughthewholething.Ourworldsfellaparttogether.
“Ifeellike…”Shedoesn’tfinish,butshedoesn’tneedto.Icanpracticallyhearherheartbeating

faster.

Evenwithallherchecks-and-balancetendencies,VictoriaAriasisquicktocomeundone.Thereis

awildnessinsideherwhichcannotbetamed.Shecravescontrolbecausewhenshefeelsoutofcontrol
theworldhadbetterwatchout.Andwhenshegetsscared…well,thatwildgirlturnsferalinallthe
wrongways.

“It’sanafternoon,Tori,”Isay.“Oneafternooninparadisewithanoldfriend.Nothingmore,

nothingless.That’sallthisis.”

“But—”
Iplacemyfingersoverherlipsandstopherwords.“Justcomeswim.There’snothingwecando

aboutitbutadapt.”

“Icanadapt,”shesays,tryingtosoundconfident.
Butshecan’tadapt.She’sneverbeenoneofthosemalleablepeople,oneofthosegirlswhogoes

withtheflow.Sheistheflow.Sheisacurrentofelectricity.She’sdangerousandlife-savingatthe
sametime.

“Iknow,”Ilietoher.Sheneedsthelie.Becauseifwedogetstuckhereshewillpanic.AndIdon’t

everwanttoseethatpanicinhereyesagain.ThewholetimeweweretogetherItriedtomakeitgo
away.Itriedtoforceitoutofherlikeapriestexorcisingademon.Willitwithwords,andactionsthat
spokelouder.

Anditneverhelped.PeopleareaproductoftheirexperiencesandthethingsVictoriahadtoendure

happenedlongbeforeImether.Andafterdatingheronandoffforyears…afterchasingthose
demonsawaymoretimesthanIcancount…Icametotheconclusionthatshedoesn’twantmyhelp.
Shewantstodoitallonherown.

Andthatwasthat.Especiallyafterthatcontractshestole.Diditeveroccurtoherthatstealingmy

seven-million-dollardealwasthesamethingastakingthemoneyI’vebeenofferinghersincemy
businesstookoff?

No.
Andthatisjuststupid.
SoIleft.
Ican’tmakeherwantme.Ican’tmakeheracceptmyhelp,ormyprotection,ormypromises.I

can’tmakeherthinkI’mgoodforher.I’vetried,believeme,I’vetried.

AndI’mnotabouttotryagain.I’mnotsteppingintothatthanklessroleagain.WhatI’mdoingnow

isbeingselfish.IwanttogetthroughthisdaywithherandthenwalkoutthesamewayIdidwhenwe
finallybrokeupforgood.

Igotthemessageloudandclearthatnight.Shedoesn’tneedme.
“You’regoodatadapting,”Isay,continuingthelie.“Solet’sjustadapttothefactthattheychanged

thelocationoftheretreatandlivethisdaytothefullest.Howaboutthat?”

Victoriastopsstaringatherhand,stillclampedontomine,whichisstillabouttounbuttonhershirt

andtakeitoff.Shelooksup.

God,thosefuckingeyes.Icanonlyimagineallthemenwhohavelookedintothemandgottenlost.

Itdoesn’tmakemejealous,itmakesmeangry.

“OK?”Iask,tryingnottoseewhat’sbehindtheviolet.Ibegintounbuttonhershirtagainandthis

time,eventhoughonehandisstillonmine,shedoesn’tstopme.Sheholdsontomeuntilhershirtis
openandherlavenderbraistheonlythingbetweenus.

Ieaseitoverhershouldersandletitfloattothesand,thenreacharoundherbackandunzipher

skirt.Shedoesn’tfightmeatallthistime,justletsmewiggleitoverherhipsandstepsoutonceittoo
fallstothesand.

“Thewateriswarm,”Isay,takingherhandandleadingherdownthebeach.“Andlookatallthe

fish,Tori.”

She’slooking,concentratingreallyhardonthelittleflashesofcolorunderneaththeturquoiseblue

water.“Toobadwedon’thavesnorkelgear,”shesays,asweenterthewateranditsplashesherlegs.

“Ibetthathousehassomething.Wecanlooklaterifwewant.Comeon,”Isay,tuggingherdeeper

intotheocean.“Let’sswimtothatsandbarthatthinksit’sanisland.There’satreeforshade.Wecan
justrelaxoutthereforalittlebitandI’llcatchussomethingtoeat.”

“Please,”shelaughs.Thenshesquealsandjumpsasthewavessplashherbellyandchest.“Ican’t

evenpictureyoucatchingusafish.”

“Well,maybeyoudidn’tknowthis,butIworkedonaboatsettinglobstertrapswhenIwasakid.I

cancatchusdinner,Tori.Don’tyouworry.”

Shelaughsaswebegintoswim.“WhydoIhaveahardtimepicturingyouworkingforaliving?”
“Shit,”Isay,spittingoutsomesaltwater.“WhatdoyouthinkIdoallday?Sitonmyassandplan

myteetimes?”

“Imeanrealwork,Weston.Like…hardwork.Notdeskstuff.”
“Hmmm.”ShehasnoideawhoIam.Itwouldhurt,butIcan’tblameher.InevertoldherwhoI

reallyam.“Justwaitandsee,”Isay.“We’regonnabeeatinggoodthisafternoon.”

Shestayssilentafterthatandwejustconcentrateonswimmingouttothesandbar.Ilethergetthere

firstsoIcanwatchherwalkoutofthewater.Herpantiesperfectlymatchherlavenderbraandstickto
herass,whichmakesmehavetoclosemyeyestostopimaginingallthewaysI’dliketofuckher

again.

It’snotgoodtostartgettingideas,Weston.Justonedayandthenshe’sgone.
Victoriadropstoherkneesonthepristinewhitesandandthenturnsoverandliesback,herhand

cominguptohereyestoshieldthemfromthesun.

It’sherturntowatchmecomeoutofthewater.Shedoesn’thidethisfact,either.Juststaresatmy

chest,lingeringthereforasecondbeforedroppingdowntomydick.

“Don’tgetanyideas,”Isay.
“Aboutwhat?”shesays,annoyed.
“Iseethatlookonyourface.You’rewonderingifmydickisstillbig.”
Torilaughsandturnsoveronherstomach,herfaceproppeduponherforearms.
Idropdownnexttoher.Nottooclose.Becauseseriously,Ican’tfuckthisgirltoday.Ican’t.Ittook

memonthstogetoverher.Probablyclosetoayeartostopwantingher.Andit’sjustoneday.We’re
onsomekindofbreakrightnow,buttherealityis,we’retryingforthesamecontractandI’mnot
gonnaletherhaveit.Becauseifshegetsit—ifshetakesthatcontractfromme—myworldasIknow
itceasestoexist.Ican’tletthathappen.WhenwegetbacktothemainlandI’mcallingMysteriousand
gettinganotherlocationonWallace.

Iwillhavethisshitwrappedupbeforemidnight.

ChapterEleven-Victoria

Whyhim?That’sallI’vebeenaskingmyselfthewholeswimovertothesandbar.WhydidIhave

togetstuckonadesertedislandwithWestonConrad?

Icansaynotoanyone.I’mgoodatit,actually.Noismyfavoritewordthesedays.No,Ican’tpay

you,I’mbroke.No,Idon’twanttodateyou,I’mcelibate.No,youcan’thavemyservicesforfree,I
havemouthstofeed.No,there’snocandybeforebed,itwillrotyourteeth.Andno,youcan’tstayout
afterdarkbecausethat’sthelawofmomseverywhere.

Ihavenoonthetipofmytongueatalltimes.Ihardlyeversayyes.AndifIwassmart,I’dhave

saidnoyesterdaywhenthatstupidcallcamein.No,Iwillnotplayyourlittlegameandno,Iwillnot
tryforthiscontract.

ImightwantWesttothinkI’vegotachancetobeathimoutofthislittlecontestwefindourselves

in,butthetruthis,hewillwin.Healwayswins.Ican’tcompetewithhim.Theselegsarenotlong
enough,myskirtisnotshortenough,andmytitsarenotbigenoughtoconvinceanyonetochoose
meoverWestonConrad.Hehasalltheresources.Hehasallthecontacts.Andmostofall,hehasthe
reputationandpower.Isn’tthatwhattheylookforinpeopletodobusinesswith?Power?

Ican’tgetenoughofittomakethingsfavorme.Orhell,enoughtoeventheplayingfield.
It’shardtobeawomaninbusiness.Peopledon’tseemeaspowerful,eventhoughIam.Ihave

quiteabitofpowerincertainways.

It’sjustnotenoughcomparedtobig,badMr.Corporate.
WewillgetoffthisislandthiseveningandhewillgoonewayandIwillgotheotherandbythe

endofthenight,hewillhavewhathecamefor.

I’llbeleftwithnothing.That’showitalwaysends.I’musedtoit.
MaybeIhadanopportunitybeforethislittledesertedislanddebacle.Butthat’sif,andonlyif,I

couldgettoWallacefirst.Orsimultaneously,attheveryleast.Iwon’tgettohimfirstnow.He’snot
here.AndWestandIwon’tgettohimatthesametimeeither,becausehehasacesuphissleeveand
I’vegotnothingbutlow-valuecardswithnochanceatastraightflush.

“Hey,”Westonsays.He’slyingonthesandnexttome.Nottouchingme,ofcourse.He’skeeping

hisdistance,Icantell.AndthewholeNakedManjokeearlierisn’tenoughtoconvincemeI’mwrong.
Hesawthefearinmyeyes.HecouldseethatallthethoughtsIwastryingtokeepatbaywere
whirlingaroundinmyhead.HewastalkingmedownoffthatledgeIoftenfindmyselfon.

“What?”Isigh.
“DoyoureallythinkI’mnotaworker?”
“What?”Ihavetolaugh.“Why?”
Heshrugs.“Itbugsme.”
“YouandIcomefromverydifferentfamilies,Weston.It’snosecretthatIwasbroughtuponeway

andyouwerebroughtupanother.”

“You’resosureofthat?”
“ShouldInotbe?”
“I’mjustcuriouswhyyouthinkit.”
“MaybebecauseyourparentshaveahouseonCapeCod?Oryoudroveahundred-thousand-dollar

carincollege.OrthefactthatyouwereatBrownandnotonascholarship.”

“Sothatmakesmelazy.”
“Ineversaidyouwerelazy.Ijustcan’tpictureyouworkingonaboatformoney.”
“Howdoyoupicturemeworkingformoneyasateenager?”
“Idon’t.”Ilaugh.“Ican’timaginewhyyou’dneedtoworkasateen.Yourfatherdoesn’tseemlike

theI’m-gonna-make-an-example-out-of-youtype.”

“He’snot.”
“Sowhywork?”
“Iworkedforthesamereasonseveryoneworks.Tomakemoney.”
“Butyoudidn’tneedmoney,Weston.There’sabigdifferenceinworkingforanewcustompaint

jobforyourAstonMartinandwhatmostpeopleworkfor.”

“That’snotwhyIworked.”
“Whatever.YouknowwhatIwasworkingforwhenIwasakid,West?”
“Food,”heandIsayatthesametime.“I’vehearditallbefore,Victoria.Idon’tneedareminder.

AndIthinklobsterharvestingcountsasworkingforfoodaswell.”

“Well,Ican’twaittoseethis.”Isigh.“I’mnotgoingtoturndownyourofferoffreshlobster

becauseIhaveprinciples.”

“Ihaveprinciplestoo.Yousaythatlikeyou’retheonlypersonalivewithamoralcompass.”
“I’moneofthefew.”
“Andyetyouworethatskimpyskirtandlow-cutshirttoday.YouweregonnabaitWallacewith

yourclothesandyourbody.I’dhavetocallthosemoralsquestionable.”

Igetupandkicksandonhischest.“Fuckyou.”
WestgrabsmyfootandIgodownonmykneesinthesand.“There’snowheretowalkto,Tori.So

getoffyourhighhorseandjuststickitoutforonce.”

“God,Ihateyou.”Howdarehe.Ikickandheletsgo,avoidingmypunishment.“I’mswimming

back.Youcandowhateveryouwantwiththelobsters.”

Icrawloutofhisreachandthengettomyfeetandwalkbackintothewater.I’mnotastrong

swimmer,buttheoceanissmooth,clear,andshallowoverhere.Ourislandisonlyaboutahundred
yardsaway,soIknowI’llbeOKalone.

Alone.
God,Ihatethatword.
Ilookovermyshoulder,myheartflutteringforabriefsecond—hopingforanequallybrief

intervalthatWestwillfollowme.Buthedoesn’t.Hiseyesareclosedandhe’slyingthereinthesun
likehehasn’tgotacareintheworld.

Suckitupandswim,Victoria.
SoIdo.Andit’suneventfuleventhoughmymindisawhirlwindofcatastropheswaitingtohappen.

Sharks,oreels,orhell,whateverthereisinthiswaterthatcanhurtme.Myimaginationisin
overdriveandIpictureitallinmyheaduntilmyfeethitthesandontheoppositebeachandIwalk
out,shootingalookovermyshoulderatWeston.

He’sswimmingafterme.
Whichmakesmesmile.Ha.Itfeelslikeawin.
IshademyeyesasIwatchhim.He’sgothisfaceburiedinthewaterashislongarmsreach

throughthesmallwaveswithasmucheffortasafish.Thenhedivesunderanddisappears.

Istartcounting.One-one-thousand,two-one-thousand,three-one-thousand,four-one-thousand…

andwhenIgettoten-onethousandIstartyellinghisname.

“Weston?”Iscream,runningbacktowardsthewater.Istandontheedge,wonderingwhattodo.

There’snooneheretohelpme.Myheartstartsracingthesecondthatthoughtentersmyhead.

“Weston?”

Iimaginehisbodyfloatingup…orneverappearingagain.WhatifthatpilotcomesandWestis

gone?WhatwillItellhismomanddad?IwillhavetoadmitthatIwashereandIdidnothing.AndI
canjustseeMr.Conrad.Icanalmosthearhisaccusations.Hewasalwaysthereforyou,Tori.Why
weren’tyouthereforhim?

“West!”IscreamitlouderasIrunintothewaves.Idiveunderandalmostchokeonthesaltyseaas

itpushesitswayintomymouth,butrecoverandsurface,drawinginalongbreathofair.

Westislookingatme,thebiggestsmileonhisface.“Didyoujust…trytosaveme?”Helaughs.
Iopenmypalmandsplashwaterinhisface.“Fuckyou!Justfuckyou!Iwascallingyourname!

Youwereunderforliketwentyseconds!”

“Nottwentyseconds.”Hechuckles,wipingthewateroutofhiseyes.“JesusChrist,Tori.Itoldyou

Iworkedintheoceanasateenager.Icanholdmybreathforaminuteatleast.Youdon’tneedtofreak
outaboutatwenty-seconddive.”Hishandcomesoutofthewaterandhe’sholdingupalobster.“They
liveinthecracksbetweentherocks.Thesewarm-waterlobstersaren’tasgoodastheonesupinNew
England,butthey’lldo.”

Iletoutalongbreathandmutter,“Ihateyou.”
“Iknow,”hesays,good-naturedly.“ButI’llstilltakecareofyouifyou’realone,Tori.Don’t

worry.Iwon’tcheckoutuntilyou’resafe.”

HeswimspastmeandcoverstheshortdistancebacktothebeachbeforeIcanevenworkoutwhat

thosewordsmightactuallymean.

He’smad,Iknowthat.MaybebecauseIthoughthewaslyingaboutthelobsters.Ormaybebecause

Iprettymuchaccusedhimofbeinglazy.OrmaybebecauseIdon’tthinkI’msafehereonthisisland
andhe’stakingitpersonally.

Itdoesn’tmatter.Anyandallofthosereasonsaregoodones.AnditjustshowsmethatIwasright

towalkoutonhimthreeandahalfyearsago.Iwasright.Iknowwhat’scoming.Anentiredayfilled
withWestonConrad’scavemanprotection.HoursandhoursofhiminsinuatingthatI’mhelpless,or
careless,orstupid.Oralloftheabove.

WestisalreadywalkingbacktowardsthelittlehousewhenIgetbacktothebeach.Ipickupmy

shirtandskirtandcarrythemasIfollowthelittlefootpath.

MyeyesareonWest’sback,hisrippledmusclesandhisbroadshoulders.
Ihavelotsofreasonstohatehim.Ido.Butonlyonematters.WestonConradissexist.
Hebelieveswomenshouldstayhomeandraisechildren.Nothavebothacareerandchildren,mind

you.Butliterallystaythehellhomeandraisechildren.Whenhetoldmethatafewweeksintoour
relationshipIthoughthewaskidding.Iactuallylaughed.

Buthewasserious.Andwefoughtoverthisallthetime.
IfWestandIhadstayedtogetherI’dbeastay-at-homemother.Mylifewouldconsistofchildren,

havingdinneronthetablewhenhegothomefromwork,andrunningthehousehold.

Thiswasn’taguessonmypart.I’mnotmakingthisup.Hesaidthistome.Facetoface,oneyear

intoourrelationship.Wehadbeenfightingmoreandmoreaboutwherewewereheadingasacouple.
WestwasbecomingdistantandIchallengedhim.Accusedhimofcheating.

Hedeniedit—Ibelievedhim—andsaidthiswashismajorhang-upwithme.
Hewantsawifewhoiscomfortableinherrole.
Role.
Thatwordstillburnsme.ThemomentthatcameoutofhismouthIseethed.Isawred.Ithrew

platesathim.Ithrewmystilettosathim.

Ineveractuallyhithimwiththeplatesorshoes.ButIdiddumpallhisshitoutonthelawnand

makeasceneinfrontoftheneighbors.

Thecopscame—Westonwaspissedoffoverthat.AndIdon’tblamehim.Thosechargeswerestill

hangingoverhimatthatpointintime.Hewastakentothestationandquestioned.Ihadtogodown
thereandadmitthatitwasmostlymemakingthescene.Theywrotemeaticket.

God.
ThisiswhathappenswhenWestonConradandIspendtoomuchtimetogether.
I’mnotinterestedinfulfillinganyone’sprescribedrole.I’mnotinterestedinbeingsomeone’s

subordinate.I’mnotinterestedinmarryingmyboss.I’mtheboss.Ihavemyowncompany,failing
thoughitis.I’mtheboss.Nothim.AndIwon’tgetcaughtinhistrapagain.Notevenforanafternoon.

I’llkeepyousafe,Tori.Iwon’teverletanyonehurtyou.Youwillneverhavetoworryaboutthat

kindofstufffromme.

No.He’sright.Iwouldn’t.BecauseI’dbehislittletrophywife.Lockedawayinsomefancyhouse

withnorealfriends,onlytheawfulgirlsfromthecountryclubtokeepmymindoffgoingmad.I
don’tevenknowgirlsfromacountryclub,butI’massumingthey’dallbegoodlittleStepfordWives
aswell.

I’dratherdiethanlivethatlife.
Die.

ChapterTwelve-Weston

God,whydoIlethergettomesobadly?WhydoIcarethatshethinksI’msomeprivilegedrich

bastardwhoneedstogethiswayateveryturninordertobehappy?

I’mnotlikethat.
IsighasIpullopencupboardslookingforapottoboilthelobsterin.There’snoovenhere,

otherwiseI’djustbroilit.Ifindoneinthelastcupboardanddropitintothestainless-steelsinkwitha
loudclang,thenwatchitfillupwithwaterasIstudythecutsonmyhandfromthelobster ’sspines.

Thepainthatcomeswithmyprizefeelsgood.IttakesmebacktoallthosesummersIspentonthe

boat.IwasonlyalittlekidwhenIstartedharvestinglobstersandIdidn’thaveaboat.Noonehiresa
kidthatagetohelpwiththeirbusiness.SoIcaughtmyownlobsters.Igotbustedforsellingthemthe
secondsummer.Ididn’tknowitwasillegal.Ididn’tevenhaveapermitthatfirstsummer.Ididn’t
knowanythingaboutharvestinglobsters.Ijustgotlucky.

ButthesecondsummerIgotcaughtandhadtoappearincourt.Myfatherwaspissedoff.Butthe

judgelikedmyentrepreneurialspiritandtoldmetogofindaguynamedRustydownonthedocks
nearmyhouse.

SoIdid.AndIgothired.Iwasinchargeoficingthelobstersoncetheywerecaught.I’dtakethe

catchanddumpitinthehugechestsfilledwithicewater,dunkingthemuntiltheystoppedmoving.

Myhandswerefilledwiththelittlepricksfromspinesthatsummer.Someonegavemeapairof

glovesafewweeksin,butbythenI’dlearnedhowtoavoidthespinesandIdidn’tcareforthegloves
inthehotsummersun.

Ilikedthatjob.Ilikedthewayitmademefeel.LikeIwasindependent.LikeIwasincontrolofmy

future.Istilllikeworkforthosetworeasons.

Ispentsevensummersworkingonthatboat.RightupuntilIwentawaytoboardingschoolinthe

eighthgrade.

Victoriacomesintothehouse,clutchinghersilkshirtandhershortskirtinherhands.Shelooksat

me,thenmyhands,whicharestilloutinfrontofme,palmsup.

“You’rebleeding,”shesays.
“Yeah.”Iturnbacktothepotandshutoffthewater.“Theyhavespines.Butdon’tfeelbadforme,

Victoria.I’msureinyourheadIprobablydeservethepain.”

“Don’tbeadick.Please.Ifwehavetospendthisdaytogether,justdon’tbeadick.”
“HowamIbeingadick?”IaskasIplacethepotofwateronthestovetop.“I’mnotdoinganything

butbeingnice.”

“Idon’twanttohearyourpitch,Weston.”
“Ihavenocluewhatyou’retalkingabout.”Igolookingforsalttoputintothewaterbutcomeup

empty.

“‘Iwon’tcheckoutuntilyou’resafe,Tori,’”shesays,mimickingmyvoiceinanunflatteringway.

“Younevercheckedin,WestonConrad.Soyoucan’tcheckout.”

“OK,”Isayback.It’snousehavingadomesticfightwithawomanlikeVictoriaArias.Icannot

win.Ever.

Shehuffssomeairandmutters,“Patronizingasshole,”justunderherbreath.
Ichoosetoignorethat.Iwillnottakeherbait.Iwillnotbethelobsterinherpot.Iwillnothave

thisfightagain.Notever.I’msosickofit.AndIprobablyshould’vegivenherthiscontract.Bowed
outofthecompetitionandjustgivenittoher.ThenI’dbesomewhereelserightnowandwewouldn’t
bestuckheretogetherallday.

ButIcan’taffordtogiveittoher.Shehasnoideawhatlosingthiscontractwouldmeantome.

None.

VictoriadisappearsinthebathroomandthenexttimeIlookoveratthepot,thewaterisboiling.So

Icheckmywatchandtakethisopportunitytoplungethelobsterinthewaterheadfirst,cappingit
tightlywithalidtoavoidanysplashing.Ishould’vegottentwo,Irealize.Oneisnotreallyenoughto
feedusboth.ButVictoriawasscreamingmynamelikeshewasinapanicwhenIcameupandI
forgottogobackdown.It’sjustasnack,right?Thatpilotwillcomebackinafewhours.Wewillget
throughthisafternoonofuncomfortableness.AndIcangrabdinnerafterIgetbacktomyhoteland
reassessmystrategy.

IcouldjustignoreVictoriafortherestoftheday.Letherspewhershit.ButI’mnotgoingto.Her

insultsare…well,insulting.Sofuckher.

“Isitalmostdone?”Toriasks,reappearing.Icheckmywatchandrealizefiveminuteshavegone

by.

“Wedon’thaveanybutter,orsalt,orpepper,orwhateveryoulikeonyourlobster.Soyeah,I

guessit’sdone.”

ShewatchesmeasItakeitoutanddomybesttocutopentheshellwiththedullknifeIfindina

drawer.Oncethemeatisexposed,Ihandheraforkandshedigsin.

“Aren’tyougoingtoeat?”Toriasks,whenIdon’tjoinher.
“I’llgobackandgetanotheronelater.I’mnothungry.”
“Gottafeedthewomenfirst,right?”shesays,thesarcasmnotabsentfromhertone.
Ilookatherforamoment.Alongmoment.
“What?”sheasks.“That’showyouoperate,right?Mr.BigStrongManhastoprotecttheweak

littlewoman?”

“Youknow,”Isay,“Igetwhyyou’relikethis.Iprobablyunderstanditbetterthanmost.Butyou’re

arealbitch,Tori.Idon’tknowwhyyouthinkI’msuchanasshole,butthat’syourprerogative.So
you’rewelcometoyouropinion.”

“Comeoffit,Weston.YouknowyouhatethatI’mhere.ThatI’mmakingyoufightforsomething

youthoughtwasowedtoyou.Youknowitburnsyourasstohavetocompetewithawoman.”

“Right.Igotallthatthelasttimewefought.I’mapig,you’reavictim—”
“Fuckyou,”shesays,almostchokingonherbiteoflobster.
“Hey,you’retheonewhowantsittobethisway.”
“You’retheonewhosaidI’dbeyourlittlestay-at-homewifeifwecontinuedtodate.”
“So?”
“So?”shesneersatme.“SoIdon’twanttobesomeone’sproperty.”
“Icalledyouproperty?”Ilaughoutloud,arealniceguffawthatechoesoffthehighceiling.“I

offeredtotakecareofyouandyoupracticallyspitinmyface.”

“Idon’twanttobetakencareof,”shesnaps.
“Yeah,becauseyoudosuchagoodjobtakingcareofyourself.”
Sheslapsmyface.Hard.Shegoestodoitagain,butIgrabherwrist.Shetriestokneemeinthe

balls,butIturntotheside,grabherotherwrist,thenwalkherovertothecouchandthrowherdown.

“Don’tfuckwithme,Tori.I’mnotgonnaputupwithyourshit.I’mnotyourfuckingpunchingbag

anymore,youunderstand?”

Thetearswellupinhereyesalmostimmediately.NotbecauseIhurtherwhenIgrabbedherwrists.

BecauseIhurtherwithmywords.“Ihateyou,”shewhispers.

“Iknow,”Isayinalowvoice.“You’vemadethatabundantlyclearovertheyears.”
IwalktothedoorandI’mjustabouttopullitopenwhenshesays,“Youlovedit,didn’tyou?”
Idon’teventurntolookather.“Ilovedwhat?”Myshoulderstenseup.Myjawclenchesasonefist

ballsuphardandtheothergripsthedoorknoblikeIwanttoripitoff.

“ThefactthatyouwererightandIwaswrong.Youloveditbecauseitfitintoyourstupid

worldviewthatIcouldn’ttakecareofmyself.”

NowIdoturn.BecauseI’mpissed.Ipointmyfingeratherface,lookherstraightintheeyesand

say,“IfyoureallythinkthatIfelt…vindicated,ortriumphant,orwhateverthehellitisyouthinkIfelt
whenIfoundoutyougotattacked,well”—Iforceameanlaugh—“thenI’lljusttakethisopportunity
towalkoutofyourlifeandnevercomeback.”

SoIdo.Iwalkout,slamthedoorbehindme,andkeepgoinguntilIgettothebeach.
Iknowthere’sanislandwithmorestructuresthanthisoneacouplemilesaway.There’sthreeor

fourlittlecaysbetweenthisoneandthatone,soit’snotevengoingtobehardforaguylikemewho
grewupintheocean.

I’mgoingtoabandonVictoriaArias.
Leaveherheretofendforherself,justlikeshewants.
WhoamIkidding?
Thatbitch.ShehasafuckingholdonmethatIcan’tseemtocut.
Andbesides,Ireason,lookingtothenorth,it’sstartingtorainandmaybethatbigstormisn’there

yet,butthefrontofitis.AndjustasIthinkthatthought,theskyopensup,therainpeltingmeinthe
face.

Bitch.
IknowdamnwellI’dneverleaveheralone,evenifshedoesn’t.

ChapterThirteen-Victoria

I’mstillrecitingallthereasonswhyforcingWestonConradoutofthishousewasagoodidea

whenthelightningstrikesandthewholeplaceshakessohard,Iscream.

I’mstillscreamingwhenWestcomesbackyelling,“Holyfuck!AreyouOK?”
“Whathappened?”Ihavetoholdontothekitchencounterbecausemylegsareshaking.
“Thefuckinghousejustgothitwithlightning!Isawit.Thatantennaisn’tanantenna.Itmustbea

lightningrod.”

“Oh,myGod.It’sraining.”No,notraining.It’spouringoutside.
“Iguessit’sagoodthingIdidn’ttrytoswimtotheotherisland,”Westsays.
“Youweregoingtoswimaway?”Thatselfishfucker!
“Isn’tthatwhatyou—”
ButanotherlightningstrikeboomsthroughthehouseandIstartleagain.“Howmanytimescanit

strikethatrodbeforeitsendsusupinflames?”

“Tons,”Westsays,ashewalksovertomeandpullsmeintohischest.“Likethousandsoftimes,

Victoria.Really.It’sfine.It’sjustagoodthingtheyhaveit,right?Otherwisetheroofwouldbeonfire
rightnow.”

IpryWest’sarmsfromaroundmeandwalkovertothewindow.Thatmassofpurplecloudsisstill

offinthedistance,butthat’snotstoppingtherollingthunderheadsdirectlyaboveusfromdoingtheir
thing.Whatarethechancesthatthepilotwillcomebackforusnow?

Ican’tevengothere.
“Thepowerisout,”Westsays,flickingthelightswitchonandoff.
“We’restuck,”Isayquietly.“Forreal.We’restuckouthere.Whatifthatpilotguythinkswegota

ridehomefromsomeoneelseandjustforgetsaboutus?”

“Maybethestormwillblowoverinacouplehours?”Westsaysquickly.“Vladwillcallthe

coastguard…orwhoeverthecoastguardisintheBahamas.Orourcoastguardwillcalltheir
coastguardandsomeonewillcomelooking.Don’tworry.We’renotstuck.”

“I’mnotgoingtoflipout,West.Soyoucanjuststoplyingtome.”
“Look,Victoria”—Westlaughs—“youflipoutonaregularbasisoverthestupidestthings.Doyou

reallythinkI’llbelievethatthiswon’tbringbackyourpanicattacks?”

“Whyareyousomean?”Really?Whydoeshehavetobringthatupeverytimesomethinggoes

wrong?

WestlooksatthedoorandIrealizehewantstowalkoutagain.Buthecan’t.He’sstuckherewith

me.That’swhathe’sthinking.

AndcanIblamehim?Iamabasketcasewhenitcomestocertainthings.Ihaveverygoodreasons

formypanicattacksandIhaveverygoodreasonswhyIhatebeingalone.ButIcanbe…alittle…
high-strungincertainsituations.

IthinkI’mholdingittogetherprettywellrightnow.
UntilIrealizemybreathingispickingupandI’msweatinglikecrazy.Thehumidityinthishouse

justwentuplikeathousandpercent,somaybethat’sallitis?

Butmypulseisracingandmypalmsaresweaty,andthenmyheadispoundingtothebeatofmy

heartandthingsgoblurry…

“Victoria,”Westsaysintomyear.“Listentome,”hesaysintheotherone.Iwaitforhimto

squeezemyshouldersthewayheusedtobackwhenweweretogether.Iwantit.Iwanthimtodoall
thosefamiliarthingsthatcomfortme.Iwanthimtosliphisfingersintomybraandsqueezemy
breastswhilehismouthgoestoworkonmyneck,andmyearlobe,andmylips.

I’mcertainthathewillnotcontinue,butI’mwrong.Hecupstheroundmuscleofmyshouldersand

kissesthesoftskinofmyear.

“What?”Isay.Itcomesoutasawhisper,filledwithsomanythingslikewant,andneed,and

desperation.

“We’refine.I’mhere.You’renotalone.Peopleknowwhereweare.Andevenifwedogetstuckon

thisislandtonight,we’llbebackonthemainlandbytomorrow.Doyouunderstand?”

Hishandsliftoffmyshoulders,whichjustmakesmewanthimmore.“Iwanttobelieveyou.”
“Sojustbelieve.”
Iturntofacehim,becauseifIdon’the’sgoingtobackoffandthismomentwillpass.Idon’twant

themomenttopass.Andnotbecauseofmyracingheartormyspinningworld.Idon’twanthimto
backoffbecause…histouch.God,hisfuckingtouch.It’ssomethingI’vemissedsomuchandIdidn’t
evenknowituntilthismomentrightnow.“Whyisitalwaysoneortheotherwithus,West?”

Helooksdownatmeandsmiles.Hishandscomeuptomyneckandhegentlydragsmylongdark

hairoffmyshoulders,arrangingitthewayhelikestodowhenhe’sgettingreadytokissme.“Why
arewesohotandcold?Whyarewesoonandoff?Soallornothing?Friendsorenemies?”

“Yeah,”Isay,placingmyhandsonhisbiceps.He’salwaysbeencut.Hismuscleshavealwaysbeen

tautandhisbodylean.Istareathiseyes.Brown.Theyarebrown,likehishair.SonondescriptwhenI
saythewordinmyhead.ButnothingaboutWestonConradisordinary.Hisfaceismodel-perfect,his
jawlinesquareandstrong.

Eventhestubbleonhischeeksandchinistheperfectlengthtodrivemecrazy.Ihavefeltthat

stubblebetweenmylegsmoretimesthanIcancount.Ihaveplacedmyhandsonittocomforthim
duringthosetwoyearshewasaccusedofthingsIknowhe’sneverbeencapableof.

Iknowhim.
Heknowsme.
“Becausewe’reequals,Victoria.You’veneverunderstoodthat.You’vealwaysthoughtIwantedto

controlyouandIdon’t.”

“Equals,huh?”Iask.
“Oneverylevel.”
Isighandremovemyhandsfromhisarms.Backaway.Becausehe’spullingmeintohisspell.He’s

charmingmewithhiswordsandpromises,andIknowtheyarelies.Ifwe’reequalsthenwhydoeshe
havesomanyrules?Ifwe’reequals,thenwhydon’tIknoweverythingabouthispast?He’stoldme
some,butnotall.Hegetsthisvacantlookonhisface,liketalk-timeisover,wheneverIpushtoofar.

Sowe’renotequals.
Hewantsthepowerandheonlysticksaroundifhehasit.

ChapterFourteen-Weston

“Hey,”Isay,reachingforherbeforeshegetsaway.“Comehere.”
Victoriaputsherhandsuptomychestlikeshe’sgoingtopushmeback.Butwhentheyconnect

withmyskin,theydon’thaveanyforcetothem.Theyrestthere,flatonmypecs,fingerssplayed.Her
headbowslikeshe’sembarrassedandItakethatopportunitytopullherintoahug.

God,thewayshesmellsalmostdrivesmeinsane.Whenshedoesn’tresistandplacesherheadon

myshoulder,Iburymyfaceinherhair.

“I’vemissedthis,”Isay.
Shesighs.Iknowshe’smissedthistoo,buttherearesomanythingsbetweenus.Thesexwasnever

theproblem.Itwasouropinionsandideasaboutthefuturethatcamebetweenus.Nottomentionall
herpushyquestionsaboutmypast.Sometimesaguyjustneedsafewsecrets.Whyisthatsohardto
understand?

I’mjustabouttopullaway,backoffandgivehersomeroom,whensheturnsherheadandkisses

meonthecheek.

Iturnmyheadtoo,justenoughtofindherlips.Andthen…andthen…myhandshaveherfaceand

mymouthhashertongue.HerhipspushintomineandIwalkherbackwardsafewsteps,untilshe
reachesthecouchandhastosit.

Idroptomyknees,myfingerseagertoslipunderthewaistbandofherpanties.AndthenIam

pullingthemdownherlong—sofuckinglong—legs.ItossthemovermyshoulderasIlickmylips
andstareintohereyes.Shewantstoclosethem,Icantell.Shewantstoclosehereyes,andleanher
headback,andletmelickherpussyuntilshecomes.

Butshewantstowatchtoo.Herfingersthreadthroughmyhair,urgingmetokeepgoing.SoI

openherlegs,liftherkneesuptowardshertits,andsweepmytongueupanddownherpussyuntilshe
letsgoofmyhairanddigsherfingernailsintomyshoulders.

“Keepgoing?”Iask.“OramIsmotheringyouwithmyexpectations?”
“Shutup,”shesays,digginghernailsintomyskin.“Justshutup.”
IlaughasIdipbackdownbetweenherlegs.“Tori,”ImurmurasIkissherwetfolds.
“Notalking,West.I’mserious.”
“Tori,”Isayagain.“TellmeyoumissedthisorI’mgoingtostop.”
Herthighssqueezetogether,clampingdownonmyface,andshebucksherhips,tryingtoget

morefriction,moretongue,moreeverything.“You’renotstopping.You’rejusttryingtobean
asshole.”

“Sayit,”Ichokewhenshesqueezestighter.Ilickher,flickingmytongueacrossherclituntilher

griponmyfaceloosens.“SayitorI’llrubmystubbleallovertheinsideofyourthighs.”

Herfootsmacksmylowerback.“Whyareyousuchajerk?Stoptalkingandstartlicking,Mr.

Conrad.OrI’mgoingtogetupandwalkaway.”

“No,youwon’t,”Isay,reachingupwithonehandtosqueezehertitsasmyotherhanddips

betweenherlegs.Ipushafingerinsideher,makinghermoan.“Iknoweverywaytomakeyoumelt,
MissArias.Sodon’tchallengemeduringsex.”

“We’renothavingsex.Becauseyou’restilltalking.”
Ipinchhernippleandherwholebackarches.

“Sayit,”Idemand,liftingmyheadupandwithdrawingmyfinger.“Sayitorwe’llstop.”
“Oh,forfuck’ssake,Weston.Justshutthehellup!”
Ipullbackandletherlegsdrop.
“Don’t,”shesays,pointingherfingeratmyface.
Ismackitaway.“WhathaveItoldyouaboutthatfuckingfinger?”
“IsweartoGod,West.Ifyoustartedthistopissmeoff,Iwillneverletyoutouchmeagain.”
“Letme?”Ilaugh.“Shit.”
“Yes,letyou.I’mtheoneincontrol—”
Shestopstalking,becauseI’vegotmydickoutandI’mthrustingitinsideherbeforeshecanfinish.
“Letme,MissArias?Sayno.Idareyou.”Ipumpherhardthreetimes.Iliftherkneesbackupand

leanmychestdownontoherfullbreastsandkisshermouth.

“Iwill,”shewhispers,herwordsnothingbutasoftbreaththatpassesbetweenourlips.
“Idareyou,”Iwhisperback.“Idareyoutotellmeno.BecauseI’llstop.Don’tthinkIwon’t.”
ShemoansasIcontinuetofuckher.
“Sayit,”Icommand.“Lastchance,wildthing.Lastchance—”
Sheslapsmyface,getsherfootinbetweenherselfandmychest,andkicks.Igoflyingbackonmy

ass,myhandsreachingouttopreventmyheadfromhittingthehardfloor,andshebolts.

I’mup,chasingher,beforesheevenmakesittothekitchen.Igrabheraroundherwaistandlifther

offherfeet,plantingherassonthecounterasshesqueals.

Sheslapsmyfaceagain,butIgrabbothherwristsandholdthemtightlytogether.
“Sayit,Victoria.Imeanit.”
“Idon’thavetosayit.”
“Yeah,youdo.”
“Idon’thaveto,Weston.Because…Because…”Thenshedeflatesandsoftens.Herheadrestson

myshoulderandshewhispers,“Becauseyouknowyou’retheonlymanIgetofffor.”

Oh,I’mnotevengoingthere.IfIstartthinkingabouthowmanymenshe’sfuckedsincewebroke

up,Imightkillsomeone.

“So,”shecontinues,“everytimeyoumakemecomeI’msayingit,West.Can’tyoujustbehappy

withthat?”

Iletherwinbecausethat’sthekindofguyIam.
Generous.Magnanimous.Benevolent.
AndIwanttofuckherhardrightnow.
SoIliftherupandcarryherbacktothecouch,placingherinfrontofmethesamewayshewas

beforesheran.Thecouchistheperfectheightformetolickherpussy.It’stheperfectheightforme
toramhergoodwhileI’monmyknees.It’stheperfectmixtureofsoftandhard,comfortableand
cramped.

Justlikeus.
VictoriaisallfemininefluffandIameverybitthedominantmaleshehates.
“Ihavethepowerhere,”Isay,shovingmycockinsideheragain.
“Shutup,”shemoans.Herhandsgripmyneckandpullmeclose.Hermouthfindsmineandwe

kissitallaway.

Allthehateandallthefeargoesoutofherinaninstant.
ButIwon’tstopthere.IlikeitthewayIlikeit.Andshecanprotestallshewants,shelikesitthat

waytooorshewouldn’tbeparticipating.SoIsay,“Tellmeyoumissedthis,Victoria.OrI’llbring
youtotheedgeofecstasyandleaveyouhanging.”

“Whatever,”shemoans,buckingherbackup,tryingtostimulateherclitwithfrictionagainstmy

lowerstomach.“Imissedyou.”

Ipulloutandcomeonherstomach,laughing.
“Youasshole!Youbetternot—”
“I’msorry,”Isay,tryingtostopthechuckles.“I’msorry.I’llmakeituptoyou.ButallIwanted

youtosayisthatyoumissedthesex.Andyousaidyoumissedme.Whichisahundredtimesbetter.”

Shestartskickingagain,butIgrabherlegwithonehandandreachforherpantieswiththeother.I

wipethemacrossherstomachtocleanherup,thentossthemaside.“Stop,”Icommandquietly.“I’m
gonnamakeyoucomenow,sostop.”

ChapterFifteen-Victoria

Heinfuriatesme.Iwanttokickhimawayandslaphisface.
Buthistongue,andhishands,andhispromisemakemestill.Idon’tevenspeak.Ican’tspeak

becausehisfaceisburiedbetweenmylegsandIcan’tevenbemadathim.He’smakingmefeelway
toogoodtobemadathim.

Imoan.
Hesweepshistonguearoundintightcircles.Hisfingerspushintome.Hisotherhandispumping

hiscock,makinghimselfhardformeagain.

“West,”IsayasmyfingersfindhishairandIgrabfistfulsofit.Hedoesn’tanswerme.Ishouldn’t

evenwanthimtoanswerme.BecausethatwouldmakehimstopandIdon’twanthimtostop.“Don’t
stop.”

Ilookdownbetweenmylegsashelooksup,hislipscurledintoaslysmile,hiseyesfilledwith

lust,andmischief,andpower.

OK,hewins.I’llgivehimthat.Hewins.
Idon’tevenmindthathewon.ItusuallyfeelsgoodtobenexttoWestonConradwhilehe’s

winningafightbetweenus.Itusuallyinvolvessweating,andwrithing,anddeclarationsoflove.

Iclosemyeyesandrestmyheadback.Ijustenjoyit.Hiswinismywinrightnow.Iletthe

shudderingpleasuresweepthroughmybodyasheworkshismouthagainstmywetpussy.Iallowthe
wholeexperiencetobuild,moaningashelicksandsucksandthenreachesuptosqueezemytits.

Everythingisthesameasitwas.
Everythingiscompletelydifferent.
Thewholeworldceasestoexistandtheonlythingthatmattersishim.Andus.Andnow—right

now.

“Tori,”hemurmursagainstmyclit.
“Oh,God,”Isay.“Don’tstarttalkingnow,youidiot.”
HepullshisfaceawayandforamomentIhaveashockoffearthathewilldepriveme.Punishme

forbeingrude.

Buthedoesn’t.Hepumpshiscockonemoretime,letsmegetagoodlookatit—fullyerectandas

beautifulasacockcanbe—andeasesintomesoslowly,Ihavetomeethimhalfwaybyliftingmy
hips.

“Nowit’syourturn,”hesays,loweringhischestontomybreastsandkissingmymouth.“God,

I’vemissedyoutoo.”

Thatconversationseemsyearsawayfromthismoment.Ican’tevenrecallwhywewerefighting

orwhatthestakeswere.Ican’trecallanythingbutrightnow.Thismoment.Iamdrunkonhisdick.I
amlostinhisworldofcarnalpleasures.Heistheonlythingthatmatters.Heistheonlythingthathas
evermattered—

“Wait,”Isay,pushingbackonhischest,strugglingtogethimoffme.“Wait.Stop.”
“Whatthefuck,Tori?”
He’snottheonlythingthatmatters.Whatthehelliswrongwithme?
Igetafootbetweenusandheknowswhat’scoming.HetriestogetoffbeforeIgetinposition,but

he’stoolate.Iflattenmyfootonhispecsand—

Hegoesflyingbackwards,landingonhisassaboutfourfeetaway.
“Whatthefuck?”Westyells.“WhatdidIdonow?”
Ishakemyselfoutofthestuporhiscockputsmeinandgetup,lookingaroundformyclothes.I

stillhavemybraon,andIfindmypantiescoveredinsemennexttothecouch.

“GoodGod,Weston.Didyouhavetousemypantiesasyourcomerag?”
Westisonhisfeetagain,hisfacefilledwithanger,andrage,and…regrets.“You’reacrazybitch,

youknowthat?”

“I’msorry,OK?I’msorry.It’sjust…Ican’tdothiswithyou,Weston.Notnow.Ihavepriorities

andyou’recloudingmymind,asusual.”

“Clouding…”Butheletsitgo.Justshakeshisheadbackandwalksovertohisclothes,picksthem

upinawhoosh,andgoesintothebathroom,slammingthedoorbehindhim.

It’sthenthatIrealizeit’sdark.Not,like,forrealdark.Itcannotbelaterthantwointheafternoon.

Butit’sdarkoutside.Thereisaragingstorm.Thetreesnearthesmallhousearebeatingagainstthe
windows.Lightningisflashingoffinthedistance,butatleastit’snottryingtoburnourshelterdown.

Islidemyskirtupmylegsandzipitupintheback,thenstraightenmybraout.Westhadpulledthe

cupsdownsomytitswerepushinguptowardsmychin.Iputthesilkshirton,thentakeitoffagain
whentheheatandhumidityinsidethisroom—heatandhumiditywesurelycreatedduringourten
minutesoffun,eventhoughit’sgottobefromthestorm—threatenstosuffocateme.

Ijusttakemypantiestothesinkand—fuck.Ican’tevenwastewaterwashingthem.Ifthere’sstill

waterinthepipeswe’llneedittodrink.

Istufftheminmypursejusttogetthemoutofsight.
Mylobsterlunchiscoldandrubbery,butIeathalfofitanyway.Ifeelfamished,butit’snotfairto

eatthewholethingsinceit’stheonlyfoodwe’lllikelygettoday.

Iknowthatpilotisn’tcomingback.Ihaveabadfeelingaboutthistrip.Ihaveabadfeelingabout

thatphonecallIgot.IhaveabadfeelingaboutwhyWallaceArlingtonisn’thereonthisislandtoday.I
haveabadfeelingaboutVladthepilot.Thatcannotbehisrealname.NooneiscalledVladintheUS.

Thetoiletflushes,audibleevenoverthewindoutside.Westcomesoutofthebathroom,stillonly

wearingthosehotblackboxerbriefsandnothingelse.

“Youflushedthetoilet?”Iask.
“Usuallythat’swhatyoudoafteryoupiss,Tori.”
“StopcallingmeTori.AndIjustdecidednottowashmypantiestoconservewater.Youdon’t

knowhowlongwe’llbehere.Howdareyouusethatwater—”

“Justshutup,forfuck’ssake.”
“Oh,fuckyou.SoIsaidno.Getoverit.”
“That’snotwhyI’mpissed.”
“Thenwhy?”
Heletsoutalongbreathandwalksovertothekitchentopokethehalf-eatenlobsterwithhis

finger.Hedoesnoteatwhat’sleft.

“Why?”Iask.“Whyareyoumad?”
“Forgetit,”hesays,walkingovertothedoor.
“Whereareyougoing?There’saragingstormoutthere.”
“WehavetoeatandIneedtoseehowmuchwaterisleftinthecatchsystem.”Helooksatmewitha

sadface.I’veupsethim.Andifitisn’tbecauseIsaidno,thenwhat’supwiththatlook?“Andthestorm
isonlygoingtogetworse.Somightaswelldoitnow.”

Heopensthedoorandleavesmethere.

ChapterSixteen-Weston

Therainpeltsme,andthewindissostrongitfeelslikelittlestinginginsects.Iwalkaroundthe

buildingandfindthecisternIsawonthewalkbackfromthebeach.Therehastobewaterinthere.
There’snowhereelseforwatertocomefromonthisislandexceptarainwatercatchsystem.Evenif
thereisn’tmuch,therewillbeenoughwiththisstorm.Butit’sbettertoknowhowmuchwehave
beforewestartusinganymoreofit.

Iclimbuptheladdertotheelevatedtankandspotsolarpanelsontheroof.Twoofthemare

shatteredfromthelightning.Butthat’slessthanhalf.Sohopefullythere’ssomekindofrestartbutton
ontheACloadcontrollerthatwillkickthebatteriesbackonline.

“Whatareyoudoing?”Victoriayellsoverthewind.
Iignoreher.ThatwasashittymovebackinsideandI’mquitepissedoffatherrightnow.Igetit,

we’reincompatible.Butshe’ssofuckingclueless.

“West!”sheyellsagainasIreachtheroofandgrabholdofasolarpaneltosteadymyselfinthe

wind.“Weston!Getdown,you’regoingtoblowofftheroof.”

“Gobackinside,Victoria.Idon’tneedyournaggingrightnow.”
Idon’thearheranswer,butwhenIlookovermyshoulder,she’sgone.Good.I’vehadabout

enoughofherforoneday.

Icheckthewiringofthepanels,deducethatthetwothatwerehithaveprettymuchfuckedthe

system,andgiveup.

ButwhenIclimbdownInoticeadooronthebackofthehouse.
Bingo.Wehaveagenerator.
Whoeverbuiltthisplacethoughtaheadandhadplentyofmoney.Iknowhowtorunthisshit—Ihad

alotofexperiencedealingwithoff-gridelectricitywhenIwasgrowingupinNantucket—soIflipthe
switchtochangethepowersourceandstartitup.LightscomeonintheroomandInoticethere’sa
motiondetectorforthat.

Nice.
Butpowerisreallytheleastofourproblems.Onehalf-eatenlobsterisn’tenough,notevenifthe

pilotmanagestocomebacklatetonight.Andthat’sifthestormpasses.

SoIgobackinthehousetogetmyshirtandmyshoes.
“Thepower ’son,”TorisaysasIpickupmyshirt,slipmyfeetintomyshoes,andheadback

towardsthedoor.“Whereareyougoingnow?”

“Fishing,Victoria.Wehavetoeatsomething.”
“You’refishingwithashirt?”
“Justsitthefuckdownandletmehandleshitforonce.”
Islamthedoorbehindme,butit’sasanticlimacticasitsounds,becausethewindislouderthanany

noisethatdoormakes.

“West!”Victoriascreams,comingoutbehindme.“Whereareyougoing?”
Goddammit.Iforgotshehatestobealone.“Victoria,”Iyell.“Justplease,stayinside.I’llbebackin

alittlebit.”

“No,”shesays,defiant.“I’mcomingtoo.I’mnotstayingtherealone.”
Iknowthisisalosingbattlewithher.Aloneissomethingshedoesn’tdo.SoIignoreher.Lether

followme.WhatdoIcareifshewantstogetsoakedandcold?

Idon’tgobacktothebeach.It’stoolongawalkinthisrainandwind.Instead,Igoovertothe

rocksnearthehouseandcarefullymakemywaydown,thankfulforthesoftItalianleathershoeson
myfeetthatwilldefinitelyberuinedinaboutfiveseconds.

“West,thisisabadidea.”She’ssoclosetome,I’malmoststartled.
“Wouldyougetthefuckback?Doyouseethesewaves?Doyouseetheserocks?Wouldyouliketo

fallinandbepulverized?”

Shelooksatme.Hard.Likeshewantstotellmewheretostickmyorders.Butthenshelooksatthe

rocksandherexpressionchanges.“Idon’tneedtoeat.Idon’twantyoutogointhere,Weston.Imean
it.Getoutandcomebacktothehouse.Rightnow.”

“No,”Isay.“Stayhereanddonotfollowmein,nomatterwhat.”
Iturnawayandclimbontothefarthestrock.Thisisherfeartalking,notherconcernformy

welfare.She’safraidifIgointhewaterI’llnevercomebackout.

Andthenshe’llbealone.
ThelastthingIhearbeforeIdiveintothewaterisVictoriascreamingmyname.

ChapterSeventeen-Victoria

Hedisappears.Divesrightbetweentworocksaswavescrashoverthem.I’mgettingsprayedwith

theleftovermisteventhoughI’magoodtenfeetaway.

“Weston?”IcalloutasItrytoseebelowthesurfaceofthewater.“West?”It’snouse.Thewateris

agitatedandmurkyeventhoughtwohoursagoitwascalmandclear.

Iwringmyhandsandlookupatthesky.Therainstingsmycheeksandmakesmeblink.The

cloudsaregrayandblackandthepurpleonesarecloserthanever.

Thatmassofswirlingairhastobesomethingbad.Somethingvery,verybad.Likeatropicalstorm

orahurricane.

Oh,God.Whatifit’sahurricane?
Ilookaroundtheislandandrealizehowvulnerableweare.Howmanyfeetabovesealeveldoes

thelittlehousesit?Twenty?Thirty?

Wecouldbesweptaway.Thiswholeislandcouldbesweptaway.Alreadythesandbarweswamout

toisgone.Thetreeisgonetoo.JesusChrist.Thelittletreegotsweptaway!We’retotallyfucked!

Keepcalm,Victoria.
IlookbackatthespotwhereWestdisappeared.Hecould’vebeenbashedupagainsttherockswhen

hedove.Hemightbedowntheredrowningrightnow.I’mgoingtogetstuckhereallalone.Noone
willevercomebackforme.WestwilldieandIwilldieand—

Hepopsupoutofthewater,gaspingforair.ButjustasI’mabouttoletthereliefwashoverme,he

divesbackdown.

“Weston!”Iyell.“Youasshole!”I’msomadathim.Sofuckingmadathim.He’salwaysbeenthis

way.Completelyoblivioustohowhisactionsaffectotherpeople.DoeshecareI’mupherereadyto
freakoutbecausehefeelstheneedtoplayprovider?No.Hedoesn’t.Hehasnevercaredabout
anythingbuthisgrandplan.Hehasnevercaredaboutanyonebuthisfamily.

Andthosestupidfuckingfriendsofhis.Thosestupidmenwhodraggedhimintoallthat

controversytenyearsago.

TheMisters.
Ihatedthemformakinghimintosomethinghewasn’t.WestonConradwasgoodbeforethosemen

inthathousemadehimintothismantoday.Hewasgood.

Iwanttocryrightnow.HowthehelldidthisjobIdidn’tevenwantturnintoalife-or-death

situation?

WestpopsupagainandIholdmybreathtowaitandseeifhe’llgobackunderagain.Buthe

doesn’t.

“Igotthem,”hesays,laughinglikeaboywhohasneverhadacareintheworld.Whatmustitbe

liketobehim?Soconfident,andpowerful,and…happy.

“Igotthem.”Helaughsagain.Thistimeheholdsuphiswhitedressshirt.He’smadeitintosome

kindofcatchbagandinsideare…things.Iguesslobstersorwhateveritwashewentdowntherefor.

Thewavescrashoverhimandslamhimintoarock.Igasp,butheignoresit,eventhoughhishead

isbleeding.

HethrowsthemakeshiftsacktowardsmeandIcatchitinstinctively,butalmostdropitwhenthe

thingsinsidewriggleandtwist.

“Ifyoudropthat,Victoria,”Westsays,pullinghimselfupoutoftheragingsea,“Iwillbepissed.”

Hehopsfromonerocktoanotheruntilwe’reonthesameone.Ilookdownathisfeet.He’slosthis
shoesandthere’sbloodpouringoutofawoundonhisankle.“Comeon,”hesays,grabbingthesack
fromme.“Let’sgetinsideanddryoff.”

Wearesoaked.Andthefactthatwehavenoclothestowearaswegetdrydoesn’tescapeeitherof

us.

Westisunfazed.Hestripsoutofhisboxerbriefsandwalksaroundnakedlikehe’ssomekindof

JungleBoy.Heevenstartscookingthelobsters.Hegottwoofthemthistime.

“Tomorrow,”hesaysasIstandinthemiddleoftheroom,huggingmyselfandshiveringlike

crazy,“I’llgetussomethingdifferent.”

“W-w-we’regoingtobeheretomorrow?”Iaskthroughmychatteringteeth.
“Wouldyoutakethosefuckingclothesoff,Victoria?You’resoaked.Youcan’twarmupwearing

wetclothes.”

“Youd-d-didn’tanswermyquestion.”
“Well,”Westsays,lookingoutthewindowashedealswiththesimplicitiesofcookinglobster,“it’s

notlookinggood,Tori.Wehavetoassumenooneiscominguntilthisstormpasses.Itcouldbeaday
ortwo.”

“Adayortwo?”Itakeadeepbreath.“Whichdoyouthink?”
“There’snowaytotell.Takethosefuckingclothesoff.Therehavetobetowelssomewhere.

Peoplewhoputupbeachhouseswithoff-gridelectricitywilldefinitelyhavetowels.”

Ilookaround,stillshivering.Buthe’sright.Therehastobemoretothisplace.Therearetwo

doorswehavenotcheckedyet,soIwalkovertotheoneclosesttome.

I’mhopingforabedroomwithanicesoftbedwhenIopenit,butnosuchluck.It’saclosetandit

doeshavetowels.

“Cool,”Westsays,reachingpastme.Buthedoesn’tpickupatowelfromoneoftheshelves.He

picksupsnorkelgearfromthefloor.“I’llusethisstuffnexttime.ThenI’llbeabletoseebetter.The
fuckingvisibilityisshitrightnow.”

“Here’safirst-aidkit,”Isay,pickingupthelittlewhiteboxwitharedcrossonit.“Foryourankle.

Andyourhead.”

“I’mfine,”hesays,walkingovertotheotherdoor.Hegrabsthehandleandpulls,but…it’slocked.

“Whatthefuck?Theyleaveeverythingunlocked,includingthehouse,buttheylockthisdoor?”

I’vestrippedoutofmywetclothes,includingmybra,andIwrapthetowelaroundmebeforeWest

cancatchaglimpse.Itakeoneforhimtoo.Ican’thaveNakedManwalkingaroundallnight.

He’snotevenpayingattentiontome,soIhadnothingtoworryaboutwhenIstripped.He’sjust

staringatthelockeddoor.

“Whatdoyouthinkisinthere?”Iask,walkingovertohimandholdingoutthetowel.
“Hmm,”hesays,takingthetowelwithoutlookingatme.Hewrapsitaroundhiswaistandsays,

“Somethinggood,obviously.”Hescanstheroom,findssomethinghelikes,andwalksaway.

Hegrabsafireextinguisheroffthewallandcomesbacktothedoor.
“Whatareyougoingtodowiththat?”
Hebangsthetankonthedoorknob,bendingitandbreakingthelock.
“Oh,”Isay.
Hemesseswiththehandleforafewsecondsandthenpullsthedooropen.“Ho-leeshit.”
“What?”Iask,leaningpasthimtosee.“What’sinthere?”
Westturnsaroundandlooksatme.“Guns.”

ChapterEighteen-Weston

Irealizeshe’sbeenwearingskimpyclothesallday,butgoddamn.Ican’ttakemyeyesoffToriin

thistowel.Shelooksthewayshedidwhenwetookthattrip.Thathoneymoonpracticetrip.That’s
whatIcalledit.ImadereservationsforthatresortonGreatExumaIslandandwespentaweekjust
actinglikeweweretheonlytwopeopleintheworld.Likehoneymooners.

IturnedherintoNakedWomanthatweek.Twoofthosedayswerentedasailboatandjusttookour

clothesoffandactedprimalaswecruisedaroundallthedifferentcays.

Itwasprobablythebesttwodaysinmylife.
Thereisanicecollectionofguns.FourAK-47’s,twoAR-15’s—Ileanintogetabetterlookatthe

pistolsandseea.45,a9mm,andalittle.380.

“Whydoyouthinkthisishere?”ToriasksasInoticeastashoftacticalknives.Ipickupone,

unsheatheitfromthenyloncase,andfindaserratedblade.

“Hunting.Probably.”
“Whatdoyouhuntonadesertedisland?”Toriasks,annoyedwithmyanswer.
Iwanttosay,People.ButIdon’twanttofreakherout.SoinsteadIsay,“Sharks.”
“Sharks?”sheasks,asIputtheknifebackandpickupanotherone,whichdoesnothaveaserrated

edgetoit.“Nobodyhuntssharkswithguns,West.”

Ishrug.“I’msurethere’slotsofpeoplewhohuntsharkswithguns.”
“OK,whatever.Isthisweird?”sheasks.“Thatwehaveendeduponanislandwithaclosetfullof

guns?”

Weirddoesn’tevenbegintocoverit.“Nope,”Isay,takingthetwoknivesandclosingthecloset

doorbackup.“Ithinkwhoeverownsthisplaceis…”IsearchforthelieIneed.“Somekindof
survivalist.Thisisprobablylike,acache,youknow?Aplacesomeparanoidfreakmightbringhis
familyiftheshiteverhitthefan.Probablysomenerdyaccountantbydayandzombieapocalypse
prepperbynight.”

“Soit’snotweirdthatwe’rehere?”Toriisn’tbuyingit.
“Itwasamistake,”Isay,walkingbacktothekitchentogetbacktothefood.“Thatpilotprobably

droppedusoffatthewrongcay.Infact,”Isay,lookingoutthewindowandpointingtothemany
scatteredislands,“IbetWallaceArlingtonisprobablysomewherewithinafive-mileradius.Ibethe’s
onanotherislandandwe’resoclosetohim,we’dbeabletosmellhismoneyiftherewasn’tsomuch
wind.”

Victoriafollowsmeintothekitchenandplantsahandonherhip.
She’snotbuyingit,Weston.Saysomething.Quick.“We’regonnalaughaboutthiswhenwegetback

toMiami,don’tyouthink?We’llprobablystillbelaughingaboutthisintenyears.”

“Idon’tthinkit’sfunny.Infact,it’sallveryunusual.Wegetdroppedoffatthewrongcayonthe

samedayahugestormissupposedtoblowin?Ourpilothadtoknowthestormwascoming,right?
That’sthingspilotslookintowhenthey’reflyingaroundinatiny,unsafeplaceinthemiddleof
hurricaneseason.”

“It’sreally…theend,”Isay.“Ofhurricaneseason.”
Victoriaignoresthat.“Andthenwegetheretofindthislittlehousewithsomekindofpowergrid

andaclosetfilledwithweapons.Andyouexpectmetobelievethatthisisjustoverzealous

preparationbyapencil-pushingfamilyman?”Shehasoneofthose,OK,buddylooksonherface.
“Really?”

Ismilesheepishly.“Yes?”
“Andit’snottheendofhurricaneseason,we’redeadsmackinthemiddleofit—abouttogointo

themostactivepart,actually.Imightnotbesomekindofweatherexpert,butwehavebeachesin
Brooklyn,West.”

“Don’toverreact,Victoria.We’reonlygonnabehereaday.”
IknowwhatI’mdoing.AndIknowwhateffecttheword‘overreact’doestoher.Butit’sallI’ve

gotleft.

“I’mnottakingyourbait,”shesays.“AndIknowyouwellenoughtoseeyourmindworking.

Whataren’tyoutellingme?”

“Whatdoyouwantmetosay?Huh?Idon’tknowwhoownsthisisland.Idon’tknowwhythere’sa

closetfilledwithguns.Idon’tknowwhythishouseisherewitharain-catchingcisternandsolar
panelsontheroof.Butit’sanislandinthemiddleofoneofthemostbeautifulplacesonEarth.The
Exumasarenothingbutaplaygroundfortherich,Tori.Richpeoplegetboredanddoweirdshitlike
this.ButIdoknowthatyouoftenoverreact.AndIdoknowthatI’mnottheleastbitinterestedin
dealingwithoneofthoseoverreactionswhilewe’restuckhere.Soyoucanwonderaboutallthisall
youwant.I’mgoingtomakedinner.”

ShewalksawaywithahuffandItakemyattentionbacktothelobsters.“I’mfuckinghungry.Ionly

gottwo,whichmeansweonlyhavefoodforonenight.Andifthestormgetsbiggerbeforeit’sover,
thentomorrowI’mgoingtohavetogofishingagain.”

Victoriasaysnothing.Justpicksupallourwetclothesandstartshangingthemoverthechairs

pusheduptothebreakfastbar.“Atleastyourpantsaredry.”

“Andyouhaveyourscrapofaskirt.”
“Alotofgoodthatdoesme.UnlessIwanttogotopless.”
Ishootheragrinandawink.
Shedoesn’tgrinback.
“Tori,”Isay,fillingthepotupwithwateragain.
“What?”shesays,lookingoutthewindowatthepurpleclouds.
“Don’tworry.We’refine.”
Shenods,butdoesn’tlookatme.AndIknowherwellenoughtounderstandwhatthatmeans.She

doesn’tbelieveme.

I’dgivehermorereassuranceifIreallythoughtwewerefine.
ButIdon’t.
We’refucked.

ChapterNineteen-Victoria

Thepowergoesoutagainjustaswe’refinishingourdinner.Lobsterisnotthesamewithoutbutter.

Wedon’tevenhavesaltandpepper.Soit’snourishment,butnothingelse.

“Shit,”Westsays.
Idon’tevenbothercommenting.Somethingiswrongandheknowssomethingiswrong.He’s

lying.He’skeepingthingsfromme.He’seithernotinterestedinhavingmefreakoutaboutit,orhe’s
actuallyworriedaboutthesituationwefindourselvesin.

I’mnotsurewhichofthoseoptionsisbetter.
Ifhe’stryingtopreventafreakout,well,thenI’mpissedoffthathethinksI’msoexcitablethathe

needstomanageme.Andifhe’sworried…

That’sevenworse.Westonisn’taworrier.He’sago-with-the-flowkindofperson.It’soneofthe

reasonsweclashsomuch.

I’mnotgoodatflowing.
“I’mnotgoingouttotrytofixthepower,”Westsays.
Isaynothing.
“It’slate.Weshouldjusttrytosleep.I’llgettoittomorrowwhenit’slight.”
Idon’tknowhowwe’resupposedtosleepwiththewind.Itsoundsliketheroofmightblowoffany

moment.Andthere’snowheretosleep,anyway.Exceptthecouch.

“I’lltakethefloor,”Westsays,grabbingourplatesandmakinghiswaytothesinkinthedarkness.
There’salittlebitoflight.I’mnotevensurewhereit’scomingfrom,sinceoutsidethere’sno

moonandnostars.Butit’snotpitchblack.

“Victoria?”Westsays,makinghiswaybacktowhereI’msitting.Heputshishandonmybare

shoulder—I’mstillwearingnothingbutthistowel—andgivesitasqueeze.“Comeon,let’ssleep.”

Hetakesmyhandandleadsmeovertothecouch,thenmakesmesit.Hesitsnexttome.“You’re

tooquiet,”hesays.

“I’mthinking.”
“Aboutwhat?”
“Allthewaysthissituationcangobad.”
“We’refine.”
“You’relying.Somethingisgoingonhereandwe’renotfine.Weneedtogetoffthisisland.”
“We’llworryaboutittomorrow.There’snothingwecandonow.Let’sjustsleep.”
“I’mcold.Wehavenoblankets.”
“Wehavetowels.”Hegetsupandfindshiswayacrosstheroomtotheclosetwiththetowels.Afew

minuteslaterhecomesbackandstartsdrapingthemoverme.OnceI’mcovered,helaysoneonthe
floor.

“Stopit,”Isay.“You’renotsleepingonthatfilthyfloor.Justsitnextme.Keepmewarm.”
Icanalmostfeelhissmile,eventhoughhesaysnothing.Whenhesitshisbodyiswarm,butnot

warmenough.Icurlintohim,seekingmore.

Heputshisarmaroundmeandsighs.“Wearegonnabefine,Tori.Ipromise.YouknowI’dnever

letanythinghappentoyou.”

“Iknow.”AndIdo.It’soneofthethingsIbothlove,andhate,abouthim.Hisprotectiveness

bordersonpossessiveness.

“So…”hesays.“Whathaveyoubeenuptothepastfewyears?Yourcompanywasgoingsowell

thelasttimewespoke.I’msurprisedyou’reinsuchbadshape.”

“Igotdistracted.Myfather ’s…”ButIstop.Idon’twanttotalkaboutit.Ican’ttalkaboutit.
“I’msorryabouthim.YouknowIalwayslovedhim.”
Inod.“Iknow.”
“Doyouhaveaboyfriend?”
NormallyI’dlieaboutthis.IfWestandIhadmetupinsomerandomcoffeeshopinthecityandhe

askedmethis,I’dsay,Toomanytocount.Orsomethingelseequallyridiculous.Justtopisshimoff.
ButI’mtoodistractedtolie,soIjustsay,“No.”

Wehaveafewminutesofawkwardsilenceafterthat.“Doyouhaveagirlfriend?”Iask,whenthe

awkwardnessstartstoborderonuncomfortable.

“Nope.Iwouldn’thavetouchedyouearlierifIdid.”
Irollmyeyesinthedark.WestonConradandallhishighandmightymorals.
“Itfeltgoodthough,”Westsays,leaningintomyear.“Wannadoitagain?”
Hisquestionhasanimmediateeffectonme.Igetawarmfeelingbetweenmylegs.Atingleof

possibilities.Andeverypartofskinthatistouchinghimcomesalive.

“Tori?”hewhispers,repositioninghimselfsohecanleanintomemore.“Tori?”hesaysagain,

placingonehandonmycheekandturningmyfacetowardshis.“Answerme.”

“Idon’tknow.”
“Wantmetotalkyouintoit?”
Ihuffoutasmalllaugh.That’swhathealwaysaskedwhenheknewIwasn’tinthemood.
“Huh?”heasksagain,hishandtwistingthelittlecornerofthetowelthat’sholdingitclosedagainst

mybreasts.Itfallsawayandhishandisthere,squeezingandkneading.

Iknowhowthisgameisplayed.Idon’thavetosayanythingtomakehimkeepgoing.Hewill

persistinhisquesttogethimselfinsidemeunlessIsayno.

ButIdon’tfeellikesayingnorightnow.SoIsay,“Yes.”
Thisonewordcomingfrommyownmouthhasthesameeffectashisfirstquestion.Heatanda

sparkofdesire.

“I’llmakeyoucomefirstthistime,”hesays,kissingmyneck.
Itakeadeepbreathandreachforhiscock.Ipushthetowelhe’sstillwearingup,andgrabhimin

myfist.He’srockhardalready.Ihavenevermadeaplayforhisdickandfoundhimanythingelsebut
rockhardforme.

“Iknowwhatyouneed,Victoria.YouknowIhavethosesecrets.”
“Shutup,”Iwhisper.Idon’twanttohearanythingaboutsecretsrightnow.Ijustwantthewhole

worldtogoaway.Ijustwantthedarknessandtheemptinesstobecomethesame.ImoanasWestbites
myearlobe.Ijustwanthimtomakemeforgeteverythingforafewminutes.

Ijustwanttobefreeofallthisworryandstress.
“Ialreadysaidyes,”Isay,myvoicehoarsewithdesire.“Sojuststoptalkingandmakemefeel

good.”

“ThewayIusedto?”heasks.
IcouldgetlostforeverinthememoriesofhowWestonConradusedtomakemefeel.It’slikea

slowfallintomadnesswhenIletthosethoughtsinvadereality.SoIdon’tgotherenow.Ishakemy
headandkeepsilent.Andhe’smovedon,anyway.Hismouthisonmybreast,hishandsbetweenmy
legs.Hedoesn’twantananswer,hejustwantedtomakemethinkabouthowgooditwas.

Anditwasgood.Great,mostofthetime.Butthemomentswhenitwasn’twereunbearable.The

liesbetweenusarestillthere.WearestillkeepingsecretsandIcan’tthinkofasinglereasonthatI

wouldgivemineupnow.Theyalmostdon’tmatteranymore.It’spracticallyoverforme.

Ican’timaginethatWestonConrad,aftergettingawaywithkeepinghis,afterallhewentthrough,

wouldeverhandoverthethingshe’sgotlockedinsidehimeither.

Thosesecretshaveservedhimwell.
He’swinningthisgame.
Heisthewinner.

ChapterTwenty-Weston

VictoriaAriasdoesnotplaygamesduringsex.Shedoesnotwantmetoslapherassandcallher

bad.Shewillneverroleplay,orletmetieherup,orcrawlacrosstheflooronherhandsandkneesfor
theprivilegeofsuckingmycock.Shewon’twatchpornwithme,havesexoutsideinthemud,orlet
mestickmydickinhermouthafterIfuckherintheass.

Sheisnotlookingforsomedarksideofherself.Shehasnoinnersubmissivelockedupinher

head.Shedoesn’twanttobejoltedintothepresentwithaslaptohertits,orherpussy,orherface.

No.
WhenVictoriaAriashassex,it’sbecauseshewantstobeloved.
That’sit.Thatisallshe’safter.
Love.
It’snotasboringasitsounds.
Atleast,tome,it’snot.
BecausethiswasmyfirstcluethatToriwasmyfuturewife.She’s…normal.Shelikesnormal.She

wantsnormal.Soitreallypissedmeoffthatshecouldn’tseeourgrandfuturetogetherbackwhenwe
startedtalkingaboutit.

“West,”shemoansnow.“Don’tstop.”
IkissherstomachasImakemywaydownherbody,pushingallthatotherstuffoutofthewayfor

now.It’sonlyfairthatIgivehermyfullattentionafterIliedaboutwhatthosegunsprobablymean.
There’sgoingtobeenoughtimetomorrowtoworryaboutalltheproblemswehave.

Sotonight,we’rejustgoingtoforget.
WhenIgettoherbellybuttonIreachunderherkneesandpushherlegsupandopen.Mytongueis

thereandsheiswet.ShewasalwaysreadyformewhenIcametoherandshe’sstillreadynow.

Isuckherclitforamoment.Letherenjoythesensations.ShelikestogoslowandIdon’thave

anythingagainstslow.TheonlytimeIgettoslowdowniswhenI’mmakinglovetoVictoria.ButI
livelifehardandfast.Sonaturally,that’smydefaultsettinginthebedroomaswell.

Oddly,that’ssomethingIdidn’tmindgivingupforhermostofthetime.
Tori’shandsareinmyhair,twistingitandfistingitasshestartstobreathehard.Herarmsinthis

positionsqueezeherbreaststogetherandIlookupfrommyplacebetweenherlegstocatchtheview
beforeImissit.Theyarejustanoutlineinthedark,andthatshouldbeatease.Butit’snot.Theoutline
isallIneedbecauseholyGod,sheissobeautiful.

“Yourpussytastesasbeautifulasyoulook,MissArias.”
Ican’tseehersmileinthedarkness,butIcanfeelit.Andthelittlebreathofairthatescapesherlips

letsmeknowshe’sgotalaughinsideher.

Herhandsfistmyhairalittletighter.Herbackarchesjusttheslightestbitmore.Herbreathing

kicksupalevel.SexwithToriisn’tboringbecause,whileshedoesliketobeworshipped,shealso
likestohearmydirtymouthasIdoit.Itturnsheronsobad,shegetsanimalisticandwild.Justlike
sheisinreallife.

EverythingaboutToriandmeisreal.
Exceptallthethingsthataren’t.
Pushitdown,Corporate.Timeforthatlater.

“Lickingyoubetweenyourlegs,MissArias…well,there’senoughsweetnessinyourpussyto

givemeatoothache.”

Shegigglesthistime.Butherthighsalsocometogetherandsqueezeagainstmyshoulders.
Ipushmytongueinsideher,suckingonherdesire,andthenwithdrawandcrawlmywayupher

body.Herlipsarealreadythere,meetingminesoshecankissme.

ShelikestotastemymouthafterIlickher.
Wekissforafewmoments,oneofherhandslettinggoofmyhairsoshecanreachdownbetween

mylegsandwrapherpalmaroundmythickcock.Ourtonguesareseeking,andpushing,andtwisting
asshepumpsme—slowlyatfirst,thenwitharegularrhythm.

“Whatcomesnext?”Iask.Shemightnotlikethekink,butshehasalwayslovedthetalking.Sex

withTorihasalwaysbeenabouttheforeplay.We’vehadwholeconversationsduringsex.We’vehad
fightsduringsex.We’vemadeplansduringsex,andplottedvacations,andtoldeachotherjustexactly
whatwouldhappenonsaidgetaways.We’veevenhadphilosophicaldiscussionsduringsex.

AndithasalwaysturnedmeonthatIcanmakehercomewhilediscussingpolitics,oranart

exhibitionwesawthenightbefore,orourgrocerylist.

“Next…”Torisays,tracingafingernaildownthecurveofmybicep.“Youprobablywantmeto

suckyourcock.”

Ismileandletoutasmalllaugh.“Iwouldnotturnitdown,”Isay,pushingafingerbetweenher

legssoIcancontinuetoplay.

“Ibettheonlyreasonyou’resorrythere’snolightsisbecauseyouwon’tbeabletoseemylipsas

theywraparoundyourtip.Youwon’tbeabletoseemytongueasIlickyoulikecandy.”

“We’regoingtodothisagaintomorrowmorning,soI’mnottheleastbitworriedaboutit.”
“You’reacockybastard,”Torysays.“ThinkingI’lljustbehereforyouwheneveryouwantme.”
“Nah,”IsayintohermouthasIkissheragain.“Idon’tthinkthat.Ithinkeverytimeisthelasttime,

Tori.SoI’mgoingtomakethemostofrightnowandhopeforthebesttomorrow.”

She’ssilent.Butsheneverstopskissingme.Herpalmneverstopssqueezingmycock.Herhand

neverstopsfistingmyhair.

Iwanttofuckhersobadrightnow.ButIalreadymessedupthelasttimebynotlettinghercome

first.AndIwon’tdothatagain.Shemightgetthewrongideaaboutmyintentionstonight.

SoIbreakourkissandtakemylipstoherbreasts.Igatheronetogether,squeezing.Theyareso

big,myhandbarelyfitsaroundthem.AndeventhoughIcan’tseehernipples,Iknowtheyarelarge,
andround,andjustashadeortwodarkerthanherskin.Ibite,herbackarches,herfistleavesmyhair
andherhandcomestorestonthesideofmystubbledface.Herotherpalmsqueezesmydick.

“Imissedyou,”shesaysinalowsombervoice.
Ipausefromlickinghernippleandplacemylipsonhers.Ikissherwordsaway.Ikissherfear

away.Ikissitallawayandsay,“I’mstillhere.Iwillalwaysbehere.”

Herlegsopenforme,justalittle.Butit’sasignalIknowwell.SoIeaseforwarduntilmycockis

pushingagainstherentrance.ShedrawsinadeepbreathasIenter.Slowlystretchinghertomake
roomforme.Slowlypenetratinghertoconnectustogether.

Bothfistsareinmyhairnow,andshe’stuggingmedown.Myfacetoherface.Mylipstoherlips.

Wekissaswestart.Thisishowshelikesit.Slow,andsoft,andfilledwithsilentwordsofworship
andpromises.

“IthinkI’llkeepyouforever,MissArias,”Isay,whenshetakesabreath.“IthinkIownyou.”
“Don’tbeacaveman,Mr.Conrad.YouknowI’mnobody’sproperty.”
“You’rewrong,”Isay,startingtopumpherharder.“You’vealwaysbeenmineandyouknowit.

YoujusthatethefactthatI’mrightandyou’rewrong.Youjusthatethefactthatyouloveme,even
thoughI’mpushy,andcontrolling,andwantyoutowearanapron—”

Sheslapsmyface,butshemoansasshedoesit.“Stoptalking,”shesays.
Butwhatshereallymeansis…keepgoing.
“I’mgonnacomeinsideyoutonight.I’mgoingtogetyoupregnant,andmarryyou,andthenmake

youwalkaroundthehousenaked.”

“Exceptforthatapron,right?”shebreathesintomymouth.
“Exceptforthatapron.Andyourbellywillgetbig,andyourtitswillgetbigger,andyourpussy

willbeswollenandsensitiveasIbendyouoverthediningroomtableandfuckyoufrombehindas
youarrangetheplacesettingsformydinner.”

“You’reapigandthatisnever—”
ButI’mfuckingherhardernow.Hertitsarebouncingagainstherchinandshecan’tgoon.
“I’mgoingtofuckyouduringdinner.AndthenI’mgoingtofuckyouasyoudothedishes.Bend

youoverthecounter.LetyoulookoutthewindowattheneighborsasItakeyourass.Andletyou
screamtotheworldasImakeyoucome.Domesticlifewithme,MissArias,won’tbewhatyou
think.”

Igrabherunderherass,hoistherup,andwalkherovertothewall.Ipushherbackagainstitas

shewrapsherarmsaroundmyneckandherlegsaroundmyhips.

EverytimeI’vedonethis,mydickhasneverslippedoutofherpussy.It’slikeherpersonalmission

istokeepusconnected.Andshehasneverletmedown.

“You’regonnacomenow,Victoria,”Isay,pushingmydickdeepinsideherasIwhisperinherear.

“I’mgonnafuckyouagainstthiswall…”Myfingerslipsintothetightpuckerofherassandshe
gasps.“AndI’mgoingtocomewithyou.Insideyou.Getyoupregnant,makeyoumine,keepyou
forever.Youbelongwithme.Sayit.”

I’mpumpingmycockintoherhardnow.It’stheonlywaytofinishoffacavemanfuck.Pressing

heragainstawall.Smotheringherwithmypowerandmybody.Tellingherallthethingsshewantsto
hearandallthethingsshedoesn’t,atthesametime.

Shewillneveradmitit,butshelikesmyversionofherfutureandthat’swhyshepushedmeaway.

Shewantsit.Shejustwon’tadmitit.

ChapterTwenty-One-Victoria

“Shutup,shutup,shutup,”Isay,overandoveragainasWestcontinuestofuckme.Whydoeshe

havetosaythesethings?

“I’mgonnaputaringonthatfinger,Tori.I’mgonnagiveyoutheweddingofalifetime.I’m

gonnafuckyoulikeI’veneverfuckedyoubeforethatnight.AndthenI’mgoingtotakeyoutoan
island,justlikethisone,andripyourclothesoff.Makeyouwalkaroundnakedwithmefordays,and
weeks,andmaybeforever.Iwilleatyourpussyeverywherewegoonthatisland.Ontherocks,inthe
waves,lyinginthehotsun.IwilltasteyouandthenI’llkissyou,justthewayyoulike.Letyoutasteit
too.”

“I’mnotmarryingyou,”Isay,almostbreathless.Hisfingerinmyassisdrivingmewild.Ijust

wanthimtoputmedown,bendmeover,andfuckmefrombehind.Iwanttofeeltheweightofhimas
hecollapsesontomybackwhenwearespent.God,whycan’thejustdothatinsteadofallthisdamn
talking?“I’mnevergettingmarried,I’vetoldyouthatahundred—”

ButIcan’tcontinue.
Becausehe’sreadingmymind.He’scarryingmebacktothecouch.HesetsmedownandI

whimperwhenhiscockslipsoutfrominsideme.Hebendsmeoverthebackofit.Nothardand
demanding.Justmatter-of-factly.Likemywishishiscommand.

MybodyisweakandIbendwhenhetellsmetobend.Iopenmylegswhenhetellsmetoopen

them.

AndIwait.ThesecondsseemlikehoursasIwaitforhisdickorhisfingers,orhis…oh,myGod,

histongue.

Helicksme.Hisfingersareinsideme.Hishandsspreadmyasscheeksopenandhistongueprobes

myass,slipsdowntomypussy,and…holyshit.

“Youwillmarryme,”Westsaysashethrustshiscockinsidemeagain.I’msowet,hejustslips

rightin.

ButhisfingerisstillplayingwithmyassandthatiswhatIlove.Heknowsit.Iloveit,Iwanthimin

theretoo,Iwanthimeverywhere,insidemeeveryway.Andinthatsamemomenthe’swithdrawnand
relentless.Hiscockispainfulashethrustsforward.MybackarchesandIscreamashisdickgoesin
myass.Hishandisonmyhip,andthenit’snot,it’sbetweenmylegs,strummingmyclit.

Ithrowmyheadbackandseehim.Lookingdownatme.AsIcome.
Thereisthatmomentwhenwearelookingateachother.Andthenthereisthatmomentwhenwe

havetocloseoureyesandseenothing.

Hepullsoutandspillshissemenalldownmyback.
Andthenhecompletesmyfantasy.Hebendsforwardandcoversmewithhisweight.Weare

breathinghard,almostgaspingforair.Andhesays,“I’mstillgonnacomeinsideyou,MissArias.
I’mgonnagetwhatIwantfromyou.Butrightnow,Ithinkweneedtosleep.”

WestgetsoffmeandImisshimimmediately.Buthe’sonlygoneasecond.He’sgotatowelwhen

hestandsmeup.Hecleansoffhischest,thenmyback,andwesinkintothecouchcushionstogether.

“Iloveyou,Victoria.Ihavealwayslovedyou.”
“Iknow,”Iwhisperback.
“Youshouldrethinkyourlife.YoushouldtrytoimaginethelifeI’mofferingyou.Notasatrap,

likeyoualwayssaid.Butasa…asanctuary.Fromallthebad,andallthestress,andalltheworries
thatcomewithbeingalone.Youdon’thavetobealone.Youdon’thavetobeincharge.Youdon’t
havetobeincontrol.It’sreallynotallit’scrackeduptobe.”

Icanseehispoint.Ihatetoadmitit,butalltheseyearslater,afterbeingincharge,andbeingin

control,andbeingsingle…Icanseeit.

I’mlonely,andscared,andstressedout.Iamonthebrinkoflosingeverything.Peopleare

countingonmeandI’mabouttoletthemalldown.Iaminabad,darkplace.

ButIamalsowrappeduptightinWestonConrad’sarms.
AndIcan’thelpbutwonderifthisiswhatitwouldbelikeforreal.
IfIwashisgoodlittlewife.

ChapterTwenty-Two-Weston

“Wakeup,Tori.”IgiveheralittlenudgeandgobacktopackingthedrybagIfoundinthecloset

withthesnorkelinggear.

“What?”sheasks,sittingupandrubbinghereyes.Herhairiswild,herfaceisflushedfromthe

humidityandheatthatismakingthisplacefeellikeahothouse,andshe’sstillnakedfromlastnight.

JesusfuckingChrist.Ishouldnothavedoneanyofthatyesterday.It’sgoingtobesohardtowalk

awayfromheragain.ButIcan’thelpmyself.She’ssofamiliar.Soeasytofallinto.So…perfect.It
reallysucksthatwecan’tgetalong.Thatwehavealmostnothingincommonwhenitcomestofuture
plans.Thatwearebothsostubborn.

Sheagreeswithmeduringsexsometimes.Sheslowsdownandgivesitsomethought,atleast.But

Iknowit’sjustthesextalking.She’sinastatewhereshehastogivein.Butthenextmorningshe’s
alwaysbacktoheroldself.

Wejustdon’twantthesamethingsinlife.
“Whatareyoudoing?What’sgoingon?”
She’ssogoddamnedcutewhenshewakesup.Allconfusedandinnocent.It’stheonlytimeofthe

daythatsheletsherguarddown.

“We’regonnaleave,”Isay,grabbingherbraandpantiesandthrowingthemtoher.“Getdressed.I

washedyourpanties,soputthemon.I’vegotyourskirtandblouseinthebagwithmystuffsowe’ll
havedryclothesoncewegetthere.”

“Getwhere?”She’sirritatednow.“Wherethehellarewegoing?Isthestormover?Didthepilot

comeback?”

“No.Butthere’salullinthestormsowe’regoingtotrytoswimovertoanotherisland.Isawit

whenwelanded.There’sabuildingoverthere.Maybetheyhavearadio.”

“Whycan’twejuststayhere?”
Iignoreherandjustcontinuepackingthebag.I’vealreadygotthehandgunsinthebottom.Idon’t

wanthertoknowI’mtakingthem.AndI’vegottwotowels,becauseIhavenoclueifthatother
buildingevenhasnecessities.

“West?What’sgoingon?”
“Wejustcan’tstayhere.Ihaveafeelingthatstormyesterdaywasonlythebeginning.Thepurple

messisstilloffinthedistance.Likeit’shoveringormovingveryslowly.Butit’sevenbiggerthanit
wasyesterday.Ithinkit’sahurricane.”

“Hurricane?Forreal?”
“Yeah,thisplaceisnogood,Tori.Weneedtoleave.It’slow,onlylikethirtyfeetabovesealevel.

Thishousewillprobablyflood.Thatotherislandwasbigger.Higherup.Weneedtomakeforitwhile
thebreakinthestormlasts.”

“Butwhatif—”
“It’snotfar,Tori.Wemadeittothesandbaryesterday,right?Well,Iknowit’saneaptideright

now.Thefullmoonwaslastweek.Soeventhoughthewaterlevelishigherbecauseofthestorm,it’s
lowerthanitshouldbebecauseofthealignmentofthemoonandthesun.Ithinkthatsandbaris
probablysubmergedafewfeetatmost.Weshouldstillbeabletowalkonit.I’mbettingallthose
sandbarsarelikethat.Wewon’thavetoswimfar.Thinkofitlikeacauseway.”

Torisitsup,looksaround,thenstandsandplantsherhandsonherhips.“You’reserious?I’mnot

goinginthatocean.”

“Youare.Youdon’thaveachoice.”
“Ihaveplentyofchoices.Ithinkthatifthere’salullinthestormtheywillbelookingforus.We

shouldwaithereand—”

“Nooneislookingforanyoneuntilthathurricanepasses.Don’tyougetit?We’refucked.”Ididn’t

wanttoscareher,butIhavenochoice.Wedon’thavetimeforafight.Peoplecouldcomeback.And
I’mprettysurethat’stheworstpossiblethingthatcouldhappen.There’sareasonwe’rehere.And
there’sareasonthatclosetwaspackedfullofguns.I’mtryingnottothinktoohardaboutityet,
becauseIdon’twanttofacesomeinevitablefacts.Butnoneofthisisgood.It’sbad.FarworsethanI
firstthoughtbeforewefoundthoseguns.

“Youdon’tknowthat,”shesays,stilldefiant.
“Doyouwanttostayherealone?”Idon’twanttothreatenherwiththat,either.It’salowblowand

shefeelsitimmediately,becausesherecoils.ButIhavenootheroption.Weneedtogetthefuckoff
thisisland.“BecauseI’mleaving.Soifyou’dliketostaybehindallbyyourself,that’syourchoice.”

Torihuffsoutsomeair,silent,butdefiant.Iletherstew.She’scoming.Iknowshe’scoming.She

won’tstayherealone.

“Whatiftheycomelookingforusandwe’regone?Ithinkweshouldleaveanote.”
“We’lldealwiththatlater.Andno,”Istress.“We’renotleavinganote.JustdowhatIsayandthings

willbefine.”

“Whatdoyoumean,later?Andwhynonote?No.No,no,no.Thatmakesnosense.”
“Itdoesmakesense,Tori.Youjustdon’thavealltheinformation.”
“Thentellme,”shegrowls.“Whatareyoukeepingfromme?”
“I’mmakingadecisionandthat’stheendofit.We’releaving.Soputonyourbraandpantiesand

let’sgo.Thelowtidewillbehereinlikeanhour.Wedon’thavemuchtimeifwewanttotake
advantageofthat.”

“Howdoyouknowallthisshitanyway?Sincewhenareyouanexpertontides?”
“Itoldyou,”Isay,startingtolosemypatience.“Iworkedonaboatforsevenyears.Thisis

commonknowledgeforsailors.Thepilotsaiditwaslowtidewhenwelandedyesterday,andthetides
areregular.Theycomeatregularintervalseachday.Can’tyoujustdowhatyou’retoldforonce?I
mean,unlessyou’vegotsomesecrettidaltrainingIdon’tknowabout.ButI’mguessingnot,because
ifyoudid,you’dknowIwasrightandwewouldn’thavetoargueaboutit.”

Istuffthelastofthegearintothebagandsealitup.
“You’retakingoneofthoseknives?”
“Allofthem,”Isay.“Weneedtohunt,right?”
Shehuffsoutmoreairandrollshereyes.“You’resomekindofsurvivalistnow?Please.”
“Yeah,well,”Isayundermybreath.“I’vebeeninsurvivalmodesinceIwasseven.It’snothingnew

forme.Nowlet’sgo.”

I’monlyhalfrightabouteverythingItoldTori,butit’senough.Thetrekfromourislandtothe

newislandtakesfourhours.It’snotmorethantwomilesawayandittakesfourhours.Shebalkedat
theedgeofthebeach.SoIpointedtothestorm,stillstirringinthenorthernsky,andthreatenedher
withahightideifshedidn’tgetherSouthAmericanassinthewater.

Sheswamtothefirstsandbar,whichwasmorethanacouplefeetsubmerged,soIwaswrongabout

that.Butshewasstillabletotouchthebottomforabouttwohundredyards,sothepartIwasright
aboutwastheonlythingthatcounted.

Itkepthergoing,andthat’sallthatmatters.
Butoncewegottotheedgeofthatsandbarandsherealizedthemomentoftruthwasuponher,she

panicked.I’mtalkingfull-onpanicattackwithhyperventilatingandfearfuleyes,andclaimsthatshe
wasgoingtodie.

It’sbeenalongtimesinceI’veseenherthisway.
Ihateit.
I’dratherseeherwithanothermanthanseehersoscared.
Wehadtostandthereontheedgeoftheocean,thewaterswellinghigherandhigheraswewaited

fortheepisodetopass.Ihadtocoachherconstantlywhileweswamtothesecondisland,whichstill
hadlandabovewater,butthelowtidewasoverbythenandtheoceanwasrisingfast.WhenIpointed
backtoourislandshewasshockedthatsomuchofitwashiddenunderthewaves.

“See,”Isaid.“Wewould’vediedoverthere.”
Shegotherfearundercontrolafterthatandswamtothethirdislandwithoutcomment,even

thoughitwasastrugglefromstarttofinish.Iwasactuallyscaredthattime.She’snotastrong
swimmer.Nothinglikeme.Iknowwhattodowithanangrysea.

Iwasn’tsureshecoulddoit.Ireallyhaddoubts.AllIthoughtaboutasweswam,thewavestossing

usandpullingonus,wasthatIwouldneverbeabletolivewithmyselfifsomethinghappenedtoher.
Buttherewasaninflatablefloatationbeltinwiththescubagear,soIputitonher,tetheredustogether,
andpulledhertothelastisland.

Sohereweare.
“Where’sthebuilding?”Victoriaasks.It’srainingagain.Reallystartingtocomedownhard,but

we’resoakedanyway,soithardlymatters.

“It’sinthemiddleoftheisland.”We’resprawledoutonthebeachwaitingforourheavybreathing

toevenout.“I’llgolookfirst.YoustayhereandthenwhenIknowit’ssafeI’llcomebackforyou.”

“Likehell,”Torisays,standingup.“I’mnotstayinghere.Andifyoutrytomakeme,I’llfollow

youintothosetrees.Idonotcarewhatdangerisinthere.I’mnotstayinghereonthisdesertedbeach
alone.Fuckthat.”

Ihavetolaughatherdefiance.EventhoughIwanttogettothebuildingfirstsoIcantrytofigure

thisshitout,Iknowshe’sfirmonthis.SoIjustsay,“Suityourself.Butwhenthenativesattack,don’t
blameme.”

Torigrabsmyarm,squeezingtight.“Doyouthinktherearepeoplehere?Thatwe’re…like…

trespassing?”Hereyessearchmine,lookingforreassurance.

“No.Idon’t.Ithinkwhoeverownsthisplacehasalotmoresensethanwedo.Thishurricanehasto

havebeenonthenews.Peoplewhoownislandskeeptrackofthatshit.Noonewantstobestuckout
hereduringahurricane.”

Sheletsoutalongbreath.“Yes.That’sprobablytrue.”
IholdoutmyhandandTorilooksatitforasecond.“Comeon,”Isay.“Let’sgotogetherthen.”
Shesmiles,rollshereyes.Butshedoestakemyhand.Wewalkthebeachintheworseningstorm

lookingforafootpath.Thetreesandbrusharethick,sothere’snorealchanceofmakinganewpath.
Notwiththemudandtherain,andthegustingwind.

Wefindonealittlewaydownthebeach,halfhiddenintheblowingpalmtrees.Andoncewegetin

underthewindbreakcanopyofleaves,wefollowthenarrowtrailinsilence.Itleadstoalagoonwith
anemptyboathouse,andfromtherewefindthepathtothemainhouse.

Whichisalotnicerthanthepieceofone-roomshitwejustcamefrom.
Andthepowerworks.
“Whydoesthepowerworkhere?”
“Peoplewithmoney,Tori.Theycandowhatevertheywant.”

“Mustbenice,”shesays,irritated.“Butthat’snotananswer.”
“I’msurethere’sanexplanation.”
ButI’mhumoringher.Thepowerisonbecauseamotionsensorporchlightactivateswhenwe

comeuptothefrontdoor.Whichmeanspeoplewereherenottoolongago.Theyhaveasturdier
systemthanthelastisland,that’sall.Itlastedalittlelonger.

Atleastthat’swhatItellmyself.
“There’saradio!”Torisays,hervoiceexcitedaftermanyhoursofsadnessandfear.“Look!”
Andyes,thereisaradiorightthereinthemudroom.Iscantheareaforleftovershoesorcoats.

Something,anythingtotellmeifpeoplearehereornot.

ButIseenosigns.
TorirunsovertoitandisabouttoturnitonwhenIgrabherhandaway.“Whatareyoudoing?”

sheasks.

“Wedon’tneedtocallnow.Theycan’thelpusanditwilljustmakepeopleworry.”
“You’recrazy.Peoplearelookingforus,West.Weneedtoletthemknowwe’reOK.”
“Wewill,”Isay.“Butnotyet.Let’sjustcheckthisplaceoutfirst.”
Shehuffssomeairandsquintshereyesatme.ButIdidn’tsayitasacommand.Itwasasuggestion.

Soshe’snotmad.IthinkIjustsetallherlittlealarmbellsoffthough.

“It’sprettynice,right?”Isay,tryingtogethermindoffmynewanti-radiostance.
Torilooksaroundandtakesafewstepstowardsthegreatroom.
It’slikeanywell-furnishedroomyou’dfindinavacationhome.High-beamedceilings,darkwood

tables,built-incabinetry,anddarkmarble-tiledfloors.There’sevenaflatscreenTV,forfuck’ssake.

Ilookaround,warily.Somethingisvery,verywrongwiththistrip.WhywasVictoriabroughtin

forthiscontract?WasLiambehindthis?Ishegettingevenforsomeoldwoundbetweenhimandmy
father?Wasitthepilot?Whodoesheworkfor?Mysterious?

Thisiswherethepanicstartstotakeholdofme.I’vehadthatthoughtinthebackofmyheadsince

yesterdayandI’vebeenpushingitdownandpushingitdown.

Butthereitis.
Mr.Mysterious.
Ithinkthisisabouthim.Maybeevenworsethanthat.Maybehe’stheonebehindallthisbullshit.He

didrefermetothatpilot.HedidgivemethattipaboutWallace.Thehousebackonthatislandhad
PaxtonVancewrittenalloverit.Theset-up,theseclusion,theguns.

IlookoveratthedrybagonthefloorandwonderifIshouldgetridofthem.Whatifhe’sused

theminsomecrime?Whatiftheyaremurderweapons?Imean,allusMistersplayitcoolabouthim.
Oh,he’ssomysterious.Likewe’rerollingoureyesabouthisquirkyeccentricitiesandnotwondering
howmanypeoplehe’skilledsincecollege.

ButIknowwhatI’mthinkingeverytimeMysteriousshowsup,soIknowNolanhastobethinking

thesamething.He’sasuspiciousbastard.Evenmorethanme.SomethingisoffaboutPaxandweall
knowit.Iwouldnotputitpasthimtosellusout.

Hell,maybehedidrapethatgirlbackincollege?Maybeitwashimallalong.Andthenwhenthe

arrestwarrantcamewhowasthere?MatchandhisstupidfriendFive.IsitacoincidencethatMatch
andMysteriousarethebestoffriendsthesedays?Really?Paxhasalwaysbeenamanwhohates
people,butnowheandOliverareBFFs?

Idon’tbuyit.Thosetwoaredoingbusiness.
AndI’vebeensuspiciousaboutMatchforawhilenow.Whatkindofmanrunsanonlinedatingsite

andneverhasagirlfriend?No.Theyareuptosomethingandthistripprovesit.I’mstuckouthere—
VictoriaAriasisstuckouthere—becausePaxtonVancegavemebogusinformation.

“Whatareyouthinkingsohardabout?”Toriasksfromacrosstheroom.She’sgotaremoteinher

handandtheTVcomestolife.“Holyshit.We’vegotHBOandeverything.Whoseplacedoyouthink
thisis?Somerichmoviestar?SiliconValleytechmogul?Whatifwe’reinPeterThiel’sdoomsday
bunker?”Shelaughslikethisisridiculous.

Idon’tlaugh.Somebodywenttoalotoftroubletosetthisplaceup.ExceptIdon’tthinkit’sthe

PayPalbillionaire’sisland.Ithinkwhoeverownsthisislandprobablyownstheotheronetoo.AndI
thinkI’monafirst-namebasiswithwhoeverthatis.

“Jesus,West.Whatareyoudaydreamingabout?”Toriputstheremotedownonthecoffeetableand

walktowardsme.

Ipaintonthesmileandheadforthedrybagtokeepmyselfbusy.“Nothing,really.Justthinking

abouthowluckywearetohavefoundasafeplacetorideoutthestorm.”

“Shit,doyouthinkthathurricaneisstillcomingthisway?”
“Ihopeso,”Imumbleundermybreath.Becauseifit’snot,someonewillcomelookingforusvery

soon.

“What?”Toriasks.“Whatdidyoujustsay?”
“IsaidIhopenot.Ihopethatfuckingpilothascalledthecoastguardforusandthey’rearranging

somekindofpickup.”

“Yeah,metoo,”Torisays,sighingasshecrossesherarms.“I’mcold.Doesitfeellikethisplaceis

air-conditioned?”

Ilookupatthetallceilingandseemassivefanshangingdownbylongpoles.Andsureenough,

thereareventsontheceiling.

Howmuchmoneydoesittaketorunthisplace?Whowouldleaveallthisgoingiftheyleftthe

island?

“Whatifsomeone’sstillhere?”
ToriandIcometothesameconclusionattheverysamemoment.WelookateachotherandIsee

thefearinhereyesasIstartshakingmyhead.“Nah,”Isay,playingitdown.“Wherewouldtheybe?
Thewindisblowinghardnow.Andit’sbeenrainingmostoftheday.Ifpeoplewerehere,thisroom
iswherethey’dbe.”

Torilooksaroundlikesheneedsamomenttotalkherselfintomylie.Forsuchawildgirl,she

suredoeshaveasweet,vulnerableside.

“Wanttocheckitout?”Iask,reachingtothebottomofthedrybagandgrabbingtheguns.

“Together?”Ipullthemoutoneatatimeandsetthemonthefloorbesideme.Whenallthreeare
thereIlookupatVictoria.

“Iknewyoutookthem.”
“Yeah?And?”
Sheshrugs.“Something’swrong,isn’tit?”
Ishrugthistime.“I’mnotsureyet.”
“Doyouthinkit’saboutWallace?Imean,thatwasallprettystrange,right?”
Ihavenoanswer.“Idon’tknow,Tori.I’mnotsureifit’sWallaceorthepeoplebehindthejobto

getWallace.”

“LikeLiam?”
Soshe’sbeenthinkingaboutthistoo.
“Maybe.”
“Butisn’theagoodfriendofyourfamily?Whywouldhesetsomethinglikethisup,West?”
Iopenmymouthtotellthelie.ThelieI’vebeentellingsinceIwassevenyearsold.ButIcan’t

bringmyselftosaythewords.

“West?”Toriprods.
SoImakeupanewone.“Notgoodfriends,”Isay.“Notexactly.”

ChapterTwenty-Three-Victoria

He’slying.I’vealwaysknownhe’sbeenlyingaboutwhoheisandwherehecamefrom.ButI

figureditwassomesmalllie.Like,hisfatherwasn’tintheimport-exportbusiness.Imean,comeon.
I’mfromBrooklyn.Iknowthatimport-exportiscodeformafia.

ButIdon’tthinkthisiswhathe’slyingabout.It’ssomethingdeeper.Bigger.Badder.
“Then…”Isay,tryingtoreasonitallout.“WhywouldLiamsetusup?”
“Maybehedidn’t.”
“Thenwho?”Iask.
Westpicksupthesmallestgunandstandsup,offeringittome.“Youknowhowtoshoot,right?”
“Sure.”Myfatherwasapoliceman.HetaughtmetoshootwhenIwasfourteen.Aboutaweektoo

late,unfortunately.“ButI’mnottakingthatgun.”

“Tori,look.You’reright.Somethingweirdmightbegoingonhere.Ineedtoknowyoucanfight

back.”

Ishakemyhandsintheairandlaugh.“Iamalethalweapon,Mr.Corporate.Don’tyouworryyour

prettyheadaboutme.”

Heletsoutalongbreathandsmiles.It’sthefirstsmileI’veseenonhimtoday,theonlytimehis

foreheadwasn’tcreasedwithworryandexhaustion.“Iknow,MissArias.Butyoucan’tkarate-chop
someonefromacrosstheroom.”

Ichuckleback.Karatechop.He’ssocute.WhatIamcapableofdoingtoamanisnothingshortof

torture.“Ifeelsafehere,”Isay.“Ican’texplainwhy,Ijustdo.Idon’tthinkwe’llneedguns.Butwe
shouldlooktheplaceoverthoroughly.”

West’ssmiledropsononeside,makingthatlopsidedgrinIlovesomuch.Hedoesn’tdoitoften.

OnlywhenI’mrightandhe’snotmadaboutit.

Tome,thatlooksays,OK.We’reOK.
“We’reOK,”Isay,togivehimthesamecomforthe’sbeengivingmethesepasttwodays.“We’re

fine.We’llwaititouthereandfigureitoutwhenthestormends.Andwehavearadionow.So…
we’refine.”

“Yeah,”hesays,barelyaudible.“Let’slookaround.Maybetheyleftfood.”
Wedolook.Butthereisnofood.There’spotsandpansandarealoven—gaseven—arefrigerator

—empty—andamicrowave.

Allofwhichisuseless.
Thereisamassivesetofstairswhichgodownononesideandupontheother.Wegoupfirst,and

findthreebedrooms.

“Iguesswewon’thavetosleeptogethertonight,”Westsays.
“Iguessnot,”Iagree.Iglanceupathimreallyquicktoseeifhe’sgotanyregretsaboutthat,but

he’smovedontolookatthebathrooms.Iwaitinthehallwayasheflushesallthreetoilets,andthenI
followhimdowntothebasement.

“Well,”Westsays,oncewe’redownthere.“Thisis…interesting.”
There’sasafethatspansanentirewall.Completewithoneofthoseroundwheelthingsthatyouuse

toopenit,andacomputerpadwhereacombinationneedstobeentered.

There’sasilverenvelopetapedtotheginormousdoor.Westripsthenoteoffthedoorlikehe’s

takingitpersonally,thenlooksatmewithragingeyes.

“What?”
“Doyouknowwhowrotethis?”
Ifeelallkindsofdefensive.“WhywouldIknowthat?”
“No,”hesays,takingadeepbreathandcombinghisfingersthroughhistousledhair.“No,Imean,

Mr.fuckingMysteriouswrotethis!Ifuckingknewit!”

“What?Yourfriend?Thisplacebelongstoyourfriend?”Ilookaround,takeitinwithanewsetof

eyes.

“I’mprettysurethatlastonedidtoo.”
“Sothat’swhothatguywasatthetablewithyou?”Ididn’tseehim.I’veneveractuallymetanyof

theMistersinpersonbefore.WestandIwentinawholedifferentdirectionafterthosecharges.I
neversawanyofthemunlessitwasonTV.

“What?”West’seyesareblazing.“WhatguyIwaswithatthetable?”
Shit.Goodgoing,Victoria.
“Youwerelistening,weren’tyou?WhenPaxgavemetheheadsuponwhereWallacewouldbe

yesterday.”

“It’snotasbadasitsounds,”Istart.
ButWestcutsmeoff.“Youweretryingtostealthatcontract,Tori.”
“Youdon’tevenneedthatcontract.You’rerollinginmoney,Weston.Ineedit.Andnotforselfish

reasonslikeyou.Likeyourstupidcarsandyourstupidhouses.”

“WaytogetdefensiveandnastywhenyouknowI’mright,”Westcounters.
“It’salltruethough.You’vealwaysbeengreedy,WestonConrad.I’mtryingtosavepeopleandyou

can’tletmehaveonestupidcontracttokeepthatstuffafloat?”

“Savewho?”Hepracticallysnorts.“Cuttheshit,Tori.Theonlypersonyou’retryingtosaveis

yourself.”

“Well,fuckyou.Youknow?Becauseyou’rewrong.You’retotallywrongaboutme.I’mtryingto

savemyfather ’slegacy.He’sdying,Weston.He’llbeluckytolivesixmoremonthsandallhe’sever
wantedwastokeepthattrustfundafloat.”

Helooksshocked.“Youhaveatrustfund?”
“Notme,youidiot.Thekids.”
“Whatfuckingkids,Victoria?”Nowhelookspissed.
I’dforgottenI’dnevertoldhim.JesusChrist.Inevertoldhim.It’sbeensolongsincewespoke.

Threeyearsatleast.Andthatwasonlyadrunkenone-nightstand.WewenttomyplaceinScarsdale
becauseitwasclosertothebarwemetupinandmyManhattanbuildingwasstillbeingrenovated.
WestwasgonebythetimeIwokeupinthemorning.Probablysorryheletthingsgosofar.Hewas
stillverymadatmeaboutthatseven-million-dollarcontracthethoughtIstoleafewmonthsearlier.
Therewasnocall,notext,notevenanemailsaying,Thanksforthefun.Justhereandthengone.

Ididn’ttakeitpersonally.Iwasalittlebitrelieved.Becausethere’snoroominmylifeforaman

likeWest.Onenightofsexisfine.Likelastnight.That’sOKwithme.Itwasfun,feltgood.Butonce
we’reoffthisislandthere’snowayinhellwe’lleverseeeachotheragain.

“Whatfuckingkids?”Westrepeats.
“Look,it’salongstory—”
“Didyouhaveafuckingbaby?”
“No.”Ilaugh.“Don’tberidiculous.”
“Thenwhatkidsareyoutalkingabout?Youdon’thaveanysiblings.”
“Well,it’safunnything.Really.Anditisalongstory.ButIwasadopted,West.WhenIwas

fourteen.Igrewupinfostercareandmyfather,themanyouknowasmyfather,well,hesavedme

after…”Shit.Ineverhadanyintentionoftalkingaboutthisagain.

Westtakesaseatinanearbychair.“Areyoushittingmerightnow?”
“No,why?”
“You’reserious?”
“Yes.WhywouldIlieaboutthis?”
“Soyouwerenevergoingtotellmeyourbackstory?”Hestandsupagain,beginstopace.
“Areyougettingattitudewithmeaboutmypersonallife?Please.Youpopoffwiththislittlehint

thatyou’resomekindofreformedblue-collarworkeryesterday.‘Iworkedonaboat,Tori.’‘Iknow
howtocatchlobsterswithmybarehands,Tori.’‘Ihavememorizedthefuckingtides,Tori.’Andyou
thinkyou’reallowedtogetmadatmefornottellingyouaboutmypast?Fuckoff.”

HegrabsmebythearmbeforeIcanspinaroundandleave,butinstinctskickinandIdeflecthis

wrist,kickforwardtowardhisballs,and—

I’mdownonthegroundfacefirst.“Nicetry,MissArias,”Westonbreathesintomyear.He’sgot

myhandsbehindmybackand…and…I’mstunned.

“Whatthefuck—”
“I’mathird-degreeblackbelt,Victoria.Soyoucancutyourtough-girlshit,OK?I’mnotinthe

mood.”Heletsgoofmywrist,getsup,thenpullsmetomyfeet.

“Sincewhen?”Ihuff.“Younevertookmartialartswhenweweretogether.”
“Wrong.I’vebeentakingclassessinceIwasseven.IearnedmyblackbeltwhenIwasnineteen.”
“But…youneverfoughtback.WhenIusedmymovesonyou!”
“You’reagirl,Tori.WhythefuckwouldIfightback?”
“You’resuchadick.”
“Why?”hesnarls.“BecauseI’magentleman?Comeoffit.I’mnotgoingtohurtyou.Ionlytook

youdownthistimebecauseI’msickofyourshitandwedon’thavetimeforthis.”

“You’resickofmyshit?Ha.”
Westjuststaresatme.He’ssopissedoffrightnow.Hepointshisfingerinmyface,thesameway

I’vedonetohim,over,andover,andover.“You’rehidingthingsfromme.”

“You’rehidingthingsfromme!SoIguesswe’reeven.”
“You’readopted.Whereareyourparents?”
“You’vemetmyfather.”
“Yourrealparents,”hesnarls.
“Noneofyourgoddamnedbusiness.”
“Itismybusiness.We’reherebecausesomeoneputushere.”
“Yeah,yourstupidfriend,Mr.Mysterious.”
“Maybe,”hesays.
“Whatdoyoumean,maybe?Youjustsaidthisishisplace.Andhowdidyouknowthatbythat

note?Huh?Ishisnameonit?”

“No,”Westsays,pickingthesilverenvelopeupoffthefloorwherehedroppedit.“This,”hesays,

openingitupsoIcanseeaseriesofcut-and-pastelettersthatlooklikeanold-fashionedransomnote,
“ishiscallingcard.”

“He’sakidnapper?”Ilaugh.
“It’snotfunny.Noneofthisisfunny.Youdon’tunderstand.Myfriendshavebeenhavingtrouble

withpeoplefromtheirpastinthepastsixmonths.Onebyone,allusMistersarebeingtargetedagain.
Andthis,”hesays,wavinghisarmswide,“appearstobemyturn.”

“Soyourfriend,thatMysteriousguy,he’stheonefuckingwithyou?”
Westsighsandturnsaway.“Idon’tknow.Idon’tknowwhattothink.Butyou’rehere,yousee.”He

turnsbacktofaceme.“You’rehereandyou’reagirlfrommypast.Thisisexactlyhowit’sbeen

happening.Mr.PerfectgotavisitfromAllen.Rememberthatasshole?Romantic’shalf-sister
reappearedinhislifebeforeshetriedtofuckwithhim.Andnowyou’rehere.”

“YouthinkI’mtheonewho’sfuckingwithyou?You’reanasshole.”Igrabthenotefromhishand

andreadit.There’sabunchofnumbersandonesentence.“‘You’llknowwhattodo.’What’sthat
mean?”

Westgrabsthenoteback.“IguessI’llopenthesafeupandsee.”
Hewalksovertothekeypadandpunchesinthenumbers.There’saloudclickandsomeweird

sounds,likesomethingismovinginsidethedoor.Thehugewheelthingstartsmovingbyitselfanda
fewmomentslateranotherclick,andthesafeopensaboutaninch.

Westlooksatme,thenopensitup.

ChapterTwenty-Four-Weston

It’saroom.Likeawholeotherroom.Likeastudioapartment.Thewallsaresolidrock,likeit’sall

builtintothesideoftheisland.There’salittlekitchenetteinthebackwithasmalldinettetable,adoor
thatleadstoabathroomimmediatelytotheleft,andalivingroomfilledwithacouchandtwochairs.

ToriwalkstowardsthekitchenandItrytofigureoutwhatMysteriousmeantby,You’llknowwhat

todo.Washereferringtothenumbersandthesafe?I’llknowtoopenthesafe?

OK.I’vegottenthatfar.Nowwhat?
“Hey,”shesays.“Here’sanotheroneofthosesilverenvelopes.”
Iwalkovertoherandtakeitfromherhand.Fuckingsilverenvelopes.
“‘Whenthetimecomes,lockyourselfinside.I’llbeintouch.’”
“He’llbeintouch?How?Andwhythehellwouldwelockourselvesinsideafuckingsafe?Would

weevenbeabletogetbackout?Whatthehell,Weston?”

Itakeadeepbreathandletitout.Whatthefuckishappening?NowIknowhowNolanfeltwhen

thatshitstartedtogodownwithhim.ButMysteriouswasinvolvedinthataswell.Hewasrightthere
whenNolangotintrouble.

DoItrusthim?
WhatchoicedoIhave?It’seasytoforgetthere’saragingstormoutsidedownhere.Ican’teven

hearthewindrightnow.Butthetruthis,we’restuck.Therewasnoboat.There’snohiddenhelicopter.
AndIcan’tflyoneofthose,anyway.There’stheradio,but…I’mnotsurecallingforhelpistheright
move.AndifMysteriousleftusthissaferoom—literally,that’swhatthisis—thenthat’sagood
reasontostayput.

“West,”Torishouts.Irealizeshe’sbeentalkingthiswholetimewhileIwasthinking.“Whatthe

hellisgoingon?”

“I’mnotsure,”Isay.“Buthewantsustostayhereforareason,sowebetterdoashesays.Atleast

foronenight.We’renotusingthatradio,understand?”

Shejuststaresatme.
“Understand,Victoria?Idon’tneedyoupullingyourfeministcardoutnow.Somethingbadis

happeningandweneedtoworktogetheronthis.”

“Youaresuchanasshole.Twominutesagoyouwereaccusingmeofbeinginvolved.Nowyou

wantmetotrustyou?”

“Just…forgetthat.You’renotinvolved.Iknowthat.Webettergofindfood—”
“No,that’swhatIwassaying.Thesecupboardsarestockedwithpackagedfood.There’smilkinthe

fridge,West.It’snotevenexpired.Whichmeanswedon’tneedtofindany.There’splenty.Weeks’
worth,probably.”

Milk.Notsomethingyoukeeponhandoverlongperiodsoftime.Whichmeanssomeonewashere

veryrecently,justlikeIsuspected.“We’renotgoingtobehereforweeks.”GoodGod,atleastIhope
wewon’tbe.“Maybeweshouldjusteatandgotosleep.”

“Inhere?”Toriasks.“Orthebedroomsoutthere?”
Ilookoveratthecouchandpicturelastnight.Itwasnicetobenearher.Imissherbodynextto

mine.ImissthescentofherhairasIsleep.Iwantthatforanothernight,butI’mnotsurehowtoinsist
onthisroomwhenthere’sawholehouseaboveusandnochanceanyonewillcomelookingtonight.

“Upstairs,Ithink.Wecantakethisfoodupstairs.ThefirstnotesaidI’dknowwhattodowiththis
room.AndrightnowIdon’t.Sowemustnotneedityet.”

“I’mnotlockingmyselfinthatroom,WestonConrad.Nomatterwhathappens.Sofuckyeah,I’m

sleepingupstairs.”

Andthenshewalksout,aboxofcrackersandablockofcheeseclutchedinherhands.
FuckingToriArias.Why,ofallpeopletogetstuckonanislandwith,doesithavetobeher?The

onlygirlIwantbutcan’thave?

Andthisnewrevelationaboutherpast.ItintriguesmeandsendsmyMr.Corporatecynicisminto

overdriveatthesametime.BecauseIseewhat’scoming.She’sgottenalittleglimpseintomyliesas
well.AndifIwantmoreofher,she’llwantmoreofme.

SomethingIcannot—willnot—giveup.
Sowearedoomed.Again.Ihopethatbigassholeintheskyinchargeofironyisenjoyinghimself

rightnow.Ormaybeit’sherself?Ibetthegodofironyisfemale.

Ileavetheweird-assroomMysterioushassetupandmakemywaybackupstairs.Toriissittingon

thecouchwithaplateofcheeseandcrackersproppeduponapillow,watchinganoldrerunof
Seinfeldontheflatscreen.

Canthistripgetanyweirder?
“Ilovethisepisode,”Torisays,cheeseslicerinhandasshecarvesofflittlesliversofcheddar.

“GeorgeCostanzaisshowingoffthatfakepictureofJerry’sman-handsgirlfriendtogainaccessto
theForbiddenCity.”ShelaughsattheTV.“He’ssostupid.”

“Soyou’reOKwiththis?”Iask,takingaseatnexttoheronthecouch.Sheoffersmeacracker,but

Ishakemyhead.“Withjustbeingtoldwhattodobymymysteriousfriendwhileahurricanerages
outside.”

Sheshrugs.“I’mnotthinkingaboutit.I’mgoingtoeatandenjoymyselfuntilthepowergoesout.

AndthenI’mgoingtobed.Thisplaceismuchbetterthanthatlastone.Thingscouldbeworse.”

ThisisnotatypicalVictoriaAriasanswer.“SincewhendidyougetsoZen?”
“Sincenow,”shesayssharply,lookingovertostaremeintheeyes.“I’mdonewithyou.Andyour

assholefriends.Andyoursecretlifeasalobsterfisherman.Andwhateverelseyou’rekeepinglocked
awayupinthatheadofyours.”Shebrushesherhandstogethertogetridofhercrackercrumbs,then
setstheplateonthecoffeetableandstandsup.“I’mgoingtogetoutofthesewetclothesandforget
allaboutwhat’shappeningoutsideintherealworld.How’sthatforZen?”

Shewalksovertothedrybagandpicksupherskirtandblouse.Iexpecthertogochangeinthe

bathroom,butshesetsthemonthekitchenislandbar,herbacktome,andreachesbehindherselfto
unclaspherbra.

Fuck.Myeyesaregluedtoherbody.Thesmallmusclesinhershoulders,thewayherlonghair—

whichisstartingtodrynow—ripplesalongherbackasthelavenderbraslipsdownherarmsand
dropstothefloor.Shegrabshersilkblouseandputsiton,pullingherhairoutfromthenecklineas
shelowersherheadtobuttonitup.

“Shit.”
“What?”Iask,stillmesmerized.
“Ilosttwobuttonsandthere’saripinmyshirt.”WhensheturnsaroundIcanseeherpeaked

nipplesthroughthethinsilk.Thetwomissingbuttonsaretheonesnearthetop,soherbreasts
practicallyhangout.ShepretendsnottonoticethatI’mstaringandjustwigglesherskirtupherhips,
thenzipsitup,andbeginspullingherpantiesdownherlong,tannedlegs.

“Areyougettinganicelook?”sheasks,stillconcentratingonherwardrobechange.
“Well,you’recertainlyputtingonaniceshow.”
Sheanglesherheadtolookatmewithaslygrin.

Yes,thegodofironyisdefinitelyagoddess.IfIwasbackintherealworld,I’djustwalkoutand

getasfarawayfromherasIcould.Asfastaspossible.Infact,thiswould’venevergonethisfar
becauseIknowhowaddictivesheis.

“Blackbelt,huh?”sheasks,comingbacktothecouchandgrabbingherplateofcheeseand

crackers.

“I’mnottalkingaboutit.”
“Well,that’sfine.”Sheslicesoffanothersliverofcheeseandpropsitonacracker.Iwatchhertake

abiteandwishherperfectlipswerewrappedaroundmycock.

Stopit,Weston.She’snotreal.She’ssomeillusionofdaysgoneby.She’snotevennice.She’satotal

bitch,remember?Slapsyourfaceeverychanceshegets.Playsgames,andthrowsfits,andgenerally
actslikebeingwildisagiftandnotherowndesperateattempttocoverupallthebadthingsinher
past.

“Wecantalkaboutyouinstead,”Isay.“Aboutyourlittleblack-beltexperience.EventhoughIknow

whyyouactthewayyoudo.”

“Doyou?”Sheeyesme,daringmetokeepgoingdownthislineofquestioning.
“Iwasthere,remember?”
“Youweren’tthere,”shesnaps.“Youcameafterward,Weston.Justlikemyfather.Youwerelate,

justlikeeveryoneelse.”

“Soit’smyfault?Nothis?”
“Ididn’tsaythat,”shewhispers,concentratingonherfood.“Andifitcameoutthatway,well,I

didn’tmeanit,either.”

“Butyounevertoldanyone.”
“Justshutup,Weston.Youhavenorighttogivemethethirddegreeaboutrunningaway.”
“Maybenot,butwhatyoudidwaswrong.Youlethimgetawaywithit.Howmanyotherwomen

hasheattackedsincethatnight?”

“Fuckyou.It’snotevenlikethat,so—”Butsheabruptlystopstalking.
“So?What’sitlike?”
Shesmilesthatsmileshedoes,theonethatsays,Ifyouwantsomethingfromme,Iwantsomething

back.“Whywereyouworkingonaboatwhenyouwereseven?”

Iconsiderherquestion.It’snotadangerousonetoanswer.Notreally,ifIkeepalltheimportant

detailsoutofit.Andthereasonsheneverwentafterherattackerthatnighthasbeeneatingawayatme
sinceithappened.

SoIanswer.“Wewerepoor.Weneededthemoney.”
“Poor?Ha!”Shebeltsoutalaugh.“Youwerepoorwhenyouwereakid?”Shelaughsagain.

“Well,Ibetthatrags-to-richestalemustbeveryinterestingthen,right?BecausewhenImetyou,your
closetwasfilledwiththousand-dollarsuits,youweredrivinganAstonMartin—eventhoughthat’s
aboutthemostpretentiouscaryoucanowninAmerica,asidefromaRollsRoyce—andyoubought
meatwenty-thousand-dollarengagementring.”

“Yeah,Istillhavethatring.”
Herbrowsknittogetherasshefrowns.“Irefusetofeelguiltyaboutthat.”
“I’mnotaskingyouto.I’mjuststatingafact.”
Torihuffsoutsomeairandtossesherhairthewayshedoeswhenshe’stryingtogetover

somethingthatbothersher.“Sohowdidyougofrompoorpatheticlobsterboytopayingcashforan
IvyLeagueeducation?”

“TellmewhyyouneverturnedthatguyinandI’lltellyouhowIgothere.”
Shesquintshereyesatme,lookingforthetrap.Oh,I’velaidone.I’mverycarefulaboutmypast

andthere’snowayinhellshe’sgonnagetthatoutofmesoeasily.

“OK,”shesays,afterconsideringmyofferforafewmoments.Shetakesadeepbreath.“OK.IfI

tellyousomething,thenyoutellmesomething.”

“Deal.Whydidn’tyouturnhimin?”
Themusclesinherjawclenchforasecondandthenshetakesinalongbreathofairandletsthe

wordsoutontheexhale.“Iknewhim.”

“Youknewhim?Hewastheguyyoubrokeupwiththenightwemet?”
Shenods.
“Jesus,fuck,Victoria.Whatthehell?”
“Don’tjudgeme,”shesnaps.“Ihavemyreasons.”
“Whatpossiblereasoncouldyouhavetoprotectanassholelikethat?Afterwhathedidtoyou,

Tori?Holyfuck!”

“Hewasthreateningmyfather ’slegacy.”
“Legacy?”
“I’mnottellingyouanymore.Iansweredyourquestion,nowyouanswermine.”Herexpression

goesflat,likehard,coldsteel.“Howdidyourfamilygofromdirtpoortofilthyrich?”

IhavehadthisanswerreadysinceIwassevenyearsold.I’vejustneverhadtotellitbefore.SoI’m

carefulasIconsidermywords.Veryfuckingcareful.“Myfatherranasalvagebusiness.”

“Salvage?”Toriasks,tryingoutthenewword.“What’sthatmean,exactly?”
“Youknow,treasurehunting.Intheocean.”
“Really?”Shesmiles,picturingit.
“Yeah.Buthesortasuckedatit.Untilhedidn’t.Wefoundsometreasure.Intheocean.In

internationalwaters.Itwasabigfindanditwasafishingboat,notaship.Fromalongtimeago.So
wedidn’thavetosurrenderit.Wekeptthefind,casheditin,andtherestishistory.”

“Hmmm,”Torisays.“That’sit?That’showyourfamilywentfromsopoor,youhadtocatch

lobsterstopaythebillsto…”—shepointsatme—“tothis?”

“Yup.That’sit.Yourturn.What’syourfather ’slegacy?”
Shehesitates.Why?It’snotlikethisinformationcan’tbediscovered.Imean,ifshedoesn’twantto

tellme,andMysteriousandIarestillonspeakingtermswhenthisisallover,Icanhavehimdigup
herdirt.Itwouldbeveryeasytogetwhateverinformationshe’shiding.

“Hesavedme.Myfather,thenoblepoliceman.Hesavedmeandtaughtmehowtodefendmyself

andtookcareofme.ButI’mnottheonlyonehesaved.”

“Goon,”Isay.
“Herunsacharitableorganization.Forkidslikeme.Andwhenyoustartedtheheadhunting

businessIsawanopportunitytomakemoney.”

“Soyoucopiedme.”
“Doesthatpissyouoff?”shesneers.“Thatawomancoulddothesamejobasyou?”
“Don’tbesnide,Tori.I’mnotamisogynist.Idon’thatewomenorthinktheyareincapableof

contributing.Ijustwantmywifetobemywife.”

“Ithinkit’sthesamething.”
“Well,it’snot.”Westareateachotherforamoment.“Sowhatdoeshislegacyhavetodowith

yourex,therapist?Andbytheway,itneverescapedmyattentionthatIwasaccusedofrapetwenty-
fourhourslater.”

“Nowit’syourturntostopbeingridiculous,Weston.Webothknewyouwereinnocent.Isawthe

wholething.Youwerenevergoingtojailforthat.Youhadawitness.”

“Butmyfriendscould’ve.Theydidn’thaveanalibilikeme.”
“Idon’tthinkitwashim,”shesays,withmorethoughtfulconsiderationthanthisguydeserves.
“Whyareyoudefendinghim?Herapedyou.Youlethimgetawaywithit.Andyouhavenoidea

whowasbehindthoseaccusations.Noonedoes.”Istopforasecond,consideringthis.“Unlessyoudo
knowandyounevertoldme.”

“Idon’t,”sheseethes.“Andifyouaccusemeofthatagain,I’llwalkoutofyourlifewhenthisis

overandnevercomeback.”

Ishouldbemoreconcernedwiththefactsathand,withallthesecretsthatmightcomespillingout

ofthisverydangerousconversation,withthereasonwhyshe’stooafraid,ortooproud,ortoo
somethingtotellanyonewhatreallyhappenedtoherthenightafterwemet.Butmythoughtsare
consumedwiththepossibilitythatshewon’twalkoutonme.Thatwemighthaveachanceatasecond
chance.ThatshemightrethinktheanswershegavewhenIaskedhertomarryme—sixfuckingtimes.

ChapterTwenty-Five-Victoria

WestissilentforafewminutesandItrytopretendI’mmoreinterestedinSeinfeldthanIamhim

untilIcan’tstanditanymore.

“Idon’tknowwhosetyouup,Weston.AndithurtsmethatyouthinkI’dkeepthatfromyouifI

did.”

He’sstaringoutthewindowwhenIlookoverathim.It’slikeahurricaneoutthere.Butmaybenot

reallyahurricane.Abadstormforsure.Butmyfearofblowingawayorbeingswallowedupbythe
seahasabated.Thishouseisinthemiddleoftheislandsurroundedbyallkindsoftreesandbrush,
andhighuponahill.Icanseetheocean,butit’snottwentyfeetoutsidethewindow,liketheother
island.Andwehavepower,satelliteTV,andfooddownstairs.Hisfriendputushere,forwhatever
reason.Sothisis…controlled.Ilikecontrolled.

Whichisfunny,Isuddenlyrealize.BecauseWesthasbeentryingtocontrolmylifesincewemet

andIrailagainstitwithallmybeing.

Why?
WhydoIfeeltheneedtorefusehim?
“I’msorry,”Westsays,leaninghiselbowonthearmofthecouchtopropuphischin.
Iletoutasigh.“Iacceptyourapology.”
Helooksoveratme,openshismouthtosaysomething,thinksbetterofit,thenshakeshisheadand

looksoutthewindowagain.

“What?”Iask.“Whatwereyougoingtosay?”
“Nevermind.Iwillrespectyourprivacy.Obviouslyyoudon’twanttodiscussyourpastwithme,

andIshould’verealizedthatalongtimeagoanddroppedit.SoI’mgonnadropitnow.Fuckit.I
probablydon’tknowanythingaboutyou,doI?”

“Ifeelthesameway.”Itrynottosounddefensive,butI’mnotgoodathidingmyfeelings.“You

nevertoldmeyouwerepoor.Oranythingaboutfindingtreasure.That’skindofexciting,don’tyou
think?That’ssomethingamanwouldtellhisgirlfriend,right?Yetyounevertoldme.”

“Iletyoubelievewhatyouwantedtobelieve.”
“WhatdidIwanttobelieve?”
“ThatIwassomeborn-and-bredrichasshole.”Heshrugs.“Whatever.Idon’tcareifyouthinkof

methatway.It’sbetterthanpeoplethinkingofmeassomepoorkidwhohadtoworksincehewas
seventoclimboutoftheholehisparentsputhimin.”

Ithinkhardaboutthatanswer.“Ithoughtyouwereongoodtermswithyourparents?”
“Iam,”hesaysquickly.“Why?”
“Well,yousoundedalittle…bitterjustthen.”
“I’mnotbitter.I’moverit.”
OK.Ineedtodropthat.Thepastneedstostayinthepast.That’smystoryandI’mstickingtoit.I

wantmypasttostayhidden,sohowcanIblamehimifhewantshistostayhiddentoo?

“Doyouwanttohavedinnerwithme?”Westblurtsout.
“Dinner?Like,whenwegotthisislandandgetbacktoourreallives?”
“No,”hesayssoftly.“Like,tonight.”
“Idon’tthinkIhaveachoice.”Ilaugh.

“Youhaveachoice,VictoriaArias.It’salwaysbeenyourchoice.Butthat’snotwhatImean.I

mean,wouldyouliketohaveanicedinnerwithmetonight?”

Ilaugh.“Likeadate?Towhere?Therainy,windybeach?”
“Howaboutdownstairs?Andit’snotreallyadate.Justanicedinner.I’llgogetussomethingout

oftheocean.Iknowwheretofindlobstersinaturbulentsea.”

Ijuststareathim.“You’reserious?”
“I’mserious.Ifeellikemaybeourrelationshipcanstartovernow.Likewe’vecometosomekind

ofconclusionandI’mreadytojust…befriends.That’swhatyou’vealwayswantedfrommeeach
timewebrokeup,right?Justtobefriends.”

Justfriends.Irollthewordsaroundinmymind.Ididwantustoremainfriends,butWestwas

alwaystheonetopickupandleave.Anewcontract,oranewapartment,oranewstate…whatever.
Girlfriends,probably.I’msurprisedhedoesn’thaveonenow.Howdoesamanwholookslikethat
nothavedozensofgirlshangingoffhimateverymoment?

“Well?”heasks.
“Idon’twantyougoingoutintotheoceanagain,sonototheseafood.Butifyoucanwhipup

somethingbetterthancheeseandcrackers,I’minforthat.I’mstarving.”

“OK,”hesays,standingup.Iletmyeyeslingeronthemusclesinhisbarelegsforamoment,

beforetrackinguphisperfectlytonedbodyandfinallymeetinghisgaze.He’sgotalittledevious
smirkonhisface.“I’llgetrightonit.”

Andthenhegrabshiswrinkledclothesfromthedrybag,whichisstillonthefloorwhereIleftit

whenIchanged,anddisappearsdownstairs.

Ittakesmeseveralminutestorealizewhathejustdid.
Tookcontrol.God,whydoeshehavetobelikethat?Andwhydoesitmakemesodefensive?
Don’tgothere,Tori.Justdon’tgothere.Leaveitalone.Lethimmakeyouafriendlydinner.

Tomorrowthestormwillbetotallygoneandwe’llfindawayoutofhere—eitherwiththeradioorhis
friendwillshowup.Andwe’llgobacktoourseparatelives.

Ineedtocometotermswiththefactthatmybusinessisbankrupt.IneedtotellmyfatherthatI’ve

lethimdown.AndIneedtocallthatguywhosentmeonthisjobandlethimknowIfailed.

Iwillnotbeabletodeliverwhatheaskedfor.

“Hey,”Westsays,shakingmyshoulder.Isitupalittleandlookaround,confused.“Iguessyou

weretired,”hesays.

Isitallthewayupandtakehimin.He’swearinghisclothesagain,whicharedirty.Theshirtis

rippedfromthelobstersandit’sstainedaniceoff-whitecolornowfromtheseawater.Still,he’s
lookingquiteputbacktogethercomparedtothewildboypersonahe’sbeensportingthepastcouple
days.“What’shappening?”Iask.

“Notmuch.Thestormisdyingdown.Justsomehardrainnow,butnotmuchwind.Anddinner ’s

ready.”

Dinner.Iforgotaboutthat.
“Areyouhungry?”Westasks,whenIstaysilent.
“Yes,”Isay,gettingupandwrigglingmytoo-shortskirtdownmylegs.Ishouldputmybraand

underwearbackon.Theyareprobablydry.Anditwouldgoalongwaytowardsnothavingsexwith
WesttonightlikeIdidlastnight.

But…ifwehavetogobacktoournormallivestomorrow,what’sonemorenightdownmemory

lane?

IleavethebraandunderwearhangingonthebarstoolwhereWestleftthemandstartdownthe

stairs.

“Idon’tsmellanything.”
“Well.”Helaughsbehindme.“Ihadtomakedowithwhatwehad.”
WhenIgettothedoorofthesafeIstopandsmile.Hehasthesmalldinettetablesetwithpaper

platesandplasticdinnerware.Papertowelsarebeingusedasnapkinsandtherearetwoemergency
candleslitbetweentheplacesettings.There’sevenaredflowersittinginamugactingasavase.

“Youreallyknowhowtoimpressawoman,”Isay,walkingovertothetable.“Wheredidyouget

thatflower?”

Westpullsachairoutandmotionsformetosit.Healwaysdidhavemanners.Ismileandsit,

lettinghimhelpmescootthechairin.“There’satree,justoutsidethefrontdoor.”

Isigh.He’skindofcharming,right?Inhisownway.“Whatarewehaving?”Iask.
Westhasanoldfryingpanlidcoveringaplateonthetable.Heliftsthelidandsays,“Tonight,Miss

Arias,incelebrationofourtemporaryreunionandthegoodluckofbeingstuckonadesertedisland
withyou,Ipresent…emergencyfoodrationpacknumbertwo-three-seven.Otherwiseknownas
macaroniandcheese.”

“Oh,dear,”Isay.ButI’msmiling.It’ssweet.“Didyoutryityet?”
“Uh,no.Imightskipdinnerandjustenjoythepleasureofyourcompany.”
“Oh,no,youdon’t,MisterCorporate.You’reeatingthisshit.”
Heopenshismouthlikehehasaquickcomeback,butthenheshakeshisheadandlooksdownas

hetakeshisseat.

“Didyoujustblush?Youweregonnasaysomethingdirty,weren’tyou?”
“No,”hesays,placinghispapertowelnapkininhislap.“ButIlovethatyouwerethinkingI’dsay

somethingdirty.”

“You’relying,”Imuse,takingthelittlecupofmacandcheesefromtheplate.Ipeelbacktheplastic

thatcoversthetopandinhale.“Itdoesn’tsmelltoobad.”Ipickupmyplasticforkandtakeabite,
immediatelyspittingitout.“Oh,myGod!”

“It’sterrible,right?”
“Theworst!”Ilaugh.“Someonewouldreallyhavetobestarvingtoeatthis.”
“Wecaneatcheeseandcrackersifyouwant.Orhaveaglassofmilk—”
“No,no,no.I’mgonnaenjoythehelloutofthismacandcheese,WestonConrad.Youmadeit,and

yousetthetableandlitcandles.SoI’meatingit.It’stheleastIcando.”

“DoIhavetoeatit?”
Webothstartlaughing.
“Comeon,Weston.Where’sthatboyishspirityouhadhuntingtreasureasakid?”
“You’regonnamakemeeatthis,aren’tyou?”
“It’snotthatbad,Iswear.Takeabite.”
Hegrimacesasheforkssomemacandcheeseintohismouth,butthensmilesashechews.“Hey,

it’sprettygood.I’mnotabadcookafterall.Butyou,MissArias,youcancookthehelloutofsome
pasta.”

“IdomakeaprettynicehomemademacandcheeseifIdosaysomyself.”
“God,yeah.IthinkIfellinlovewithyouwhenyoumadethatprimeribatChristmasthatfirst

year.”

“Rememberthatapartment?Itwasnice,youknow?Isortalovedthatyouwereoutofschool.I

knowthat’sprettyhorrible,consideringyouhadthosebullshitchargesandthatwastheonlyreason
wegottoshackuptogetherfivetownsover.Butitwasnicecominghometoyouafterclasses.And

wakingupwithyou.”

Holyshit,whatamIdoing?Ishouldnotbetalkingaboutthepastlikethis.Leastofallabouthow

greatitwastosleepwithhimeverynight.

“Yeah.Ihaditeasycomparedtotheotherguys.IneverreallythoughtI’dbefoundguilty.Imean,

youweremysecretweapon.”

Ihavetosmileatthat.“Iwas,wasn’tI?”
“Youmadeitallbetter,Tori.Forreal.Idon’tthinkI’veeverproperlythankedyouforstickingby

me.”

Ishrug.“Yousavedme,West.ThatnightIstumbledontoyourself-pitypartyoutinfrontofthe

administrationbuildingchangedmylife.”

“Rememberwhenwegotthatturtle?”Hedrawsinadeepbreathashelaughs.
“Sheldon.”Istartgiggling.“Wewerepracticingbeingparents.”
“Ithinkyoutookitalittletoofarwhenyoustartedsewingclothesforhim.Especiallysinceyou

madehimdresses.”

“Turtlescan’tweartrousers.”Mysmileissobigmycheeksmightcrack.
“Youweregoodatit,youknow.”
“Mygrandma…adoptedgrandma.Shetaughtmehowtoknitdollyclothes,eventhoughIwastoo

oldtoplaywithdollswhenImether.Shesaideverymotherneedstoknowhowtomakedollyclothes
fortheirlittlegirls.Ibetshe’dhavelovedtoseeSheldoninhisdresses.”

“Well,yeah,youweregoodatmakingturtledresses.ButwhatImeantis,youweregoodatallthat

stuff,Tori.Thathomestuff.Momstuff.”

“West,please.Whydoyoualwayshavetobringitup?Idon’tknowwhattosaytoyouaboutit.I

don’twanttostayhomeandbesomegoodlittlewife.”

“Youcould’vebeenmywildwife.”Andhesaysitsoseriously,andhelookssosadasthewords

comeout…Iwanttoputmyarmsaroundhimandapologize.“Youcould’vebeenmycrazy,wild
wife,VictoriaArias.AndI’dhavefuckinglovedit.Iwould’veletyouthrowplatesatme.I’mpretty
goodatducking.”

Itakeadeepbreathandlookdownatmyplasticcartonoffood.“Itwould’vegonewrongfast

enough.”

“Why?”heasks.“Whydoyousaythat?”
“Becausethat’swhathappenswhenyougetmarried.”Ilookupathim.“Youfalloutoflove.It

mightnothappenrightawaybutitalwayshappens.”

“Sayswho,Victoria?There’snotimelimitonlove.”
Iswallowhardandshakemyhead.“It’sinevitable.Nothinglastsforever.Youhavetheseperfect

weeksofhoneymooningandenjoyingwildsex,anddiscoveringeverythingabouteachother.Butwe
alreadyhadthat,Weston.Anditwasneverenoughforyou.Whydoyouneedthatpieceofpaper?”

“Whydon’tyouneedthatpieceofpaper?”
“Becauseit’smeaningless—”
“It’snotmeaningless.It’sgotsomuchfuckingmeaning,Tori.Itmeansyou’remywife.Itmeans

you’remypartner.ItmeansyougeteverythingofmineifIdie.It’sapromisetoeachother,toour
futurekids,totheworld.”

“Itmightmeanthattoyou,buttomeitmeanswe’reonatimelimit.Itmeanstheclockisticking

untilwefallapart.Itmeanswehaveanexpirationdate.”

Hestopstoconsidermyanswer.Itsaysalotaboutme.ThingsIshouldprobablynotlethiminon.

“Isthatwhyyoualwayssaidnotome?Becauseweweredoomedfromthestart?Becauseyou’re
afraidoffallingoutoflove?”

“Sheldoncouldn’tkeepustogether.”

Westsmiles,butit’ssad.“Ihavemorefaithinyouthanyouhaveinme.AndIhatethat.”
“Whycouldn’twejuststaythewaywewere?Imean,lookathowmuchwefought,Weston.Itwas

ridiculous.”

“Ourfightswereaboutthefuture.Weneverfoughtaboutday-to-daythings.Youneverbitchedat

meaboutmysocksonthefloororleavingdishesinthesink.”

“You’reaneatfreak,Ineverhadto.”
“Ineverbitchedatyouforspendingmoneyorcleaningthehouse.”
“You’refilthyrich,Weston.Andwehadamaidcleanthehouse.”
“Seehowperfectwewere?”He’sgotasmileonhisface,butthere’salotofuncertaintyinthat

smile.

“Doyouwanttogetbacktogetherwithme?”Iask.“Isthiswhatyou’redoingrightnow?Courting

meforarenewedrelationship?”

Hestaresatmeforamoment,thenshakeshishead.“No.Ijustwantyoutorealizethatwewere

good.Andthereasonwefellapartwasbecauseyouwereafraid.”I’mabouttosaysomething,buthe
continues.“Besides.Wecan’tgobackanyway.Ifeellikeweneverevenkneweachother.”

Istartpickingatmyfood.“Well,that’strue.HowcouldIeverbewithamanwhorefusestotellme

abouthispast?”

“Doyouwanttoknowmypast,Tori?”
Ishrug,but,“Yes,ofcourse,”comesoutofmymouth.
“Iwanttoknowyourstoo.Let’stelleachotherourpasts.Tonight.Let’spretendit’sthatfirstweek

wemetandthatrapechargeneverhappened.Thatyouweren’treelingfromabadbreakupandthat
assholedidn’trapeyouthenextnight.Thatwedidn’tgetdistractedandjustmeldtogetherintoateam
beforewewereready.Let’strythatbeginningagain.Iwantado-over.”

ChapterTwenty-Six-Weston

“Youknowwhat’sfunny?”
“What?”Toriasks,lookingdownatherplate.
“AlltheotherMistershadtokeepthatnightasecretfromeveryone.Rememberthatguy,Five?

Whotoldusnottotalktoeachother?”

“Sure,”shesays,hervoicesmallandsad.“Irememberyoutellingmeabouthim.”
“Well,noneoftheotherguysevergottotelltheirsideofthestory.Nottotherestofus,ortheir

parents,oreventheirlawyers.BecauseFivecameinandtookover.Sentusonourways.Wetalkedon
thephone,sure.Butnotaboutthecase.Itwasalwaysaboutwhatweweredoing.Whatwe’ddonext.
Howwemighthelpeachother.ButIalwayshadyou.AndIdidn’thavetotellyouwhathappened
becauseyousawthewholething.SoIguessImadeamistakebackthen.”

“Howdoyoufigure?”Shelooksupatme,thosebrilliantvioleteyeswideandwaterylikeshe

mightcry.Shelovesme.Iknowshedoes.

“Iletyoudown.Ididn’tmeantoletyoudown,Tori.Itjusthappenedsofast.”
“Iknow.”Shesighs.“Itdidhappenfast.That’swhyIwasn’tsureifwewerereal.”
“We’rereal,MissArias.AndmaybeIdidn’tstartthistripwithgettingtoknowyoubetterinmind,

butit’snotabadwaytoendit,right?”

“Idon’twanttotalkaboutit.”Shesaysitinaveryfirmvoice.Thereisnowayshewilltellme

what’shiddenbehindthoseeyes.Noway.Nottonight.

“OK,”Isay,givingin.“Butareyouwillingtolisten?BecauseIthinkIdowanttotalkaboutit.My

past,Imean.Notyours.”

Sheblinksatme.“Howmuchmoreisthere?”
Ishrug.“Alotmore.”
Sheconsidersthisforafewmoments,butremainssilent.
“Areyouinterested?”
Shenods.“Yes.”
Istandupandwalkaroundthesmalltable,extendingmyhand.“Thencomewithme.”
Ileadherbackupstairs—allthewayupstairs—tothebedrooms.AndthenItakeherintothemaster

bedroomwheretheviewoutthemassivefloor-to-ceilingwindowispalmtreesthrashing,rain
pouringdownsohardthatriversarerunningdowntheglass,andtheangryoceanthatwantstoeat
thisislandalive.I’vegotablanketonthefloorinfrontofthewindowandImotionforhertotakea
seat.

Shedoes,andIdoaswell.
“Putyourheadinmylap,Victoria.AndlookupatmeasItalk.”It’sanorder,andshehatesorders.

Butforwhateverreason,shecomplies.Istrokeherhair,lovingthesoftnessofit.Andthesmell.Even
thoughitsmellslikesalt,andrain,andwind,andithasn’tbeenbrushedintwodays.

IlovethisversionofVictoriaArias.Thewildone.Notjustontheinside,buttheoutsidetoo.She

neverletsherselfbewildinappearance.Sheisalwaystailored,andpolished,andput-together.

“Myfatherwasadrunk.”Ilookintohereyestoseehowshetakesthis,butshejustnodsherhead

formetokeepgoing.“Nottheharmlesskind,either.Thewife-beatingkind.Thekid-beatingkind.
Thekindwhotakeshispaycheckattheendoftheweekendandbuysenoughbeertoputhimintoa

stuporfortheweekend.MymomleftwhenIwassix.”

“Sheleftyoubehind?”
“Shehadnochoice.Shewascommittedfortryingtokillherself.”
“Oh,myGod,West.That’sterrible.Whereisshenow?”
“Oh,shesucceeded.Aboutsixmonthsaftertheytookheraway.Ithinkshewasalwaysmentallyill,

youknow?Alwaysonthevergeofsuicide.Theyletheroutonaweekendfurloughbecauseshewas
gettingbetter.SomydadandIwenttothemainlandtopickherup.Andhetoldhershewasn’tgoing
backtothehospital.Hewastakingherhome.Shetoldhimhowhappyshewasaboutthat.Andweall
wenttolunchbeforetakingtheboatbacktoNantucket.Andbeforeyouaskmehowwegottoliveon
Nantucketifweweresopoor,thathousewasashack.Itwasinmyfather ’sfamilyforsixgenerations.
Ithadanouthouse,forfuck’ssake.Sothat’show.”

“Jesus,West.”
“Sowegottotherestaurantandweallorderedourfood.Andmymomsaidshehadtousethe

restroom.Shenevercameback.Sheslitherwristsinthebathroomwithasteakknife.Anddoyou
knowwhatmyfathersaidthenextday,whenwewerefinallybackhome?”Idon’twaitforananswer.
It’sarhetoricalquestion.“Hesaid,‘Shecould’vedoneitbeforesheorderedthefoodsoIdidn’thave
topayherbill.’”

Torisitsup,hereyeswideandhermouthopen.“Yourdadsaidthat?”
“Yeah.Hecouldn’tcarelessabouther.AndevenIknew,attheageofsix,thatshekilledherself

becausehewastakingherhome.”

“Ijustcan’tpictureyourdadsayingthat.Helookssonormalinthosephotographs.Sothat’syour

step-momwithhim?Howdoyoueventalktohimstill?”

Ijustkeepgoing.Whynot?I’monarollnow.“ThenextyearIgotthatjobwithanotherboat

company.Myfatherhadafishingboat,right?Butheneverworkedregularly.Hewastoodrunktoget
outofbedfourdaysoftheweek.AndIstartedmakingmoneytopayourbills.Soyousee,Tori,you
peggedmeallwrong.I’mnottheguyyouthinkIam.”

“Andthenyoufoundthattreasure?Whenwasthat?”
“Iwasfourteen.Iwasastraight-AstudentinschoolbecauseIsawtherichkidsontheisland.They

wereonlysummerpeople,butIsawthem.Metsomeofthem.Learnedaboutthem,andtheirlives,and
whatkindoffuturestheirparentsplannedforthem.AndIwantedtobejustlikethem.SoImadeit
happen.IwasfourteenwhenmydadandIfoundthattreasure.It’sfunnyhowmoneychangesyour
life.Itcertainlychangedmine.Itookthatmoneyandgotintoaprivateschoolonthemainland.And
therestjustsortofworkeditselfout.”

Shelooksoutthewindowasshethinksaboutmystory.
Iwait.Iwaitforhertocometoaconclusion,oraskanotherquestion,ortellmeshe’ssosorry.
Butshedoesmorethanthat.
ShestartswiththewordsIsodesperatelyneedtohear.
“LucioGoriJuniorwasthefirstboyIeverhadsexwith.”
IthinkIstopbreathing.
“Anditwasn’tconsensual.Notinmyeyes.Iwasonlyeleven.”Torilooksupatme.“Hewas

seventeen.”Shelooksoutthewindow.

“JesusfuckingChrist.”
“Hecalledmehisgirlfriend.Hetookmeon‘dates.’AndIusetheterm‘dates’inquotationmarks

becausetheyweretripstothewoods,ortothebackofhisfather ’sgarage,orwhereverhecouldfind
thatgotusalonetogether.He’dsay—butIhavetostopmyselffromusingthenameheusedtocall
me.Iwillneversaythatnameagain.Notevennow,whileI’mconfessingmypasttoWestonConrad.
“He’dsay,‘Comeon,Vicki.’God,Ihatethenameheusedtocallme.‘Comeon,Vicki.Wehaveadate

today.’AndI’dgo.Becausemymomworkedforhisdad.”Shelooksupatmeagain.“Hisdadisa
dangerousman.Youdon’tfuckwithLucioGoriSenior.”

Shedoesn’tneedtospellitoutforme.Icanreadbetweenthelines.
“But…whenIwasfourteenLucioJuniorfoundoutIlikedanotherboy.Mymomhadalreadytold

SeniorI’dmarryhisson.Iwaspromisedtohim.That’swhywelivedinoneoftheirhousesforfree.
Youwouldn’tthinkthiskindofarrangedmarriagethinghappensinAmericaanymore,butitdoes.It
doeswhenyou’reagirlwithamotherlikeIhad.SoJuniorbeattheshitoutofme.Iwassobadlyhurt
theyhadtotakemetoadoctor.Notahospital,buttheirdoctor,youknow?”

Inod,eventhoughshe’snotlookingatme.Iknow.
“Andtheyhadtoleavemethereovernight.AndIknewthatifIdidn’ttakeastand,rightnow,inthis

moment,whileeveryonewassleepinginthelittlemakeshifthospital,whiletheGorifamilywasback
attheirhouse,andwhilemymotherwasoffdoingdrugsorsellingherbody,orwhateverthefuckit
wasshedid…thatI’dbestuck.SoIranaway.Irantothepolicestationandfoundthemanwhowould
eventuallyadoptme.HewasthedetectiveinchargeoforganizedcrimeinanotherpartofNewYork.
Hetookmethere,outofBrooklyn.Andthat’swhereIstayed.Safe.Brand-newlife.Abrand-newgirl.
Asmartgirlwhotriedhardanddidalltherightthings.

“AndthenIgotintoBrown.Onscholarship,thankstomydad.AndIforgotwhoIwasandwhereI

camefrom.UntilonenightLucioGoriJuniorshoweduponmydoorstepandItookanotherstand
andtoldhimweweredoneforever.Thatifhedidn’tleave,I’dcallthepolice.Myroommateswere
home,soIguesshefelthehadnochoice.Heleft.”

“That’swhathappenedtoyouthenightyoumetme?”
Shenods.“Yes.Andthenextnight,whenIwasattackedandrapedafterIspentthedaywithyou,

thatwasLucioagain.Ithappenedinanalley,inbroaddaylight.Itwasalwaysinbroaddaylightwhen
hetookme.Likehehadnothingtohide.Likehewasuntouchable.Hesaid,‘You’remineandI’lltake
youwheneverIwant.’Butbysomestrokeofluck,henevercameback.Ithoughtmaybeitwas
becauseIwasdatingyou?Andyouweresohigh-profileatthetime?Idon’tknow.Buthenevercame
backafterthatlastattack.”

Fuck.Thisshitbreaksmyheart.Idon’tknowwhattosayexceptsorry.“Iguesswebothhadit

prettytoughgrowingup.I’msofuckingsorry,Tori.Iwishyou’dhavetoldmesooner.”

Sheshrugs.“Ithinkitworkeditselfout,youknow?Whybringitallbackup?”
Ileandownandkissherlips.Softly.LikeIloveher.AndIdo.Iloveher.“Iwouldneverdothatto

you,”Iwhisper.“I’dkillanyonewhohurtyou,Tori.I’dneverrestuntilIgotthemback.”

“Iknowthat,West.ButIcan’thelpthewayIfeel.WhenpeoplestarttalkingcommitmentIgetthis

panickedfeelinginmychestandmyheartstartsracing.Iwasapieceofpropertytohim,West.I
cannotletmyselfbesomeone’spropertyagain.”

Ikissheragainandsay,“Iwouldnevertreatyouthatway,Tori.Idon’twanttomowyoudownor

keepyouinline.Ijustwanttograbyourhandandbringyoualongfortheride.”

Atearleaksoutofhereyeandrunsdownhercheek.“I’venevertoldanyonethatstory.”
“I’msogladyoutoldme.”
“I’mgladyoutoldmeyourstorytoo.”
MyhandslipsunderneathhershirtandIcaressherbreast.ShecloseshereyesandIgetthisfeeling

of…power.Notpoweroverher,powertomakeherfeelbetter.Ihatethatshestillhaspanicattacks,
butI’dbelyingifIsaiditdoesn’tmakemefeelgoodwhenI’mtheonewhocalmsherdown.

Ijustwanthertoneedme.
“Wecouldtryagain,”Isay.
Shetakesadeepbreath,neveropeninghereyes.
“Wecoulddropoffallthisbaggageandtryagain,Tori.”

“Iloveyou,”shesays.“I’vealwayslovedyou.Iwantthatsobad,eventhoughIhatetoadmitit.”
“Whydoyouhatetoadmitit?”Iask,asIstartunbuttoningthetwobuttonsshehasleftonhersilk

blouse.“Whyisitsoterribletohaveapartnerinlife?Wecouldbegoodtogether,Tori.Wecould
makesomanygoodthingstogether.”

Hereyesopenandsheplacesherhandonmystubbledcheek.Justtheheatofherpalmmakesme

wanthersobad.“Iwanttobelievethat,but—”

Iplaceafingeroverherlips.“JustletmeshowyouhowmuchIunderstandwhatyouneed.OK?

JustletmeshowyouhowwellIknowwhatyouneed.”

ChapterTwenty-Seven-Victoria

Idon’tevenhavetoanswerbecausewebothknowwebelongtogether.Itwassoobvioustenyears

agowhenwefirstmetbackincollege.Thatnightunderthetrees.Thedayafter,whenheshowedup
outsidemyclass.ItwasallsoperfectbeforeLuciocamebackanddidhisdamage.Butwhatwouldit
costmetogiveinagain?Really?Whatwoulditcostmetolethimbackin?Toletusbetogether?To
trusthim?

Ifitdoesn’tworkout,maybeabrokenheart.Buttheysayit’sbettertoloveandlosethanneverto

loveatall.AndeventhoughIneverbelievedthat,Iwanttobelievethat.

“Ithink,”Isaysoftly.HesmilesdownatmelikeIamtheonlypersonintheworld.Likewearethe

onlytwopeopleinthewholeworld.“IthinkIknowwhatyouneedtoo.”

Imightlosethisbet.Itmightbegreatforayear,ortwo,orten.Andthenitmightallgotoshit.But

I’dhavethatyear,ortwo,ortentoholdinmyheart.Yearswe’dprobablybeveryhappy.

“AllIneedisyou,MissArias.Ifellinlovewithyousolongago.AndtheonlythingIwantbackis

yourtrust.Justgiveinalittle.Justletmeguideyouthroughlife,Victoria.Whenyouletmetake
controlyougettothinkless,worryless,panicless.”

“Idon’tknowifIwantthat,Weston.Ireallydon’t.IfeellikeIdoagoodjobmostofthetime.I

don’twanttobeanextensionofyou.Iwanttobeyourpartner.”

Myblousefallsopenandhislipsfindmynipple.Hisfingersfindtheotheroneandhesucksand

squeezes,sendingmymindintothatfloatyexistencethatcomeswithlust.Hismouthisonmymouth,
kissinggentlyatfirst,thenhetakesmylipbetweenhisteethandbiteswithjusttheslightestbitof
pressure.

“Youhaveitallbackwards.Givingintomehasnothingtodowithlosingyourself.Givinginto

mejustmakesusflow.Likeariver,Victoria.Withnorocksintheway.Nobendstowindaround.No
cliffstofallover.I’mprettygoodatsuccess,youknow.I’vedoneprettygoodsofar.Justtrustme.
Andjuststartdoingthatrightnow.Letmetakecontrolhere.LetmeshowhowIknowwhatyou
want…whatyouneed.”

God,mywholebodyistinglingfromthesewords.I’veneverheardhimtalkthisway.Maybehe’s

nottheguyIthoughthewas?Ihavebeenwrongaboutsomanythings.

“Sayit,Tori.Sayyou’llgivein.”
Hepositionshisbodyontopofme,hishardcockpressingagainstmybarestomach.Onehand

hikesmyskirtup,grabsmylegundermyknee,andhepullsitoutfromunderhim,exposingmy
pussytohispressure.Iclosemyeyesandmoanashishipsbegintogrindagainstme.

“Sayit,”hecroonsinmyearashepropshimselfupontopofme.
Iopenmyotherleg,spreadmyselfforhim,granthimfullaccess.
HismouthdipsdowntonibbleonmyneckandIcan’thelpit,Igrabhismuscledshouldersanddig

mynailsintohisskin.

“Wildgirl,”hesaysinmyear.“Iknowyou’reawildgirl.Letmeshowyouhowwildwecanbe

together.”

“Oh,God,”Imoan.
“JustsayOK,”hewhisperssoftly.Sosoftlyitmakesmynipplespeakandmypussywet.“Tellme

totakecontrolandwe’lltrythingsmywayforonce.Youwon’tknowifyoulikeituntilyoutry.”

Idon’tthinkIcouldsayno,evenifIwantedto.Andrightnow,Ireallydon’twantto.“OK,”Isay.
“OK,what?”heasks,hisvoicelesssoftnow.Rumbly.Fierce.“Iwhattohearyousayit.”
“OK,you’reincontrol.”
He’sgothishandswrappedaroundmywristsandmyarmsabovemyheadbeforeIcaneventhink.
“West—”
“Shhh,”hesays.“Don’tworry.I’mnotgonnahurtyou.I’mnottryingtoscareyou.Ijustwantyou

toyouexplorethisnewwaywithme.”

Newway?IthinkIknowwhatthatmeans,butIdon’treallythinkIknowwhathemeans.Weston

Conradhasalwaysbeengentlewithme.LikeI’msomethinghemightbreak.Wedon’tdoroughsex.
Notreally.Thatsexagainstthewallyesterdaywasaboutasroughaswedoit.Bendingmeoverthe
backofacouch.Ilikethat.Butwedon’tdoanythingreallyrough.Isthatwhathewants?

He’sstraddlingmenow.Hishandsleavemywrists,buthesays,“Leavethemthere,”justasIthink

ofregainingsomecontrolbytouchinghimback.“Don’t.Move.”

It’snotmean.He’snotrough,either.I’mnotscared.
Itrytobreathedeeplyashestandsup,hisfeetplantedbetweenmylegs,andbeginstounbuttonhis

shirt.Hesmilesatmethewholetime.Andthenhisfingersnimblyundohispantsandhepullsthem
down.Theygetkickedofftothesideandhekneels,hislongcockallhardandthick,restingrightat
theentrancetomypussy.

“God,Iwantyou,”Isay.“Iwantyouinsideme.”
“Iwantyoutoo,”hesays,movingforwarduntilhisdickispositionedinfrontofmyface.“ButI

wanttobeinsideyourmouthfirst.Iwantyoutosuckmycocklikeyoumissedit,MissArias.”

“CanIusemyhands?”Iask,sounsureofwhathe’safter.
Hecloseshiseyesandmoans.“Fuck.Keepaskingmeforpermissionlikethat,Tori,andI’llcome

onyourfacerightnow.Myanswerisno.Nowopenyourmouthandsuckmycocklikeyou’vebeen
dreamingaboutitforthreeyears.”

Ifeelagushofwetnessbetweenmylegsashetellsmethesethings.DoIlikeithisway?
“Idon’tliketoasktwice,Victoria.”
Hesaysmynamelikehe’stalkingbusiness.Likethenegotiationsareoverandit’stimetosignthe

contract.

Iopenandhemovesforward,hishandsplantedontheblanketoneithersideofmyhead.Ifeelthe

smoothtipfirstandswipemytonguearounditinalittlecircle.

“Keepyoureyesopen,”hesays,usingthatsameeventonethatmakesitsoundlikeacommand.“I

wantyoutolookmeintheeyesasyousuckmycock.”

Ihavetotipmyheadbacksomeinordertomeethisgazebecausehe’sleaningforward,andasI

dothat,hisfingersfindmythroat.

Theydon’tsqueeze,butitstartlesme.
“Trustme,”hesays.
Ican’ttalkbackbecausehesinkshiscockintomymouthalittledeeper,pressingmytongueflat

andopeningupmythroat.

I’vesuckedhisdickplentyoftimes.Icantakehimabouthalfwayonagoodday.ButIknowhe’s

alreadythereandIknowhe’snotgoingtoletthatbewherehestops.

Isealmylipsaroundhisshaft,suckingonhimlikenothingintheworldtastesbetterthanhisdick.

Hiseyesbegintoclose,buthecatcheshimselfandsmiles.

Myheadbeginstobobwithhisrockinghipsanditturnsmeontothinkofwhathe’sdoing.Face-

fuckingme.God,Iwantmoreofthis.IcannotbelieveI’msoturnedon.AmIsupposedtobeturned
on?AmIsupposedtolikethis?OramIsupposedtohateitandjustdoitbecausehetellsmeto?

“Tori,”hesays.“Eyesonme.”

Ihadn’trealizedI’dclosedmyeyes.AndIfinditverydifficulttoholdhisgazewhileIsuckhim

off.

“You’resopretty,”hesays,fingerssweepingundermyhair.“Yourlipslooksoprettywrapped

aroundmycock.”

Imoanandclosemyeyesagain.Buthefistsmyhair,pullingitjustenoughtogetmyattention

backwhereitbelongs.Onhim.

“Iwanttocomedownyourthroat,MissArias.Iwantyoutoopenwideandletmestickmycock

deepinsideyourthroatsoIcanmakeyouswallowme.Makeyouchokeonmycome.”

Again,I’msurprisedathowcalmheis.Howsoothinghiswordsare.Eventhoughhiswordsare

filthy,he’ssaysthemlikethey’resweet.

I’mevenmoresurprisedathowcalmIam.
He’sdeep,deepinsideme.Hishipsarestillrocking.Nothardandfast,butslowly.Waytooslowly.
“Takeonehanddown,”hesays.“Andputitbetweenyourlegs.”
Idoit.Immediately.Butmyarmsaren’tlongenoughtoreacharoundhisbodyandfindmyclit.I

moaninfrustrationasIwriggletochangeposition.

WestonConradsmilesatmystruggle.Andthenhethrustsforwardonemoretime,grabsmyhair,

pullinghard,andcomesinsidemymouth.

“Swallow,”hegrowls,fightingtokeepeyecontactwithme.“SwalloworI’llneverletyoucome

tonight.”

I’mpracticallychokingonhissemen,andlotsofitdripsoutofmymouthanddownmychin.
ButIdoasI’mtold.IswallowasmuchofhimasIcan.

ChapterTwenty-Eight-Weston

Iflipheroverbeforeshe’sevendone,pressherfaceintotheblanket,liftherhipsupuntilshe’son

herknees,spreadherlegswide,anddiveintoherpussy.Sheissosweet.Everythingaboutherbody
makesmethinkofdessert.Ihaveherwrigglingandmoaningsecondsintogivinghermyfull
attention.

“Tori,”Isay,comingupforair.Igrabherhipsandholdontight.“Doyouwantmeinsideyou?”
“Yes,”shesays,hereyesclosedtight,herheadturnedsidewayswithhermouthopen.God,Iwant

tofuckhereverywhichwayrightnow.Ican’tgetenough.“Please,”shebegs.

Iwanttogoslow,Ireallydo.Iwanttomakethislastforever.SoIleanbackandpushmyfingers

insideherslickpussy.Herbackarchesandherlegsbegintotrembleandshake.

“Youwantit,don’tyou?”
“Yes,”shesays.“Iwantyounow.”
“Notyet,wildgirl.Notuntilwelaysomegroundrules.”
“What?”sheasks,openinghereyesandliftingherheadup.“Rules?Don’tfuckwithme,

Corporate!”

Ilaugh.“That’sMr.Corporatetoyou,baby.”
“Weston,”shesays.ButIwigglemyfingersinsideherandonefindsherG-spot,soshetakesa

timeouttomoanandenjoythat.

“Yes?”Iask,totallyamused.
“Justfuckme,youasshole.Youalreadygotoffandleftmehanging.Thisbetternotturnintoa

pattern.”

“Whatifitdoes?Willyousaynonexttime?”
“Imi—”Butshecan’tevenfinishbecauseI’mteasingherclitnow.
“Whatwasthat?Ididn’tcatchtheend.”
“Stopit,youjerk.You’renotallowedtonegotiateduringsex.”
“Well,ifyouweretheonemakingtherules,I’dagreewiththat.It’sunreasonableandunfairto

negotiateinthethroesofpassion.ButI’mgonnadoitanyway.”

“Soshutupandgettoit!”
“First,”Isay,easingmyfingersoutandleaningforward,somychestispressedagainstherback.

“Iwantsomeconcessions.”

“No,”sheblurts.“No.Wefuck,thenwetalk.That’smynewrule.Nomoretalk-fucking.”
“Imaketherules,myvioletwildchild.ButIdon’twantmuch,sojustbequietandlisten.Ijustwant

youtomakemeapromise.”

“No,”shewhines.“That’snotfair.Youalreadygotoff!”
“Listen,Victoria.Justgivemetensecondsandlisten.AllIwantisyourpromisethatyou’llseeme

againwhenthisisover.”

Sheshootsmeawarylookoverhershoulder.“That’sit?”
“That’sit,babe.That’sallIwant.We’regonnahavearealdatewhenthisisoverandwe’regonna

havearealdiscussion.We’regonnacometoanagreementaboutmakingthiswork.Sopromiseme.”

“Fine,”shesays.“Fine.Juststepdownoffyourhighhorseandputyourdickinmystable!”
Ilaughsoloud,itechoesofftheceiling.ButthenIspankherassandsay,“Listen,missy,theonly

wildtalkhappeningwhenyouhavesexwithmecomesfrommymouth.YourmouthdoeswhatItellit
todo.Understand?”

She’sabouttoreachbackandpunchmeinthefacesoIgrabbothherwristsandbindthembehind

herbackinafirmgrip.

“AndnohittingwhenItalklikethis.It’splayful,Tori.JustletmebethebigstrongmanIamand

playyourpartasmysofter,betterhalf.”

Shestrugglestogetfreeofmyhold,butIgriphertighter.“I’mgoingtomakeyoupayforthis.”
“Youcantry,”Isay,releasingherhandsandslappingherass.
ShelooksatmelikeI’mreallygonnagetclockednow.“Donotslapme.”
Islapheragain.Itcrackssoloud,sheyelpsasherbodytriestotwistandturn.Butmybodyis

there,coveringher.I’vegotmyhandsunderneathhernow,palmssqueezingherbreasts.“Someone
hastotameyou,MissArias.Itmightaswellbeme.”

“You’reinsomuchtroubleafterwe’redone.”
“Ilookforwardtonegotiatingthatproposalwithyou.Now,focus.”Mydickispressingagainsther

asshole,andeventhoughI’dlovetofuckherassrightthismoment,Iwantherpussymore.Right
now,Ijustwanttohearhermoanasshecomesallovermydick.

SoIeaseinsideofherandallthatferociousattitudedisappearswithasigh.
“See,”Isay.“Iknowwhatyouneed.”Ipullout,almostalltheway.Herasstriestofollowmylead,

topreventmycockfromwithdrawing,andinthatmoment,Ithrustforward.Hard.Andagain.Harder.
HerwholebodyispushedforwardontheblanketasIcontinuetofuckherfrombehind.

Aslappingnoisefillstheroom.Theevidenceofourskin-on-skincontact.Hermoansfillthe

room.Evidenceofherarousal.Iamgrunting,myjawclenching.Myhandsaregrippingherhipsso
hard,Imightleavebruises.

“Ohoo,”shesays,eachtimeIpullback.“Uhhhh,”shegroans,eachtimeIfillherbackup.
Ileandown,fuckingherdoggie-styleasIcoverherback,myhipsthrustingandpumping.Ireach

aroundtohermouthandIputmyfingerstoherlips.Shebeginstosuckandlickthem,justlikeshe
didmycock.

It’stoomuch.
Thatlittlebitofactionisthepinnacleofherdesire.
“Come,”Iwhisperinherear.“Comerightnow,Victoria.ComeallovermydickandthenIwill

flipyouoverandeatyour—”

Sheexplodes.Istop,enjoyingthecontractionsofherpussyagainstmyshaft.Andwhentheybegin

tolessen,IdoexactlywhatIsaidI’ddo.

Iflipheroverandeatherpussy.
Shecomesagain.Icoulddothisallday.Mylittlewildwomanismulti-orgasmicmostofthetime,

andIfeellikeputtingthatlittleskilltothetest.Ireachupandsqueezehertits.Hard.Herhipsbuck
againstmymouth,directingmytonguetoherclit.Itakeitbetweenmyteeth,nippingitjusthard
enoughtomakeherwiggletogetaway,andthenIsuckitin,letgo,andswirlmytonguearoundit
likeit’sasweetpieceofcandyandIcan’tgetenough.

Shecomesagain.
Iaminfuckingheaven.
Ipullbackandliedownnexttoherontheblanket.“Getontop,”Icommand.“Now.”
Toriscramblesupfromherpositiononthefloorandstraddlesme,placingherpussydirectlyover

myhardcock.Sheeasesdown,throwsherheadback,andIfillheruponceagain.

HertitsareinmyfaceandIleantowardsthem,mymouthseekingthelarge,roundoutlineofher

nipples.

Myhandsarethere,wrappingaroundherfullbreasts,kneadingthemasshepushesherselftothe

brink.Herhairsways,draggingalongmychest,thelongdarkwavesteasingmeaswemovein
rhythm.

Herbackisarched,hereyesareclosed,pointingtowardstheceiling.Itakeonehandoffhertitand

palmherthroat.

Shecomesagain,thewetnessinsideherpussycoatingmydickwithherhotrelease.
AndthenIfuckhersohard,myballsslapagainstherass.Ifuckhersohard,shehastoputher

headdownonmyshoulderandjustgivein.

Wecometogetherthenexttime.AndeventhoughIknowIshould,Idon’tpullout.ImeantwhatI

said.We’removingforwardwithmyplannow.I’mneverusingacondomorpullingoutagain.

Weliethere,sweating,andhot,andslick,andsatiatedintheaftermath.Ourheartsarebeating

together.Thumpinglikecrazy.Justthinskinandhardenedmusclesseparateus.

Andshesays,“You’readick.”
AndIsay,“Iknow.Butfuckit.IwantwhatIwant.AndIknowyouwantittoo,you’rejustscaredto

admityouneedsomeonelikemeinyourlife.Sofuckit,Tori.I’mjustgonnatake,andtake,andtake
untilyoumakemestop.Andthat’swherewe’llstayforever.Justlikethat.I’llgetasmuchasIcan
fromyou.Andyou’llgiveasmuchasyoucantome.Andthat’sourhappyplace,babe.That’showwe
meetinthemiddle.”

Wefallasleep.Onthefuckingfloor.Sprawledout.Armsandlegstangledtogether.
Happy.
Foronce.

ChapterTwenty-Nine-Victoria

ThesunishotandblazingthroughmyclosedeyeswhenIbegintowakeup.Nopoundingrain.No

whippingwind.Noinsufferablehumidityhangingintheair.

“Hungry?”Westasks,kissingmeonthelips.“Imadeusready-to-eatsurvivalpancakesfor

breakfast.”

Ismileandopenmyeyes.He’sstillNakedMannexttome.HewillstaythatwayalldayifIlethim.

God,Ikindamissthefuckingexhibitionismweusedtoshare.

Ithinkaboutallthewordshesaidtomelastnight.Allthewayshemademefeelgood.AndIgive

in.Fornow.

“Yeah,”Isay,sittinguptolookatwhathebroughtme.“Starving,actually.Idon’tthinkI’ll

complainifyouwanttogocatchussomeseafoodfordinnertonight.”

“We’regoinghometoday.Mysteriouswillcomegetus.”
“Howdoyouknow?”Iask,feelingalittlebitofregretoverthatnews.
“Hesaidhewould.Idon’treallyknowwhatthefuckishappening,butIcan’taffordnottotrust

himrightnow.We’resortastuck.He’llbehere.We’llgobacktothemainlandandI’llfigureitout.”

“WhataboutWallace?”
“You’restillthinkingaboutthatfuckingjob?”Westlaughs.
“Aren’tyou?”
Hemakesaface,whichIknowmeansyes,heis.Buthesays,“Later,Tori.We’lltalkaboutallthat

stufflater.”

“Whylater?”
“Canyoujustrelaxandeatthefuckingpancakes?”
“Don’tbeadicktome.Ijustwanttoknowwherewestandinthatdepartment.”
“Department?Youmeanbusiness?Tori,comeon.Webothknowyourbusinessisbust.IfWallace

isstillavailabletobehunted,I’mtheonewho’sgoingtohunthim.Notyou.”

Istandupandgolookingformyclothes.Ipullmyskirtonfirstandthenslidemyarmsintothe

thoroughlyruinedlavendersilkblouse.

“Andnowyou’regoingtothrowatantrum?EventhoughyouknowI’mright?”
“You’renotright,”Isay,pissedoff.WhydoIeverthinkhe’llchange?WhydoIeverthinkhe’ll

stopbeingacontrollingasshole?WhydoIevergiveintohimatall?Heiswhoheis.“Incaseyou
haven’tnoticed,Mr.Corporate,I’mafighter.”

“Oh,I’venoticed.Youthrowthatfightshitinmyfaceeverychanceyouget.”
“Whyareyoubeinganasshole?Waslastnightjustanotherone-nightfucktoyou?”
“Don’tcheapenmyactionsandwordsjustbecauseyou’retoostubborntofacefacts.Ireallydon’t

appreciatethat,Victoria.EverythingI’veeversaidtoyouwassincere.”

“Yeah,”Isay.“Includingthatwhole‘You’realoser ’shityoujustspewed.”
“Inevercalledyoualoser.”
“Thendonotinsinuatemybusinessisbust!It’snot.I’mfullycapableofbringingitbackfromthe

brink,Weston.I’vegottricksupmysleeve.”

“You’veusedupallyourtricks,Tori.Youhavetostoprelyingontricks.”
“Fuckyou.”Iheadtowardsthedoor,butWestgrabsmyarm.Igrabhisarmwithmyoppositehand

anddisabletheholdinonesmoothmotion.Hebacksoff,handsupintheair,hisclothesinonehand.
“Don’tgrabme,”Isnarl.

“I’mnotgrabbingyou,”hesays,pullinghispantson.“I’mjustlettingyouknowIdon’twantyou

towalkout.Andyouknowyourjujitsumagicwon’tworkonmeanymore.YouknowIcanfight
back.”

“Butyouwon’t,”Isneer.“BecauseyouthinkI’mtooweaktobotherwith.”
AndthenIspinonmyheelandwalkoutthedoor.Igodownthesteps,Westfollowingme

downstairs,takingthemtwoatatime.Andhe’sinfrontofmebeforeIgettothedoor.

“Wherethefuckdoyouthinkyou’regoing?”He’sstillbuttoninghispantsandhisshirtishanging

open.

“Tothebeachtowaitfortherescue.I’mjustdonewithyoufornow.Ifyouwanttotalktomeonce

thisWallaceArlingtonjobisover,I’lltalk.Butuntilthen,you’remyopponent.”

“Youcan’twin,Tori,”hecalls,asIleavethehouseandfindthefootpaththatwilltakemebackthe

waywecame.Iignorehimandjustkeepwalking.

I’msurethere’sprobablyacloserbeach,butthebeachwecamefromisthebeachthatfacesthe

otherisland.Andifpeoplecome,theywillprobablygotherefirst.IneedtobetheresoIcanfigure
outawaytosignalthatwe’rehere.

I’mnotsureaboutCorporate’sfriendMysterious.Ihavenoideawhothatguyis.ButI’mpretty

surethatVladthepilothasalertedthecoastguard.It’sgottobelike…afloat-planepilot’screedor
something,right?Iftheydroppeopleoffwhoexpectapickup,andamassivestormpreventssaid
pickup,thepilothastoalertpeople.

Right?
I’mgoingwithit.Ireallyneedtogetoffthisisland.Myclothesareruined,Idon’tevenhave

underwearon,mytitsaresweatinglikecrazy,andIneedashower.Ismelllikethefuckingocean
rightnow.AndIfeelgross.Allthatsaltisstucktomyskin.

“Tori,”Westcalls,alittlewaybehindmeonthepath.“You’regoingtogetlost.”
“Oh,fuckyou.There’sapathhere,Weston.I’mfollowingit,thesamewaywedidyesterday.”
“Tori,”hesaysagain,joggingupnexttome.“Justfuckingcalmdown.Whyareyousomadabout

thisArlingtonthing?Youknowit’snotenough.Youknowthatonejobwon’tbeenoughtodig
yourselfoutofthemessyou’vemade.”

ThemessI’vemade?Ican’tevenspeakrightnow.SoIignorehimandallthestupidwordsthat

comepouringoutofhismouthaswemakeourwaybacktothebeach.

Whenwegetthere,I’vehadenoughofhimforalifetime.Plus,he’sstillfuckingtalking.
“I’mnotlistening,”Isay,shakingmyheadasIwalkoutontothewhitesandybeachandscanthe

horizon.

Icanjustbarelyseeourisland.ItlooksalotfartherawaythanIthoughtitwas.
DidIreallyswimfromtheretohere?
Ismileatthat.
IguessIdid.I’mhere.Imadeit.I’masurvivor.
NevermindthatWesthadtoputthatlifejacketonmeforthelastlegofthetrip.I’mnotanocean

swimmerandImadeitthreequartersofthewaywithalmostnohelp.

“Goddammit,Tori,”Westyells.“Stopfuckingignoringme!”
“What?”Isay,reelingaroundtogethishandsoffmyshirt.“What,goddammit?”
Westputshishandsuplikehe’ssurrendering.“Canyoujustbecalmforaminute?”
“WhyshouldIbecalm?Youhavenofaithinme,Weston.None.Icantakecareofmyselfandyou

shouldwantmetotakecareofmyself.Youshouldsay,‘Hey,Tori,you’rejustasgoodasme,sotake
yourbestshotandbestofluck.We’llseewhogetthecontractintheend.’”

“That’swhatyouwantmetosay?”heasks.
“Yes.Somethinglikethat.Somethingupliftingandpositive.”
“Here’ssomethingpositiveforyou.HowaboutIjustgiveyouthemoneyyouneed,youletmeget

thecontract,andthenI’llfuckingkillLucioGoriandwe’llalllivehappilyeverafter?”

“What?”Hedidnotjustsaythat.“Whatthehellareyoutalkingabout?You’renotdoinganything

toLucioGori,letalonekillinghim.”

“Herapedyou.DoyoureallythinkI’mjustgonnaletthatassholegetawaywiththat?Youare

fuckingoutofyourmind.”

“Ididn’ttellyouthatstorysoyoucouldgoavengeme,Weston.Itoldyouinconfidence.”
“Well,youshouldknowmebetter.”
Iamsoangry,myheadmightsplitrightdownthemiddle.“Youplannedthatlittlehearttoheart

conversation,didn’tyou?”

“Don’tberidiculous.Ididn’tplananything.Youtoldmebecauseyouwantedmetodosomething

aboutit.”

He’sserious.Hereallythinksmyconfessionwascodefor,Gokillhimforme.“Itoldyoubecause

youconfessedsomethingpersonalaboutyourchildhood.Ithoughtweweretryingtoearneach
other ’strust.”Istareathimforasecond.“That’snotwhyyoutoldme,wasit?”

“Tori,whydoyouhavetobeso—”
Ipunchhimintheface.Hisheadsnapstothesideandalittletrickleofbloodrunsoffhischeek.He

turnsbacktomeandsmiles.

Ipunchhimagain.
Helaughs.“I’mgonnahate-fuckyou,VictoriaArias.Ifyouhitmeonemoretime,I’mgonna

throwyoudownonthesandand—”

Imoveonhim.Mylegsweepsbehindhisankle,IgrabhisshirtandthrusthimsidewaysasItwist

myhip.Helandsonthehardsand,stilllaughing.

Istandoverhim,seething.
“Ihateyou,Mr.Corporate.Howaboutthat?Ifuckinghateyourightnow.”
“Hey.”Hesmiles.“LikeIsaid,hatefuck’sa-coming.I’llplayalong,howaboutthat?Ihateyoutoo,

MissArias.Andjusttokeepthingsgoing,I’llgoonestepfurther.Ihateyoumore.”

Istandoverhim,readyto…to…Iwanttoscream!“No,youcannothatememore.Ihateyoumore

andIwantyoutoadmitit,rightfuckingnow.”

ChapterThirty-Weston

“Sayit.”VictoriaAriasloomsoverme,herfeetplantedoneithersideofmyhips,seething.“Iwant

tohearyousayit.”

Shelookslikethestormthatjustpassed.Thatpoorlavendershirtisripplingintheremnantsofthe

wind.It’sruined.Andoutofnowhere,likeGodwasplayingatrickonusearlier,itstartstorain.
Hard,pouring-downrain.

“What’syourfuckingproblem?”Iask.“Justwhatthefuck,Tori?”
Shedrops,herasssittingonmydick,butnothingaboutthismomentsaysseductive.Sheslapsme

sixtimesintheface.Bothhands,oneaftertheother.Sixtimes.Bam,bam,bam,bam,bam,bam.

“Sayit!”Sheyellsitthistime.
ItastebloodinmymouthandreachuptowipeitawayasIlookherintheeyes.
Thosebeautifulvioleteyes.Thatwilddarkhairisstickingtoherfaceassherages.Andherbreasts

arepracticallyburstingoutofhershirt—thoselasttwobuttonshavenohopeofcontainingthem.

Anotherslap,andthistimeitstings.
“Stopit,”Isay,grabbingbothherwristsandpullingherdownontomychest.“Justfuckingstop

it.”

“Ihateyoumore,WestonConrad.”Hervoiceislow.Even.Controlled.“Ihateyoumorethanyou

willeverknowandIwanttohearyousayit.”

“WhyshouldIgiveintoyou?WhythefuckshouldI?Doyoureallythinkthisbadassattitudeyou

haveiscute,MissArias?Well,itisn’t.It’sfuckingold,OK?I’msickofit.I’msickofyou.AndI’m
notgivingyouwhatyouwant.Ever.”

Ipushheroffmeandgetup.I’mwet,I’mcoveredinsand,I’mhungry,I’mthirsty,andmydickhas

beenhardforthreedays.

“You’reacoward,”Victoriasays,herSouthAmericanaccentappearing.“You’reacowardanda

cheat.”

“Thatmakesnosense.AndI’mnotacheat.You’rethefuckingcheat.Howthehelldidyougethere,

huh,Victoria?Youcheated!”

She’sonherkneesnow,thatgoddamnedlavendershirtblowingopen.“Well,justgivemewhatI

want,WestonConrad.Andthenwecanpartwaysandneverseeeachotheragain.”

“I’mnotgivingyouthiscontract.Fuckthat.Iearnedit.You’retheonewhotriedtostealitfrom

me.”

“Idon’tjustwantthecontract,youidiot.Ineverwantedthecontract.Iwantedyou.”
Ijustblinkather.“What?”
“Did,”sheclarifies.“Idon’twantyouanymore.Iwouldn’twantyouifyouwerethelastmanon

Earth!”

“Oradesertedisland?”Isay,laughing.
Shethrowsahandfulofsandatme,butthewindcatchesitanditgoesinhereyes.Herhandsflyup

toherfaceasshedoublesoverinpain.

Fuck.
“Victoria,”Isay,droppingdowntoseeifshe’sOK.
She’snot.She’scrying.

hours.Idon’tfuckingknowwhatyouwant!”

Shedropsherhandsandlooksmeintheface.“Ihateyoumore,WestonConrad.Ihateyoumore

thanyouhateme.AndIwanttohearyouadmitit.”

“Fine.”Ishrug.“Whatever.Youhatememore.WhatthefuckdoIcare?”
“Whatthefuckdoyoucare?”Hermakeupwaswashedoffintheraindaysago.There’snoleftover

mascaratostainherperfectcheekbones.Andherlipsarenaturallypinkandplump.Ican’tstop
lookingatthem.

Her.
Ican’tstoplookingather.
“Whyareyoudoingthis?”Iask.
“Iwantthatcontract.”
“No.Itoldyouno.HowmanytimesdoIhavetoexplainthistoyou?Itwasmycontracttobegin

with.Youfuckingcheated!”

“Notanymore,”shesays,tippingherheaduptoregainsomeofherdignity.Andeventhoughmost

I’mjustabouttoopenmymouthandtellheroffwhenithitsme.She’sbeenmadatmethiswhole

time.Notbecausewebrokeup.Notbecausewecouldn’tmakethelong-distancerelationshipwork.
ButbecauseshethinksIleftherbehind.

behindherlikeabannerthatdaresmetofollowherintowar.

Iwanttofollowher.Iwanttothinksoanyway.IwanttobelievethatIcanfightherbattles,andtake

noprisoners,andcomeoutontheotherendawinner.

ButIdon’tbelieveit.
Becauseshedoesn’tneedanyonetofightherbattles.She’smadethatperfectlyclear.
AndIdon’tbelieveIcouldmatchherpassionandcommitmentanyway.Idon’tbelieveIcouldkeep

upwithher,tobehonest.Orholdontoher,orevenmakehertheslightestbithappy.Idon’tbelieveI
candoanythingrightwhenitcomestoVictoriaArias.

hurricaneofnothing-will-ever-come-of-this.

Ever.
“Here!”Toriscreams.Hervoicecracks,that’showloudheryellis.Butthere’snowayinhellthey

canhearher.SoIgettomyfeetandjogafterher.Herarmsareflailingintheairasshetriestoget
theirattention.

“Tori,”Iyelloverhernoise,andthewind,andtherain.“Theycan’thearyou.Juststop!”
Shedoesstop.Like…immediately.
It’safuckingmiracle.I’mjustabouttoaskherwhat’supwhenshepointstotheislandbehindme.

“Doyouthinkthathelicopterisunusuallylargeforarescuemission?”

“What?”Iwhirlaroundandlookoveratourisland.“Whatthefuckaretheydoing?”
“Whatisthathangingdown?Dotheyhavecargoorsomething?Aretheynothereforus,

Weston?”

“Jesus.Maybenot.Butwhataretheylowering?”
“Men,”Torisays.“I’mcountingthemastheylowerdown.That’stwentysofar.”
Twentyguys?Torescuetwopeoplefromanisland?Shecountstherestoftheguysandstopsat

twenty-eight.

“Twenty-eightmen.Dotheylooklikesoldierstoyou,West?”
Ithinkit’sfunnyshe’ssuddenlysocalm.Andifshehadneversaidtheword‘soldier ’Imighttakea

momenttoenjoyherstillness.

Butyeah.“Soldiers,”Isay,repeatingherword.
“Doyouhearthatpoppingnoise?Isthatshooting?Whyisthehelicopterhovering,Weston?Do

theyalwayshavetwoofthosepropellerthingsonahelicopter?”

Everythingaboutthisissuddenlywrong.
“Ithinkweshouldgobacktothehouse,Tori.Idon’tthinkthey’rehereforus.”Iwanttosay,I

don’tthinkthey’reheretosaveus.ButIkeepthatpartquiet.“Ithinkweshouldjustgobacktothe
houseandwaitforMysterioustofigureshitoutandshowup.Ifthey’relookingforustheywon’t
knowwe’rehere.Andifthey’renot,theywon’tseeusoutonthebeachwhentheygotoleave.”

“Look,they’rerunningbacktothehelicopter.”
“Shit.Webettergo.Theywon’tcomehere.We’refine.”
“Um,Weston.DoyoupromisenottogetmadatmeifItellyousomethingrightnow?”
Mystomachsinks.“What?”
“Youhavetopromise.”Shelooksupatmeandsmilesthatsmilewhenshewantssomethingfrom

meandI’mnotgivingin.

There’satimeandaplaceforthat.Thisisnoteitherofthosethings.“Ipromise.Nowwhat?”
“Theywillcomeherelookingforus.BecauseIleftanote.”

ChapterThirty-One-Victoria

Iexpecthimtoyell.Iexpecthimtoscream,andtellmeI’maselfish,stubbornwomanwhothinks

she’salwaysright.IexpectallthethingsI’vegottenfromhiminthepast.

Buthedoesn’tdoanyofthat.Hedoesn’tevenfrown.
Hetakesmyhandanddragsmethroughthetrees,pullingmealongwithhim,sohardIthinkmy

shoulderwillcomeoutofthesocket.

“West,”Isay,tryingmybesttokeepup.“Slowdown!”Thebranchesandleavesaredrenchedwith

rain,whichhasstoppedjustassuddenlyasitstarted.Buttheyslapmeinthefaceandwatergetsinmy
eyessoIhavetoclosethemandhopeIdon’tfallasWestcontinuestofreakoutanddragmealong.

Hesaysnothinguntilwegettotheboathouseonthelagoon.Thenhestopsandlooksmeintheeye

asheplacesbothofhishandsonmyshouldersandsqueezes.“Victoria.Ineedyoutolistentome.
OK?”

Inod.
“You’regoingtostayhere.You’regoingtohideinthetreesuntilIcomeback.Andifanyofthose

menfromthatislandcomewhileI’mgone,you’regoingtoruninthatdirectionasfastasyoucan.”

Hepointsofftotheleftandmygazefollows.
“There’snobeachonthatsideoftheisland.OK?There’snobeachsoitwon’tbeeasyforthemto

findyou.Soyoumakeyourwaythroughthebrush,asfastasyousafelycan,andthenwaituntilIcall
foryoubeforecomingout.Doyouunderstand?”

“Whereareyougoing?”Iask,suddenlyveryfrightened.
“I’mgoingbacktothehousetocloseupthesafe.Maybethey’llthinkwe’reinthereanditwill

giveusenoughtimetofindagoodhidingplace.”

Webothlookupaswehearthesoundofanapproachinghelicopter.
“DowhatIsay,Tori.Imeanit.Thesepeoplearenotfuckingaroundandtheyarehereforus.”
“Why,though?Whyaretheyafterus?”
“Wecanthinkaboutthatlater.Rightnow,wejustneedtohide.Don’tcomelookingforme.I’llfind

you.Nowrun.Wedon’thavemuchtimeandI’mnotgoinguntilIseeyourun.”

“West—”
“Run,Tori.I’mdeadfuckingserious.Anddon’tstopuntilyoucanseetheocean.”
Iwanttokisshimorhughim.OrsayI’msorryIdidn’ttrusthimandleftthatnoteandnowhehas

tocleanupmymistake.

ButIdon’t.Ifigurethebestwaytoshowhimallthatistofollowhisdirections.
SoItakeoffintothetrees.Thereisnopath.Justunderbrushandtreetrunksandbugs.Ihaveno

shoeson,somyfeetarebleedingalmostimmediatelyasIsteponrocks,andsticks,andallthetiny
disgustingthingsthatliveonthisisland.

Ittakesmeminutestobebraveenoughtolookbehindme.Ididn’tgetthatfar.Icanstillseethered

roofoftheboathousethroughabreakintheleaves.

Thehelicopterislouder.SoloudIhavetoclampmyhandsovermyears.It’scirclingtheisland

above.IstopwhenIgettoasmallclearingwithatalltowerinthemiddle,afraidtomoveforfearof
beingseenfromtheair.

SoIhideunderthetreecoverandwatchit.Whatevercargoit’scarryingishangingbyropesor

chains.It’snothingbutabox.

What’sinthatbox?
Icrawlonmyhandsandkneestothetower,thenclimbupasfastasIcan.It’sonlyaboutthirtyfeet

high,butthat’shigherthanthetallesttrees,soIhaveagoodview.

Themenarebeingdroppeddownbyaline,oneafteranother.Theremustbenogoodplacetoland

here.“Please,letWestalreadybeleavingthehouse.Please,please,please.”Ichantitover,andover,
andover.

Menareyellingontheothersideoftheisland.Shouting,thenshooting.
Holyfuckingshit.
“Please,please,please,”Isay,climbingbackdownthetower.It’smymantraandIchantitasIrun.

There’sasmalltrail,butIdon’ttakeit.Whatiftheyfanoutandstartlookingdownallthetrails?

Ikeeptothebrush,tryingtoputsomedistancebetweenmeandtheshouting.
AbranchcatchesmyshirtanditripsasIkeepgoing.Redlinesappearonmyarmsandlegsasthe

thinbranchesofyoungtreesslapagainstmybody.

Thehelicoptercirclesoverheadagain.Liketheyaresearchingforsomeone.
Me?
OrWest?
Idon’tknow,Ijustcowerinthebrushandhideunderlongfernfronds.Whenitmovesonto

anotherspot,Icontinuemyrun.AfewminuteslaterIcanheartheocean,thenseeit.AndI’verunout
ofroom.

ThisiswhereI’llhavetostay.
ThisiswhereI’llhavetohide.

ChapterThirty-Two-Weston

IloseprecioussecondslookingforthegunsIdon’thaveonme.Ididn’texpectToritowalkoff.I

should’vefuckingputthemsomewhereclosethemomentIwokeup.

ButIdidn’t.
ItotallyfuckedupandnowIneedthemandIdon’thavethem.Andthesefuckersareheretokillus.

Ijustknowit.

Idon’twanttothinkofthehoworthewhy.Idon’twanttothinkofthenumberonesuspectonmy

veryshortlistwhomight’vesoldmeout.Idon’twanttothinkofTori,outthereinthetrees,running
forherlife.

Ijustneedtogetthoseguns.
LastnightIwokeupandstaredoutthewindow,planningwhatwemightneedtodotoday.Noneof

thoseplansincludedaChinookhelicopterfilledwithmercenaries.

That’swhattheyare.Iknowit.They’renotsoldiers.Thisismostdefinitelyaprivateoperation.
ThesoundofthehelicopterbecomesdeafeningandIknowtheyarehoveringoverthehouse.The

gunsareatthebottomofthedrybag,andthebagis…whereisit?WherethefuckdidIputit?Ileftit
—

There.Igrabitoffthekitchencounterandrunforthestairs.Ipracticallyleapdownthem,fiveata

time,andrushtowardsthesafe,slammingitclosedandarmingthelock.I’mjustabouttoleavewhen
Iseethesilverenvelope,slideonthesmoothfloorasIpickitupandstuffitintothebag,andthen,
justwhenIthinkI’llgetoutofhereintime…

Theykickthefrontdooropenupstairs.
Mybodyfreezesbutmymindisfilledwiththoughts.
Therehastobeawayoutofthebasement.Think,Corporate.
It’snotmyvoiceinmyhead,it’sPaxtonVance’s.Mr.Mysteriouswouldnothaveabasementwith

noexit.He’sfartooparanoidforthat.AndIknow—Ijustknow—thisishishouse.

Ihavetwenty,maybethirty,secondsbeforetheycomedownhere.
Think!
Whythefuckdidn’tweexplorethiswholehouseyesterday?
Oh,Iknowwhy.IwastoobusytryingtofuckTori.Meandmygoddamnedcockaregonnagetus

killedoverthatmistake.

Think!
Idon’tseeanywindows,sothatmeansithastobeadoor.IopenthefirstoneIsee.Bathroom.Next

isacloset,thenabedroom.Thelastoneistheutilityroomthathousesthegenerator.It’shumming
along.Well,nothumming,exactly—thatfuckerisloud.Andweneverheardit.Whichmeansthese
wallsaresoundproof.

Iclosethedoorandfliponthelights.Anotherdoor,ontheothersideofthegenerator,haslight

leakingthroughthebottom.Iglanceatthemachinery,findwhatI’mlookingfor,andfliptheswitch.

Thepowergoesoutandmywholeworldgoessilentanddark.
Getoutnow,Corporate.
Ifeelmywayalongthewalltowardsthatsliverofsavinggracelightnearthefloor.
Aretheyoutthere?Theyhaveenoughguystosurroundthehouse.Ipressmyearagainstthecool

metalandlisten.

Nothing.
Iplacemyhandonthedoorhandle,push.Nothing.Pull.Nothing.Fuckinglocked.Ifeelalongthe

doorforthelock,flipit,thentryagain.

Justacrack.
Thehelicopterissuddenlythere,rightontopofme,thatboxofcargoswingingintheairasit

circlesthehouse.Itlowers,hovers,andthenIhearamanshoutinginstructions.

AmanwhosevoiceIrecognize.

ChapterThirty-Three-Victoria

Theshooting.Theyareshooting.Moreandmoreandmoreshooting.
He’sdead,Tori.Andyoukilledhim.He’sdeadandyou’restuckherewithouthim.Andyou’regoing

todietoo.

No.
Istandupinthebrush.
No.
Istartmakingmywayback.Fuckthat.Theyarenotgettinghim.Iwillnotlivetherestofmylife

knowingthathediedtosavemeandIdidnothingtohelp.EvenifIhavetokillthemwithmybare
handsforrevengeonly,I’mgoingback.

Igetaboutfiftyfeetwhenthere’saloudboom!
InstantaneouslyI’montheground,myfacepressedintothewetgrassanddirt.
Whatthehellwasthat?
Igetupandstartrunningagain,notstoppinguntilIreachthatlittleclearingonthehill.Iclimbthe

towerasfastasIcan,prayingthatthesepeoplearetoobusytobelooking.Toobusywiththeir
missiontonoticeme.

AndwhenIgethalfwayup,Iclingtothemetalrungs,unabletobelievewhatI’mseeing.
Atallpillarofsmokeacouplemilesaway.
Theyblewupthehouseontheotherisland.
That’swhatwasinthatbox.
Explosives.
Holyshit.Whatthefuckishappening?
Iclimbdownandstartrunningagain.TheshoutingisloudandIcanhearonevoiceinparticular

givingorders.

Whydoesitsoundfamiliar?
Whocares,Victoria?Justdosomething!
Islowdownwhenthatcommandingvoicegetscloser.“He’sdead,”heyells.“Let’sgetthefuckout

ofherebeforethewholethingexplodes!”

No.No,no,no.
Istandupandrushtowardsthevoice,makingsomuchnoiseintheunderbrush,Icannotbelievehe

can’thearmewhenhecomesintoview.

Everyoneelseisrunningaway,backtowardsthehoveringhelicopter.Theyareliftedup,oneata

time,andstillthatonelonemanwaits,thebackofhisheadswivelingfromsidetoside,likehe’sthe
lookout.

Whenheturnshisbodyinmydirection,Iduckandpraythathedidn’tseeme.
“Vance!”someoneyells.“Vance,wegottago!Weonlyhaveoneminute!”
Idon’twanttothinkofwhatwillhappeninoneminute,butIknow.Theyareblowingupthishouse

too.

Thisguy’snameisVance.PaxtonVance.
Hesetusup.
“Iseeyou,”hesays,theunderbrushcrunchingunderhisbootsashedrawscloser.“Andyou’re

goingtodoexactlyasIsayifyouwanttostayalive,VictoriaArias.”

Istandupandshakemyhead.“I’mgoingtokillyou,Mr.Mysterious.I’mgoingtokillyouandget

youbackforwhatyoudid.”

“Vance!”theguysyellagain.“Vance!”
“No,”hesayscalmlyasheextendshishand.“You’regoingtocomewithmeanddoasyou’retold.

Becauseinthirtyseconds,thathouseisgonnaexplode.”

“Vance!”Hisfriendsarefranticnow.
“Stop,Tori!”Westonyells.
There’sshootinginresponse.NotfromVance,whoisstandingstillwhenWeston’sbullethitshim

inthecenterofhischest.Butfromtheotherguys.

“Drop!”Westyells.“Drop!”
Idoitoninstinct.Myfacehitsthegroundagainasbulletsflypastovermyhead.
Hewasalive.
Hewasalive.
Andnowhe’sstandinginthemiddleofarainstormofbullets.
Theshootingstopsandthehelicopterwhines,circlingoverthetopofme,butthetreesaretoo

thickforthemtoaim.

Andjustasquickasallthisstarted,itends.
Thehelicoptertilts,andfliesoff.
Iwaitforthesilencebutitnevercomes.
Becausethat’swhenthehouseexplodesinafireball.
IstaywhereI’matforminutes,atleast.
“MissArias?”
Thatmotherfuckerisnotstillalive.
“MissArias?Areyouhurt?”
Whatishappening?
“Answerme,goddammit.”
“Tori,”Westcalls.“Tori!Wherethefuckisshe,dude?”
Istandup,unabletobelieveit.Buthe’sthere.Westisthere,standingnexttohisfriend,whohasa

bulletholeinhischest.

“Whatthefuckisgoingon?”Iscream.
IrunuptoPaxtonVanceandpunchhimintheface.Hegrabsholdofmebymyarms,butWestis

there,tacklinghimtotheground.

Ifallwiththem,andthethreeofusstruggle.
IgrabVance’srifleandpull,buthejerksback.“Tellher,asshole.Tellherbeforeshegetsusall

killed!”Vanceyells.

“He’sonourside,Tori.Justcalmdown!He’sonourside!”
Istopstrugglingandjustliethere,panting.“Whatishappening?Whatthefuckjusthappened?”
“It’sOK,”Westsays,pullingmeupofftheground.Vancegetsup,pullingthebarrelofhisrifleout

ofmygripasIstand.

“I’mthefuckingcavalry,Arias.Soquityourbullshitandgivemeafuckingminutetoexplain.”

ChapterThirty-Four-Weston

“Thishadbetterbegood,”Torigrowls.
“Wedon’thavetimeforthat,”Paxsays,onefingerprobingtheholeIleftinhisarmoredvest.

“Ourrideisattheboathouserightnow.Weneedtogobeforethoseassholesstartfeelingguiltyfor
leavingmebehindandcomeback.”

Ican’targuewiththat.BecauseIcan’tanswerherquestion.
Ihavenoideawhat’shappening.AllIknowisthatwehavenochoiceshere.Weeitherstayonthe

islandandhopeforsomekindofrealrescuewhenpeopleshowuptoinvestigatetheexplosions,or
wegowithMysterious.

“Comeon,Tori.Wecantalkaboutitoncewe’resafe.”
Iexpectafight.Imean,whatarethechancesthatVictoriaAriaswillevergoquietly?
Butshesaysnothing.
Paxstartsheadinginthedirectionoftheboathouseandshesimplyfallsinlinebehindhim.Itake

uptherear,andcan’thelpbutbepissedoffthathershirtisrippedopenandPaxgotagoodviewof
hertitsjustnow.

WewalkthehalfamilebacktothelagooninsilenceandeventhoughI’mnotexpectinganyoneto

bethere,thereissomeonethere.AguyI’dliketopunchinthefaceformany,manyreasons.

Vladthepilotisgrinninglikeanassholeaswewalkuptotheboat.
“Icountthreeliving,breathingbodies,”hesays.“Solookslikethisonewentoffwithoutahitch.”
“Don’tcountthelivingjustyet,Five.We’renotevenclosetobeingdonehere.”
Five.Iknewthatguylookedfamiliar.
Fivewasourfixerbackwhenwewerechargedwithrape.FivewastheguyMatchcalledtoswoop

inandtelluswhattodo.

“Whatthefuckisgoingon?”Iask,lookingstraightatMysterious.
“Justgetintheboat,man.I’llexplainalongtheway.”
“Nicetoseeyouagain,Vlad,”Torisnarlsasshemovesforward.ButIgrabherhandandturnher

aroundtofaceme.

“AreyouOK?”Iask,takingoffmyshirtandholdingitopenforher,soshecanslipiton.
Shesighsandlooksdown,likethetoughgirljustflewoutofherwiththatexhale.
Ibuttontheshirtupsoshe’scoveredagain.“Areyouhurt?”Iask.
Sheshakesherheadandlooksuptomeetmygaze.“No.ButI’mscaredtofuckingdeathright

now.”

IpullhercloseandwrapmyarmsallthewayaroundherbodysoIcanholdhertight.“We’llbeall

right.We’llfigureitout.OK?”

AndeventhoughittookahitsquadandtwoexplosionstogetwhatI’vealwayswanted,I’mhappy

anyway.

Becauseshelooksupatmeandsays,“Iknow.Itrustyou.Justgetmeoutofhere.”
Paxwaveshishandtowardstheboat.“Getin,youguys.We’vegotaplanewaitingforusbackin

theUS.Sowe’regonnagothere,geton,dumptheboat,andgotoSanDiegobyair.”

“WhySanDiego?”ToriasksasIhelpherintotheboat.
Paxlooksatmeandsays,“Igotaplaceandweneedtosticktogetheruntilwesortallthisout.”

Istareathim,notquitesurewhattomakeofallthis.OK,sohe’sadmittinghe’sbehindsomeof

this.Buthowmuch?Howmuchishim?Andwhoelseisinvolved?

“Yougotaproblem,Corporate?”Paxasks.
IlookoveratFive—he’stellingToritogodownbelow—thenlookbackatPax.“Where’s

Oliver?”

“He’swaitinginSanDiego.We’remeetingupwithhim.”
“AndNolan?Mac?Aretheycomingtoo?”
“No,”Paxsays.“Notyet.”
“Whatdoyoumean,notyet?Whythefucknot?IfthisisconnectedtoNolan’sbullshit,heneedsto

beinonit.”

“Maybeitis.Maybeit’snot.”
“What’sthatmean?”
“Didyoutellher?”Paxnodshisheadinthedirectionoftheboat.
“Tellheraboutwhat?”
“Whoyoureallyare?”
Istudyhimforamoment.Myjawisclenching.“Itoldher.”
“Youdid,huh?”Paxsays,laughingalittle.“Youtoldhereverything?”
“Defineeverything.”
“BecauseIknoweverything,asshole.Sodidyouordidn’tyoutellhereverything?”
“Youdon’tknowshit.Andwhateveritisyouthinkyouknow,you’rewrong.Sogetthefuckoutof

mybusinessandbackoff.”

“Sosheknowswhoyourrealfatheris?”
IsquintmyeyesatMysterious.
Hesquintsback.
“Whatthefuckareyoudoing,Pax?Didyousetmeup?Didyousetallthisup?Wasthatwhole

thingwithWallacealie?”

“We’lltalkaboutitinSanDiego.”
“No,we’lltalkaboutit—”
“Notnow,Corporate,”hesays,cuttingmeoff.“Unlessyouwantmetogodowninthatboatand

tellyourgirlfriendallthethingsyou’vebeenleavingoutofyourlife’sstory.”

Iamsopissedoffrightnow.
“Get.In.Theboat.”
“We’renotdone,”Isay,bumpinghisshoulderasIgopast.
“Notevenclose,”hesays,followingme.
ItakeaseatnexttoTori,whoishuddleduponanl-shapedsectionalwithasleekteakmarinetable

infrontofher.ShelooksatmewhenIenterandtakesadeepbreath.

“Youallright?”Iask,takingaseatnexttoherasshescootsovertomakeroomforme.We

suddenlyfeellikeateamnow.Usversusthem.

“Yeah,”shesays,wrappingherhandsaroundmybicepandleaningintome.“Areyou?Ithought

theykilledyou.”

“I’mfine,”Isay,leaningdowntokissherhead.I’mnotgoingtoworryaboutwhatMysterious

thinksheknowsaboutmypast.Therearealotofmovingpartsthere.BesttolethimspillbeforeI
comeoutswingingwithadefense.“Iwentinthehouse,closedthesafe.Butbythattime,thoseguys
werealreadythere.IfoundabackdoorandranrightintoPax,whosorta…”Ilookoverathimashe
talkswithFiveaboutwhatever.“Hesortahadaplan.Imean,hewasexpectingustobeinthatsafe
room.Andwhenweweren’t,hewentoutsidelooking,foundmebythebackdoor.Wehadtoplayit
righttothelastsecondsohisteamwouldleavehimbehind.”

“Whoishisteam?”
“Idon’tknowyet.Iguesswe’llfindoutwhenwegettoSanDiego.”
Shesighs.“Idon’twanttogotoSanDiego,West.Ijustwanttogohome.I’mhungry,I’mtired,

andIneedashower.Ijustwanttogohome.”

“Youcan’tgohome,MissArias.”
Torilooksup.Paxtonisstandingintheentrywaythatleadstothecontrolroom.“Whynot?Whatis

goingon?”

“I’lltellyouthesamethingItoldCorporate.Idon’tknowyet.Butwhetheryoulikeitornot,you

andthisassholearethereasonthisishappening.Ican’t,ingoodconscience,cutyouloosejustyet.”

“Cutus—”Toristarts.
ButIholdupmyhand.“We’lljustwait,Tori.OK?We’refine.Whateverishappening,”Isay,

throwingalookatPax,“we’llfigureitoutandbehomeinafewdays.”

“Maybe,”Paxsays.“Maybenot.Iwouldn’tpromiseheranythingyou’renotsureyoucandeliver,

Weston.Andwe’vegotalotofcome-to-Jesusmomentsahead.Forbothofyou.Soifyou’retired,
MissArias,Isuggestyouclaimoneofthecabinsandgetsettled.We’resailingtoWestPalmBeach
first,thenwe’llgetonthejetandlandinSanDiego.Soyou’vegotplentyoftimetorestup.”

Paxturnshisbacktousandgoesbackintothecontrolroom,likethisconversationisover.
“Well,he’sanasshole,”Torisays.
Ismile.“See,I’mnotsobad.”
Herbodyshakeswithasmalllaugh.“I’dliketotakeashower.Dotheyhaveshowersonthese

things?”

“I’msuretheydo.Comeon,let’sgocheckitoutandclaimacabin.”
Iwaitforhertofight.I’mnotsleepingwithyou,Mr.Corporate.Or,Don’tordermearound,you

controllingpig.

Butshedoesn’tevenputupasmallfightwhenItakeherhand,andstandup,andleadherpastthe

galleyanddownthestairstothecabins.Icheckthefirstdoor—occupied.Thenthesecond—also
occupied.Weturnaroundandtrythestarboardside,openthenextdoorandfinditempty.“Iguess
we’lltakethisone,huh?”

“Idon’tcare.DoyouthinktheyhaveanyclothesIcanwear?”Torilooksupatme.Everythingthat

hashappenedinthelastfewdayshasfinallycaughtupwithherinthismoment.Shelooksexhausted.
Hereyesareringedwithdarkcircles,herarmsandlegshaveredweltsandscratchesfromrunning
throughtheunderbrush,andshe’sgotacutonhercheekthatlookspainful.

“I’msureIcanfindsomething.Look,”Isay.“Ibetthiscabinhasitsownensuite.”Iletgoofher

handandwalkintothecabin,whichisspacious.Thesalonwaswell-equippedwithaTV,abar,and
ampleseatingforatleasttwelvepeople.Thecabinhasaking-sizedbedwithluxurybeddingandsix
pillows.There’stwodoors—thefirstone,IdiscoverwhenIopenitup,isacloset.“Look,clothes.”

Toriwalksuptome.“Sotheyplannedthiswholething?”Shelooksupatme,frowning.“They

haveclothesforme,West.Whatthehellisgoingon?”

“I’mnotsureyet.Just…let’s…wejusthavetotrusthim,OK?Idon’thaveagoodreason,I’ll

admitit.I’msuspicioustoo.Butwe’restuckhereuntilwegettoPalmBeach.I’msurethejethe’s
talkingaboutistheoneweshare.SoI’llhavemoreoptionsoncewegettotheUS.Butfornow,let’s
justrestandkeepourheadsdown.OK?”

I’mexpectingafight.Someprotestsatleast.ButTorijusthuncheshershouldersandnodsher

head.“Isthatonethebathroom?”Shepointstotheotherdoor.

Iwalkovertoitandpullthedooropen.“Yup.Andlook,it’sgotatub.Whydon’tyoutakeabath

andjustgotosleep?”

“Whereareyougoingtobe?”

“Feelingneedy,MissArias?”Igiveherthatcrookedsmileshelovessomuch.
Andshecracksasmalloneinreturn,butit’sbrief.“Alittlebit.Butyoucan’tgotoofar,soI’llbe

OK.”

“GotakeabathandI’llbeinafterIgrabsomethingtowearfromPax.OK?”Ikisshertenderlyon

thelipsandpullherintoahug.“We’refine,Tori.Justfine.”

Shenodsandturnstothebathroom,closingthedoorbehindher.
IheadbackuptothecontrolroomandfindFiveandPaxsittingatthebargettingdrinks.
“Youwantone,Corporate?”Fiveasks.
“Sure,Vlad.”
Heshrugs.“Hey,man,it’snotmyfaultyoufellforit.Thisisjustbusiness.”
“Right.”ItaketheshotoftequilaPaxslidesacrossthesleekteakbar,anddownit.“Fuck,yeah,”I

say,slammingtheshotglassdown.“Ineededthat.WefoundtheclothesforVictoriainonecloset.But
therewasn’tanythingforme.Youguysgotsomethingtospareforme?”

“Yourstuffisintheothercabin,Corporate,”Paxsays.
“Stopcallingmethat,asshole.It’safuckinginsultandyouknowit.Idon’tcallyouMysterious

unlessI’mpissedoffaboutsomething.”

“MaybeI’mpissedoffaboutsomething.Youeverthinkofthat?”
“Whatthefuckdoyouhavetobepissedabout?You’retheonewhosetusup.You’rethereason

we’rehereinthefirstplace.”

“Tryagain,Corporate.”Paxdoesashotandslamshisglassdownonthetabletoo.
IlookoveratFive,whosimplyshrugsandsays,“I’mthehiredhelp,sodon’taskme.”
“Frankly,”Paxsays,“I’msurprisedshe’sevenconsideringroomingwithyoutonight.Youmight

wanttodouble-checkyoursleepingarrangements.”

“Thanks,Mysterious.ButIhighlydoubtIneedrelationshipadvicefromyou.”
Heshrugs.“Youknowshe’sgonnafindout.”
Isaynothing.
“Yougottaknowthat.Sothesooneryoucomeclean,theeasierit’sgonnago,myfriend.Because

ifyoudon’ttellherwhoyoureallyare…Iwill.”

MyeyesnarrowintoslitsasIconsiderhisthreat.
“Andbytheway,I’mgonnagoaheadandcallourdebtevensinceyougotbothofmyfucking

islandsblownupouttheretoday.Infact,fromthewayIseeit,Ithinkyouowemerightaboutnow,
Corporate.Solet’smakeadeal.”

ChapterThirty-Five-Victoria

Thetubissmallandround.Notoval,liketheynormallyaresopeoplecanstretchoutandrelax.It’s

big,don’tgetmewrong.Butit’sround.Howdoesapersonrelaxinaroundtub?Obviouslywhoever
designedthisshipdidn’taskawoman’sopinion.

SoIoptforashower.Andthewateriswonderfullyhotandsoothing.Thesteamrelaxesmy

musclesandIrelishinthisnewcalmwehavesettledin.

Iknowthere’smoretothestorythananyoneistellingmeatthispoint,butIcan’taffordtomakea

bigdealaboutit.ThelastthingIneedisthatscaryMr.MysteriousaskingmehowIgotinvolvedinall
this.

Ifrown.
It’sgonnacomeout.There’snowayI’mnotgonnagetaskedthatquestion.
I’mjustrinsingtheconditioneroutofmyhairwhenthebathroomdooropensandWestwalksin.

He’salreadynakedandhesaysnothingashestepsintotheshowerwithmeandletsthewaterpound
downontopofhishead.

Igrabthesoapandstartwashinghischest,whichmakeshimopenhiseyesandsmile.“I’mOK,”

hesays.

“Iknowyouare,”Isayback.“Justtryingtomakeiteasier.”
Hesmilesbiggeratthatandstartsshampooinghishair.Irubthesoapupanddownhisarms,

scrubbingawaythedirtandgrime,thenbenddownandgethislegs,startingathisfeetandworking
mywayup.Ilookupathimandhe’sgothisheadtiltedtotheside,withabigquestioninggrinonhis
face.

“Really?”heasks.
“What?”Isayback,blinkingmyeyesinnocently.“I’mjusttryingtohelpyououthereMr.Conrad.

Getyouniceandclean.”

“MissArias.Ifyougetonyourkneesinfrontofmycock,I’mgonnacomeupwithsome

expectations.”

Ilaugh.“Somethinglikethis?”Iask,takinghisdickinmysoapyhandsandlatheringitup.My

motionisslow,waytoofuckingslowforwhathe’sthinkingaboutrightnow.IlookupathimasIdo
it.“OramIreadingyouwronghere?”

“I’lltakethatfirst,”hesays,withachuckle.
I’mrelievedthathe’snotastenseashewaswhenwefirstcameaboard.Iknowsomethingisgoing

onbetweenhimandhisfriends.Maybesomethinghedoesn’twantmetoknow.ButI’mtootiredto
worryaboutthatrightnow.Ijustwantanightofpeace.Justonenightnexttohiminabedwithhis
armsaroundme.

Tomorrowcanwait.Everythingelsecanwait.
Westliftstheshowerheadofftheholderandstartssprayingthesoapoffhisbody.Thewhitefrothy

bubblesrundownhisabs,hiscock,hislegs.

IsmileupathimasIbringthetipofhisheadtomylips,lickinghimasthewatertricklesintomy

mouth.

Heinhalesdeeply,hishandsautomaticallyonthebackofmyhead.AndthenexttimeIlookup,

he’sgothiseyesclosed.

Igobacktowork.Suckinghim,myhandspumpingupanddown,hisskinslickandsmoothfrom

thewater.

“Let’sgetout,”hesays,reachingformyarmandurgingmetostand.“Comeon,let’sgetoutand

finishthisinbed.Ijustneedyounexttomerightnow.”

Istandupandwebothrinsetheleftoversoapoffusrealfast,andthenWestshutsthewateroff.He

reachespastmeforatowelhangingonarackandbeginstodrymeoff.Firstmyhair,rufflingitup.
AndIdon’tevencare.Itwillbeawildtangledmesswhenitdries,butIdon’tcare.

Helikesmewild,right?
Igrabanothertowelanddryhimashecontinueswithme.Irubitdownhisperfectchestandhard

abs,bendingdownagaintodryhislegs.WhenIcomebackup,hebendsdowntodrymineandI
rufflehishairtoo.

“That’ssuper-sexy,”Isay.
“WhydoyouthinkIdidittoyou?”
Wesmile,andImightevenblushalittle.
Howlonghasitbeensincewewerethiscomfortable?
Years.Maybeeventenyears.Itwaslikethisinthebeginning.Everythingwasfunandnew.He

coulddonowronginmyeyesandhenevercomplainedthatIwasn’tlisteningordidn’tunderstand
hispointofview.

Wejust…acceptedeachotherthewaywewere.
Maybethat’sthesecrettoalong-lastingrelationship?Acceptance.
Peoplesaythosevowswhentheygetmarried.Forbetterorworseandallthat.Butdopeoplereally

meanthem?

MaybeI’mjustcynical?
MaybeIshouldbelesscynical?
“Whatareyouthinkingabout?”Westasks.
“You,”Isay.“Us.”
“Thisfucked-upshitIgotyouinto?”
“It’snotyourfault,West.Ifit’sanyone’sfault,it’smine.Forfuckingupyourjob.”
“Nah.Ihaveafeelingthisshitwascomingnomatterwhat.Itoldyouaboutmyfriends,remember?

Somethingishappening,Tori.AndI’mreallynotsurehowit’sgonnaallshakeout.”

“It’sgonnabefine,OK?Iknowit.”
“Youcan’tknowthat.”
“Iknow.ButI’mgonnagowithitanyway.Ican’tdothisanymore,Weston.Ireallycan’t.I’mtired

ofmakingdecisionsandputtingoutfires,andworryingabouteverylittlething.Andmaybethisisthe
absoluteworsttimetomakethischange?MaybethisistheperfecttimetokeepdoingwhatI’mdoing,
consideringwhatwejustwentthrough.ButIdon’tcare.I’mtired.Sojusttakemetobed,Weston
Conrad.Ifeelsafehere.AslongasI’minyourarmstonightIknowwe’regoingtobeOK.I’mjust
gladwe’retogether.”

Westhasaveryseriouslookonhisfacewhenhenodsandputshishandoutformine.
Itakeitandheleadsmeintothecabin,turningoffthelightashepassesaswitchonthewall.
Hepullsbackthecovers,onlypartlyvisibleinthelowlightcomingthroughtheportholes,andI

climbin,relishingthesoftnessofthesheetsandthewarmthofhisbodyashepresseshimselfupto
me.

“We’resafehere,”Isay.“Icanfeelit.”

ChapterThirty-Six-Weston

Arewesafehere?Ordidwejustjumpintoawholeotherpotofproblems?ArePaxandFivehere

tohelpus?Orhelpthemselves?

“Whatareyouthinkingabout?”Toriasksme.
“Nothingbuthowgreatitfeelstobeherewithyou.I’msorryforalltheshitthat’shappened

betweenus,Tori.Really.Iam.IfeellikeImight’vemissedoutonalotofgreatyearswithyoujust
becauseIdidn’ttakethetimetoseeyourpointofview.”

“Ditto,”shesays.
“Orgettoknowyouproperly.”
Sheturnsherbodysoshecanlookmeintheeyes.“I’msorrytoo.”Shesighs.“Ithink…IthinkI

havenoideawhoyoureallyare.”

God.Thissucks.
BecauseIreallywanttotellherthetruth.
Butnotnow.Nottonight.Tomorrow.I’lltellhertomorrow.Or…maybethenextday.Ormaybe

whenallthisisover.Thenwecansitdownandtalkaboutitall.AllthethingsIleftout.Allthethings
thatstillhauntme.Paxthinksheknows,butheknowswhatIalreadytoldTori,nothingmore.

“Areyou…tootired?”
“Huh?”Ianswer,absently.
“West!”Shegiggles.“Areyougoingtomakemebegforit?”
“Oh.”Ilaughtoo.“No.No.”Imovecloser,positionmyselfontopofher.“There’snobegging.”

Oureyeslock.Likewedon’twanttomissamoment.Ikissheronhermouth,hertenderlipsreaching
forme,thetipsofourtonguestouchingandthen…Ijustcan’tgetenough.Everythingthathas
happenedoverthepastfewdaysmeltsawayandleavesnothingbutdesireinitswake.

“Ineedyou,Mr.Conrad,”Torisays,pullingawayjustfarenoughtogetwordsout.“Ifyouwantto

bemyprince,thenfine.BecauseIreallyneedaprince.”

Ijuststareather.Howtodescribethefeelings?HowdoIputintowordsthedepthsofhellI’dwalk

throughjusttogettoher?

Ionlyknowonewayandit’snotsomethingIwanttotalkabouttonight.SoIletthatgo.Idropall

thathateandangerI’vegotforthepersonwho’shurther.AndIjust…behere.

MyfingersweaveintoherhairasItakehermouthoncemore.Ourtouchissoft,andourkissis

long,andthereisnorushtogettootherplaces,orotherparts,ortherelease.

Theworldjustsuddenlybecomesslow.Likeeverymomentwithherlipsagainstmineisayear

we’llspendtogether.I’llmakeeverythingrightandwe’llfindourwaythroughthismaze,this
labyrinthofwildemotions,asateam.

“Sayit,”Imumble.
Hereyeshaveneverleftmine.Theystarestraightatme.Straightintome.
“Sayit,”Icommand.
“Doyouneedtohearit?”
Inod.“Badly,Victoria.”
Shetriesnottosmile,butit’snouse.
“Iwantyou,”shebreathesintomymouth.Hereyesflutter,likeshereallywantstoclosethem.

“Insideme.Please,”shesays.

Butthat’swhatnotI’mlookingfor.
Shespreadsherlegswideforme,herbreathingkickingupanotch.I’mthere,givingherwhatshe

wants.Easingintoher,thewayIhavehundredsoftimesbefore—butacompletelydifferentwaytoo.
Shewrapsherselfaroundme,wrapsmeinsidehergrip,grippingmyshoulderslikesheneeds
somethingtoholdonto.

ThesexisnottheonlyreasonwhyIloveVictoriaArias.
It’snotjustbecauseIloveslippingmyfingersintohersilkyhair,orthewaymytonguelikesto

tracescirclesaroundhernipples.

It’snotjustthefactthatherpussyissweetandmycockfitsinsidejustright.
It’snotjustthewayshearchesherbackinresponse.It’snotjusttheprimalfeelingshebringsout

insideme.Thatfeelingofpurelustandlongingformoreofthis,andthat,andeverythingwe’veever
done.

It’snotjustbecauseshe’sbeautifulontheoutside.Iloveherforthepersonsheisontheinside.

Flawsandimperfections.Fearsandinsecurities.Iloveherforherweaknessandstrength.Herbeauty
andpain.Iloveherbecausethereisnootherpersononthisearthwhocanmakemeachefor
somethingthewayshecan.

I’mafterthatloveinreturn.That’sallI’veeverwantedfromher.
Wemovetogetherlikeourlove-makinghasbeenchoreographed.Likewearedancingourway

throughthelastact,andnooneiswatchingbutus.Andwedon’tcare.Becausewedon’tdoanything
fortheaccolades,weonlydothingsforus.

Theslowbeginstowearoffthewayitdoesandtheworldbeginstocatchup.Toriismoaningand

herhipsarepressingagainstmine,urgingmetotakeherharder.Pushdeeperinsideher.Giveher
more.

SoIrollusoverandlethertakecontrol.Shelaughs,breathlessly,hersmilecontagious.Andshe

beginstomoveherbodyinadifferentway.She’sgrippingthehardmusclesofmybicepslikeshe
needsthemaroundher.Sheneedsmetoholdonandneverletgo.

Ireachup,placemyhandonthebackofherneckandforceherdownontomychest.
“Yes,”shesays,herheartracingagainstmine.Theyracetogether.Likewearebothtryingtoget

acrosssomeimaginaryfinishline.“Yes,”shemoansasIgripherhair,keepingherinplace.Idon’t
wanthertogettoofaraheadofme.ShemighttakeoffandnevercomebackifIletherdothat.SoI
holdherprisonerthere.Inmygrip.Mycockburieddeepinsideherpussy.Mylustoutofcontrol,my
desireoffthecharts,mywant…God,whydoesitfeelthiswaytowantsomeonesomuch?

“West?”shesays.
Fuck.Stopbeingsodamndramatic,Corporate,andfuckyourgirlfriendthewayshewantsyouto.
“West…”shesaysagain.
“Come,”Isay,pumpingharder.Sohardmyballsslapagainstherskin.Ireachdownandplaywith

herasshole.“Come,baby.Ineedtofeelit.Ineedtofeelyourlovesobad.”

Wecometogether,thatfinalrushofadrenalinetheshotIneedtoputmyfearsaside.Putthelast

fewdaysasideandjustgiveintohercompletely.

“Iloveyou,”shesaysafewmomentslaterwhenwearehot,andsweaty,andbreathingsohard,it

feelslikeourheartsmightexplode.Sheplacesmyhandonherbreasttofeelthethumping.Andthen
sheplaceshersovermine.

Weliethere,lookingupattheceilingofasix-million-dollaryacht,asthosefinalthoughtsofthe

dayraceacrossthatfinishline.

VictoriaAriaswalkedintomylifeonmydarkestday.Eventhougheveryonethinksthedarkestday

cametwodayslaterwiththoserapecharges,thatwasnothingcomparedtothekindofsoul-crushing

defeatIhadtoacceptunderthattreeasItriedtodrinkmyproblemsaway.Andthisgirl…thisangel…
appearedwithasweetvoiceandatalentforlistening.

IthinkIwon.
Anditscaresme.
BecausesomeoneelsethinksIwontoo.Andthat’swhyallthisshitishappening.It’snotPerfect’s

faultwegotchargedwithrape.It’snotRomantic’sfaultwegotchargedwithrape.

It’smine.

ChapterThirty-Seven-Victoria

Theclosingofourcabindoorjoltsmeoutofmysleep.Westsitsdownontheedgeofthemattress,

makingitdipfromhisweight.He’sgothisheadinhishands.

“What’swrong?”
“Nothing,”hesays,turningtolookatmeoverhisshoulder.“We’reatthemarinainWestPalm

Beach,sowegottagetupandgetdressednow.Thejetisaboutthirtyminutesaway.Weshouldbein
Californiathisafternoon.”Hegivesmeahalfsmile.“You’vegotadressinthatcloset.It’snotpurple,
whichsucks.Butit’sclean,whichisaplus.Myclothesareinthenextcabinover,soI’llmeetyouup
top,OK?Don’tbelong.”

Hegetsupandwalksout.
Hmmm.
Notevenakiss?Doesmybreathstinkorsomething?
Isigh,thenthrowoffthecovers.“FuckingWestonConrad.He’sbacktohisusualself,Iguess.”
I’mstillnotsurewhattomakeofthiswholetrip.Ofallthatstuffthathappenedbackinthe

Bahamas.Ortherescue.Orhisfriends,forthatmatter.Mr.Mysteriousdoesnotexactlycomeoffasa
friendlyguy.No.HewouldneverbecalledMr.Friendly.

AndIhavenoideawhattothinkofFive.AsVladthepilothecameoffassomekindofslackerina

tropicalshirt.Someguywholuckedoutwithpilotlessonswhenhewasyoungandwonacoolfloat
planeinapokergame.

Yeah,that’showhecameacross.ButI’veheardstoriesofFive.Notinalongtime,mindyou.But

Westcalledhim‘aprivilegedassholewhoistoosmartforhisowngood.’

Vladdidn’thavethatvibeatall.
So.Fiveisamanofmanyfaces.
Goodtoknow.
IopentheclosettotheclothesI’vebeenprovided.JustasWestsaid,there’sapinksundress.Pinkis

notmycolorandIfrownasIpullitoffthehangerandcheckthetag.Ihopemytitswillfitinthis
thing.

Igointothebathroom,washup,finger-combmywildhair,thengiveup.It’snouse.Iamstuck

withtheferallooktoday.WhichmightcomeinhandyifIhavetosetthesemenstraightwhenthey
startgettingbossy.Iwanttoknowjustwhatthefuckishappening.

Iwigglemygirlsintothedressandslipmyfeetintothesandalsatthebottomofthecloset,and

grabthelightsweateroffanotherhanger,justtohidethefactthatI’mnotwearingabra.

Mypoorpurplebrawasblownup.
Ithitsmethen.
Someonetriedtokillusyesterday.
“Don’tthinkaboutityet,Victoria.”AndIdon’t.It’snouseworrying.Iwasn’tkiddinglastnight

whenIsaidIfeelsafe.Sofar,anyway.There’smoretothisstorythanIknowandalltheanswers
comefromthethreeMisterswhowillcalltheirlittlemeetingtoorderthisafternoon.

SoI’mgonnawaitthemout.Justsittightandlisten.Watcheveryoneastheytalk.Seehowtheyact.

AndthenI’llstarttoworryifIfeelit’snecessary.

I’mafighter.I’mnotsomeweaklittlegirlwhobendsovertogetfucked.

Well…haha.Ilaugh.Idothattoo.Formyman.
Ishemyman?
JesusfuckingChrist,VictoriaArias.Getaholdofyourwanderingstreamofconsciousness.
Ileavethecabinandfindmywaytothestairs.Thisthingishugeforaboat.I’veneverbeenona

yacht,somaybetheyalllooklikethis.Iwouldn’tknow.ButI’mimpressed.

IhavebeenonWeston’sjetthough.
AndI’mactuallylookingforwardtothatkindofluxurytoday.Evenifitendswithaserious

meetingImightnotwanttobeapartof.

IwonderifJerryandJonathanstillworkonthejet?
“Well,finally,”MysterioussaysasIclimbthestairsandcomeoutinthemainlivingroom.
“Fuckoff,”Westsaystohisfriend.
Vlad—Five—smilesatmeandsays,“Ready?”
“Areyougoingtoflythejettoo?”Iask,walkingovertoWest,lettinghimtakemyhand.Ilookup

andsmile.Hesmilesback,butIcantellthere’sanuneasytensionintheairandIjustinterrupteda
conversation.

“No,”Fivesays,walkingtowardsthedoorway.“Butthecariswaitingandweneedtogetthehell

outofFloridabeforetheyrealizewe’reback.”

IlookupatWest,buthemouthstheword,Later,tome.
Ishrug.WhatamIgonnasay?Idon’tevenhavearidehometoNewYork.Iwassupposedtocall

mysecretbossforthereturnticketoncethewholeWallaceArlingtonthingwasover.I’mstuckwith
theseguyswhetherIlikeitornot.

Weleavetheboatandit’sstilldarkoutside.Thesunisjustbarelystartingtothinkofcomingupin

theeasternhorizonovertheocean.

Thecarislongandblackandweallslipin,silently.MysteriousandFiveareononebench,West

andIareoppositethem.

Westareateachotherinuncomfortablesilence.
Itrytoignorethatandlookaroundtheinterior.It’snice.Twoleatherbucketseatsarebuiltintothe

benches,soitreallyonlyseatsfourpeople.There’sabar,whichnoonemakesamovefor,even
thoughMysteriousstrikesmeasthekindofmanwhohasadrinkbeforebreakfast.Andtheaccents
areallinthatupscalesleekburlwoodpatternthatyouonlyseeinluxurycars.

“So,”Isay.“AsidefromtravelingtoSanDiego,what’stheplan?”
“Wecouldstartwiththetruth,”Mysterioussays.
Iraisemyeyebrowsathim.Westgrabsmyhand.“Don’tlistentohim,Tori.He’sanassholeeven

onagoodday.AndIthinkhe’shavingaverybaddayrightnow.”

“Becauseofyou,”Mysterioussays.
“Ithoughtyouguyswerefriends?”Iask.
“Friends,enemies…”Fivesays,closinghiseyesandleaningback.Allthreeofthemhavesuitson.

Blacksuitswithblackties.“It’snearlythesamethingwiththisteam.”

Hmmm.“Isthisyouruniform?WhenyouguysareinMistermode?”
Mysteriousnarrowshiseyesatme.
Inarrowmineback.
“MissArias,”Fivesays.“Ithinkwe’llgetthroughthistripaloteasierifyoudon’tprytoomuch.”

Heopenshiseyesandstaresatme.“Untilweaskyouforyoursideofthestory,thatis.”

“Mysideof…whatstory?”
“HowyougotinvolvedinthiswholeWallaceheadhunt,”Fivereplies.
Oh.Iclamupfast.
“Yeah,”Mysterioussays,lookingoveratWesttomyright.“Ithoughtthatmightshutherup.”

“Don’ttalktoher,”Westgrowls.“Eitherofyou.I’mfuckingseriousrightnow.”
“Hey,”Fivesays,sighinglikewe’rekeepinghimawake.“Let’sjustallcalmdownandtakemy

advice.Bothofyoushutthefuckup,”hesays,openinghiseyesbrieflybeforeclosingthemagain.
“We’llsortitoutinSanDiego.I’mfuckingtiredandyoudonotwanttopissmeoffwhenI’mtired.”

MysterioustakeshisattentiontotheviewouthiswindowandWestputsaprotectivearmaround

me.

IlookatFiveagain.Whoisthisguy?ShouldIbeafraid?Ishelike…mafia?
Hedoesn’tlooklikemafia.HelooksexactlythewayWestdescribedhimallthoseyearsago.

Privilegedasshole.Icantotallyseeit.

Weareallsilentfortherestoftheridetotheairport.AndeventhoughFivewastheonewhosaid

hewastired,it’sMysteriouswhograbssomez’s.Fivehastopunchhiminthearmseveraltimesto
makehimstopsnoring.

Iamjusthappytogetoutofthatcarwhenwepulluponthetarmac.AndI’mevenhappierwhenI

seeJerrystandingatthebottomofthejet.

Assoonasthedriveropensmydoor,Iscrambleoutofthecarandwalkbrisklytowardshim,

smilingbig.

“MissArias!”hesays,givingmeair-kissestoeachcheek.“Howhaveyoubeen?”Heholdsmeat

arm’slengthforafewmoments,likehe’sscrutinizingmeafteralongabsence.

Whichheis.
Ilaugh.“Jesus,Jerry.Youneverage!YoulookexactlythesameasthelasttimeIsawyou.”
“Ditto,yousweetflower.Now,youcomewithmeandIwillsetyouupinthemasterbedroomfor

oldtimes’sake.”Heshootsawinkoverhisshoulder,presumablytoWeston,andthenwetrekupthe
airstairstogether.

Whenwearebackintheprivatemasterbedroomattherearofthejet,Jerryclosesthedoorand

looksatme.

“What?”Iask.
“What’sgoingon?TheyarefuriouswithMr.Conrad.”
“What?”Iscowl.“Whatdoyoumean?Definefurious.BecauseIgetthattheyareupsetabout

something—”

“It’sbeyondupset,MissArias.WhenMr.Shrikecalledtoschedulethejetlastnighthewasyelling.

Atme!”Jerrysays,pointingtohimselfwithsurprise.“Iknowhe’snotmadatme.Buthe’sneverbeen
amantotreatpeoplebadly.Hewasbeyondangry.Whatisgoingon?”

“Idon’treallyknow.Wewere—”
Aloud,hardknockonthedoorstopsmemid-sentence.Thedooropenswithoutwaitingforan

invitation.Westonisloominginthedoor,lookingpissedoffandverytall.Hashealwaysbeenthis
big?Whydoeshelooksoangry?

“Thanks,Jerry.I’lltakeitfromhere.We’restillbeat,sowe’regonnagrabsomesleep.IthinkPax

andFivearegonnadothesame,soyoumightaswellgoseeiftheyneedanything.”

Jerrysmilesandleaves.Westclosesthedoorbehindhim.“Howyouholdingup?”heasks.Like

nothingishappeninghere.

“Good,Iguess.Exceptforallthesecretglancesandcodewordsflyingaround.What’shappening,

West?Whyiseveryonesotense?”

“Idon’tknowyet.ButI’mstilltired.Youstilltired?”
“Isthatcodeformoresex?”Ilaugh.
“No,”hesays,deadserious.
“Oh.OK.Yeah.Ididn’tgetmuchsleep.It’slikefiveinthemorning.Andyouandyourfriendsare

deadsetonkeepingsecretsuntilwegettoCalifornia,soImightaswellpassthetimeinyourarmsin

thisbed.”Ismile,narrowingmyeyes.“Rememberallthegoodtimeswe’vehadinthisbed,West?”

“Burnedinmymemory,baby,”hesays.AndinthatmomenttherealWest—theoneIknow,and

haveknown,fortenyears—ishereandtheoneIdon’tknowhasbeenorderedbacktowhereveritis
hehides.

I’mnotsurewhattothinkaboutthis.TheonlythingIknowisthatiftheMistersaretakingover,

andthatFiveguyishere,somethingbigishappening.

ChapterThirty-Eight-Weston

Ispendthenextfifteenminuteswaitingforthequestions.Sofarshe’sbeenunusuallysilentabout

whatshehastoknowisaprettybigdealbetweenmeandMysterious.He’sanasshole,I’vesaidit
plentyoftimesovertheyearstoTori,butshe’sneverseenusactuallyinteract.She’sonlyheard
thingssecond-hand.

He’sdeadfuckingsetonmakinghersuspicious.AndIknowwhatthatmeans.
He’sgoingtouseheragainstmeinSanDiego.
Butforwhateverreason,Toriisn’ttakinghisbait.She’scalm,controlled,andexceptionally

congenial.

Howlongwillthatlast?
Ilookoverather.She’ssnuggleduptomewhenwegotbackinbed.Notnaked.Notthistime.I

guessmyrudedismissalofhersexofferwastakenseriously.Ididn’tmeanittocomeoutthatway.
It’sjust…fuck.

MaybeMysteriousdoesknowsomething?Imean,morethanIknowheprobablyknows.Igetthat

thathe’sgoodatwhathedoes.Hedigsupdirtonpeople.Hefixesshit,orsomething.Moviestarsget
intotrouble.Someonediesattheirdrugparty.OrtheygettheirseventhDUI.Ortheyarebeing
blackmailedbythebabymamaoftheirillegitimatechildren.AndPaxtonVanceisthemantheycallto
sweepitallundertherug.

Hedoesthatwithblackmail,orpayoffs,orwhothefuckknows?Killsthem,maybe?Idon’tknow

whathedoes.

IdoknowPaxhassomeseriousresources.Butonlyfourpeopleknowmyrealstory.Oneofthem

isdeadandtheotherthreehavejustasmuchtoloseasIdoifthisevergetsout.SoifPaxdoesknow,
thenhowdidhegetthatinformation?

It’sdefinitelynottheotherpeopleinmylittledirtypast.Iknowthatshitforsure.Twoofthemwill

nevertalk.Ever.Andthelastone…well,Ihavemoreonhimthanhecanpossiblyhaveonme.I’ve
hadtorenegotiatethisdealbeforesoIhavetriggersinplacetomakesurethatshitgetsoutif
anythingeverhappenstome.

HeknowsIhavethosetriggers.
Ifhefuckingwentbackonhisword…well,Iwillfuckingtakehimdownwithme.
Don’tfreakoutnow,Corporate.You’reatthegoddamnedfinishline.Youjusttalkedtohimaboutit

lastweek.Nothingwassuspicious.Nothingwasoutoforder.Everythingisstillcool.

Mysteriousprobablyknowssomething,though.Ijustwishhe’dletontowhatitis.
I’msureheknowsaboutschool.That’stheonlypapertrailthereis.That’sit.Hecan’tknow

anythingelse.Hecan’t.

Ifhedoes…thenwhothefucktoldhim?Nooneknowswhathappenedthatnightexceptme.No

one.

Theyhavetobebluffing.
Idon’tknowifIsleepduringthatsix-hourflight.MaybeIdo,fitfullyandinspurts.ButIdoknow

thatwhenthatknockcomestothecabindoor,I’mawake.

Andready.
Toriwon’ttaketheirsideovermine.Shewon’t.Shebelongstome.I’msoclosetosealingthat

deal,Icantasteherinmymouth.

Solet’sgo,Mr.Match.Let’sgetthisshowontheroad,Mr.Mysterious.I’maplayer.I’marisk-

taker.I’mawinner.AndI’mnotgonnalettheseassholestakemedown.NotafterthehellIwent
throughtogetthisfar.AndI’mnotgonnaletthemscrewthingsupwithVictoriaandme.Weareon
ourwaytoafull-onsecondchance.

Sonofuckingway.Thisisn’tgonnagodownthewaytheyexpect.
I’mready.I’vebeenpreparingforthismomentforfifteenyears.
I’mallin,motherfuckers.
Let’sdothisshit.

ChapterThirty-Nine-Victoria

WesthasbeendifferenteversinceMr.Mysteriousshowedup,butrightnow,aswedriveinthecar

thatwilltakeustowhereverMr.Matchiswaiting,he’ssilentandwithdrawn.Lastnighthewassilent
andattentive,sosilentandwithdrawnisyetanotherchangethattellsmesomethingbigisaboutto
happen.

Ilookoverathim,buthedoesn’tevennotice.He’sstaringoutthewindow.
Ilookacrossfromme,atMr.Mysterious,andhedoesn’tnoticeeither.He’slookingoutthe

window.

IlookatFive.
Heshrugsandshakeshishead,asiftosay,Don’tbother.
AllofasuddenWestonsitsupstraight.“Wherethefuckarewegoing?”
Ilookoutmywindowaswepulluptoagatedcommunitynotfarfromthebeach.It’ssoclose,I

cansmellthesaltandfeelthewaytheseaairchangesthingsassoonasthedriveropenshiswindow
totalktotheguard.

“NolanDelaneyisexpectingMr.VanceandMr.Conrad,”thedriversaystotheguard.
“IthoughtyousaidNolanwasn’tapartofthis?”Westasksastheguardopensthegateandwaves

usthrough.

“He’snot,”Mysteriousanswers.“ButOliverandIusethishouseforbusiness.”
“Doyounow?SomehowIhaveahardtimeseeingNolansayingyestothatlittlearrangement.”
“Iguessthat’swhywedon’ttellhim.”Hesaysitwithastraightfacetoo.Likethisisnobigdeal.

Heuseshousesthatdon’tbelongtohimallthetime.“Besides,”hecontinues.“Nolanhasenough
housesforeveryone.Hedoesn’tcomehere.He’sdowninSanDiegooroutinthedesert.Whathe
doesn’tknowcan’thurthim,nowcanit?”

“YouknowwhatIdon’tget,”Westsays.“Whythefuckyouthinkthatwhat’soursisyoursallthe

time.”

Mysteriousshrugs.“That’sjusthowIroll,Corporate.Anyway,”hesays,suddenlylookingoverat

Westwithaveryseriousglare.“Youandhimarealike,right?Silverspoonsandall.”

“Saystheguywhogrewuptakingponyridesonhorsesworthtwomilliondollars.”
Mysteriousdoesn’tevenshrugitoff.Justreplies,“MaybeyouandNolanreallydon’thave

anythingincommon?Isn’tthatwhatyoualwayssaidbackintheday?You’resodifferent.”

IlookatFiveandhe’spretendingthisconversationisn’thappening.
“What’sthatsupposedtomean?”Westasks.
AndthistimeMysteriousdirectshisreplytome.“You’reabouttofindout,Mr.Corporate.And

so’syourlittlegirlfriend.SoifIwereyou,I’denjoythisrealityforafewmoreminutes.Becauseit’s
allabouttocomecrashingdown.”

IreachoverandtakeWest’shand.Giveitasqueeze.“It’sOK,West.Whateverishappening,it

won’tchangeus.”

“Youbetternotmakepromisesyoucan’tkeep,MissArias,”Fivesuddenlysays.He’sbeenquietin

frontofmealmostthisentiretripandnowisthetimehechoosestospeakup?

“Well,Mr.Five,”Isay,sneeringhisfakename.“I’mjustlettingmyboyfriendknowthatI’monhis

side.Especiallysincethetwoofyouaresodeadsetonganginguponhim.We’reateam,andnothing

youhavetotellmecanchangethat.”

“Youdon’tknowanything,VictoriaArias,”Fivesaysback.“Nothingaboutwhat’shappeninghere.

SoI’mgonnagiveyouasmallpieceofadvice.Waituntilyouhearthefactsbeforeyoumakeany
moredeclarations.”

“Fuckyou.Youknowwhat?We’reoutofhere.”Westdropsmyhandandpullsouthisphone,his

fingersrunningthroughhiscontacts.

“Putitaway,”Fivesays.AndwhenWestdoesn’tlistenhesays,“DoesthenameStewartManchester

meananythingtoyou,Weston?”

Itmust,becausesomeoneistalkingontheotherendofWest’sphoneandWestignoresthevoice

nexttohiseartostareatbothMysteriousandFive.Heendsthecallandputshisphoneaway.

Whatthefuckwasthatabout?
IlookoveratWestbuthewon’tmeetmygaze.
“Don’tworry,”Mysterioussays.AndwhenIlookathim,Irealizehe’stalkingtome.“Thisishis

bigmoment,Victoria.Twenty-fiveyearsofliesaregonnacomepouringoutinjustafewminutes.”

ItakeWest’shandback,squeezingitagain,onlythistimeharder.“Don’tlisten,West.I’mnotgoing

anywhere.It’sus,remember?Usagainsttheworld.”

Westlooksatmewithafrown.“Maybehe’sright.Youshouldprobablystopmakingpromises,

Tori.Youmightregretitinafewminutes.”

“What?”
Butthere’snotimetogetanymoreinformationoutofhim.Becausewepulluptoamassivehouse

andwhenIlookoutthewindowIseethelastpersoninthislittlegang-up.Mr.Matchisstandingin
frontofaglass-frontdoubledoor.HeopensitatthesametimeMysteriousopensthedoorclosestto
us,andwalkstowardsthecar.

Igetout,thenFiveandWest.
Mr.Matchgreetsmewithanextendedhand.Ijustlookathim,refusinghisgesture.Helooksover

athisfriendsandshrugs.“What’sup,man?Howwasthetrip?”

“Wentasplanned.Asyoucansee.”MysteriouspointstomeandWest,whohascomeupnexttome.

Westdoesnottakemyhand.

“Oliver,”Westsays.
“WemissedyouatthelastmeetingbackatPerfect’shouse.”
“Iwork.Ican’tbetakingoffeverytimethere’saproblemwithoneofyouguys.”
“Well,”Matchsays,“Ithinkthat’sabouttochange.”
“Isthatright?”Westasks.
ButMatchjustwaveshishandtowardsthehouse.
“Arewestaying?”IaskWest.“Wedon’thavetostay,Weston.Let’sjustgo.”
“Sorry,”Westsays.“Butwedo.”
“We’vegotalottotalkabout,”Matchsays.“Soplease,comeinandmakeyourselfathomewhile

wehashitallout.”

ChapterForty-Weston

Paxisarrangingfurniture.Or,Ishouldsay,rearrangingfurniture.I’vebeentothishouseof

Nolan’sbefore.Notalot,butwewereonlyacouplehoursapartbeforehetookonthatprojectinthe
desert,soIcamedowneveryonceinawhile.DelMarisnothalfwaybetweenmyhouseandhis,not
atall.Butwhenyou’redrivingdownthe5freewayinbumper-to-bumpertrafficonaFridaynight,
you’regratefulyoudon’thavetomakethatlasttrekintodowntown.

Sowemethere.
Thishouseislikeatributetosleekmoderndesign.AndIknowthatPaxusedtoownit,thathesold

ittoNolan,andthenaskedhimnottosellitwithoutaskinghimfirst—he’salwayshadthatentitlement
mentality—andPaxmadehimpaycash.

IknowthisbecausePaxcametomethesamedaythehousefinallyclosedandhegothismoney.He

cametomebecauseheneededmore.

Igavehimthatfivemillion,plusanothermillionafewdayslater.HecaughtmewhenIwasflush

withmoneyandfeelingmagnanimous.

“Whatareyoudoing?”IaskPaxasIlookatFiveandOliverhavingaquietconversationouton

theterrace.Paxignoresme.

Five.Yesterdayontheboathelookedlikeaguywho’sjustaboutdoneridingwavesandjustabout

torealizehe’sgotnothingtoshowforallthoseyearshespentonthesandbutanoldfloatplane.

Todayhelookslikeasecretagent.
Allfourofusarewearingdarksuits.It’slikeauniform.Weareallwearingblackties.Iwasn’t

givenachoice.Mysuitwasprovidedforme.ButFiveisdifferentthanusMisters.He’sgotblack
sunglassesonashegazesoutovertheterracetotheocean.Thehorsesaren’trunningatthemoment,
sothereisnoonedownontheDelMarRacetrack,whichthismini-mansionoverlooks.

It’snotthesunglassesthough.Orthedarksuit.Orthewayhewentfromfrumpytomanscapedin

lessthantwenty-fourhours.It’severythingabouthim.Thewayhetalks—ordoesn’ttalk,Ishouldsay.
Thewayhelistens,Iguess.Thatdetachedexpressionhe’salwayswearing.It’stheconfidencehehas.
Likeheknowsthings.It’sthemoney,too.Obviously,he’sgotplentyofit.

Butwe’veallgotmoney.AndeventhoughPaxhasbeenborrowinglikecrazyovertheyears,I

knowhe’sgoodforitbecauseIknowhe’sfuckingloadeduptotheneckinrealestate.

“What’stheirdeal?”IaskPax,noddingmyheadouttoOliverandFiveontheterrace.
“We’regonnafindoutsoon,”Paxsays,pushingachairintoposition.Thenhesmiles,looking

downathisarrangementlikehisjobhereiscomplete,andputstwofingersonhistongueandwhistles
sharplytogeteveryone’sattention.

IlookoveratToritoseehowshe’stakingthis.
Shelooksbored.SoIshootherasmileandshesmilesback.
“OK,”Paxsays,rubbinghishandstogetherwhenOliverandFivecomebackinside.“ThisiswhatI

calltheJesusCircle.MissArias,”hesays,stoppingtostareatheracrosstheroom.She’ssittingatthe
bar,sippingsomewaterthatshehelpedherselfto.“Joinus.”

Toriglancesatme.Ishrug.Shegetsup,bringingherwaterwithher,andstandsbymyside.
Weareateam,thatpositioningsays.
IfPax,andOliver,andFiveareateam,well,wecanbeateamtoo.

Therearetwosidesinthisroom.
Usandthem.
“TheCome-to-JesusCircle,actually,”Paxclarifies.“And,”hesays,lookingatallofusandthen

thefurniture,“thereareassignedseats,I’mafraid.Butdon’tworry,MissArias.”HegivesToria
wink.“IhaveyounexttoyourBFF.”Hepointstothefirstchaironhisleft.“Five,”hesays,“yousit
here.”

Fivewalksovertoabigplushchairandsitsdown,casuallykickingback,oneankleplacedeasily

ontheoppositekneelikehe’ssettlinginforsomethinglongandboring.

“Thenyou,Corporate.Andyou,MissArias.”
Wearesentencedtositonthecouch,toFive’sleft.
“Andyou,Match.Rightthere.”HesitsinthechairdirectlyoppositeFive.
“I’mtakingthisone,”Paxsays,turningadiningroomchairaroundsohecancopasquatonit,

facingbackwards,andprophishandsontheseatback.

“Youwanttotelluswhatthefuckisgoingon?”Iask,unperturbed.
“Don’tbesoantsy,Corporate.Thesethingstaketime.”
“You’vegottenminutes.Thenwe’releaving.”
Paxnodsatme,agesturethatsomeonelessfamiliarwithhimmightmistakeasbackingdown.But

Iknowbetter.

“OK,”hesays.“I’llgetthisshowontheroad.I’mtheonewhosetyoutwoupwiththatwhole

WallaceArlingtonjob.”

“There’snojob?”Toriasks,herwordsacombinationofannoyanceandregret.“Soyouwasted

ourtimeandalmostgotuskilled?Forwhatreason?”

“MissArias,”Paxsays,slowlyturninghisheadtolookather.“I’minthehotseatrightnow.That

meansItalkandyoulisten.”

“Fuckyou,”shesays.Doesn’tyellitorevensayitwithcontempt.Shestatesit.Fuckhim.
IraisemyeyebrowsandsmileatPaxwhenhelooksbacktome.“AsIwassayingbeforeIwas

interrupted.Mycome-to-Jesusmomentwithyou,Corporate,isthatIsetyouuptobeonthatisland.”
Hesmiles,thenadds,“Togetyoukilled.”

“Excuseme?”
“Tori,”Isay,lookingdownather.Itakeherhandandgiveitasqueeze.“Lethimfinish.”
“But,”Paxsays,ignoringTori’soutburst,“you’renotaneasyguytokill,areyou,Corporate?”
“Whatwouldbethefuninthat?”Iask,lookingatOliver.“You’reinthistoo?Youguyssetme

up?”

“Takeyourownadvice,”Oliversays.“Andlethimfinish.”
Tori’slegstartsbouncing,likeshe’sgettingpissedoff.
“Goahead,”Isay,lookingbacktoPax.“Finishthen.”
“Igotacallaboutamonthago.JustbeforeallthatshitwithRomantichappened.Itwasyourfriend

LiamHenry.”

“Goon,”Isay.
“Hesaidyouwerebecomingaproblemforhim.HesaidPerfect’slittlealtercationwithAllenwas

alsoaproblem.Hesaidtherebetternotbeanymoreproblems.”

“Youworkforhim?”Iask.
“Have.Inthepast.Strictlyfreeagentstuff,youknow.Contractsandshit.Hissonhadarun-inwith

anex-girlfriendafewyearsagoandItookcareofitforhim.Coupleothersmallthings.Butwhen
Romantichadthatissue,well,Liamgotnervous.”

“Why?”Iask,tryingtofitthepiecestogether.
“Heneversaid.ButIcanreadbetweenthelines,West.AndI’vebeenputtingthepiecestogetherfor

awhilenow.”

“Sotellus,”Torisnaps.
Iplacemyhandonherlegandsay,“Quiet.”Shehasnoideawhat’shappening.ButI’mstartingto

understand.“Goon.”

“IthinkI’mgonnahandthetalkingstickovertoFivenow.Andwe’lljustletitallsortitselfoutin

thecircle.”

IletoutadeepbreathandlookatFive.
Hesays,“I’mgonnapassfornow.IthinkI’llgolast.”
IlookatPaxagainandhesmiles,“Soyou’reup,Corporate.Andstartfromthebeginning.”
“MaybeI’llpasstoo,”Isay,buyingafewsecondstocollectmythoughts.
“Sorry,”Paxsays.“Nocando.ButI’llhelpyouout,ifyouneedit.Whenyouweresevenyearsold

yourdrunkenassholeofafatherfoundsomethinginteresting,didn’the?”

IlookoveratTori,thencatchmyselfandlookbacktoPax.Iliedtoheraboutthis.ItoldherIwas

fourteen.

“Don’tlookather,Corporate.She’snotgonnahelpyououtwiththisone.Andyou’renotgonna

sendheroutoftheroomtosaveface.Somanup,asshole.It’stimetomanup.”

“Ialreadyknow,”Torisays.“Hetoldmetheothernightwhilewewereontheisland.”
“Tori—”Isay.
“Didhenow?”Paxinterrupts.“SomehowIdoubtthat.Oh”—Paxlaughs—“I’msurehetoldyou

something,MissArias.Butwhateveritwas,itwasalie.”Paxlooksmedeadintheeyesandsays,
“Everythinghe’severtoldushasbeenalie.Isn’tthatright,West?”

“West?”Toriasks.“What’sgoingon?”
Istaysilent,butOliveristheretofillthespace.“Weknow,West.Sojustcomeclean.Weknow

whatyoudid.”

Theycannotpossiblyknow.Theycan’t.I’venevertoldanyone.
“Wehaveourwaysoffindingthingsout,”Oliversays.AndwhenIglanceoverathim,he’s

noddingtoFive.

IlookoveratFivetoo.Heshrugsandsays,“That’swhyIpassed.Ialreadyknoweverythingabout

you,Mr.Conrad.Andwejustneedyoutocomecleansowecancleartheairandfixthisshit.”

“Fixit?”Iask.“Fixwhat?”
“Thereasonwhypeoplearecomingafterusisyou,West.”Paxsaysit.“Weknowit’syou.”
“Wait,”Torisays.“Just…wait.Ihavesomethingtosaytoo.Beforethisgoesanyfurther.”
ButOliverputsupahandandsays,“You’llgetyourturnnext,MissArias.Buthisstoryhasto

comefirst.”

Ithoughtaboutit.IthoughtaboutallthewaysIcouldbecaughtandthiswasneverevenupinthe

tophundred.Corneredbymyownfriends.Mygirlfriendintheroom,listeningtoallofit.Allthe
lies,alltheplots,alltheplanning,allthebetrayals.

ButIfeelahugesenseofrelieftoo.It’stime,Ithink.Theseguysareright.I’vebeenrunningsince

thatnightImetVictoriaoutinfrontoftheadministrationbuilding.

Iwasonthevergeofgettingbusted.
AndthenIwasn’t.
IthoughtitwasweirdthenandIthinkit’sweirdnow.Butthey’rewrongiftheythinkthisismy

fault.Ididn’tstartthisshit.Ihadnothingtodowiththatgirlwhoaccusedusofrape.Ididn’teven
knowher.

SofuckMysterious,andMatch,andtheirfriend,Five.
Justfuckthem.
I’mtiredofrunninganyway.I’mtiredoffeelingguiltyforputtingmyselffirst.

I’mtiredofallthisshit.
Fuckthem.
Iopenmymouthandstarttalking.

*******

WhenIwassixthingswerebad.Myfatherwasadrunk,mymotherwassick,thehousewelivedin

wasnothingbutashack.TheschoolIwenttowassmallbuteveryoneknewwhoIwas.

Thepoorkid.
Butalsothesmartkid.Thetoughkid.Thefighter,thetroublemaker,theliar,thecheat,thethief.
Myfatherwasalsoagambler.Andeventhoughthehousewelivedinwasworthless,theland

wasn’t.Wewereland-rich.Andeverytimearealestatedevelopercameknockingbecausetheywanted
tobuythelandaroundusandputupmoreluxurymansions,he’daskforsomeoutrageousnumber.

Fiftymillion.Hundredmillion.Pricesjustsoastronomical,thedeveloperstookitasajoke.
Hewasn’tjoking.Heknewwhatwehad.Fivehundredacresofprime,undevelopedlandonan

islandthathasverydefiniteboundaries.Thesedeveloperssawdollarsigns.Lotsandlotsofdollar
signs.

Butundeveloped,itwasnowherenearworththepricemyfatherwasasking.“They’llgivein

eventually,”heusedtosay.“They’llhaveto.Onlyoneplaceonearththatlookslikethis,West,”he’d
say.“AndIownit.”

HisgrandplanstartedtofallapartduringaSaturdaynightpokergameaboutayearandahalf

later.

Wewereonayacht,wewereininternationalwaters,andhewasdrunkasI’veeverseenhim.
Irealizedlaterthatitwasasetup.ButIwasonlysevenbackthen,sohowcouldIknow?Iwas

clever,butnotwise.Itwentrightovermyhead.

Bythistimemymotherwasalreadydead.Andmyfatherreallywasthinkingofsellingtheland.

AndIhadjustfinishedmyfirstseasonofillegallobstertrapping,whichishowIknewaboutthecave.

Myfatherlostourlandinthatgame.Butjustastherowdygroupstartedtocelebratehislossand

theirgain,Ispokeup.

“Ihavesomethingworthalotmorethanthatland,”Isaid.
Nooneheardme.Noonepaidmeanyattention.Noonestoppeddrinking,orlaughing,or

celebrating.

Myfatherhadwalkedout,minutesbefore,callingformetofollowhimorhe’dleavemeherewith

thebastardswho’djustcheatedmeoutofmyinheritance.

Ididn’treallyknowwhatthatmeant.Ijustknewthatthelandwasminetoo.AndIhadjustlostit.
Myfatherdidleavemebehind.Henevercalledformeagain.Justhadthecrewshuttlehimoverto

hisboatanddrophimoff.

BythetimeIthoughttogolooking,theboatwasgone.
ButIdidn’tneedhimbythen,anyway.
Ihadstruckanewdeal.

*******

“Youfoundthattreasure?”Toriasks.
IlookoveratPaxandwaitforthelaugh.
Buthedoesn’tlaugh.Whichmeanshereallymightknowwhatcomesnext.
“IfoundtheunderwatercavewhileIwassettinglobstertrapsthatsummer.AndIfoundthefirst

goldcoinabouttwoweeksintomylittlebusinessadventure.Ikeptoneinmypocket.Inevershowed
ittoanyone,Iwassmarterthanthat.ButIkeptitinthere.Noonewasgoingtorobadirtylittlekid.
ButthatnightontheboatIflickeditonthetablewhilethemenplayed.AndIsaid,‘Givemebackmy
landandI’llshowyouwhereyoucanfindtherest.’”

“Didthey?”Oliverasks.“Giveyouthelandback?”
“Notquite,”Isay.“ButIgotapromisefromLiam.”
“Liam,”Torisays,withequalpartssadnessanddisgust.
“Whatkindofpromise?”Paxasks.
“IshowthemwheretherestofthecoinswereandLiamwouldhookmeupwithabetterfamily

thantheoneIdrewinthegeneticslottery.”

“Betterfamily?”Toriasks.
Inod,unabletolookather.
“Theykilledmydadassoonasthelandtransferwentthrough.AndIgotsoldtotheConrads.Liam

keptmyland.Oh,itwasdevelopedalongtimeago.It’sgoneforgood.Likeitneverevenexisted.
Likemychildhoodneverhappened.ButIhavesomethingtheystillwant.Verybadly.”

“Younevertoldthemwherethecoinswere,”Fivesays.
Ilookathimandnod.“Hellthefuckno,Ididn’t.Itookthosecrookstoanotherunderwatercave.

SimilartotheoneIfound.Theentrancewastoosmallforagrownman,soIhadtobetheirdiver.

“Itwasnotaneasydivetothecavewherethetreasurewas.Itwassmall,andcramped,andthere

wasnoairchamberonceyouwereinthere.Itwasn’tascenefromGoonies,youknow?”

PaxandOliverbothshootmeasmile.Iwasobsessedwiththatmovieasakid.Itfeltlikeamovie

aboutme.Mylife.Iwatcheditalotinthefrathouse.Theywatchedtoo.

“ItwasdangerousandIonlydidittwice.Once,Itookasinglecoin,justtolookatitonceIgot

backtothesurface.Itwasfucking…”Istoptalkingforamoment,relivingthatmemory.Myheart
wasbeatingsofastIthoughtIwasdying.Myhandswereshakingwithexcitementthenfear.Myhead
wasspinning,tryingtowrapmythoughtsaroundwhatwashappening.“Itwasfuckinggold,man.”I
laugh,andwhenIlookoveratbothPaxandOliver,they’resmiling.LiketheycanfeelwhatI’m
feelingasIgobackintime.“Itwasn’tcrustedwithcrap,likeyouseeoncoppercoins.Itwasfucking
gold.”

God,evenifIwasn’talittlekidwithabigdream,I’dstillfeelthesamewayifIfoundityearslater.
“Ididn’tgobackdownagainforafewweeks.Mydadwasconstantlydrunkandpissedoff.Hewas

gamblinglikecrazy.Andlosing.SoIneededtoworksoIcouldeat.”

IglanceoveratToriandshe’sgotadeep,deepfrownonherface.Iwanttosay,See,ItoldyouI

knewwhatitwaslike.

ButIdon’t.
“Andpartofmethought…itcan’tbereal,youknow?I’mnotthekindofkidwhogetsalucky

break.Butmydadhadbeentalkingaboutthatbigpokergameallweek.TheonewithLiam.Hewasa
regularonNantucket.Hehadahugemansionandabigyacht.Heinvitedmyfatherouttoplay.AndI
knownowthatLiamwasplanningthatgameallalong.Totakeourland.Soeverydaymyfatherwas
goingonandonandonaboutgettingrichoffLiamHenryinthenextpokergame.Butmygutknew
better.Iknewsomethingwaswrong.AndIimaginedthingsgoingdownahundredways,andeach
oneofthemendedupwithmehungryandhomeless.”

“Soyouwentandgotmore,”Torisays.
Inod.“Idovedownagain,onlythistimeIdidn’tdarebringthemuptothesurface.Iknewof

anothercavenearby.Igotlobstersoutofitoften.Itwassmalltoo.Notbigenoughforamantofit.So
Itookaboutafewdozencoinsandstashedthemthere,justincaseIneededthemquick.”

“Afewdozencoins?”Oliverasks,stunned.“Howmanywerethere?”

“Hundreds,”Isay.“Hundreds,youguys.”
“Goon,”Fiveprods.
“Itookthemtothesecondcave.IcamebackupwiththestashedcoinsandIhandedthemover.That

wastheendofthetreasureasfarasIwasconcerned.”

“DidLiambelieveyou?”Oliverasks.
“No.”Ilaugh.“No,notevenalittlebit.Theybeatthefuckoutofmefortwoweeks.Butitwasmy

firsttasteofpower,youknow?Myfirstglimpseatwhatinformationgivesyou.Andtherewasno
fuckingwayIwasgonnatellthemanything.TheConradsintervened.Theyjustwantedtoadoptme.I
washandedoverwithmyeyesswollenshut,twobrokenfingers,andthreecrackedribs.Theytook
careofme,nursedmebacktohealth.Welefttheislandandallthememoriesbehindandsettledintoa
placeinupstateNewYork.Istayedthereforafewyears,studyingfortheentranceexamsthatwould
getmeintotherightschools,and,well,youknowtherest.IowetheConradseverything.They’renot
badpeople.”

“Theyboughtyou,”Torisnarls.
“Theytookcareofme.Sentmetogoodschools.Boughtmecarsandshit.Ican’tcomplainabout

thattransaction.Andtheysavedmylifebackthen.Theybelievedme.AndLiamowedthemafavor.
Sotheywon.Theygotmeout.Theysavedmyass.”

“Liamowedthemwhatkindoffavor?”Paxasks.
Ishrug.“Whoknows.Somethingbigenoughtostealasmartkidfromapoorfamilyandnotget

caught.”

Mysteriouslooksatmehardforafewseconds.“You’relying.”
“I’mnotfuckinglying.EverythingIjusttoldyouistrue.”
“ThenhowthefuckdoesStewartManchesterfitin?”Oliverasks.
“Oh,”Isay.
“Yeah.Oh,”Paxsays,mockingme.“Let’skeepthisshitreal,Corporate.WeknowaboutStewart.”
“How?”Iask.“I’lltellyou,fine.Fuckit.ButIwanttoknowhowthefuckyoufoundout.Becauseif

Ineedtocovermytracks—”

“Liam,”Paxsays.“Heknewaboutthat,West.”
“Fuck,”Isay.
“Yeah,fuck,”Paxechoes.“Socontinue,motherfucker.”
IglanceoveratToriandletoutanexhaustedsigh.Shesqueezesmyhandinencouragement.“I’m

notleaving,West.Don’tworry.Whateveritis,I’mnotleaving.”

Ilookdownandstarttalkingatthesametime.“StewartManchesterwasasummerkidon

Nantucket.HeknewmebeforetheConrads.Ididn’tcomebacktotheislandforyears.It’slikemy
parentswantedtoforgetIwasn’ttheirs,sowenevercameback.ButIwasinmysenioryearat
boardingschoolandallmyfriendsweregoingtoNantucketforsummerbreak.SoIwent.Ifigured
noonewouldrememberme.”

“I’mguessingyoudidn’tcountonStewart’slongmemory?”Paxsays.
“Heknew,man.HeknewIwasadopted.HesaidIhadmyfatherkilled.”
“Whatdidyoudo?”Toriasks.
“Ifuckingdeniedit,”Isay.“WhatthehellwasIgonnasay?Yeah,alltrue?”Ilaugh.“Butthenhe

says,‘Iknowaboutthecoinstoo.’”

“Shit,”Fivesaysoutofnowhere.Weallturntolookathim.
“Shit,”Isay,agreeing.
“Didyoukillhim?”Paxasks.
Ishrug.“Hewantedthecoins.Ican’tevenfitinsidethatfuckingcaveanymore.AndIwasn’tgoing

tojusthandthemover,anyway.SoImadeadeal.I’llgogetthem,wesplitthem,andthenwegoour

separateways.”

“Sohowdidheendupdead?”Oliverasks.
“HeandImetininternationalwaters.Hewasaloneonhisboat.Iwasaloneonmyfather ’sboat.

And…itgotugly.”

“Youkilledhim?”Toriasksindisbelief.
“Ididn’t…technicallykillhim.Wefought,hewentoverthesideofhisboat.Henevercameback

up.Ileft.Inevergotthecoins.They’restillfuckingdownthereinthatcaveforallIknow.”

“Andthat’sit?”Fiveasks.
“That’snotenough?”Iaskback.
“Itjustdoesn’texplainwhat’shappeningnow.”
IstareatFive.“Idon’tknowwhat’shappeningnow.”
“You’releavingsomethingout,”Paxsays.
I’mleavingalotout.Buthecan’treallyknowthat.Hecan’t,unlessLiamtoldhimwhatoursecond

dealwas,andhedidn’t.Iknowhedidn’t.Hecan’taffordtoletpeoplelikeMysterious—peoplewho
treatsecretsasacommodity—inonsomethinglikethat.

“Itoldyouthetruth,”Isay,adamantenoughtomakeitsoundfinal.
Theroomissilentasweallthinkthisover.
“Andnow?”Paxasks.“Where’sthisallstandnow?”
Ithrowupmyhandsandsigh.“Here,Iguess.WithLiamdouble-crossingmeandyouguys

lookingforascapegoat.”

“That’snotwhatthisis,”Oliversaysquickly.
“No?”Iask.“Thenwhatisthis?”
“What’sgoingonwithyourbanksaccounts?”Fiveasks.“That’sthelastpieceofyourpuzzle.”
“Whatthefuckareyoutalkingabout?”
“Yourmoney,Corporate.Whatthefuckareyoudoingwithyourmoney?”
“WhatIdowithmymoneyisnoneofyourbusiness,asshole.”
“Itiswhenmillionsofdollarsinassetsinyournameareliquidatedovernight.”
“What?Ididn’tliquidateanything.I’vegotmostofitstashedoff-shore.”
“Youdid,youmean,”Paxsays.
“Whatthefuckisthatsupposedtomean?”Iaskback.
“Ifyoudidn’tmoveit,thentheystoleit,Weston,”Oliversays.“Theystoleallyourmoneywhile

youwerestuckonthatisland.You’vebeencleanedout.”

“AndthatleadsustolittleMissArias.Rightoncue,”Paxsays.“Shewaspartofthat,West.You

shouldknowthatupfront.Shewaspartofit.”

ChapterForty-One-Victoria

“That’snottrue!”Isay.“Howdareyouaccuseme!Iwasstuckonthatislandwithhim,youjerks.I

havenothingtodowithanyofthis.”

“You’rewrong,”Oliversays.“You’rethewholereasonwegotsetupinthefirstplace.”
“Whatthehellareyoutalkingabout?”IlookatWest,whostayssilent.“West?”Iask.“Youcannot

believethem!Iamnotapartofthis.”

“OK,”Fivesayscalmly.“Let’sjusttakeadeepbreathandstartfromthebeginningwithyou,Miss

Arias.”

“No,”Isay,stompingmyfootdownonthetiledfloor.“No.Mypastisnoneofyourbusiness.I’m

notrehashingthiswithcompletestrangers.”IlookatWeston.“Please,West!Don’tletthemdothis.I
toldyou.Thatwashardforme.Youhavetounderstandthat.Itwashardforme.I’mnotsharingthese
verypersonalthingswithyourfriends.No.”

Ifeelthepanicrisinginme.Ican’ttalkaboutthistothem.No.Myheartisracing,andmylegsare

trembling.Iholdmyhandoutinfrontofmyfaceandfinditshakingsobad,itscaresme.

“Tori,”Westsays,pullingmeintohim.“Justtakeiteasy.Ithinkthere’saconnectionhere,babe.

AndIthinkweneedtoknoweverythinginordertoputallthepiecesbacktogether.”

“Ididn’tstealyourmoney.It’snotmyfault.Ijustansweredthephone,that’sall!”
“What’sthatmean,Victoria?”Paxasks.
ButWestholduphishandandsays,“Justholdupforaminute.OK?Justholdup.”Hestands,

takingmyhandandpullingmewithhim.“We’regoingupstairs—”

“Fuckthat,”Paxsays,standingupandpushingWestbackwithaflatpalmtohischest.“Fuckthat.

Doyouhaveanyideahowfuckingseriousthisshitis,Corporate?”

“Ifwhatyouguysaresayingistrue,thenIjustlosteverythingI’vebeenworkingforthepastten

years,Mysterious,”Westsays,eerilycalm.“Soyes,I’mprettyfuckingsureIknowhowseriousthis
is.I’mtakingToriupstairstotalkandwe’regoingtofigureitouttogether.Andafterwedo,I’lllet
youknow.”

Ican’tlookanyoneinthefaceasWestleadsmeupstairs.Itwasn’tme.Itwasn’tme.Itwasn’tme.I

keepchantingitoverandover,willingittobetrue.Itwasn’tme.

Itcan’thavebeenme.
Thestairsleadtoacatwalklinedwithwirecablesinsteadofarailing.Andthecatwalkoverlooks

thelivingroom,soIdon’thavetomovemyheadatalltoseethreesetsofeyesstaringatmefrom
downbelow.

Westleadsmepastthemandintoanotherpartofthehouse.Hegoesbyafewbedroomsand

bathrooms,andstopsinfrontofasetofdoubledoorsthatopenintoanoffice.

Heclosesthedoorbehindus,thentwiststhelock.
Imeethiseyes.“Whatarewedoing?”
“Ijustneedaminute,OK?AndIdidn’twanttoleaveyoudowntherewiththoseassholes,sojustlet

mehaveafuckingdrinkandwecandecidewhattodonext.”Hewalksovertoalargecupboard,
opensthedoors,andpullsoutaslidingtraysetfordrinks.“Wantone?”

“Yes,”Isay.“Makemineadouble.”
Westtakestheicebucketandopensanothercabinet,whereasmallfreezerishidden.Hefillsthe

bucketasIlookaroundtheofficeandtrytobreathe.

“NolanandIusedtomeetuphereeverynowandthen.AfterawhileIjustcamefortheambiance,

youknow?”Westlooksatmeashepicksupthesmallicecubeswiththesilvertongsandplacesthem
carefullyinourglasses.Heletsoutasmalllaugh.“WhenIwasakidIusedtowatchConradtake
meetingsathome.Thisishowhehaditsetuptoo.IcanonlyassumeDelaneyseniorhadsomething
similarathisplace.PowerfulmenallhavedecantersofScotchintheiroffice.Icebuckets,andtongs,
andcrystalglassesarearequirementforstayingsane.”

“Areyougoingtogetmedrunk?”Iask.“Tomakemetalk?”
“I’mgoingtohaveadrinkwithyou,yes,”Westsays,stillconcentratingonthedrinks.“AndI’m

surewe’lldosometalking.ButIdidn’tbringyouuphereforalecture,Tori.Ijustneedtogetthe
fuckawayfromthemforaminute.OK?Ijustneedadrink,andabeautifulwoman,andaniceview,
andanofficethatprobablycostmorethanmycartofurnish.Becauseifthey’renotlyingandIjust
losteverything,it’sgonnabeahellofalongtimebeforeIevergettodothisagain.”

Heturnstofacemewithtwoglassesinhishands.Heholdsoneouttome,Itakeit,andthenhe

toucheshistomine,makingtheiceclinkandthecrystalsing.“Tobetterdays,”hesays,andtakesa
drinkwithoutwaitingforme.

“Ididn’tdoit,”Isayagain.Howcanhebesocalm?Howcanhebesotogether?Whyisn’the

angry?

WestgrimacesastheScotchburnsitswaydownhisthroat,thenletsoutabreathandheadsbackto

thedecanterandpoursthedarkliquidbackoverhisrocks.

He’ssmilingwhenhefacesmethesecondtime.“Idon’tcare,Tori.Idon’tcarewhatyoudid.I

don’tevenwanttotalkaboutitrightnow.OK?Ijustwantyoutohaveadrinkwithme.”

Ilookatmyglass,scowling.
Westgulpsdownhissecondandheadsbackformore.
Isigh,decideIprobablyneedthisdrinkmorethanhedoesifwhathappenedovertheweekendwas

myfault,andlettheentirethingslidedownmythroat.

Itburnslikefuck.Mythroatisfire,mystomachiswarm,andwhenIexhale,Ifeelbetter.
Westissmiling.
Ismileback.“It’sgood.”
“Haveanotherone,”hesays,takingmyglass,refillingit,andgivingitback.
“You’retryingtogetmedrunk.You’rehopingwhateveritisIknowwillcomepouringoutwith

thatbottle.”

“Iwouldn’tmindit,Tori,butIjusttoldyouwhyI’mdoingthis.IfIlostitall,Iwantonelast

chanceatenjoyingit.”

“Tobetterdays,”Isay,touchingmyglasstohis.
“Wecouldprobablybothusesomeofthose.”
Wedrinktogetherthistime.
Allthewaydown.Onelonggulpofconfidenceandsympathyintheformofadrink.AndthenIset

theemptyglassdownonthedeskandlookatthemanIlovesomuch,ithurts.Mychestisconstricting
andmyheartisfluttering.AndImightdieifIfindoutIhurtthismanbymistake.

Westwavesmeovertothelongleathercouchontheothersideoftheroom.Isitandhesitsnextto

me.Icrossmylegsandhishandslipsintoplacealongmythigh.

“Icanrebuild,youknow.Sofuckit.Ifhegotmymoneyandmyassets,thenfuckhim.Icanalways

makemore.”

“Who?”Iask.“Whowouldtakeit?”
“Liam,Iguess.HewasneverhappyabouthowIgotawaywithwhathewanted.”
“Thestupidcoins?”Ilaugh.“Thisisreallyaboutthosestupidcoins?”

“They’reworthtwobilliondollarstoday.”
“Theyarenot!”Ilaugh.
“Butthere’saproblem.”Westsmilesasheturnshisheadtolookatme.“Theydon’tbelongtome

anymorethantheybelongedtothepeoplewholosttheminthatwreck.”

“Whatdoyoumean?”
“TheybelongtotheSpanishgovernment.SoifIgetthem—andthat’sabigif,Tori—ifIgetthose

coins,thenIhavetoturnthemovertotheSpanishgovernment.It’stheirhistoricalwealth.Liam
knowsthis,buthe’sgotpeopleintheprivatemarketwhowillbuy.Idon’t.Ican’teversellthose
coins.”

“Youhadalotofmoneysaved,West?Theytookalot?”
“Almostfiftymilliondollars.”
Ican’tevencomprehendfiftymilliondollars.“But…youwereactinglikeyouneededthiscontract

sobad.Why?Whydidyoufightmesohardaboutit?Whynotjustletmehaveit?

Hesmiles,thenlooksatmeandsmilesbigger.“Itwasn’tthecash,IneededVictoria.Itwasthejob.”
“Thatmakesnosense.”
Hejustshrugs.“Itdoesn’tmatteranymore.It’soverandthemoneyisgone.”
“Ididn’ttakeit,”Isayagain.
“Iknow,Tori.Idon’tthinkyoudid.”
Iswallowhardandclosemyeyes.MyheartthumpsinmychestandIrealizemybreathingis

cominginshort,staccatogasps.

“Hey,”Westsays,placinghispalmsflatonmyflushedcheeks.Theyarecoolandstrong.Helooks

meintheeyesandshakeshishead.“Don’t,”hesays.“Don’tdothat.Notoverthis,Tori.Notover
money.Idon’tneedthatmoney.It’sprobablyagoodthingitgotstolenbecauseitwasturningmeinto
someoneIsaidI’dneverbe.AllIwantisyou.Wecanmakemoremoney.AllIwantisyou.”

We’resilentafterthat.Everythingthathashappenedthesepastfewdaysisrollingaroundinmy

headsomuch,Ifeeldizzy.

Nowwhat?WhatdoIdo?I’mgonnalosehim,Icanfeelit.He’ssayingthisstuffnow,butoncehe

findsoutwhatIdid…

I’mgoingtolosehim.
AndifIlosehim,andmybusiness,andscrewupmyfather ’slegacy…what’sleftforme?
IfeellikeIshouldfightagainstthisfate.IfeellikeIneedtocomeoutswinging.Ifeellikethisis

mylastchancetokeepsomething—theonlythingIcankeep—ofthisveryfuckeduplifeI’vebeen
given.

West.
He’sthelastthingIhaveleft.
Sonowit’smyturntotalk.
“Igotaphonecall,West.That’showIknewaboutWallaceArlingtonandLiam’scontract.Igota

phonecallfromsomeguywhorefusedtogiveanameandhetoldmetocontactLiamandtellhim
nottohireyouyet,becauseIcouldgetWallaceonboardandyoucouldn’t.”

“Idon’tcare,”Westsays,kissingmylips.It’ssuchasoft,gentletouch.Hewasalwaysgentlewith

me,eventhoughIwaswildandroughwithhim.“AndIdon’tevenneedtoknowtherest.”

“Ineedtotellyoutherest.Ithinkyourfriendsareright.Ithinkwe’reconnectedinmorewaysthan

weknow.HetoldmethatifIgotyououtoftownforawhile,he’dpayoffallmydebt.Mymortgage,
mycreditcards.Allofit.”

Westissilentforafewseconds.I’msurehe’sgoingtogetup,walkoutthedoor,gotellhis

friends,andneverspeaktomeagain.

Buthedoesn’t.

Hesays,“Idon’tunderstandhowyougotintosomuchdebt.Youhadwhat,sevenmilliondollars

fromthatFullertoncontract?How,Tori?Howdidthathappen?”

“Itwassuchastupidmistake,Weston.You’regoingtobesomadatme.”
“No,”hesays,kissingmylipsagain.“Iwon’t,Ipromise.Weallmakemistakes.”
“Butit’ssodumb.Iboughtthatbuildingfortenmillionbackwhenthehousingcrashhappened.It

wasworthatleasttwelvejustafewyearsbefore.SoIhadsomeinstantequitywithmydownpayment.
Itwasagoodinvestment.ButIwenttomakethefirstmortgagepaymentandIenteredthenumbers
wrong.Insteadoffiftythousand,Ienteredfivemillion.AndIdidn’tevennotice.SothenIhadall
sevenmilliontiedupinthisbuilding.Icouldn’tevenpaymytaxesthenextyear.Ihadtotakeoutan
equityloan.Anditjustallspiraledoutofcontrol.Ilostallcontrol.”

“Fuck.Howthehelldoyouwriteacheckforfivemillioninsteadoffiftythousand,Tori?”
“Onlinebillpay?”Ilaugh.Ihavetolaugh.It’ssofuckingsadIhavetolaugh.“Ijustdon’tknow

howithappened.”

“Doyouthink…”Hestops,shakeshisheadalittle.“It’sstupid,but…doyouthinksomeonefucked

upyourpaymentonpurpose?”

“Whowoulddothat?”
“Idunno,”Westsays.“Maybeajealousmobboyfriend?”
“Hewasn’tmyboyfriend,”Isnap.
“Sorry,Iknowthat.Ijustdon’thaveanotherlabelforhim.”
“Abuser,”Isay.“Youcancallhimmyex-abuser.”
“OK,”Westsays.“Him.Doyouthinkitwashim?”
Iwanttosayno.Iwanttosayhe’sbeenoutofmylifefortoomanyyearstocarewhatI’mdoing.I

wanttosayIgotawayandthepastisinthepast.

ButIcan’t.
SoIsay,“Yes,”instead.“Ihavealwaysthoughtitwashim.AndIthinkhewastheonewhosetme

upwiththeLiamcontracttoo.Ithinkallofthisgoesbacktome,Weston.Notyou.Therape,the
island,everything.It’sallmyfault.”

ChapterForty-Two-Weston

WeholdhandsonthewaybackdowntothelivingroomwhereFive,Oliver,andPaxaresittingat

thebar,drinkingastheywatchtelevisedhorseracingontheflatscreenTV.

Theyallstoptalkingandlookatuswhenwecometowardsthem.
“Ithinkwehaveaproblem,”Isay.TorisqueezesmyhandandIsqueezehersback.Hersqueeze

says,No,please,don’ttellthem.Mysqueezesays,Trustme.

Shestandsstillbymyside,foronceinherlifetakingmypromiseatfacevalue.
Iwanttokissherrightnow.Iwanttokissherlong,anddeep,andsoftly.Sosoftly,shewillmelt

intomyarmsandwewillfloatintosomeotherlifewhereshitisnothittingthefanandpeoplearenot
tryingtokillus.

Butthathastowait.
Sowetellherstoryagain.Together.
Fivestopsusatthephonecallatherwork,asking,“Whowasit?Didyourecognizethevoice?”
“No,”Torianswers.“Buthesoundedyoung.Ourage.IthinkitwasoneofLucio’smen.”
Fivewalksovertoabriefcase,pullsoutalaptop,opensituponthebar,andstartstyping.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Iask.
“Checkingherphonerecordsforthatday.”
“Goon,”Paxsays,unabletokeeptheimpatienceoutofhisvoice.
“Hesaidhe’dgivemeafairchanceatthatcontracttorebuildmybusinessandhe’dpaymydebt

off.AllIhadtodowaskeepWestbusyforacoupledays.”

“Sotheycouldrobhim,”Oliversays.
Sheshrugs.
“It’snotyourfault,Tori,”Isay.“Thepartyouguysneedtoknow,thepartInevertoldyoubecause

Fiveinsistedwenotsharestories,iswhat’simportanthere.”

“What’sthat?”Oliverasks.“Whatthefuckareyoutalkingabout?”
“Isawher,”Torisays.“Iwastherethatnightshesaidshewasraped,youguys.Iwasstandingin

thetreesinthebackofthehouse.Itwasdarkthatnight,remember?Sonoonecouldseeme.Iwas
freakedoutbecausemy…rapist…”Istoptalkingandshakemyhead,drawinginabreathlikeoxygen
containsthecourageIneed.“SoIwashiding.JustwaitingforWesttocomeoutsidesoIcouldsee
him.”

IttakesalotofcourageforToritousethatwordinfrontofmyfriends.Somuchfuckingcourage.

Ipullherintighterandgiveherahug.

“Luciowaslookingforme.Heattackedmethenightbeforeyouguyswereaccused.AndIhavea

feelingheistheonewhosetyouup.IknowWestonnevertouchedthatgirl.Shewasdrunkbythat
time,butIsawtheentireinteraction.Westwaswithsomebuddiesoutback.Theyweredrinkingand
laughing.ThentheywentinsideandIwasjustabouttomakemyselfknownwhenshecamestumbling
up.ShehadherhandsalloverWest,buthepushedherawayandaskedherifsheneededacabhome.
Shetookaswingathim,missed,andfelldown.That’swhenIcameoutoftheshadows,andwewent
uptohisroom.”

“Youknewthis?”Paxasks,lookingatme.
“Thiswasmystory.Ialwayshadawitness.Iwasneverworriedaboutit.ButFivetoldustoshutthe

fuckup,soIshutthefuckup.”

EveryonelooksoveratFive,whoisstilltypingaway.“Keepgoing,”hesays,withouttakinghis

eyesoffhisscreen.“I’mlistening.”

“Itwashim,”Torisays.“ItwasLucioGoriJuniorwhosetyouguysup.ItwasLucioGoriJunior

whorapedme,overandoverasachild.AndifIhadtoguess,I’dsayitwasLucioGori’sfriendwho
calledmeandofferedmethatcontract.”

“Bingo,”Fivesays,spinninghislaptoparound.“ThatcallcamefromabarownedbyLucioGori

Senior.”

“Thatmotherfuckersetusup,”Paxsays.“I’mgonnakillhim.I’mgonnafuckingkillthatasshole.”
“No,”Fivesays.“No,we’renotkillinghim.Thelastthingweneedisthemobonourasses.And

wedon’thaveanyevidence,otherthanTori’sstory,thatanyofthemwereinvolvedintherape
accusations.”

“Thenweneedtogetthatevidence,”Paxsays,walkingtowardsus.“Iwantmyfuckingname

cleared,doyouunderstandme?”

He’slookingatTorilikethisisallherfault.
“Hey,”Isay,puttingmyhandupinfrontofPax’sface.“Shedidn’tsmearyourname.ThatLucio

assholedid.”

“Itdoesn’tmatter.She’stheonewhocangettheevidenceweneed.She’stheonewhocangetclose

tohim.Notus,”Paxsays.

“She’snotdoinganything,Pax,sobackthefuckoff.Anddon’tgivemethis‘I’minnocent’bullshit

again.Weallknowyou’renotinnocent.”

“Fuckyou,”heroars.“Youdon’tknowshit.”
“Iknowyou’reonetwisteddude.”
“Fuck—”
“Hey,”Oliversays,comingbetweenus.“Knockitoff,Pax.Justcalmthefuckdownandletus

figurethisout.”

“Whatweneed,”Fivesays,headburiedinhiscomputeragain,“issomeincriminatingevidence.

Somethingtotiehimtothewholerapethingtenyearsago.Somethingconcrete.Something
irrefutable.Somethingthatwouldstandupincourt.”

“Somethinglike…aconfession?”Toriasks.
Weallturntolookather.
“Yeah,”Oliversays.“Somethinglikethat.”
Shebitesherlip,likeshewantstosaymore,andwhenIlookatPaxandOliver ’sfaces,Irealize

whatthey’reconsidering.

“Fuckyouboth,”Isay.“She’snotgonnabethebait.”
“Howwouldyougetaconfession?”Fiveasks,walkingawayfromhiscomputerandtowardsus.

“Itwastenyearsago.”

“She’snotgonnagetanything,”Isayagain,onlylouder.“Tori,you’renotdoingthis.”
“Ithinkhe’sjustarrogantenoughtotellmethetruth,”Torisays.
“Stopit,Victoria.”IlookoveratPaxandOliver.“She’snotparticipatinginthiscon,you

assholes.”

“WhatifIgohometoBrooklyn,lethimknowI’mthere?Keephiminsomepublicplace.Andthen

starttellinghimallthesethingsaboutyouguysthatmightleadhimon.Makehimtalk?”

“Whythefuckareyouignoringme?”IgrabToribyherarmandmakeherfaceme.“Stopit.

You’renotgoingnearthatguyeveragain.Idon’tcarewhatkindofconfessionhemightgiveup.”

Torilooksmeintheeyes,thenturnsawayandresumestalkingtoFive,Oliver,andPax.“WhatifI

gethimtoadmitwhathedid?Andgetitontape.Thenyouhavemefirst-handwitnessingthatgirl

comingontoWestontenyearsago,andLucio’sconfession.That’smorethanenoughtochargehim
withwhatever.”Shelooksupatme,likeshe’sjustrememberingI’mhere.“Whatkindofcharges
couldwegethimon,Weston?Ifheplannedallthattenyearsago?”

“We’renotdoingthis,”Isay,tryingtoremaincalm.“You’renotdoingthis.Itwasn’tevenLucio

—”IstopbeforeIsaytoomuch.Everyoneistalkingatthesametime,puttingintheiropinions,Tori
arguingthatsheknowsthatneighborhood,andhim.Paxyellingabouthisstupidreputation.Somy
blundergoesunnoticed.

“Felonyobstruction,”Fivesays,answeringTori’squestiononcethingscalmdown.“Conspiracy,

maybeblackmail.Ifwefindmorepeopleinvolved.”

“Tori,please.Listentome.I’mnotgoingtoletyoudothis.”
Torystaysquietforafewmoments.IlookatPax,andOliver,whoarebothrefusingtomeetmy

gaze.Thensheturnstomeandsays,“Youdon’tgettomakethisdecision,West.Iloveyou,andIwant
tobewithyou.Butwehavethesethings,”shesays,“hangingoverourheads.AndIcan’tlivemylife
waitingforhimtocomebackandhurtme.Andyoucan’tliveyourlifewaitingforsomeonetopop
backupandtrytonailthisrapethingonyouagain.Andbeforeyousay,Whocares,Ididn’tdoit—it
doesn’tmatter.Ifyou’reateam,”shesays,wavingherhandatmyfriends,“thenyoustayateam.”She
turnsbacktotheguysandsays,“Ithastobedone.AndI’mtheonlyonewhocandoit.Itjusthastobe
done.”

“He’snevergoingtoconfess,Victoria.Never.He’snotstupid.He’sthesonofamajormobboss.

Youwon’tbehuntinghim.He’llbehuntingyou.”

“Well,”shesays,turningawayfrommeandtowardsmyfriends,“thenIguessIbettergetsome

pointersfromMr.Mysterioushere.”Shelooksmedeadintheeyesforherfinalwords.“BecauseI’m
tiredofbeingafraid.I’mtiredoflettingthememoryofwhathedidhauntme.I’mtiredofrunning,
WestonConrad.Andyouofallpeopleshouldunderstandhowthatfeels.”

“Ido,”Isay.“Ifuckingdo.Butwedon’tevenknowhowthisfitsintotheplotwithLiam.Maybeit’s

nothing.DiditeveroccurtoyouthatLiamwastheonewhosetusup?”

“Corporate’sright,”Fivesays.“ItcouldbeLiam.”
“Butwait.”OliverturnstolookatFive.“Wehavetofollowthetrailfromtheorigin.Andtheonly

originwehaverightnowisLucioGori.WeshouldgowithVictoria’splan.Andweshoulddoit
now.”

“Fuckyou,”IspitatOliver.“Justfuckyou.TheoriginisLiam,asshole.Liamistheoneeveryone

isconnectedto.AndhowmuchyouwannabetLiamandtheGorifamilyareoldfriends.You’renot
callingtheshotshere,Oliver.WeshouldgoafterLiamfirst.WeallagreedtolistentoFivetenyears
ago,solet’sagreetothatnow.”

“You’reonlysayingthatbecausehedoesn’tlikeherplan,”Paxsays.
“So?He’sthefuckinggenius,right?WeshouldlistentoFive.”
“Whatthehelliswrongwithyou?”Torisnaps,yankingherarmoutofmygrip.“Howmanytimes

doIhavetomakethisclear,Corporate?I’mnotyourproperty.Youdon’tdictatemyactions.You’re
notallowedtodiscountmyopinions.”Sheliftsherchinupindefiance.“You’renotcallingmyshots,
Corporate.I’mcallingmyshots.I’mdoingthisforme.Notyourfriends,me.IwantLuciogoneandI
wanttobethepersonwhoputshimaway.Thisismyfight,sostaythefuckoutofit.”

Sheturnsandwalkstowardsthefrontdoor.
IwinceastheglassdoorsslamshutandthenlookoveratFive.“It’syourcall.Youletmeknow.

ButI’llmakethisveryclearrightnow.Ifyousayyes,andshegetshurt,Iwillfuckyouup.”

ChapterForty-Three-Victoria

WhydoeshehavetoassumeI’mgoingtogethurt?Iamatleastasdangerousasheclaimstobe.

Heknowsthis.Icanhandlemyself.Icanprotectmyself.I’veworkedmyassoffforfifteenyearsto
gettothispointandifyouaskme,thisislikeGodtellingmeit’smyturn.It’sfinallymyturntoshow
LucioGorithathe’snotinchargeofme.ThatI’mnotafraidofhimandhisthreats.Thathehasno
powerovermeanymore.ThatIwillfightbackandIwillkickhisass.

“Kickhisass,”Isayoutloudtonobody.
“I’msureyoucould.”
IwhirlaroundtofindWestonstandingjustoutsidethefrontdoors.“Yousaythat,WestonConrad,

butyoudon’tmeanit.”

“Victoria.”Hecomesuptomeandplacesbothhandsonmyshoulders,givesthemalittlesqueeze.

Heleansdownintomyneck.“It’sjust…”hesays,hiswarmwordsticklingmyear.“Somethinglike
thiscan’tbepredicted.You’reafighter.Iknowthat.You’retough,andstrong,andprobablyvery
deadly.Butyoucannotpredicthimorhisreaction.Andafewadvancedjujitsumoveswillnever
changethefactthathewillprobablyhaveagun.Thathecouldshootyoudead.Andifthathappens,I
willdietoo,Tori.Iwilldiegettingrevengeonhim.BecausenowthatIhaveyoubackI’mnotletting
yougo.Iwon’tletyoudothis.Iwilltieyouupandgotakecareofhimmyselfifyoutry.”

Iwhirlaround,soangry.Sopissedoffthathecan’tseewhosefightthisis.“Youhavenoideathe

fearIhadofhimallgrowingup.YouhavenoideahowmanynightsIstilllieawakeatnight,
wonderingifhe’sforgottenmeorifhe’scomingback.Ineedhimtobegone,West.”

“Letmedoit,Tori.Please,justletmedoit.”
“Andifyougethurt?”Iask,shakingmyhead.“IfyougethurtdoingwhatIshould’vedonealong

timeago?No.No,Ican’tlivewiththateither.”

“Thenlettheguystakecareofit.We’llsitthisoutandletMysteriousworkhismagic.LetFivedo

histhing.Youdon’thavetobetheonewhoendsittomakeitend.”

ThedooropensandwebothlookuptoseeFivestandinginthedoorway.
“Choosecarefully,”Westsays.“I’mnotfuckingkidding,man.Donotmakethischoicelightly.”
FivestaresatWestforamoment,thenshiftshisgazetome.HowIeverthoughtofhimasVladthe

pilotisbeyondme.He’sonehellofanactor,becausethatpersonaissofarawayfromthisserious
maninblackstandingbeforeme,it’sscary.

“Ithinkweshouldtakeanighttosleeponit,Weston.”
Iexhale,readytoblurtoutallthereasonswhyIamtherightpersonforthisjob.ButWestsqueezes

myshouldersagainandsays,“I’mtakinghertomyhouseinLA.Weneedtohaveanightalone.With
nohurricane,ormercenaries,oranyofthisfucked-upshithangingoverus.Someetusthereinthe
morningandwe’lldecide.”

IexpectafightfromFive,buthejustnodshishead,reachesintohispocket,andthrowsWestsome

keys.“Youcantakemycar.Mysteriouscandriveusup.Butbereadyatdawn.I’llhaveMatchsetup
thejettopickusupfromBurbanknearyourhouse.Itdoesn’tmatterwhowegoafter.TheGoriguy
orLiam.BothofthemareontheEastCoast,sothat’swhereweneedtobe.Andweneedtomovefast.
Beforethey’reontous.Beforetheyrealizewe’reontothem.”

WestandsilentasFiveretreats,andthenIturntoWestandslidemyarmsintohissuitcoat.The

musclesofhiswaistarerockhardandhisshirtissuper-soft.Igrabholdofthefabricandplacemy
cheekonhisshoulder.

“Onenight,Tori.Inmyhouse.Withnothingbetweenus.Nolies,nosecrets,nocourtcases,no

hate.Justus,justthetruth,justtheloveIknowwefeelforeachother.Ineedthatrightnow.”Hesighs.
“Ijustreallyneedthatrightnow.”

“OK,”Isay.Idon’tknowhowwecanjustputallthisdramaaside,butIagree.Ineedto

decompress.Ineedtofeelsafeandloved.SoIsayitagain.“OK.Let’sgo.Let’sgetthefuckoutof
hereandjustforgetforanight.”

Wedriveallevening.Westtalksaboutanythingandeverythingexceptwhatreallyneedstobe

discussed.ButIgiveinabouthalfwaythroughthetripandjustsettle.Ilisten,andwelaughabout
things.Andtalkaboutthings.AndIthinkithitsbothofus,somewherenearDisneyland,thatwe’ve
missedsomanymomentsovertheyearsbecausewe’vebeentoobusyfighting.Toobusylookingfor
whatwewantandnotbeinggratefulforwhatwehave.

Hetalksaboutbusinessandhisgrandplantoexpandglobally.Howhewantstosetupshopinall

kindsofplacesI’veneverbeento,likeRussia,andJapan,andFrance.Placeshe’salreadyseen.He’s
familiarwith.PlacesIhaven’tevenhadtimetodreamabout,letalonevisit.

AndItalkaboutthekidsatthehouse.AndwhenItellhimaboutoneboyI’vetakenalikingto—

Ethan,aboyI’vebeenthinkingaboutadoptingasmyown—hegoessilent.JustlikeIdidwhenhetold
meabouthistravels.

HewantsafamilyandI’mabouttogetonewithouthim.
“Youdon’treallyneedme,doyou?”
“What?”Iask,asthedarknessovertakesusandthecitylightsturnallthisuglytrafficandurban

decayintosomethingbeautiful.

“Youdon’tneedme.”
“Whydoyousaythat?Imean,Iloveyou,Weston.Ihavealwayslovedyou.BeforeIevenknew

youwerehandsome.Imetyouinthedarkwhenyouwerecrashing.Ididn’tknowyouhadmoney,or
goodlooks,orgrandaspirations.ButIknew,thatnightwhenweweresittingunderthosetrees,thatI
wasgoingtoloveyou.Thatyouwouldbemybestfriendforever.AndwhenitstartedfallingapartI
usedtocry,youknow.JustcryabouthowlonelyIwouldbewhenyoufinallymovedon.Whenyou
gottiredofme.”

“Tori,”hesays,reachingformyhand.“Ijustwanttogiveyouabetterlife.That’sall.Idon’twant

tocaptureyourheart,Iwantyoutohanditover.”

“Butyouneveraskedwhatabetterversionofmylifewas.Youneveraskedmeanythingbackthen.

Youwantedafamily.OK,Idotoo.ButIhaveadifferentvisionofwhatfamilymeans,West.”

“Iknowthat,”hesays.“Imean,IguessIdidn’tthen.ButIrealizeitnow.I’mjustsotiredof

hearingyousaynotomyhelp.Whycan’tyoujustacceptitwithgrace?Justsay,‘Thankyou,West.I
neededthatrightnow.’Andletitgo?Nothavemyhelpbeanassaultonyourindependence?”

“Idon’twanttostayhomewithkids,West.”
“Howcanyousaythat?Yourdream,fromwhatIcantell,isnothingbutstayinghomewithkids.

Justnotyourkids.Sowhere’sthelogicinthat?Tellme.Please.I’mdyingtoknow,Tori.Becauseit
makesnosense.Itmakesabsolutelynosensethatyouwanttohavethishomeforneglectedkidsand
youdon’twanttohaveahomeforyourownkids.Ifyoudon’twantkids,OK.I’mnothappyabout
that.ButOK.Icandeal.Icandealwithadoptionifthat’syourpathandyoucan’tstrayfromit.But
don’ttellmenojustbecauseyouthinkI’msomekindofwoman-hatingasshole.Idon’thatewomen.I

don’thateyou,forfuck’ssake.Ijustwanttoprovideforyou,that’sall.Iwanttogiveyouthelifemy
fathernevergavemymother.IwantyoutohavethefamilyIneverdid.”

“Don’tyouseetheironyinthat?Youwereadopted.Itwasillegal,andI’llneverlookatyour

parentsthesameagain.Butyouwereadopted.”

“I’mallforadoption,”hesays,soundingexasperated.“Iam.Butifthat’syouronlyoption,then

sayso.Ifyoudon’twanttohavemychildren,saysoandwecanstartfromthere.”

Iletoutaheavy,tiredsigh.“Idon’twanttofightwithyou.”
“Idon’twanttofightwithyoueither.Iwanttotakeyouhome,carryyouupthestairs,layyou

downonmybed,andmakelovetoyoualldamnnight.Everynight,Tori.Everynightfortherestof
ourlives.Whyisthatforbidden?”

“Ijustwantyoutoask—”
“Ask?”hesays,hisvoicerising.“I’veaskedyoutomarrymesixfuckingtimes.I’vegottendown

onmykneesixtimes.I’veaskedoverdinner.I’vebakedthefuckingringinacake.I’vedoneiton
Valentine’sDayandChristmasEve.IdiditoveraromanticweekendawayandI’vedoneitwhilewe
werecookingramennoodlesinthatcrappy-assapartmentinNewYork.HowmanyotherwayscanI
doit?”

“No.”Ilaugh.
“It’snotfunny,Victoria.Doyouhaveanyideahowmuchithurtstohavethewomanyouloveturn

youdownformarriagesixtimes?”

“I’mnotlaughing.Iswear.”He’shurt.Icantell.He’shurtandhehaseveryrighttobe.
“Imean,IguessIgetitnow.YouhadLucioGorihangingoveryourhead.Youwerelookingover

yourshoulder.Butwe’regoingtotakecareofhim,Tori.We,”hestresses,“willtakecareofhim.Me
andMatch,andMysterious,andFive.Us.Notyou,dammit.Notyou.”

Ifallsilent.Tryingtoputitintowords.
“Saysomething,”hesays,so,so,soreadyformetogivein.“Anything.”
“I’mjusttryingtofigureoutwhyIsaidno,that’sall.”
“Doyouhaveananswer?Wasithim?”
“No,”Isay,thencorrectmyselfquickly.“No,notreallyhim.Or…notjusthim.It’s…hardto

explain.Whenyouaskeditfeltlikeitcomeswithsomanyexpectations.Mostlychanges.AndI’mjust
beinghonestwhenIsayIwasn’tsureifIwasonboardwiththosechanges.”

“Soyoudon’twanttogetmarried?”
“I…might.”
“Might?”hesays,lookingoveratmewithascowl.
“West,whenyouwereasking,itneverfeltlikeyouwereasking.Itfeltlikeitwasexpected.Myyes

answerwasexpected.”

“Fuck.”Helaughsashegetsoffthefreewayandheadsuptowardssomehills.“Itneverfelt

expectedtome.UnlessyoucountallthewaysIimaginedyousayingnoandthenIwentaheadand
askedanyway.”

“I’msorry,”Isay.AndIam.“Ineverwantedtohurtyou.Ijustneededtofeellikewewereentering

thisnewrelationshipaspartners.Notashusbandandwife.”

“WhatelsecanIcallitthen?”heasks.“Huh?Ifyoudon’tlikehusbandandwife,justpicktwo

moretitlesandI’monboard.Wecanbecatanddogifyouwant.Idon’tgiveafuckwhatyoucallus.”

“That’snotwhatImeant.”
“Thenexplain.Please.Becausefrommyend,Tori,itlookslikeyou’resayingnojusttobeonthe

safeside.YouthinkImightmowyoudown.OK,Igetit.ButIpromise,Idon’twantthat.Andafter
thatlasttimeIcametotheconclusionyoujustliketohearyourselfsayno.Noisyoursafeword,
VictoriaArias.No,no,no,no,no.Ifyousayno,you’resafe.Isn’tthatright?”

Iwanttodismisshimimmediatelyandsayno.But…that’sstupid.Becausehemighthaveapoint.“I

sayyesalottoo,youknow.”

“Yeah,”hesays,sadnesscreepingintohisvoiceashepullsuptoaguardhouseinfrontofagated

community.“Yousayyesalotwhenitcomestosex.ButIdon’tonlywantyourbody,Victoria.Iwant
yourheart.AndIjustcan’tseemtocaptureit.It’ssomethingveryelusiveandIjustdon’thavethe
rightequipment,orlure,orwhateveritisyouwant.”Heletsoutalong,tiredbreathofair.

BeforeIcananswerhetabsthewindowanditslidesdown,whereaserious-lookingmaninadark

blueuniformispeeringinside.

“Oh,hey,West.Haven’tseenyouinawhile.Gotanewcar,huh?”
“Nah,it’smyfriend’scar.JustgotinfromtheBahamas.Reallytired,sosorryIcan’tstayand

chat.”

Thesecurityguygiveshimalittlesaluteandsays,“Noproblem,”ashetalksintotheradio

attachedtohisshoulder.Thegateopensandhewavesusforwards.

Westcallsout,“Thanks,”asheslidesthewindowupagain.
“That’ssomeserioussecurityyou’vegothere,”Isay.
“Yeah,well.Ifwehadkids,Iwantedthemtobesafeinthiscity.Iwantedallofustofeelsafeinthis

city,Tori.That’sall.AndIhadthemoney,sowhynot?Althoughwhatwillhappentothishouseif
theyreallydidstealitallawayisathoughtforanotherday.”

Ipoutalittleatallthat.He’sbeenplanningourfuturethiswholetime?“Kidswithme?”Iask,just

tobeclear.

“Whoelse,Victoria?It’snotlikeIdatemuch.Andbelieveme,I’llneveraskanotherwomanto

marryme.Ever.It’syouorI’mgonnabealonefortherestofmylife.Ican’tfakeit.NotafterIfound
therealthingandlost.”

Wearesilentashenavigateshiswaythroughthecommunity,theonlysoundanoccasionaljet

takingofffromthenearbyairport.ThatmustbeBurbank.Andwiththatthoughteverythingthat
happenedearliercomesrushingback.

WearegoingtoNewYorktomorrowontheMisterjet.Andonewayoranother,LucioGoriwill

beconfronted.ShouldIletWesthavehisway?Justonce?Woulditkillmetojustlethimcallthe
shots?

HepullsintoadrivewaywhereawhiteTudor-stylehouseiselegantlylitup.Thespotlights

highlightthetalltwo-storyfrontwindowsandtheperfectlyplacedpalmtrees.There’sashimmeron
thesideofthehousethattellsmeanequallyperfectswimmingpooliswaitinginback.Andwhen
Westgetsoutandcomesaroundtomysidetoopenmydoor,Ihaveasickfeelingofregretinthepit
ofmystomach.

WasIwrongtosayno?
No.That’snotwhatI’maskingmyselfatall.
I’maskingmyselfifthisrelationshipcanbesaved.Somehow,someway.Canwesalvage

somethingandfindafuturetogether?

Iwaswrongtosayno.
Heis,andhasalwaysbeen,theperfectmanforme.

ChapterForty-Four-Weston

I’mnervousasIopenthefrontdoorandwaveherforward.Why?Why?Somanyreasonswhy.

EverythinginhereisaboutVictoriaArias.Everything.

“Wow,”Torisays,herfingertipslingeringonthewhitelinenfabricupholsteryofthestraight-

backedchairsthatwelcomehertomyhome.“Thisisbeautiful.”

“Thanks,”Isay,droppingmykeysintoaporcelaindishonthesmalltablethatsitsbetweenthe

chairs.“Iwantedamudroom,butthishousedoesn’treallylenditselftooneinthetraditionalsense.
Sothisisit.Justaplacetostopandcheckyourhairbeforeadate.”

“Oh,”Torisays,lookinginthemirrorabovethetableandwincing.“Jesus.Ishouldn’thave

looked.”

“Stop,”Ichideher.Thiswomancan’tlookanythingbutbeautifultomyeyes.Idon’tcareifher

hairisawildmess.Ilikeitthatway.Itremindsmeofbetterdays.DayswhenIhadheralltomyself.
WhenIkneweverynightI’dfallasleeptotherhythmofherbreathingandwakeupcravingthemoans
ofherarousal.

“So…”shesays,turningawayfromthemirrortofaceme.“Doyoucheckyourhairthereoften?”
Ismile.“It’snotforme,silly.It’sforyou.”
“Well.”Shechuckles.“Sorry,Idon’tgetalotofchancestouseit.”
“Hopefullythatwillchangenow.Comein,please.Wantthetour?”
“Yeah,”shesayswithasighasshetakesintheroom.
It’stheeffectIwaslookingforwhenIfurnishedthisplace.
“It’sso…notreallyyou,Corporate.Iwasexpectingsomethinglikeyourfriend’shousebackin

DelMar.Somethingmodernandoverthetop.Butthisplaceis…anythingbutthat.Hey,”shesays,
walkingforwardquicklytowardsthecenteroftheroom.“Isthisisthecoffeetableweboughtatthat
antiquemartinAlbany?”

“Yeah,”Isay.“Theoneandonly.”
“Oh,myGod.Youstillhavethattrunktoo!”Shelaughswithexcitementasshewalksovertoit,and

again,herfingertipstouchitlikeit’ssomethingthatneedstobefelt.“RememberhowmuchIwanted
tousethisforthatpracticehoneymoonwetook?Ha!Thosepeopleonthatislandwould’velaughed
theirheadsoffatme.”

“Iwantedyoutotakeit.”
“Iknow.Ican’ttrustyou.Thatwould’vebeenamistake.”Shesighsagain.“Well,I’mgladyoustill

havesomeofouroldstuff.Gladitdidn’tallgointhetrash.”

“Trash?”Iask.“Trash?Please.Isavedeverything,Tori.Ihaveeverythingweboughttogetherover

theyears.Andifyoulookatmylifecloseenough,you’llfindit’sallstillhere.”

“What?Areyouserious?Jesus,Ithoughtforsureyou’dthrowitallawayafterthatlastbreak-up.”
Itwasanepicbreak-up,that’sforsure.Dishesflewlikecrazy.Stilettoheelsdentedthewallsinthat

oldapartmentwewererenting.Shewassoangrywithme.Iwassofuriouswithher.

Itwasn’tpretty.
“Ifeltalittlesadwhenyouleftitallbehind,tobehonest.”
Torihaspickedupapillowoffthecouch,anotheroneofoursharedtreasures,andshe’spressing

ittohercheektofeelthesoftfabricwhenmywordscomeout.Shelowersthepillowandlooksatme.

“Why?Ifigureditwasbesttoforget,youknow?Ididn’twanttoberemindedofallthewayswe
fuckeditup.”

“Iguesswe’redifferentinyetanotherwayaswell,”Isay,somesadnesscreepingintomyvoice.

“BecauseIneverwantedtoforget.Ionlywantedtoremember.Evenifwehadalotofbadtimes,we
hadalotofgoodonestoo.Momentsworthmakingaremomentsworthremembering.That’swhyI
kepteverything.”

Shesetsthepillowbackdownonthecouchandwandersintothediningroom.“Ibetthishouseisa

fabulousplaceforaparty.Theroomsareallopen.Youcancookandtalktoguestsatthesametime.
Nevermissingoutonthefunandconversation.”

“Orwatchchildrenwhenyoupreparegrilledcheeseandtomatosoupforlunch.”
Shesmiles,hershouldershikingupinashrug.“Orthat.”
“Ihaven’thadanypartieshere,Tori.Ihaven’thadanyonehere.Notevenadate.Noonehas

checkedtheirhairinthatfoyermirrorexceptyou.”

Shecontinuesintothekitchen,whichflowsnaturallyfromthegreatroom.Iwatchher,standing

stillwhereI’mat.Iwatchhertakeinthewhitecabinetsandthedarksoapstonecountertops.That’s
whatshealwayswanted.Shetouchesthestonewiththatsamereverenceasthetrunkandthepillow.

Shecontinueson,glancingatthewhitedishesintheglass-frontcabinets.“Thoseare—”
“Fromtheweddingregistrywedidthatonetimeyouthoughtwewereplayingaround.”
“West,”shesays,turningtofaceme.“Isthis…”
“Allforyou,”Isay,shrugging.“Whatdoyouwantmetosay?I’msorryifit’screepy.ButInever

stoppedhoping,Victoria.Icouldn’tevenimaginealifewhereyouwerenothere.Enjoyingourhome
withme.AndIdidn’tbringyouheretopressureyou,ormakeyoufeelbad,orfillyouwithregret.I
justneedyoutoknowthat…Iloveus.Andifyouthinkweevenhavetheslightestchanceatmaking
thiswork,thenplease,justgiveintome.Ipromisetobecarefulwithyou.Ipromisetogoslow.I
promiseeverything.Ipromisetobepatient,andIpromisetolistentoyou.Iwilldoanything—
whateverittakes—tomakeyoumineforever.Andnopieceofpaperorrehearsedweddingvowis
necessary.Idon’tcareaboutthat.Atall.Iswear,Idon’tcare.Justthinkaboutit.Thinkaboutthe
happinesswecancreateandthentellmewhatyouneedmetodotomakeithappen.Iwilldoit,
Victoria.Ipromise,Iwilldoit.BecauseIloveyou.Iloveyousomuch.”

Itcomesoutlikeawhisper.LikeI’mafraidtosayit.AndIam.I’mafraidthatshewilltakeone

lookatthisplace,callitasickshrine,andtellmetogetonwithmylifeasshewalksout.

Itcouldhappen.Itcouldhappenandshecouldsayitrightnow.
Butbeforeshegetsachance,Isay,“IjustneedyoutoknowthatIamhere.Waiting.Foraslongas

ittakesforyoutobeready.AndI’msorryIneversaiditthatwaybefore.Ihavesomanyregretsfor
thewayweendedourrelationship.Ishould’vebeenabletoarticulateitbefore.ButIguess…Ijust
neverunderstoodwhatyouwanted.Whyyoudidn’twantwhatIwanted.Itwasjustbadtiming,you
know?”

Shewalkson,herfingertipstracingthebackoftheantiquewhitewashedbarstools,unabletostop

herselffromholdingablueandwhitestripeddishtowelhangingofftheovenhandleonthewallnext
toher.Shelooksup,allthewayup,tothewindowsinthecathedralceiling,thenturnstotheFrench
doorsthatopentothebackyard.

OnethingyougetlivinginthisgatedcommunityinBurbankHillsisanice-sizedbackyard.She

alwayswantedoneofthose.Andapool.Anin-groundpool.

It’sfantasticallylituprightnow,thesubtlemovementofthewaterreflectingthelightacrossher

faceinawaythatmakesherlooksurreal.Myfantasy.That’swhatshelookslike.Sheismyfantasy.
AndIcannotbelieveIhaveherstandinginthiskitchenrightnow.

HowmanytimeshaveIimaginedit?

ButthenIforcedthethoughtsoutofmymind.
IguessIneverreallyadmittedtomyselfthatIwasbuildingthishomeforher.ThateverypieceI

boughttofurnishitwaswithherinmind.Butit’sverycleartomenow.

WhatwouldToriwant?
WhatdoesTorilike?
WhatwouldTorisay?
Andlater,afterIhadalreadygivenupthatthiswouldeverbecomeareality,WhatwouldToriwant

metodo?

“Iloveit,”shesays,turningtofaceme.“God,Iloveitsomuch.”
“Icouldloseit,youknow.Iftheyarestealingmylifeaway.Icouldlosethishouse,butIwouldn’t

care,Tori.Notifyouwantedtostartoverwithme.Theycantakewhatevertheywant,aslongasthey
don’ttakeyou.TheonlythingIcareaboutisasecondchanceatwhatweknowwehave.Soplease.
Please,whenwegetonthatplanetomorrowmorning,don’tkeepinsistingthatyoutakepartin
whateverOliver,Pax,andFiveareplanning.Justleaveittous.Becauseifsomethinghappenedtoyou
Iwoulddietoo,Tori.Iwouldnotwanttolive.”

Shehasasad,sadsmileonherface.Butshewalksovertome,slipsherhandsaroundmywaist

andpressesherfaceintomychest.

Ibreatheinherscent.Itouchherlongwildhair,andwhensheliftsherheadupandmeetsmygaze,

hereyesareaswirlofviolet.ThestormweleftbehindisgoneandinsteadIseenothingbutthe
purpleflowerssheremindsmeof.

Awholegardenofflowers.Somethingwehad,andlost,butnowhaveagain.
“Takemeupstairs,”shewhispers.“Iwanttoseemybedroomnow.”
Ireachunderneathher,liftherinmyarms,andwalkusupstairs.Therearefourbedrooms,butthe

onlyonethatmattersistheoneattheendofthehall.

Iplacehergentlyontopoftheking-sizedbedwithoutturningthelighton.Thereisaspotlight

aimedatapalmtreejusttotheleftofthelargepicturewindowoutside.Morethanenoughlightfor
whatI’mabouttodo.Sheisnestedinthethickdowncomforter;herhairissplayedoutononeofthe
manypillowsIhavewaitingforherwearyhead.Herkneescomeupoutofinstinct,wantingtocover
herbarelegsastheshortsundresssettlesbyherhips.

ButIgentlygrabheranklesanddragthemdownthecoolcottonduvetandspreadherlegsatthe

knees.

Icatchasharpintakeofbreath,andmaybeshe’snervous.I’mnervous.EventhoughI’vehadsex

withherseveraltimesinthepastfewdays,I’mnervousbecausethisistheonethatcounts.Thisisthe
onethatsays,Youaremine.Iamyours.Andyouarenevergettingawaybecausewe’reinthistogether
now.

Ireachunderthelightfabricandfindtheelasticofherpanties,pullingthemdownherthighsas

sheliftsherhipsandclosesherkneestohelpmeslidethemallthewaytoherankles.Mytouchisso
light,sheshivers,sendingachillofbumpsupherlegsforamomentbeforeshesighs,relaxes,and
opensherlegsbackupwithoutanyhelpfromme.

“Victoria,”IwhisperasIkissmywayupherbody.Ilingerinsomanyplaces.Istopatherankle,

thenherknee.Shearchesherbackandsighs,herfingersthreadingintomyhair.Icontinue,switching
tothesoftskinontheinsideofherthigh.“Victoria,”Isayagain.

“What?”shebreathesout.“What?”
“Behere,”Isay,reachingunderherasstoliftherhips,bringherpussyinlinewithmymouth.
“Iamhere,”shereplies,hergriponmyhairloosening,herhipsmoving,positioning.
“Stayhere,”Isay,easingmytongueintothesoftfolds.Ilickandshedrawsinalongbreath.“Just

stayherewithmeandIswear,itwillbegood.”

“WestonConrad,”shesays.“I’vealwaysbeenyours.Youshouldknowthat.Ihaveneverbelonged,

willneverbelong,toanyonebutyou.Evenwhenwe’reapart,Iamyoursandonlyyours.Forever.”

Ilickherpussyuntilsheiswrithing.Isqueezeherbreastsuntilshewhimpers.Ikisshermouthlike

I’mhungryandtheonlythingthatcannourishmeisher.Hertaste,herlips,hertongue.

AndthenIeaseintoher,slowly.Justthewayshelikesit.Thereareplentyofwaystohavesexwith

her.Hardandrough,thewayIsometimesprefer.Wecantalkdirty,ornot.Wecangofastornot.We
candoitstanding,intheshower,againstthewall,oroutsideinthepool.Wecanfucksomanyways.

ButtonightImakelovetoher.Love.Softandsweet,justthewayshelikesit.Iknowherheartandit

issoft.Iknowhersoulanditissweet.Iknowher,andIwanthertoknowmetoo.Thisme.Theone
whocaressodeeply,he’swillingtogiveupeverythingfortheonlywomanhewilleverlove.

It’snotanightofmultipleorgasms.It’snotanightofscreamingmyname,ormeshovingmydick

downherthroatsoIcanfeelhermusclescontractasIcome.It’snotevenaboutcoming,togetheror
otherwise.

It’sjustaboutbeingthere.Inthemomentwhenwedecide,yes.Wewillstopallthenosandjustsay

yestoeachother.

Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
IsayitasImoveinsideher.Shesaysitasshedigshernailsintomybackandbitesmyshoulder.

Wesayittogether,justonce.Butonceisallweneed.Onceismorethannothing.Onceisenough.

Ifallasleep,exhausted,spent,andhappierthanIhaveeverbeeninmylife.
VictoriaArias,theloveofmylife,fallsasleep,cradledinmyarms,herheadrestingonmychest.

Ourbreathingismatchedandperfect.Ourloveiscomplete,becausenomatterwhathappens,wehave
thisnight.ThisoneperfectnightwithherinthebedImadeforher.WithherinthehouseIwantto
giveher.Nexttome,WestonConrad,hersoulmate.

ButwhenIwakeup,readytofacethechallengeaheadofus,itallfeelslikeadream.
Becausesheisgone.

ChapterForty-Five-Victoria

Mylegisbouncingasthepilottellsmewe’reabouttolandinNewJersey.Icalculatetheroute

backintoBrooklynfromtheprivateairportanddebatewhetherornotIshouldcallsomeoneand
announcethatI’mcomingbackhome.

No.LetLuciobesurprised.Lethimseemesittingthere,inhisbar,hisdisbelievingeyeswideand

hismindracingwithallthepossiblereasonsImighthavecomeback.

Fuckhim.Fuckhim.That’sallI’vebeenthinkingsincelastnight.Westwassosweetandgenuine.

Soperfect.God,howdidIeverletthisshitgosofar?Whydidn’tIknowthatLuciowastheonewho
setthemup?Whydidn’tIlookintoitatleast?

Fear.
Ihatemyselfrightnow.HatemyselfforlettingLuciocontrolme—evenafterIgotoutofthat

situation,hecontrolledmeinsomanyways.

Thefearofbeingaloneinthedaylight.Fuckthenight,Iwasafraidofthelight.
Itpissesmeoffsobad.
West’sphonevibratedlastnight,justafterwefellasleep,andIcheckedit.ItwasJerry,sayingthe

jetwasallfueledandtheflightplanfiledforNewJerseyatsevenAM.Igotup,waitingtoseeifWest
wouldnotice.Andwhenhedidn’t,Islippedmyclothesbackonandcreptoutofthehouse,snatching
hiskeysfromthefoyeronmyway.BurbankAirportwasonlyafewmilesaway.Itwaslike…meant
tobe.LikefatewastellingmethiswasmyproblemandIneededtosolveitmyself.

“Um,Tori?”Jerryisworried,Icantell.Idon’tthinkWesthasnoticedI’mgoneyet,soIstillhave

timetogetthereandnothaveanyonestopme.Buthe’sgonnaknowsoon.“Areyousureyoudon’t
wantmetohavethepilotradiosomeone?”

“No,Jerry.Please.Ijustneedtogethome.ASAP.”Iliedtohim.ToldhimWestandIgotinahuge

fight,theMisterflightwascanceled,andIjustneededtoleave.Andheboughtit.Godknows,I’ve
usedthesameexcusebefore,whileweweredating.Onlyallthosetimesitwastrueandthistimeit’s
not.

“I’msorrythingsdidn’tworkout.”
Myfacecrumples.Becauseeverythingisworkingout.Andhowisthatfair?Toanyone?Especially

West.HowcouldIpossiblylethimandhisfriendsfightthislastbattleformewhenIwasthereason
theirliveswereruined?Stillam,apparently.

“Youtwoaresorightforeachother,”Jerrysays,noticingmypainedexpression.“Iknowyoucan

workitoutifyoujusttry.Maybetalkthingsthrough?Seewhereyoucan’tcometogether?Andfind
somekindofcompromise?”

Butwedidthat.Mr.Corporatewasstraightwithmelastnight.EverythingI’vebeenwaitingtohear

fromhimcamepouringout.Andnow,theonlythingleftinourwayisthisonelastlooseend.My
looseend.

“Iknow,”ItellJerry.He’salwaysbeensogoodtome.Alwaysbeensounderstanding.Andthisis

notthefirsttimeI’vehijackedtheMisterjetformyownpersonalescape.OnlythistimeI’mnot
runningaway,I’mgoinghometofinishwhatIstarted.

I’mcoming,LucioGori.I’mcomingforyou.I’mgonnasettlethisonceandforall.

ChapterForty-Six-Weston

“Youhavenocontrol,doyou?”MysteriousissittingacrossfrommeinFive’sprivatejetaswetry

toraceVictoriabacktotheEastCoast.He’sdrinkingamintjulep,completewithafewsprigsofmint
leafstickingoutofit,andsomethingaboutthatissowrong.Igethe’sfromKentucky,butwhothe
fuckdrinksmintjuleps?

Idecidetoignorehim.
“Imean,thischick,Corporate.She’sgotyoubytheballs,man.She’sgotusallbytheballs.And

I’lltellyouwhat,Idon’tcareforit.I’mthemasterinmyrelationships.Mywomanwould—”

“Wouldyoushutthefuckup?”Fivesays,fromacrosstheplane.He’sgottheWallStreetJournal

spreadoutinfrontofhim,scanningthefinancialpagelikethisisjustanotherday.

“What?”Mysterioussays.“Don’tgetpissywithme,Rutherford.Thischickisgonnaruin

everything.”

“Usemyrealnameagain,motherfucker,”Fivesays,lookingup,expressionless,“andI’llthrow

yououtofthisjetfromthirtythousandfeet.”

Ihavetohidemysmile.NotmanypeopletalktoPaxtonVancethatway.ButPaxjustshrugsitoff

andsays,“Don’twetyourpanties,Five.Corporate’soneofus.Sowhatifheknowsyourrealname?
AndI’mjustfuckingwithhim,anyway.You’resofuckingserious.”

“Yeah,”Oliversays.He’salsobeendoinghisbesttoignorethefactthatshitisgoingwronginjust

abouteverywayatthemoment.“Whichmeanswecuthimslackwhenheneedsit,Pax.Andheneeds
it,OK?IknowVictoriabetterthanyoudo.SoIknowthere’snostoppingheronceshe’sgotanideain
herhead.Andit’spartlyourfaultforencouragingherlastnight.Soshutthefuckupandchillout.
We’regonnalandlessthananhourbehindher,sowe’vegottime.Five’sgottheaddressesofallthe
Goribusinessesandwe’venarrowedthemdowntotwoorthreepossibleplaceswhereshemight
confronthim.Untilwe’reontheground,justdropit.”

IhavetohandittoOliverShrike.He’salwaysbeenincontrolofhisshit.Maybeitisweirdthathe

neverhasagirlfriend,butwhatever.He’sgoodpeople.Hemusthaveavalidreasonforthat.He’snot
excitable.Infact,OliverandFivehavealotincommonanditoccurstome,maybethey’veknown
eachotherforalongtime.Maybetheyarerelatedorsomething?

“We’veallgotalotatstakehere,soIgetit,”Fivesays,foldinghispaperandpushingitasideto

reachforhiscoffee.“You’reworried.Andyou’renext,right?”

“Whatthefuckisthatsupposedtomean?”Paxasks.
“Well,weknowmorethanwetoldTori,”Fivesays.“Shethinksthisistheendgame.Shereally

thinksLucioGoriistheonewhosetusup.”

FivelooksatmeandIhavenoescape,soIjustshrug.I’mnottellinghimshitunlessIhaveto.And

Idon’thavetoyet.I’mnotconvincedthisisalltiedbacktowhatIsuspect.Besttokeepthatsecret
underthehoodalittlelonger.

“Butit’snottheendgame.NoneofthisLucioshitaddsup,doesitCorporate?”
Ishrugagain.Keepfishingasshole.I’mnotgonnabite.
“Soyou’renext,Mysterious,”Fivesays.“ThenOliver,probably.Luciocannotbeourfinaltarget;

itcan’tbethateasy.Soyoubetterstepyourshitup,son.Andpullyourselftogether.”

“Maybewe’rewrong?”Paxsays,takingaseatacrossfromme.“Maybeit’snotwhowethink.”

Buthedoesn’taskitlikeaquestion.Hedoesn’taskitbecauseheknowshistheoryisweak.Iknow

thisistiedbacktoLiam.TheyknowthisistiedbacktoLiam.Butwhattheydon’tknowishowLiam
gotinvolved.

Idon’tknowthateither.SoIkeepmymouthshutandthinkaboutallthemovingpartsinthis

machine.

Weeachhaveatheory.EvenNolanandMachaveone,butwe’vethrownthoseout.Idon’tthink

Nolan’ssister,Claudette,isthemastermindbehindallthis.Besides,shewasn’taroundbackwhenwe
wereaccusedofrapingthatgirl.Shewasoffcausingtroublesomewhereelse.AndAllen,the
reappearingthorninMac’sside,wasthere.Buthe’sjustnotsmartenoughtopulloffaconlikethis.
Besides,hecould’vegonedownwithus.

Should’vegonedownwithus,Icorrectmyself.
“We’renotwrong,”Oliversays.“It’sdefinitelyLiamcallingtheseshots.He’spissedoffthatWest

stolethattreasure.Andyouknowwhat?Ican’tbelieveI’msayingthatwithastraightface.Whothe
fuckgetscaughtupinsomekindofburiedtreasurescheme?”

He’slookingatmewithanaccusatoryglare.“Hey,”Isay,throwingupmyhands.“Iwasseven

yearsold.Ididn’tasktofindthatshit.”

“Butyouplayedalong,”Fivesays,ourtemporaryalliancegone.
“Iwasseven.Whatkindofseven-year-olddoesn’twishhe’dfindburiedtreasure?”
“YourlifeissomekindofGooniesmoviesequel,Corporate,”Paxsays,smiling.
Ismileback,becausewhatever.We’reallinthistogethernow,likeitornot.We’reateam.
“I’mwaitingforthecoolshittostart.Maybewe’llgettoplaytheboneswithsexualtorture

devices?”

Pax,Oliver,andIalllaugh.FuckingGoonieswasafavoriteinthefrathousewhenwewere

partying.

“Laughitup,youassholes,”Fivesays,openinguphislaptop.“Andyouwon’thavetowaitlong

foryourshittohitthefan,Mysterious.”Fivetakesasipofhiscoffee.“LikeIsaid,you’renext.”

“We’llsee,”Paxmutters,findingaloosethreadonhissuitcoattopick.
Ishrug.“Maybeyou’reright,”ItellPax.“Maybeit’snotLiamandthisLuciofuckwillgetwhat’s

comingandeverythingwillgobacktonormal.”

“Normal?”Oliversays,swivelinginhischairlikeakid.“Idon’tthinktheliveswewereliving

beforeallthisstartedbackupwereanythingI’dcallnormal.”

“Mr.Five,”theflightattendantsaysinasoft,apologeticvoice.“WejustgotwordthattheMisterjet

haslanded.MissAriastookacabfromtheairport.They’vegotatailonher.We’realittleaheadof
schedule,sowe’llbelandinginaboutthirtyminutes.”

“Good,”Fivesays.“Makesurethehelicopterisready.Mysterious,Ihopeyoucanlandthatthingin

Brooklyn.Becauseifnot,Corporatecankisshisgirlfriendgoodbye.Myassociatejustsentmeaslew
ofreportsaboutMr.LucioGori’ssuspectedoffenses.”Fivestopstalkingandlooksstraightatme.
“Doyouwanttoknow?Ornot?”

“Tellme,”Isay,myheartbeatingfasterthanever.“Iwanttoknowjustwhothisfuckis.Iwantto

knowallofitsowhenIkillthatmotherfucker,there’snotadropofremorseinmyblood.”

“Sextraffickingbeingthemostseriousonthislist.Ofcourse,hewasnevercharged,oreven

broughtundersuspicion.Hisfatherhaddeeppocketsandconnectionsthatgobackmorethanfifty
years.AlonzoGori,LucioGoriSenior ’smaternalgrandfather,startedatruckingcompanyin
Brooklynintheearlysixtiesandsincethentheirterritoryhasgrownsteadily.GoriSeniorwasmade
bossin2001,afterhekilledhisownfatherinanargumentregardingonlinegambling.”

Hepausesthere,waitingtoseeifIsayanything.
ButIdon’t.Iknowwhentokeepmymouthshut.

“Sincethen,mostoftheonlinesiteshavebeenshuttered,andbusinessmovedawayfromdrugsand

towardsthesexslavebusinessduetoincreaseddemandinotherburgeoningcrimefamilies,
especiallytheRussians.”

Hestopsagain,butIstaysilent.
“OK,”Fivesays.“Youcankeepyourownconfidenceifyouwant,Corporate.Butthisshitwillall

comeoutintheend.”

“What’sthatsupposedtomean?”Paxsays.Apparentlythisisnewstohim,whichshouldmakeme

feelsmug.Fiveisclearlyhissource.ApparentlyMr.Mysteriousisn’tomnipotent.

“Wecanwait,”Fivesays.“Noone’slifeisonthelineoranything,right?”
“Justgetonwithit,willyou?”Isnap.“IfIhadmoreinfoyouneeded,I’dfillyouin.”
“Right,”Fivesays,lookingbackdownathiscomputer.“Anunnamedgirlgotawayaboutfifteen

yearsago”—FiveglancesatmetomakesureIpickeduponthetimeline,andIhave—“andasting
operationwasputinplacebasedonherprivatetestimonytoajudge.”

“IguesswecansafelyassumethatwasVictoria?”Oliversays.
IignorehimasFivecontinues.“Shedisappearedbeforethetrialandnothingevercameofit,aside

fromrescuingabouthalfadozengirlsfromaslavehouseinBrooklyn.SolookslikeLuciohasbeen
bidinghistime.ButnowthatVictoriaisonherwaybacktoconfronthim,allbetsareoffastohowhe
plansonpayingherback.Sothereyougo,Corporate.Youkeepyoursecrets.Butifsomething
happenstoyourgirlfriend,don’tblameus.”

Iswallowhardastheseriousnessofwhatwe’redoinghitsmeagain.Likeafuckingbricktothe

chest.

“Don’tworry,”Paxsays,leaningovertoclapmeontheshoulder.“She’sgonnabeOK.Wegot

yourback,bro.Nomatterwhat,wegotyourback.”

Ibelievehim,ofcourse.Paxdoesn’tsayshithedoesn’tmean.
Butthere’ssomuchmoregoingonthantheyknow.
Idohavemoresecrets.

ChapterForty-Seven-Victoria

ThemainhubfortheGoricrimefamilyisFlatsTrucking,alargewarehousewithasmallfive-

truckfleetthathasnopurposewhatsoeverotherthantheobviouscovertheyneedfortheirillegal
moneylaundering.IcanremembercopsbeingthereallthetimewhenIwasakid.Iusedtothink,
Finally.TheywillgotojailandIwillneverhavetoseeanyofthemagain.Luciowillbelockedaway
andIwillbesafe.

Buttheywereneverarrested.Theyneverwenttojail.Iwasneversafe.Myadoptedfatherwasthe

onlywhocaredbackthen,andhewasn’teveninthearea.HemadesomekindofdealwithLucioand
tookmefarenoughawaytoletpeopleforget.

“He’sreasonable,”myfathersaidthatday.“Heunderstandswhenhecan’twin.”
Iusedtobelievethat.
No.Wait,Ineverreallybelievedit.Iwantedtothinkmyfatherisall-powerful.Thathewasthe

strongestmanalive.ThathecouldsavemefromanythingbecausehetalkedLucioGoriintoletting
megofifteenyearsago.

Butitwasadealwiththedevil,astheysay.
Sono.Nooneiscleaninthis.NottheGoricrimefamily.Notmyfather.Notme.
Igetdroppedoffaboutthreeblocksawayfromthetruckingcompany.Theydon’thangoutthere

anyway,it’sjustafront.No,IgetdroppedoffatgroundzerofortheGorifamily.

Hederman’sBar.
TherearethreeorfourbarswhereLucioalwaysworkedandhungout.ButHederman’swas

alwayshisfirstchoice.

Soit’smyfirstchoicenow.
Idon’tevenknowwhatI’mdoinghere.Ijustfeeltheneed.Somekindofinternalneedtoconfront

him.TheonlyrecordingdeviceIhaveisacheappay-as-you-gophoneIbought,alongwithafake
leatherpurse,attheairport.Idoubtthesoundqualitywillbegreatinsidemypurse,butIswitchonthe
voicerecorderasIapproachmydestination.

Therearenowindowstolookinfromtheoutside,butthereareplentyofwaysforthemtoseeout

anditstartswiththeCCTVcameramountedatthecornerofthefrontdoor.

Thebarisalwayslocked.Youknock,youwait,theycome,ortheydon’t.Yougoinbyinvitation

only.

Idon’tneedtoknock.Itopensjustasmyknucklesaregrazingtheold,weather-beatenwood.
Amanappearsontheotherside,someoneIhaveneverseenbefore.Young,muscular,frightening.
Hedoesn’taskwhoIamorwhatIwant.That’snothisjob.Hisjobistoopenthedamndoor,so

that’sallhedoes.

Istepintothehazydarkness.Itsmellslikecigarsmokeandstalewhiskey.Therearefourmen

playingpoolintheback,threecoupleshavinglunchinthedarkredboothsalongtheperimeter,and
nosignofLucioJunior.

Istareatthebartender,whoisdoinghisbesttoignoreme,butfailing.Whenhenoticesme

noticinghim,heduckshisheadandbeginswipingdownthebar.

Luciodoesthattopeople.
Scaresthem.

“Violeta,”thesmoothvoicesaysfromthefarsideofthebar.
Thewayhesaysthatnamemakesmystomachclenchinfear.Ihatethatname,Ihatethatname,I

hatethatname.Keepcalm,Itellmyself.Justkeepcalm.

HeknowsIhatethatname.
IlooktofindLucioGoristandingneartheback,holdingopenaredvelvetcurtainthatleadstohis

privateworkarea.

“Victoria,”Isay,withasmuchdefianceasIcanmuster.“MynameisVictoria.”
“Sure,”hemuses,likeI’mnothingbutajoke.“YouwillalwaysbeVioletatome.Butcomeinthe

back,Victoria.Icanadapttoanewname.Let’scatchup,eh?It’sbeenalongtime.”

Iliftmyheadandwalkslowlytowardstheback,eyeingallthemeninthissmallbar.Thinking

aboutallthewaystheycanhurtme.Howquicktheywillbetograbmewithonewordfromtheir
boss.

“Theyknowbetter,mysweet.Don’tevenlookatthem.Theyarenotworthyourattention.Besides,

Ihavesomeoneyouknowbackhere.Andheisveryeagertoseeyouagain.Ihearyou’vehadsome
troublethispastweek?”

Myheartsinks,thinkingofwhohehasinthatbackroom.Itcan’tbeWest.Itcan’tbehim.Thereis

nowayhegotherebeforeme.

“Hurrynow,”Luciosays.“He’suncomfortable.”
JesusChrist.WhydidIcomehere?
“Iknewyou’dcomebackofyourownfreewill,Violeta,”LuciosaysonceI’mwithinarm’sreach.

HebrushesthebackofhishanddownmycheekasIstandinfrontofthehalf-drawncurtain,
hesitating.“Oh,nowisnotthetimetobeafraid,Violeta.Thereisplentyoftimeforthat.”

Iswallowhardandlookhimintheeyes.Thosedarkeyes.Almostblack,justlikehissoul.“I’mnot

afraid,”Isay.“I’mnotafraidofyou,Lucio.”

“Youshouldbe.”AndthenhedrawsthecurtainallthebacksoIcanseewhoiswaitingformein

thebackroom.

Myfatheristiedtoachair,hisfacesobloody,Ibarelyrecognizehim.“Pops!”Irushovertohim,

myhandonhisshoulder,shakinghim.Hedoesn’tmove.“Pops,”Isayagain,softerthistime.“Please.
Answerme.”Buthedoesn’t.Heisoutcold,maybeevendead.Ican’ttell.IwhirlaroundtofaceLucio.
“Whatdidyoudo?”

EverythingIcameheretodofliesoutthewindow.Therewillbenoconfession,Iunderstandthat

now.Westonwasright.Lucioknowshowtohunt.ButWestdoesn’thavetoworry,I’mnotthebait.My
fatheris.

“Hecametome,Tori.”LuciosnarlsthenicknameWestuseslikeit’safilthyword.“Hecametome

askingwhereyouwere.Threatenedme,Victoria.AndIadmit,IhadmydoubtswhenIwaitedso
patientlythesepastfewdaysandyounevercamelookingforhim.Istartedimaginingalltheways
yourlittlerevengeschememightplayout.Ievensentpeopletotrackyoudown,butyoudisappeared
inMiami.Withhim.”

Idon’tneedtoguesswhohe’stalkingabout.“Thatwasyouonthatisland,wasn’tit?Youwerethe

onewhocameandtriedtokillus.”

Luciolaughsloudandlong.“Island?No,mysweetVioleta.Thatwasnotme.ButIwouldhave,”he

says,turninghisheadsohecangivemeasidelongglare.“Iwould’vecometokillMr.CorporateifI
hadknownwherethetwoofyouwere.InsteadItookitoutonyourdearPops.Hetookitwell,Ihave
toadmit.Likethetoughguyheusedtobe.But,well,everyonehasatimeandaplace.Hewon’tbe
abletowalkoutofhere,I’mafraid.Hiskneesarebroken.ButifyougivemewhatIwant,I’lllethim
live.”

Andthen,justtoillustratehispoint,Luciopullsaknifefromhisbootandcutsmyfatherfreefrom

thechair.Heslumpsforward,teeterstotheside,andjust…slides…down,down,downuntilheis
bentinsomeunnaturalpositiononthefloor.

Ihavetoswallowdownthebilethatrisesinmythroat.LucioGoritorturedmyfather.Killedhim.

Theonlymanwhoevertookcareofme.TheonlymanIeverlettakecareofme.

“Iwasgoingtobargainwithyou,youknow.Atfirst.IfiguredI’droughhimupabitandsummon

you.AndwhenyoucameI’dbargainforhislife.Youforhim.I’dkeepyou,thewayitwasalways
meanttobe.Andhe’dwalkaway.But…”Luciolaughsandtskshistongueloudly.“We’rewaypast
thatnow.Youkeptmewaiting.”

“Inevergotasummons,”Isay,myvoiceweakwithterror.TerrorIhaven’texperiencedinten

years.

“Howcouldyou?”hegrowls.“Youwereoutoftown.FuckingthatMr.Corporate.Well,he’snot

goingtobearoundmuchlongereither,Violeta.Youwillendupwithmeintheend.Ruinedand
brokenjustthewayIlikeyou.Butit’stoobadsomanypeoplewilldiebecauseofyourpoor
choices.”

Itakeadeep,deepbreathandtrytogathermyself.He’splayingwithme.Myfatherstartsgasping

forair—he’sstillalive!—whenLuciokickshiminthechestandmakeshimgroan.It’sthehalf-
heartedgroanofanunconsciousman.

“Let’sgoonadate,Violeta.Huh?Justyouandme?”
Idoubleovertryingtostopthesickfromspewingoutofmymouth.
Lucioisthere,takingmyhand,placinganotheroneonmybackashesaysinasoftvoice,“Come

onnow,youalwayslikedourdates,remember?RememberhowIforcedmycockinyourmouth?
HowItookyourbreathaway?”Helaughssoloud,itmakesmejump.

Hefistsmyhairandyanksmyheadbacksohard,Ihearasnapinthemusclesthatrunalongmy

shoulder.Thepainshootsupintomyhead,rightbehindmyeye.AndeventhoughIknowIshouldn’t,
Ireact.Yearsoftrainingandpracticehaveinstilledinstinctsinme.

Myhandreachesaroundhisleg,rightbehindhisankle,andIsqueeze.It’snotaseffectiveasit

couldbeifhedidn’thavebootson.Butittakeshimbysurprise,stunshim,justforamoment,andhe
isoffbalance.Igrabhisfootandyankit,makinghimfall.Ifallontopofhim,andthenhe’syelling.
ThesoundofthumpingbootsechoesinmyheadandIknowIhaveonlyonechancetomakeitoutof
herealiverightnow.

IgrabforthegunIknowhekeepsinthebackofhispantsandtakeitout,franticallysearchingfor

thesafety—findingnone—andpullingthetriggerbeforeIeventhinktwice.

It’sanautomatic,sothreeshotsgooffbeforeIevenrealizewhat’shappening.Peopleareshouting,

Lucioisstruggling,tryingtowrenchthegunfrommyhands.Plasterisfallingfromtheceilingfrom
thewildgunshots.

“Youbitch,”Luciosays,bringinghisfistdownonthebackofmyhead.Iseestarsandthingsbegin

togoblack,butIshakemyhead,theshootingpainbehindmyeyesevenmoreacute.Morepiercing.
Heistryingtogetthegunfrommygrip,butIknow—Iknow—ifhegetsthisgun,Iamneverleaving
thisbar.Myfather,regardlessofhowbadhe’shurt,willneverrecover.

Iwilllose.Luciowillkillme,ortortureme,ortakemeashislittlesexslaveagain.
“No,”Iyell,justasmoreshootingcomesfromtheothersideofthecurtain.
“Oh,yes,”Luciopurrsinmyear.He’salmostoverpoweredme,andeverystupidlittlejujitsumove

I’veeverlearnedfliesrightoutofmyhead.Iamweak.Iamnotsafe.IamnothingbutLucioGori’s
prize.

Ielbowhiminthekidney,makinghimbackaway,justenoughformetokeepthegunfromhis

hand,andIhavenochoice,Idropit,kickitawaysohecan’tgettoit.

Thereisevenmoreshootingoutinthefrontofthebarnow.Bulletscomeblastingthroughthethin

wallsofthebackroom.Abullethitsthechandelieranditcomescrashingdown,notmorethanafew
feetfromwhereLucioandIstillstruggle.

Peoplearescreaming—no,Iamscreaming—butmorepeopletoo.Women,thosewomenwho

werehavinglunch.Men,theonesplayingpool,maybeeventhebartender.Everyoneisscreaming.

AndthenIhearavoice.
Oh,God,no!
“Victoria!”Westcalls.“Canyouhearme?”
“I’vegother,”Luciosays.Andhedoes.Ourbriefstruggleendswhenhethrowsmefacedownon

thehardconcretefloorandstepsonmyneck.

Andtheneverythinghappensatonce.Westappears,throwingthecurtainaside.Luciohasanother

gun,nottheoneIkickedaway,andheshoots.Westdisappearsagain.Luciopressesonthetender
vertebraebetweenmyshouldersandIknow,justalittlemorepressureandmyneckwillsnap.Iwill
dielikethis.Iwilldiehisvictim.

No!
ItwistmybodywhenLuciopullsthetriggerandbreakfree.Igrabhisankleagain,anduseallthe

remainingstrengthIhavetopull…

Luciogoesdown,Westisthere,MysteriousandMatcharethere.Everyonehasagunbutme.
Everyoneisgoingtogettheirchancetokillthisassholebutme.
Irollaway,kickingLuciointheface,makinghislipbleed,makinghisnosegushhot,sticky,

scarlet.

AndIreachforthegunIthrewaway,myfingersfeelingforit.Prayingforit.Don’tletthemhave

thismoment.Don’tletanyonetakethisawayfromme.IwanttokillLucioGorimyself.Iwantataste
ofthatragehehasalwaysfelt.IwanttoharnessallthehateIhaveandbethelastthingheseeswhenI
takehislife.

Ifindthecold,hardsteelofthegunandthen…
Andthen…
Ifeelwarmfingersgraspingmyhand.Iturntolookandfindmyfather,lyingonthedirtyfloor,

coveredincakedbloodandbruisedalmostbeyondrecognition.Hehasmanagedtocrawlovertous
andthere’sasicktrailofcrimsonbehindhim.

Hesays,eyesclosedshutfromalltheswellingandhisvoicelowandweak,“Letme.It’stheonly

thingIwant.Just…let…me…”

InthemomentItaketopauseandfeelsadness,andloss,andregret,andalltheotherthingsthat

cometomindwhenyourfatherisabouttodie…

Hesqueezesmyhand.Thehandthatisholdingthegun.Andpullsthetrigger.
IwatchhelplesslyasLucioGori’sheadexplodes.

ChapterForty-Eight-Weston

Perfect,Romantic,me,Mysterious,andMatchallinthesameroomwithFive.
It’snotagoodfeeling.
Notatall.
Thelasttimethishappenedwewerebeingchargedwithrape.
AfterPopskilledLucio,thewholeplacejustwentcrazy.Wegotthefuckoutofthere.It’smob

territoryandnocopscoming,werecomingtohelp.Mysteriousledusthroughthebackdoor.Ipicked
Toriupandthrewherovermyshoulder.Shewasscreaming.Callingherfather ’sname.ButMatch
pickedhimup,allbrokenandbloody,andtookhimwithustothehelicopterwaitingonaroofafew
blocksaway.

Dozensofpeoplesawus.
Noonetriedtostopus.
“Atleastweknowmorethanwedid,”Perfectsays.Thenheshrugs,becausereally,wedon’t.Add

inthefactthatwedon’tknowwhatAllenwasdoingwhenhestartedfuckingwithPerfect’sgirlfriend,
orwhetherornotRomantic’spsychosiblingwasinonanythingbackthen,nottomentionI’vestill
gotasecretortwoI’mnotreadytotalkaboutand…yeah.

Nothingissettledatall.
Wemightevenbeworseoffthanwewere.
“How’sTori?”Mysteriousasks.He’sbeenweirdsincethatnight.He’sbeatinghimselfupbecause

hedidn’tgetustherejustafewminutesearlier.Justafewminutesearlierandwe’dhaveleftToriout
ofeverythingandtakencareofbusiness.Buthe’sgettingbetternow.Calmingdown.I’vecometothe
conclusionIprefercalm,assholePaxtonVancethanagitated,manicPaxtonVance.He’sgotoneof
thosemintjulepsinhishand.He’ssuckeddownlikesixofthemsincewegothere.

“Good,Ithink.Relieved.Sadaboutherfather.ButIforoneamgladhe’stheonewhopulledthe

triggerandnother.”HediedinaColoradohospitalabouttwodaysafterthatwholethingwentdown.
Fivearrangedthehospital.

FuckingFive.
AndnoonecamelookingforusaboutLucioGoriJunior.
FuckingFiveagain,Ithink.
Toriwasamess.ButI’mjustgrateful—blessed,happy,pleased,thankful…whateveryouwantto

callit—thatitwashimandnother.Iamallofthosethings.It’shorribletothinkthatway,butIdon’t
care.“Oranyofus,”Iadd,lookingaroundtheroom.

Romanticnodsandtakesadeepbreath.
“So?”Matchsays.“What’snext?”
“Me?”Mysterioussays,makinghimselfanewdrink.“Iguess.I’mthenexttarget,right?Theyhad

myevidenceinNolan’shouse.NoonesawitbutmeandRomantic,buthowlongdoyouthinkwe
havetowaituntilwefigureoutforsurethatLucioGoriwasnottheonewhoreallysetusup?Imean,
willwehavetolivewiththishangingoverusfortherestofourlives?”

“Ithink,”Fivesays,leaningupagainstmykitchencounter,“Ithinkwegiveitsometime,seehow

thingsshakeoutafterafewweeks.Maybewhoeveritiswillbehappywithwhattheygot?”Helooks
atme,waitingtoseeifI’lladdanythingtomystory.

ButIdon’t.
Won’t.
ThatshitneedstostaywhereIleftit.Buriedinthepast.
LucioGori’sfamilydidstealmymoney,that’swhatFivewasreferringto.Andit’sgone.For

good.ButImeantwhatItoldTori.Idon’tcare.Wecanstartover.Onceaself-mademan,alwaysa
self-mademan.That’sonethingIlearnedfrommygood-for-nothingrealfather.

Besides,Mysterioushasalreadytransferredthemoneyheowedmeintoanewsetofaccounts.I’m

good.Nomanshouldcomplainthatheonlyhasseveralmillioninthebank.SoIwon’t.

ThelasttimewehadaMistermeetingwasafterallthatshitwentdownwithRomantic.Andit’s

startingtobecomeapattern.Theyfuckwithus,wewin,wesettledown,theycomebackandtryagain.

Iguesswewon’tbeabletosettledown.
“Afewweeks,huh?”PerfectasksFive.
Fiveshrugs.“Giveortake.IfitwasLucio,thenweshouldbefine.Thethreathasbeenneutralized.

WeshouldjuststaythefuckofftheEastCoastforawhile.”

Despitetheseriousnessofthatwarning,weallchuckle.Fuckingmobsters.TheycanhaveNew

York.We’realloutwestnow,anyway.

“Itwasn’tLucio,”Mysterioussays.“Ithinkweallknowitwasn’tLuciowhosetusup.”
Well,IthinkI’mtheonlyoneherewhoknowsforsurewhoitwas.Ididn’tbeforeallthis

happened.Notreally.I’vehadmysuspicionsovertheyears.Butafterthatislandbullshit.Thatwhole
WallaceArlingtoncontract—whichturnedouttobefake.Icalledhimupaftertheshitsettleddown
andhehadnocluewhatIwastalkingabout—Yeah.Itwasn’tLucio.I’mgladhe’sdead.Butitwasn’t
himwhosetusupbackinschool.Nothingaboutthatmakessense.

“Youevergonnagetagirlfriend,Match?”Iask,tryingtochangethesubject.Getthemthinking

aboutsomethingelse.“Imean,forfuck’ssake.Whatkindofmanrunsanonlinedatingsiteand
doesn’tevenusehisownservice?”

“Ifyouheadhuntmeagirl,Corporate,IsweartoGod…”Butwe’realllaughing.
It’sgoodtolaughaboutit.
Whatelsecanyoudo?Letitchangeyou?Letitcontrolyou?Letiteatyouawayfromtheinside

out?

“Well,”Perfectsays.“MatchandIareleavingforColoradoinaboutanhour.”
“Havefun,”Romanticsays.“Igottagetbacktotheresort,anyway.Bigchef’sclasscomingupthis

weekend.Whataboutyou,Five?”

“Nopersonaldetails,friends.It’sbetteryoudon’tknow.”
“Right,”Mysterioussays,downinghisdrinkashegetsupfrommydiningroomtable.“Allsecrets

allthetimewithyou.I’vegotnooneathomeforme,buthey,there’salwayswork.Sothat’swhere
I’mheaded.Newcasecameintoday.Gonnatakeit,Ithink.Justtogetmygrooveback.”

He’snotascockyashewasafewweeksago,that’sforsure.AndIhopetheyleaveusalone.Ihope

hedoesn’thavetodealwiththebullshitPerfect,Romantic,andIhavegonethrough.

Butit’swishfulthinking.
There’smorecoming.
We’renotdoneyet.
“Hey,”Matchsays,lookingatMysterious.“What’swithyouandthesegirlyfuckingdrinks,

anyway?ThelasttimeIsawyou,itwasstraightbourbonallthetime.

“Myhotnewassistanthasmehookedonthem,”Mysteriouslaughs.“She’safuckingwildlittletrip,

man.Andgoddammit,she’sgoodinbed.”

“Well,thatfuckingmintjulepremindsmeofmydamnsister.”
“Ariel?”Mysteriouslaughs.“IcannotpictureArieldrinkingmintjuleps.”

Wealllaughatthat.FuckingArielisonetoughchick.She’snotagirly-drinkkindofgirl.
“NotAriel,youdumbass,”Matchsays.“Cinderella.”
MysteriousspitsoutthealcoholhewasjustabouttoswallowanditgoesalloverFive,who

narrowshiseyesandbrushesoffhissuit.“Whatdidyoujustsay?”Mysteriousasks.“Youdonothave
asisternamedCinderella.”

“Cindy,youfreak.You’venevermether.She’stheblacksheep.Tookoffwhensheturnedeighteen

andbecamesomekindofwanderer.”

“Igottago,”Mysterioussays.Hegrabsapacksittingbythedoorandtwosecondslater,it’slikehe

wasneverhere.

“Whatthefuckwasthatabout?”Iask.
“Whoknowswithhim,”Romanticsays.“He’sprobablybangingagirlnamedCinderellaandnow

hethinksit’syoursister.”

EveryonebutMatchthinksthat’shilarious.

Epilogue-Victoria

WestonConrad,AKAMr.Corporate,askedmetomarryhimfortheseventhtimeonmythirtieth

birthday.

Isaidno.
Hedidn’tcare,hejustpulledthatringout,shoutingandscreaming,“You’remineandgoddammit,

you’regonnawearthisring!”

Ilethimdothat.Ievenfrowned,andthensaid,“OK,I’llwearthering,”likeIdidn’twantto,justto

keepupwithmywildside.

Andhesaid,“OK?You’llwearthering?”
Isaid,“Yeah.Didn’tyouevernoticethatourinitialsgotogether?”Hegavemethispuzzledlook

untilImadeaVwithmytwopointerfingers.ThenImovedthemapartalittleandmadeaWwithmy
pointerfingersandmythumbs.“VisonehalfofW.I’monlycompletewhenI’mwithyou.”

Hecouldn’tputthatringonmyfingerfastenough.Heevengotdownononekneetodoit.
IhaveafeelingWestandImightnevergetmarried.IthinkImightjustwearhisringforever.I

thinkImightevenhavehischildrenandcookdinner,andhaveitwaitingonthetablewhenhegets
homefromwork.

Icanactlikehiswifewithoutbeinghiswife.Right?
WhenItoldhimthat,heagreedandhuggedmetightforseveralseconds,thendraggedmeupstairs

andwantedtofuckmeagainstthewall.

Hecanownmeifhewants.
Idon’tseemtominditthesedays.
EverythingseemsdifferentsincemylasttriptoBrooklyn.Ifeelfree.Likethepastjustdrifted

awayandleftmebehind.

IlostthebuildinginManhattan,andthecharity.Itwasinevitable.Andironic,Ithink.Thatonce

Westknew,andwaswillingtohelpmekeepit,andIwaswillingtoaccepthishelp,itwasalltaken
awaybecausetheywipedouthisbankaccounts.TheEastCoast,andeverythingbackthere,ishistory.
IleftitallbehindwhenIcametoCalifornia.Butweworkedourassesofftoplaceallthekidsinthe
bestpossiblefosterhomes.

AllexceptEthan.He’smine.
No.
He’sours.
AndwatchingWestwithEthaniseye-opening.Theyplaybaseballinthebackyard.Westisteaching

himhowtoswim.Ethanisfinallysettlinginandheevencalledmemomoncelastweek.

ThisisthereasonImightletWestknockmeup.It’sthereasonImightlethimmakemestayhome

whileheearnsthemoney.It’sthereasonIdoeverythingthesedays.

WestonConradmight’vegottentheshortendofthestickasfathersgo,buthe’snotgoingtobethe

assholewhoperpetuatesthecycle.

Whenhe’sin,he’sallin.
Westartedanewcharity,too.WestpaidoffourhousewiththemoneyMysteriousowedhim.West

saidweneededthatsecurity.Soallthreeofusknowthathouseisoursandnoonecanevertakeit
away.ThenwestartedCorporateHouse.AsafeplaceforkidsinHollywood.We’reopentwenty-four

seven.Theycancomeeat,orsleep,orplaygames.Whateveritisthat’smissingintheirlives,we’re
there.Openarms,readyandwaiting,foranykidwhoneedsus.

Maybesomedayeverykidwillhavelovingparentsandahappyhome.Butuntilthathappens,

they’vegotustolookoutforthem.

Mr.andMrs.Corporate.
It’sjustbusiness,Misterstyle.

WANTTHENEXTBOOK?

Mr.MysteriousbyJAHuss

GETITHERE

PaxtonVanceisn’tascrypticashethinks.Thatbroodynatureandtough-guyexterioraren’t

foolingmeonebit.

Iknoweverythingabouthim.Ilisteninonhismostpersonalphonecalls.Ireadhismailbefore

hedoes.IevenknowwhathismothergothimforChristmaslastyear.

You’rethemanofmydreams,PaxtonVance.Youjustdon’tknowityet.
Butdon’tworry,I’llremindyou.I’mheretogiveyoueverythingyouneed,beforeyouknow

youneedit.

Don’tgetdefensivebecauseItakeachallengeseriously.Youhavetoopenuptosomeone,and

thatsomeoneisme.

Besides,youcan’tstayMr.Mysteriousforever.Whyplaythegameifyouneverwanttowin?

ENDOFBOOKSHIT

WelcometotheEndofBookShit-oraswecallitaroundhere,theEOBS.Iwritetheseattheend

ofeverybooktokindofgivereadersalittleinsighttothestorytheyjustread.Theyaren’tedited,so
don’tmindmytypos.

Some of them are epic. I think the last one for Mr. Romantic was pretty good. Some of them,

especiallytheearlyones,arejustmeh.ItreallydependsonthestoryandhowitaffectedmeasIwrote
it. Some are hard to write, some are very easy. Some are controversial, some not so much. And
sometimesIjustwanttotalk.

Mr. Corporate is funny because I started this series with Mr. Perfect being so damn perfect and

thenjumpedrightintothecontroversialsubjectofrapefantasywithMr.Romantic.Iamnotafraidto
writeaboutanything.Imean,ifthat’showthestorysaysit’sgoing,I’mlike–OK.Let’sdothisshit.
AndeventhoughIknewtheoverallseriesarcfortheMisters,Idon’tplotthebooksoutseparately
toofarinadvance.IprettymuchplotthenextbookduringthetimeI’mwritingthelast25%ofthe
currentbook.

SoIwasplottingMr.CorporatewhileallthatrapefantasystuffwasgoingdowninMr.Romantic.

Iknewthatthebookwasgoingtopushsomebuttons.Ididn’tcare,mindyou.ButIknew.AndIknew
Romanticwasoverthetop,andPerfectwassodamnperfect.SoIwantedWestandToritobemore
“normal”butisacompletelydifferentway.

Iwanted West tovery traditional. Hewants very traditional things.A wife tostay home with the

kids,thehouse,thecorporatejob,anddinneronthetablewhenhegetshome.

Ithinkthisiskindofabigtrigger,notjustinromancebooks,butinsocietyingeneral.Menaren’t

allowedtowantthesethingstoday.Theyaresexistiftheywanttheirwivestobe…well, wives. I’m
talkingasacareerchoice.Ithink“wife”canbeacareerchoice.Itdoesn’thavetobe,butitcan,just
like“mother”canbeacareerchoice.

No,youdon’tgetpaid,perse.Butyouenjoytherewardsofthepartnershipbyworkingtogether.
AndeventhoughWesthadamotherandfatherwhilehewasyoung,andafterhewasadopted,he

neverhadanythingclosetotraditional.Ididn’texploreWest’sfeelingsabouthisnewfamily(Iwill,
later),soyoudon’tgetmuchfromhimaboutthat.ButIdidknowthathemissedoutonsomethinghe
felt other kids got. A “normal” loving family life. So this was his motivation in his romance with
Tori.Helovesher.She’swildandcrazyandhot-tempered.Andhecan’tgetenough.

Butheneedstotameherassdownifhe’severgoingtofulfillhisdesirefora“normal”family.
And Tori had her background to run away from. She was forced into things as a young

girl/womanandsoallshecandoisresistthistrapWestissetting.Hestiflesherwithhisexpectations.

Sheandhearenotonthesamepage.
Sowhatdoesittaketochangesomeone’sworld-view?
That’sahardthingtodo,right?Especiallyasyougetolder.
How does one make a wild woman like Tori understand that giving in to a traditional role in a

relationshipisnotgivingupheridentityasindependent?

Inthe“romanceworld”therearesomanywaystowritearelationship.Butmostlythewomenare

supposedtobestrong,butnice.Andthemenaresupposedtobealpha,butnotdemeaning.

Well,inJulie’sworld,that’snotreallythecase.Infact,Ithinkeveryexpectationexceptforthetwo

golden rules of no cheating and the mandatory happily ever after, should be thrown out whenever
possible.

I kind of like traditional. And I especially like writing about women who choose to be mothers

insteadofcareerwomen.Idon’tknowwhy,really.Iwasasinglemomforhalfmykid’schildhood.
AndIhavealwaysworked.Notalwaysoutofthehousethough.Ifoundwaystoworkfromhome.But
Ineverwantedtochangemychoice,sowritingwomenwhochooseatraditionalroleisn’tbasedoff
someregretIhave.Ijustthinkit’sagreatjobandsomanywomenseeitasatrap.

SoIlovedwritingVictoriacomingtotermswithWeston’s“demands”thatshebehis“wife”.AndI

lovedherreasonswhyshewasrefusing.Ilikedthatshemadehimworkhardtounderstandherpoint
ofview.Shekepthimatarm’slengthuntilheunderstoodherissueswithit.AndIthinktheyprobably
haveagood,healthyattitudeaboutwhowearsthepantsinthefamilynowthatthey’reattheendof
theirstory.

Oh,holdup.Wedidn’thaveawedding,didwe?Infact,we’remissingquiteafewweddingsinthis

series.Hmmm…whatmightthatmean?;)

IalsolovedthatVictoriaalwaysknewWestwasinnocent.Itwassuchabreathoffreshairafter

Nolan’scompleteweirdofuckingmeltdownofalifeoverthatwholerapething,youknow?Hetook
ittooneextremeandCorporatetookittotheother.

EveryonethoughtNolanwasguilty.Hell,evenNolanthoughthewasguilty.Maybepeoplethought

Corporate was guilty too, but who cares? He had a witness. His life after those rape charges was
almost no different than before. He had his girlfriend, who also knew he was one hundred percent
innocent. So what if he didn’t finish college? I don’t think it mattered to him the way it did Nolan.
Nolancamefromafamilyfilledwithgreatexpectations.Westonhadzeroexpectationstoliveupto.I
thinkhewasprobablymoresurprisedthingswereworkingoutsowell,morethananything.Sowhen
hewasaskedtoleaveschoolbecauseofthecontroversy,hejusttookitallinstrideandmovedon.
He’sdefinitelyaroll-with-the-puncheskindofguy.

I also love Corporate’s backstory. That was another surprise. I knew going in I needed to make

himfitintotheover-allseriesstory.AndIwashesitanttokeepaddinginmoreandmorepeopletothe
mixbecauseIhavetotieitalltogetherinthelastbook,right?Nopressurethere.

SoIwasaimingforsupersimple.IwasaimingatClaudette,ifI’mhonest.Iwasgoingtoputher

inthisstorysomehow.Butyouknow,Ireallyhatedher.Ididn’tfeellikegivinghersomuchpoweror
pagetime.AndIlikedthethoughtofWestbeingfromNantucket.IhaddoneallthatresearchforIvy
andNolaninNewEnglandandIreallywantedCorporatetobefrom“thatkind”offamily.

Oldmoney.
Butwithatwist.Becauseoldmoneycanbeboringtoo,youknow.Besides,Romanticwasfrom

super-old money. And I didn’t really get into Perfect’s money genealogy, but it was several
generations.Mysteriousishalfoldmoney,halfnew.AndMatchisSpencerShrikemoney.;)

So Corporate was my only real chance to come up with some cool new-money story. I don’t

rememberwhyIwaswatchingtheGooniesrecentlybutIwas.God,theGoonies,right?Thatissomy
generation.Itwasagreatnew-moneystoryandeverykidIknewwantedtobepartofthatteam.

WhichleadsmetoanotherthingIliketodoinmybooks.Contradictions.
Ilovecontradictions.SexyfuckingFordAstonandhissexyfuckingbrain.JesusChrist.Heisthe

perfect contradiction. Spencer Shrike and his fun, easy-going attitude combined with his obsession
withguns.RontheBombshellVaughnwithhergianttits,blondehair,andjobasatattooartistwho
ends up having six kids. Rook and her wide doe-eyes isn’t exactly innocent by the time you get to
Panic.AndMateoandhisstartattoosandastronomyjob.Thisisthestuffofgreatcharacters.

My aim in Corporate’s story was to present this ridiculous contradiction between a boat-rat kid

whofindsatreasureandthesuper-successfulself-mademan.ThemoreridiculousthebetterIlikeit.
It’sachallengeandI’mahellofacharacterdeveloper.SoI’mOKwithjustaboutanyscenario.

ThecontradictionwithToriwasherdesiretosavekids,yetrefusingtohaveanyofherownorbe

partoftheexpected“nuclearfamily”becauseitfeelslikeatrap.

It’sirony,right?
IfirstgottheideathatCorporatewassomekindofcon-artistwhenIsawamovierecentlycalled

ThisBoy’sLife.LeonardoDiCaprioplaysakidbackintheFiftieswhoistryingtogetasfaraway
fromhissmall-townlifeandabusivefatherashecanbyapplyingtoeliteprivateboardingschools.
So he gets his nerdy friend to fake some transcripts for him and works hard to pass the entrance
exams,evengetshimselfascholarship.

Ithoughttomyself,yeah.ThisisMr.Corporate’sbackgroundrighthere.ButIneededmore,andI

knew I wanted him to be from Nantucket (contradictions, right? He lives in a shack on land worth
millionsofdollars).SoIputhimonthatlobsterboatandstartedaskingmyselfwhatcouldpossibly
happennext.

IamconstantlybeingaskedbyotherauthorshowIfleshoutmycharacters.DoImapitout?DoI

haveatimeline?DoIkeeponeofthosestorybibleswitheverylittledetailoutlined?

I don’t do any of that. I just come up with a childhood and shape my character from that. You

know,justlikeMotherNaturedoesitinreallife.Youarethisblankcanvaswhenyou’reborn.And
prettysoonyou’rebackpackingtheAppalachianTrailasafour-year-oldwithyourdad.Orvisiting
thephysicslabwithyoumotheratsix.Orlearninghowtoski,orgolf,orsurfbecauseyourparents
areski,golf,surfbums.

Itshapesyou,yaknow?
But the really fun part about shaping characters is the contradiction. If I’m going to write a

stripperhe’snotgoingtobejustanystripper.IfI’mgoingtowritearockstarhe’snotgoingtobe
justanyrockstar.

And if I’m going to write a five-book series based on the “office romance” trope, well, don’t

expect the sex to happen on a desk in every single book. I just don’t roll that way. But if you look
closely,everyoneofthesebooksareabsolutelyanofficeromance.Thatwastheveryfirstunifying
premiseofthewholeseries.EvenbeforeIhadthewholerapeaccusationIhadthe“officeromance”.

SoIhopeyou’reenjoyingmytakeonthattrope.Personally,Ifindofficeromancesamongsome

ofthemostboringstoriesevertold.(I’mjustbeinghonesthere)ButPerfectwasperfectforthetrope
andthelongerIthoughtabouteachMisterinthiscontext,themoreIlikedtheidea.

Mac and Ellie are boss and subordinate, pretty clear cut with very few contradictions. Super

seductive, Nolan, is interviewing little inexperienced, naïve, Ivy. West and Victoria are competitors
afterthesamecontract,draggingawholelotofbaggagebehindthem.

WhichbringsustoMr.Mysterious.JesusChrist,I’mnotgonnaspellitoutforyou,butIhopeyou

gotthatlittlehintattheendofWest’slastchapter.I’msofuckingexcitedaboutthisnextbook.And
thenMatchandFiveandholyfuck,Icannotwait.

Anyway,IhopetheMisterswerefunreadssofar.That’swhatI’maimingfor.Ihavealotofdark

eroticacomingupstartinginJanuary,butIliketodofunstoriesforsummer.AndmaybeRomantic
wasn’tasfunasPerfect,butIpromisetomakeituptoyouwithMysterious.Heshouldbedark,right?
Right?Letmejustsay–expecttheunexpected.It’swhatIdobest.

Ifyou’dliketohangoutwithmeonFacebookIhaveaprivatefangroupcalled

ShrikeBikes

Justasktojoinandsomeonewillapproveyouassoonastheyseeit.Iaminthatgroupchattingwith

thefanseverysingledayandwehavealotofgiveawaysandfunstuffgoingallthetime.Especially
aroundreleasedays.Iusuallydoatakeoverandgiveawayallkindsofstuffrelatedtothenew
release,socomeonbyandsayhi.

Ifyouenjoyedthisbookpleaseconsiderleavingmeareviewwhereyoupurchasedit.I’mstill

indie.AndthesuccessofeachandeverybookIputoutdependsonreaderslikeyouleavingtheir
thoughtsandopinionsaboutthestoryinareview.

Thankyouforreading,thankyouforreviewing,andI’llseeyouinthenextbook.

Julie
JAHuss

*************
Eachofthetitlesbelowwillbelinkedtothebookonceitgoesliveorisupforpre-order.Soif

you’dlikethenextone,justclickthelinks.Ifit’snotavailableyet,you’llbetakentomywebsite.

AbouttheAuthor

istheNewYorkTimesandUSATodaybestsellingauthorofmorethanthirtyromances.

Shelikesstoriesaboutfamily,loyalty,andextraordinarycharacterswhostrugglewithbasichuman
emotionswhiledealingwithbiggerthanlifeproblems.JAloveswritingheroeswhomakeyou
swoon,heroineswhomakesyoujealous,andtheperfectHappilyEverAfterending.

Youcanreadherwritingcraftandmarketingarticles

atherwebsite

andchatwithheron

Facebook

Twitter

,andherkick-assromanceblog,

NewAdultAddiction

.Ifyou'reinterestedin

gettingyourhandsonanadvancedreleasecopyofherupcomingbooks,sneakpeekteasers,or
informationonherupcomingpersonalappearances,youcanjoin

hernewsletterlist

andgetthose

detailsdeliveredrighttoyourinbox.

JAHusslivesonadirtroadinColoradothirtyminutesfromthenearestpostoffice.Soifshe

owesyouapackagefromagiveaway,expectittotakeforever.Shehasasmallfarmwithtwo
donkeysnamedParis&Nicole,aringneckparakeetnamedBird,andapackofdogs.Shealsohastwo
grownchildrenwhohaveneverreadanyofherbooksanddonotplanoneverdoingso.Theydo,
however,planonusinghercreditcardsforever.

JAcollectsgunsandlikestoreadsciencefictionandbooksthatmakeherthink.JAHussusedto

writehomeschoolsciencetextbooksunderthenameSimpleSchoolingandafterpublishingmore
than200ofthose,sheranoutofshittosay.ShestartedwritingtheIAmJustJuncosciencefiction
seriesin2012,buthassincefoundthemeaningoflifewritingeroticstoriesaboutantiheromenthat
readerslovetolove.

JAhasanundergraduatedegreeinequinescienceandfullyplannedonbecomingaveterinarian

untilsheheardwhatkindofhourstheykeep,soshedecidedtogotogradschoolandgotamaster ’s
degreeinForensicToxicology.Beforeshewasafull-timewritershewassmellinghogfarmsforthe
stateofColorado.

EventhoughJAisknowntobetestyandsomewhatofabitch,shelovesher#fansdearlyandif

youwanttotalktoher,joinherFacebookfangroupwhereshepostsdailybullshitaboutbullshit.

Ifyouthinkshe’skiddingaboutthiscrazyautobiography,youdon’tknowherverywell.

SEEALLHERBOOKSHERE

Document Outline

Contents
Mr. Corporate
DESCRIPTION
Prologue - Weston
Chapter One - Victoria - Five Days Ago
Chapter Two - Weston
Chapter Three - Victoria
Chapter Four - Weston
Chapter Five - Victoria
Chapter Six - Weston
Chapter Seven - Victoria
Chapter Eight - Weston
Chapter Nine - Victoria
Chapter Ten - Weston
Chapter Eleven - Victoria
Chapter Twelve - Weston
Chapter Thirteen - Victoria
Chapter Fourteen - Weston
Chapter Fifteen - Victoria
Chapter Sixteen - Weston
Chapter Seventeen - Victoria
Chapter Eighteen - Weston
Chapter Nineteen - Victoria
Chapter Twenty - Weston
Chapter Twenty-One - Victoria
Chapter Twenty-Two - Weston
Chapter Twenty-Three - Victoria
Chapter Twenty-Four - Weston
Chapter Twenty-Five - Victoria
Chapter Twenty-Six - Weston
Chapter Twenty-Seven - Victoria
Chapter Twenty-Eight - Weston
Chapter Twenty-Nine - Victoria
Chapter Thirty - Weston
Chapter Thirty-One - Victoria
Chapter Thirty-Two - Weston
Chapter Thirty-Three - Victoria
Chapter Thirty-Four - Weston
Chapter Thirty-Five - Victoria
Chapter Thirty-Six - Weston
Chapter Thirty-Seven - Victoria
Chapter Thirty-Eight - Weston
Chapter Thirty-Nine - Victoria
Chapter Forty - Weston
Chapter Forty-One - Victoria
Chapter Forty-Two - Weston
Chapter Forty-Three - Victoria
Chapter Forty-Four - Weston
Chapter Forty-Five - Victoria
Chapter Forty-Six - Weston
Chapter Forty-Seven - Victoria
Chapter Forty-Eight - Weston
Epilogue - Victoria
END OF BOOK SHIT
About the Author

Wyszukiwarka

Podobne podstrony:
Mr Mysterious (Mister #4) JA Huss
Mr Perfect (Mister #1) J A Huss
OTO JA JESTEM Z WAMI-Misterium Męki Pańskiej, konspekty, scenariusze
CB y DG Mllin, Rionegro, La?ja? Corporacion Region V2 AT (AV)
all slides Corporate Finance MR BERENT
Mr Misterday
OTO JA JESTEM Z WAMI-Misterium Męki Pańskiej, konspekty, scenariusze
MR prezentacja
W10b Teoria Ja tozsamosc
Psychologia osobowości dr Kofta wykład 9 Poznawcza teoria Ja
mister
JA[1] Zespoły neurologicznepopr
W10 Ja Spoleczne
W09 Ja wstep ROZ
HA ja na ARA cwiczenia 2010

więcej podobnych podstron

Mr Corporate (Mister #3) JA Huss

Document Outline