FIGHTFORYOU

FightforYou

BookTwo

JessieEvansw/a

LiliValente

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waspreviouslypublishedasOneBeautifulRevengebyJ.Evans.CoverbyBootstrapDesigns.EditedbyRobinLeone
Editorial.

AboutTheBook

Warning:Adark,sexy,boundary-pushingreadfeaturinganalphamalewhowilldo
whateverittakestoavengehisgirl.

TheydestroyedthewomanIlove.NowI’mgoingtomakethemwishtheyhadneverbeen
born.

ThefratboyswhohurtSamwillpaythepriceforwhattheydid.Andthepriceis
everything.Iwillhavetheirpain,theirsuffering,andthentheirlives.

TheydroveSamawayfromme.Iamamanwithoutaheart,amanwhowithnothingleft
tolose.

AndthenIseeher,walkingthroughtheairportinCostaRica.

Sam.She’saliveandhereforthesamereasonIam—totakevengeance.

Itdoesn’ttakelongtofigureoutwe’reasperfecttogetheraswe’vealwaysbeen.Nowwe
justhavetodecide—carrythroughwithourdarkplans,orgetoutbeforeit’stoolate.

READERALERT:ThisisthesecondhalfofDannyandSam’sstoryandshouldberead
afterRunWithMe.FightforYouisacompletenovelthatcontainsadultthemes,violence,
murder,andpossibletriggersforsexualassaultvictims.

Dedicatedtobravewomenandthegoodmenwholovethem.

CHAPTERONE

Sam

“Wedonothavetovisitamadhousetofinddisorderedminds;

ourplanetisthementalinstitutionoftheuniverse.”

-Goethe

Thepastneverleavesus.

Thepastisapartofwhoweare,asmuchasourskinandboneandthelieswe’vetold

thatwecannevertakeback.

Thechoiceswe’vemadeandthethingswe’vesufferedtakeeverystepwithus,always

presentthoughnotalwaysseen.

Mydadisageologistbyprofession,butanall-aroundsciencenerdfortheloveofagood

mystery.WhenIwaslittle,ourfamilywouldspendourweekendsexploringhiddenisland
beaches,hikingupmist-shroudedmountains,orpawingthroughthevolcanicsoilatop
Maui’sdormantvolcano.

Oneverytrip,Dad’svoicewasthesoundtrackforadventure.Beforethedivorce,Mom

usedtojokethatshefeltlikeshewaslivinginanaturedocumentary.IcouldtellDad’s
constantchatterannoyedhersometimes,buttomethestorieshetoldwerereasonfor
wonder.Itmademerealizetheworldwasfullofmystery.

Everyplantoranimalwepassedonatrailhadasecretstorytotell,anentirehidden

worldwaitingtounfoldtothosewhotookthetimetostop,observe,andasktheright
questions.

ItwasDadwhotaughtmethatpalmtreesaren’treallytreesatall.They’remoreclosely

relatedtothegrassfamilyanddon’tgeneratenewcellsthewaytreesdo.Cutthroughan
oak’sbarkandyou’llseegrowthringsthattellthestoryofeachyearofthetree’slife.Cut
intoapalm’strunkandyou’lljustleaveagashinthethick,spongymaterialoftheplant.

Andunliketheoak,whoseyearlyringgrowthwilleventuallyhealoverthecut,

protectingtheplantfromdisease,thepalmtreewillbearanopenwoundfortherestofits
life.Everyinsectanddangerousbacteriathatfloatsbyonanislandbreezewillbeableto
burrowstraightintotheheartofthepalmandstartdevouringtheplantfromtheinsideout.

AsIgrewup,Istartedtothinkthatpeoplewerealotlikebothplants.

Sometimes,we’relikeanoak,growingpastanoldhurt,buryingitunderlayersofnew

growth,movingforwardandgettingstrongerdespitethescarburiedbeneaththehealthy
outershell.Butsometimes,ourwoundsrefusetoheal.Sometimes,theystayopenand
ugly,remindinguseverytimewelookinthemirrorthatwewillneverbethesame.

Thehurtwastoobig,thecuttoodeep.

Wewillnevermovepastit.

Fromthisday,untilourlastday,thewoundwillmakeusaneasytarget,aweakened

animalfallingbehindtherestoftheherd,waitingforanotherpredatortostepinandfinish
thejobthefirstonestarted.

AsIstumbledownthecourthousesteps,clingingtomydad’sarmwithmyheadtucked

tomychin,ignoringthequestionsthereportersshoutfromeithersideofmeaswepress
throughthecrowd,Iwonderwhatthecamerassee.

Dotheyseethehardened,selfish,sexuallydeviantmonsterthedefenseattorneymade

meouttobe?Ordotheyseethestinging,screaminggashfourboyscutthroughthe
middleofmyheart?

Notguilty.

Theywereallfoundnotguilty.

Attheendoftheday,thejurybelievedthatIinvitedfourboystotaketurnswithme,not

thatIfoughtandbledandcried.TheybelievedthatIspreadrumorsaboutDeidretokeep
newsofmysexualadventuresfrommyboyfriend,notbecauseIwastraumatizedafter
beingraped.

Asfarasthelawandtheworldatlargearenowconcerned,Todd,Jeremy,J.D.,andScott

areinnocentandtherapeneverhappened.

Butitdid.

ItdidandnowIdon’tknowwhattodo.HowdoImoveonwhenI’vebeentoldthe

reasonformygriefdoesn’texist,andthatmyvoice,mytruth,meanslessthannothing?

Someoneshoutsmyname.

IflinchandlookupbeforeIrememberthatI’msupposedtokeepmygazedownuntilI

gettothecarwaitingbythecurb.

“Howdidyoufeelwhenyouheardtheverdict,Samantha?”Themaninthesuitshoving

amicrophoneinmyfacehassweatbeadingonhisupperlip.Istareatitforamoment,
feelingill,whilemyfatherspringstomydefense.

“Nocomment,”hegrowls,hisarmtighteningaroundme.

SweatyUpperLipsayssomethingelse,butIcan’tmakesenseofit.Myfocushas

shifted,hominginonToddandhisfather,standingintheshadeofthecoraltreesplanted
alongthesidewalk.

OnceI’vespottedthem,Ican’tseemtopullmygazeaway.

Todd’sfatherisshakinghandswithapretty,stick-thinreporterandsmiling.Toddis

noddingearnestly,hisblueeyeswidewithgratitudeandhisshaggyblondhairwavingin
thegentlebreeze.Heisthepictureofinnocence,provinghe’safarbetteractorthanhisB-
listcelebrityfather.IfIdidn’tknowhewasaliarandamonster,Imightbetemptedto
believehim,too.

ButIwastherethenightTodd’shumanmaskfellawayandthedevilbeneathcameout

toplay.Ifeltthecrueltyinhistouch.IheardhimlaughwhileIcriedandbeggedthemto
stop.Iwatchedhimsmileashisfriendstookturnsuntiltheworldwasfullofpainand
bloodrandownmythighs,mixedwiththestickinessofotherthingsIcouldn’tbearto
thinkabout.

AndIrememberthelastwordsheshoutedaftermeasIhobbledawayfromthepool

tableandran,half-nakedandsobbing,acrossthefrathouse’sbacklawntowardthequad.

Youknowyoulovedit,doll.Comebackwhenyou’rereadyformore.

Ormaybewe’llcomefindyou,Sammy.

Thethreatwasthekillshot.

IhadnoideahowIwouldsurvivewhatthey’ddoneonce,letaloneiftheydiditagain.

Theterrorthethoughtinstilled,combinedwiththephysical,mental,andemotionalpainof
theattack,sweptthroughmelikeahurricane,shatteringthewallsofthefortress
protectingmymostprivate,secretself.

AndthenJ.D.putthevideoofwhatthey’ddoneonthecampuswebsiteandshovedthe

naked,innocentthingthey’dexposedoutintothedrivingrain.

Itdidn’tmatterthatmyfacewasn’tvisibleinthethirtysecondsoffootageorthatitwas

onlyuponthesiteforafewhoursbeforetheadministrationshutitdown.Everyonehad
alreadyseen;everyonewasalreadywonderingwhothegirlmightbe.Hearingthehushed
speculationinthelibrarywaslikelivingthroughitalloveragain.Istartedtofearthatit
wouldneverbeover,thatIwouldkeeplivingthroughit,overandoveragain,everyday
untilthedayIdied.

IspentJanuaryinhell,ravagedbyrage,fear,andshame,forcedtopretendeverything

wasokaywhileIwaitedtofindoutifIwaspregnantorifthetestI’dtakenatalocalclinic
wouldcomebackpositiveforHIV.

Idon’tremembertellingmygossipyroommatethatI’dhearditwasDeidreJonesinthe

video.Idon’tremembergoingtoclassesorgettingupformymorningrunorexactlywhat
Isaidtomystepbrother,Alec,theonetimeIworkedupthecouragetoaskhimwhyhe
hadn’tstoppedthem.

Whyhehadn’tsavedme.

ButIrememberthedayIlearnedthatDeidrehadhungherselfinherdormroomwith

crystalclarity,rightdowntothejeansIwaswearingandthepatternofthecoffeegrounds
floatinginmycupwhenIheardthenews.Itwasthedaythateverythingchanged,theday
IbegantohatemyselfasmuchasIhatedtheboyswhohadbrokenme.

BythetimeItookthestandinapackedLosAngelescourtroom,IthoughtIknewhate

insideandout.IthoughtIunderstooditinawayIhadunderstoodveryfewthingsinmy

twentyyearsoflife.

ButIwaswrong.

Todd’sgazemeetsmineacrossthecrowdedcourthousestepsandanuglygrincurveshis

fulllips,andatthatmoment,Irealizethathateisfathomless.

Thereisnoendtoit.Icouldsinkdown,down,downthroughtheinkydepthsofmy

hatredforToddWinslowforyearsandneverreachthebottom.Icoulddrinkandeat
nothingbuthateandneverbefilled.AndIcouldspendtherestofmylifeapplying
bandagestothewoundheandhisfriendshaverippedinmysoulanditwillneverheal.

Theysayloveandhateareoppositesidesofthesamecoin,thetwogreattransformative

forcesintheuniverse.Oneleadstolightandfreedom,theotherfeedsafirethatwill
consumeyouwhole.

Anyonewithsensewouldchoosetobefree.

Ihaveparentswholoveme,believeme,andsupportme.Ihaveaboyfriendwhowants

tobebymyside,helpingmepickupthepiecesofmyshatteredlife.Thetrialisoverand
I’vesparedDannyasmuchofthehorrorasIcan.Now,allIhavetodoispickupthe
phone.Iknowhewillmeetmeontheislandwherewefellinlove,holdmeaslongasI
needtobeheld,anddedicatehimselftolovingmeenoughtomakeupforallthepainand
injustice.

ButI’mnotsurethereisenoughloveintheworldforthat.Enoughlovetomakeupfor

Todd’ssmile.EnoughsandinthehourglasstomakemeforgetthatIwenttothematwith
evilandevilwon.

Buttheremightbeenoughhate.

Hateenoughtomakemestrong,hateenoughtoturnawoundintoaweapon.

IholdTodd’sgaze,memorizingtheexactcurveofhislips,silentlypromisingmyselfthat

oneday,nottoolongfromnow,Iwillwipethatgrinfromhisface.Iwillshowhimwhatit
feelsliketohaveeveryscrapofdignity,safety,andhappinessstrippedawayandtobeleft
twistinginthewindwhilethevulturesswoopdowntofeed.

I’msilentinthecartothehotelmymother,father,andIhavebeenstayingatforthepast

fewweeks.Istareoutthewindow,ignoringmyfather’sassurancesthatwe’llappealthe
court’sdecision,getabetterlawyer,suethebastardsincivilcourt,dowhateverittakesto
makethingsright.

Thingswillneverberight.

AndI’mnotgoingtobegforscrapsofmercyorjusticeanymore.

Ishouldhaveknownbetterthantothinkacourtandabunchofanonymousjury

memberswouldtakemyvengeanceforme.Theydon’tunderstand.Theycan’tsee
throughmyeyes,breathemybreath,orwalkthedark,desolatehallsinmysoulthatdidn’t
existbeforelastNewYear’sEve.Noonecanandnooneeverwill.

Thisistoopersonal,thesecrimesandthehatredtheyhaveleftbehind.

Violencecreatesaterribleintimacybetweenperpetratorandvictim.Forthepastsix

months,I’verebelledagainstthatintimacy,doingeverythingIcouldtodistancemyself
fromthepainandtheboyswhoinflictedit.Butnow,Iteardownthebracesholdingmy
feebledefensesinplace.Iclosemyeyesandletthememoriessweepoverme,drowning
meinafloodofhurt,baptizingmeinhatredandsealingitwithapoisonouskiss.

Bythetimewearriveatthehotel,mydecisionismade.

Iwaituntilmyparentsaredistractedatthecheckoutcounter,arguingwiththeclerk

aboutwhetherweshouldbechargedforthenexttwonightseventhoughwe’releaving
early,andIstepoutside.

Iwalkcalmlyacrosstheparkinglot,getintomycar,andpulloutontothehighway.I

headeastanddrivestraightthroughthenight,stoppingonlyforgasandcoffee.Around
midnight,Iturnoffmyringer.Comesunrise,Ichuckmyphoneoutthewindownearthe
Texasstateline.

Idon’tlookintotherearviewmirrororletregretcreepintomyheart.

Idon’tthinkabouthowdevastatedDannywillbewhenherealizesI’vedisappearedor

howscaredandworriedmyfamilymustbe.

Onthisnewroad,thereisnoroomforcompassion.Thereisnoroomforloveorthe

softnessandvulnerabilityitbrings.ThereisonlywhereImustgoandthestepsIwilltake
togetthere.

Deepdown,Iknowthiswon’tendwell.IknowI’mdoomingmyselfassurelyasthe

menImeantodestroy,butIcan’tstomachmakinganotherchoice.Icaneitherletmy
woundbecomemyweaponorIcanlimpthroughlifeabrokenperson,bitterandjaded,
hauntedbytheghostofmyinnocence

Eitherway,thepeopleIlovearebetteroffwithoutme.Iwillneverlive,laugh,orlove

thesamewayagain.IwillneverbewhatIwasandIrefusetobethebrokencreatureTodd
andhisfriendscreated.Iwillforgemyselfanew.

Iwillpassthroughthefireofmyhatredandemergeassomethingstronger.Iwillgive

myselftimetocoolandthesteelyedgesofmynewselftimetoharden,andthenIwill
teachTodd,Jeremy,J.D.,andScottalesson.

Iwillteachthemthatthereisdangerinpreyingontheweak.

Youneverknowwhenalambwillbecomealionorakittenwillgrowten-inchclaws.

Andyouneverknowwhenthepersonyou’vebrokenwillreachdown,pickupasliverof

theirshatteredsoul,anduseittoopenyourthroat.

CHAPTERTWO

Oneyearlater…

Sam

“Weareourowndevils;wedriveourselvesoutofourEdens.”

-Goethe

Someone’sfollowingme.I’msureofit.

Ipauseatavendor’sstallintheLiberiaCentrotosurveyhercollectionofmangowood

candleholdersandcastaglanceovermyshoulder,discreetlysearchingthepressof
humanityfillingtheopenairmarket.Thereisafairlyevenmixoflocalsandtouristsatthe
markettonight,butallofthemseemtoosweptupintheirowndramastopayanyattention
tomine.

Therearecouplesarguingorstealingkissesunderthemulti-coloredlightsstrung

betweenstalls.Therearegroupsofgirlsholdingupdressesandjewelry,gigglingover
sharedjokes,andherdsofyoungmendrenchedincologneroamingtheperiphery,clearly
moreinterestedinthegirlsthantheshopping.Thereareloud,eagervendorsshoutingout
topassersby,oldwomenhunchedwearilyonstoolsatthebackoftheircrowdedstalls,and
youngermerchantswithpinchedexpressions,jealouslyobservingtheanticsofthoselucky
enoughtobeoffworkandoutonthetown.

Thereareevenafewwomenlikeme—twenty-somethingsinkhakishorts,tanktops,and

hikingboots,totingbackpacksthroughthemarket,onthehuntforlastminute,eco-
friendlysouvenirs.

Icouldbeoneofthem,exceptthatI’mnothereonvacationandmybackpackholdsone

oftheworld’ssmallest,mostlightweightsniperriflesbrokendownintoitsvariousparts
foreasytransport.

ButIknowhowtoputitbacktogetheragain.

I’velearnedalotaboutthecareandshootingoffirearmsinthepastninemonths.Once

I’maloneinmyroom,I’llbeabletomakesomethingdeadlywiththepiecesIpurchased
fromthescarymaninthetatteredstrawcowboyhat.I’mnotworriedaboutthat.

I’mmoreworriedthatmygunsmugglerisn’tthesensiblebusinessmanmyconnectionin

Miamiassuredmehewas.IknewwhenIleftmyhotelwithtwothousanddollarsincash
rolledupinanoldsockthattherewasachanceI’dberobbed.Orrobbedandshotandleft
inaCostaRicanalleytobleedout.I’vetakenself-defenseandmixedmartialartsandput

onthirty-fivepoundsofpuremusclesincelastsummer,butthere’sonlysomuchaperson
candowhenshe’sbringingfiststoagunfight.

Still,Carlosletmewalkaway,downthealleyandbackintothecrowdedFridaynight

market.Ifhe’dplannedtotakemymoneyandkeephisgun,Idon’tknowwhyhewould
haveallowedmetosurroundmyselfwithpeople.

Ishifttomyleft,lookingforsignsofthegunanddrugsmuggler,butthere’snoonetall

enoughorbroadenough.

Thecrowdisfilledwithsoft,non-threateninglookingpeople.Eventhegroupsofboys

withtheiraggressivecolognedon’tseemdangerous.They’rehopefulteenagerslooking
forahookupwithaprettygirl,notpredators.

ButI’msurewithmynewlyblondhair,sun-pinkcheeks,andgirl-next-doorface,Idon’t

looklikeapredatoreither,andIcouldhaveanyoneofthesepeopleunconsciousatmy
feetintenseconds.

It’sbesttobecarefulandtotakenothingandnooneatfacevalue.

Icirclethemarketanothertime,keepingacarefuleyeoutforanyfamiliarfaces,butI

stillcan’tlocatethesourceofthepricklingbetweenmyshoulderblades.Finally,Iordera
smallpaperbagofcheesybizcochosfromavendorandwindmywayoutofthemarket
ontothebrightlylitstreetsofthetowncenter,takingthelongwaybacktomyhotel.

Liberia,CostaRica,isacollegetown,farsaferandmoretourist-friendlythanthe

bustlingcityofSanJosetothesouth.Butthedrugcartelsarestillactivehere.

ThemeninmygunclubinMiamisaytheMexicanssmuggledrugsfromportsnearhere

totheU.S.insidefrozensharks.Meanwhile,theColumbianshidetheircocaineinshacks
insideCostaRica’sfamousnationalparksandgrowmarijuanainthevalleyswhereeco-
toursfeartotread.Thereisdangersimmeringbeneaththecountry’snaturalbeautyand
criminalslurkingintheshadowsofthiscolonialtownwithitsbrightwhitebuildingsand
tidycityparks.

Itossmygrease-stainedpaperbagintoatrashcanattheedgeofonesuchpark,pausing

towatchacouplearguinginagazeboacrossthelawn.They’reagooddistancefromthe
road,buttheirraisedvoicescarryonthewind.

MySpanishisbetterthanaverage,andthesedaysIhavenomoralissuewith

eavesdroppingormuchofanythingelse.Istaylongenoughtorealizethemanandwoman
arefightingaboutwheretohavetheirweddingreception—athisparents’house,tosave
money,oratthebarwheretheymet—andturntoleave.Arguingbeforethewedding
doesn’tbodewellfortheirHappilyEverAfter,butthewomandoesn’tseemtobein
danger.It’sanicechangeofpace.

BackinMiami,almosteverytimeIstoppedtotakethepulseofasituationlikethatone,

Iendedupplacingananonymouscalltothepolice.Ialwayscalled,evenifIwasn’tthe
onlywitness,becauseIknewnooneelsewould.

Mostpeoplearehappytoaverttheireyesandkeepwalking,asaccustomedtoignoring

violenceastheyaretoexpectingit.

Thethoughtremindsmeofmystepbrother,butAlec’sfaceflitsthroughmymindand

disappearsintothedarknesswithouttriggeringanemotionalresponse.I’veproddedall
thosehurtfulplacesinmymemorysomanytimesinthepastyearthatmypainreceptors
havebecomecallousedandnumb.Idon’texperienceanyemotionthewayIusedto—
positiveornegative—butIwasstillgladtolearnAlecwouldn’tbejoiningtherestofhis
fraternitybrothersontheirgraduationtriptoCostaRica.Ithelpedconfirmmydecision
thathisnamedoesn’tbelongonmylist.

Hemayhaveclosedhiseyesandpretendednottohearmescream,buthedidn’tactively

participate.He’sacoward,butIknewthatthenightIwalkedintothefraternityhouse
besidehim.

Alec’salwaysbeenacowardandaliar,neveronetoadmithisfaultsoracknowledgehis

weaknesseswhenhecouldpasstheblameandsquirmfreeofresponsibility.Ishouldhave
knownbetterthantoexpecthimtodotherightthing.Myownnaivetéisasmuchtoblame
asAlec’scowardiceandmyvengeanceisonlyforthosewhodirtiedtheirhands.

Islipmybackpackoffmyshoulderandclutchittomychest,relishingthefeelingofall

thehardpiecesnestledinside.

Ihavethegunandafewhundredroundsofammunition.NowallIneedisalittletimeto

practicewithmynewweaponinanabandonedpatchofjungleoutsideoftown,andI’llbe
ready.BythetimetheSigmaBetaEpsilonbrotherstouchdownnextweek,I’llbechecked
intotheneighboringresort,havescopedouttheperfectspottolieinwait,andbereadyto
pickthemoff,onebyone.

IknowatleastToddandJ.D.lovetoplaygolf.

AsIclimbthecrackedmarblestepstothehotel,Iimaginehowsatisfyingitwillbeto

shootthemboththroughthechestasthey’rearguingovertheirscore.I’mdistractedby
bloodlust—theonlydesireI’veallowedmyselftoembraceinthepastyear—andnotas
focusedasIshouldbe.

Idon’trealizethatthepricklingfeelingbetweenmyshoulderbladesisbackuntilI’m

reachingforthedoorleadingintothehotellobby.

AssoonasIsenseeyesonme,Iturn,searchingthestreetinbothdirections.

Tomyright,thereisahomelessmandraggingabatteredredwagonbetweenapairof

garbagecans.Tomyleft,acouplewalksdownthesidewalkhandinhand,awomanwitha
redshawltiedoverherhairleansagainstthebusstopsign,andaflashofmovementatthe
endoftheblockblurstheairassomeonedartsoutofsight.I’mleftwiththevague
impressionthatthepersonwastallandmale,butthat’sit.Ididn’tlookintimetoseehis
faceorclothingoranythingthatwillgivemeacluetohisidentity.

Forasecond,I’mtemptedtorunafterhim—ifI’veacquiredatail,Ineedtoknowwhoit

is,whathewants,andhowtomakehimgoawayandleavemealone—butmygunisstill
inpiecesandthestreetsgetdarkerandmoredangerousinthatdirection.

Ican’taffordtogetintotroublewhileI’minLiberia.Myonlychanceofgettinginand

outofCostaRicawithoutbeingchargedwithmultiplecountsofmurderistobesureno
onelearnsmynameorremembersmyface.

I’lljusthavetowait,keepmyeyesopen,andbereadytoquietlyconfrontmystalkerif

heshowsupagain.

Cursingbeneathmybreath,Icontinueintothelobby,whereanancientairconditioner

groansfromthewindownearthefrontdesk.Thenightclerkisreadingsomethingonher
phone.Afteraglancemywayandafleetingsmile,shereturnstoit,payingmenofurther
attentionasIcrossthelobbyandstartupthestairstomyroom.

Thereviewsforthehotelwerecriticalofthelackofstaffsupportandassistancein

planningtoursornavigatingthecity.That’sthereasonIchoseit.Idon’twantsupportor
assistance.AllIwantistobeignored.

SinceleavingL.A.,I’vemasteredtheartofbeinginvisible.AfterayearinMiami,onlya

handfulofpeopleknewmynameanditwasn’ttheoneIwasgivenatbirth.Ipaidformy
studioapartmentincash,workedunderthetableforarestaurantlaundryservice,andkept
tomyself.Imadeconnections,notfriends.Idyedmyhair,woreaballcappulledlowover
myface,andcheckedtobesureIwasn’tbeingfollowedwhenIwentoutside,justincase.

NoneofmyfamilyorformerfriendsknewIwasthere,butthereareagoodnumberof

streetwebcamsinMiami.Itwouldbeeasiertoenduponcameraandnoticedbysomeone
usingfacialrecognitionsoftwarethanonewouldthink.Ididn’tthinkevenmystepmother
—theonlyoneofmythreeparentswithenoughmoneytohireahigh-pricedprivate
detective—wouldgothatfartofindme,butItookstepstoprotectmyselfallthesame.

I’vebeensocareful,andI’msoclose.

ThefactthatI’vesuddenlybecomeapersonofinteresttosomeshadowystranger,days

fromaccomplishingmygoal,makesmewanttoscream.

Forthefirsttimeinmonths,I’mconsumedwithemotion,soangrymyhandsshakeasI

openthefrontpocketofmypackanddigoutmykey.Ittakesthreetriestogetthekeyinto
thelockandonceI’mfinallyinsidemyroom,Ican’tsitdown.

Itossmybackpackonthebedandpacethecarpetbetweenthebedandbureau,hands

clenchingandunclenchingatmysides.I’mshockedtofindmyselfcravingacigaretteand
knowifIhadone,I’dstepoutontothepigeon-shitcoveredbalconyoutsidemyroomto
smoke.

Itookupsmokingtohaveanexcusetominglewiththeothermembersofmygunclub.I

onlysmokedoutsidetheshootingrangeandhaveneverhadtheurgetolightupanywhere
else.IhadassumedImustbeimmunetotheaddiction,butmaybeIsimplyhaven’tbeen
underenoughstresstotriggeracraving.

Foramoment,Iconsiderhittingthebodegaafewdoorsdownfromthehotelbutdismiss

theideawithasharpshakeofmyhead.

Ineedtobestrong,calm,andfocused.Ihaven’tletmyselflookfurtherintothefuture

thanthissummerorimaginewhoI’llbeorwhatI’lldoonceI’vefinishedthis,butevenin
theshortterm,Ican’taffordtoletmybodybeweakenedbychemicalsoraddiction.

Ijustneedtotakeadeepbreath,calmdown,andthinkrationally.

Ifetchabottleofwaterfromthemini-fridgeandtakealongdrink,focusingonthecool

flowofliquiddownmythroat.Irelaxmyshouldersandjawandletmyweightsettle
evenlybetweenmyfeet.

OnceI’msteadyinmybody,Iletmymindfocusontheproblemathand.

WhoknowsI’minCostaRica?Horatio—themanfrommygunclubwhoputmein

touchwithCarlos—andanyoneinhisorganizationthathemighthavementionedthedeal
to.Horatioisn’tforthcomingabouthisalliances,butI’mprettysurehe’sinvolvedwith
oneoftheCubangangsrunningSouthMiami.Anyoneaffiliatedwithhimwouldbebad
news.DittoforCarlosandwhateverorganizationhe’saffiliatedwith,whichmeansthere
isanearlyonehundredpercentchancethatthemanfollowingmeisdangerousandthat
whateverhewantsisn’tsomethingI’mgoingtobeeagertopartwith.

Sowhatdoeshewant?

Moremoney?Doesheplantorobmeorkidnapmeforransomorsomethingevenmore

menacing?

IfCarloshadameaningfulconversationwithHoratio,heshouldhavelearnedthatI’ma

loner,notwell-off,anddon’thaveanyobvioustiestopeoplewithmoney.Thatwouldlead
metoruleoutkidnapping,butcriminalsknowingIhavenoonewaitingforapostcard
frommytriptoSouthAmericapresentsitsownproblems.

I’vedonewhatIcantoplaydownmylooks—choosingmodest,loose-fittingclothing,

alwayspullingmyhairbackinatightbraidorbun,andlimitingmymakeuproutinetoa
tubeofChapStick—butI’mstillattractive.WhenIfirstjoinedthegunclub,acoupleof
theregularstriedtostartsomething,butIquicklymadeitclearthatIwasn’tinterestedin
thatkindofrelationship.I’mnotvainenoughtobelieveoneofCarlos’sfriendstookone
lookatmeanddecidedIwasworthpursuing,buttheymighthavetakenalookand
decidedIwasworthselling.

Thecartelstrafficinpeopleaswellasdrugsand,fromwhatI’veheard,makeabetter

livingattheformer.Themajorityofthepeoplesoldintosexslaveryareyounggirlsliving
belowthepovertylinewhohaveslippedthroughthecracksinthefostersystem—orin
somecasesbeenforcedintotheskintradebytheirownparents—butI’mnotquitetwenty-
two.Notagirl,butmaybeyoungenoughtofetchadecentpriceontheinternationalslave
market.

Imovetowardthebalcony,surveyingthestreetoutsidethroughthefilmyglassdoors.

There’salockontheinsideI’vealreadybolted,butit’snotstrongenoughtowithstanda

firmshoulderfromsomeoneaslargeasCarlos.Andevenifitwere,allanintruderwould
needtodoisbreakoneoftheglasspanesandreachinsidetoopenthedoor.I’monthe
thirdfloor,butthereisafireescapewithaladderthatleadstotheground.Itwouldbeas
easytocomeupasitwouldbetogodown.

Inotedtheflawintheroom’ssecuritywhenIcheckedin,butitdidn’tworrymebefore.

Nowthatsomeoneiswatchingme,however,itwouldbesmarttolookintoamoresecure
situation.

Unfortunately,TheAllegroHotelislaidoutaroundacentercourtyard.Alloftherooms

havebalconies,soaskingforaroomchangewouldn’taccomplishanything.And

assumingmytailhasfiguredoutwhichroomI’minonce,hecouldcertainlydosoagain.

I’mgoingtohavetochangehotels,butnottonight.It’salreadyten-thirtyandIdon’t

wanttobeoutonthestreetsalonelaterthanthis.Thesearchforanothertemporarybase
willhavetowaituntilthemorning.I’lljusthavetoprepareforapotentialbreak-inasbest
IcanandhopeIgetluckytonight.

Afterbrushingmyteethandchangingintogymshorts,Idragmylarge,traveler’s

backpackinfrontoftheglassdoors,givinganyonetryingtocomeinthroughthebalcony
somethingtostumbleoverinthedark.ThenIunpackmysmallerpackandputmynew
toytogether.Thefamiliaractivityissoothing,givingmymindsomethingtofocuson
asidefromtheuneasehummingthroughmynerveendings.

Iwouldprefernottofiretheguninsidethehotel,butanintruderwon’tknowthat.

Thegunissmallforasniperrifle,butit’sstillaslongasmyforearm.Thesightofit

alonemightbeenoughtoscarehimoffandifnot,theweaponcouldbeusedtoinflict
bluntforcetraumaaslongasIgettomyattackerbeforehegetstome.

Afterthegunisassembled,IturnonthetelevisionandwatchtheendofaCostaRican

varietyshowinvolvingasurrealmixofhumanheadssuperimposedoncartooncharacter
bodies,dancinggirlsinbikinis,andbadman-on-the-streetinterviews.Alittleafter
midnightIturnoffthesetandpropmyselfupagainsttheheadboardwiththegunresting
lightlyacrossmythighs.

Forthebetterpartofanhour,Istareatthedoorsleadingontothebalcony,watching

mutedorangelightsweepacrosstheglassasacarpassesbyonthestreetoutside,waiting
forsomethingtohappen.Ifigureifthepersonfollowingmehasbeenwatchingmy
window,theywillwaitadecentamountoftimeafterseeingmytelevisionsetturnoff
beforemakingamove.

Anotherhalfhourpassesandthenightgrowsquiet.

Theonlysoundsarethefaintdroningoftheairconditionerfarbelowonthefirstfloor

andthebreezetinklingthewindchimesoutsidetheclosedshopacrossthestreet.Thelast
timeIlookattheclock,itreadstwofifteen.Iexpecttostayawaketowelcomethree
o’clock,butatsomepointImusthavenoddedoff.

WhenIwakeup,it’snearlyfourinthemorning.

ThefirstthingIregisteristhetime.Thesecondisthewaythehaironmyarmsis

standingonend.

Eveninsleep,mybodyhassensedthatsomethingiswrong.Thewatchedfeelinghas

returnedwithavengeance,sostrongIswearIcanhearanotherheartbeatthuddingnotfar
frommybed.

CHAPTERTHREE

Sam

Tryingnottopanic,Imentallycheckinwithmyimmediatesurroundings.

Thereisnoonebythedoortotheroom,soifIneedtorun,thatwayisclear.Mygunis

stillonthemattressbesideme,justafewinchesfrommycurledlegs,sothatoptionis
available,too.

NowIjustneedtofindoutwhatI’mupagainst.

Keepingmylidsslittedjustenoughtosee,Irollovertofacethebalconydoors.Idomy

besttolooklikeI’mstillasleep,keepingmyarmsandlegsheavy,notwantingtheintruder
toknowI’mconsciousuntilImakemymove.OnceIcompletemyshiftinposition,I
intendtostaycompletelystill.Iamanticipatingthatthepersonwhohasbrokenintomy
roomwillbeaman,dangerousandpossiblyarmed,butnothingmore.

Ihavenootherexpectationsorsuspicions.

Iamentirelyunpreparedtoseehimstandingontheothersideofthepatiodoors,

watchingmethroughthesmearedglass.

It’sDanny.

Here.

Closeenoughtotouch.

Closeenoughtothrowmyarmsaroundhimandhughimbreathless.

AllIhavetodoisopenthedoor.

Myeyesflyopenandmythroatlocks,stranglingthesoundofsurpriserisinginsideof

me,transformingitintoasoftwhimper.ButDannyhearsit,andhisgazeshifts,settlingon
myshadowedface.

“Letmein,Sam,”hesayssoftly.Helookssobeautiful,sofamiliar.Safe,butalienatthe

sametime,likesomethingfromanotherworldthantheoneI’vebeenlivinginforthepast
year.“Ithinkweshouldtalk.”

Talk.

Afterayearapart.

AfterIranfromhimandshuthimoutandseveredtheconnectionbetweenuswithout

evenagoodbyeoranotetellinghimI’msorrybutthatIcouldn’tloveanyonewhenIwas
filledwithsomuchhate.Afterayearofknowingthathe’slookingforme,longingforme,

andignoringit.AyearofhidingfromhimandthememoriesofthegirlIwaswhenIwas
withhim.

Iwasagirl.Justastupidlittlegirl,playingatbeingawoman,thinkingIunderstood

whatitmeanttopromisesomeoneforever.

ButIunderstoodnothing.

Foreverisimpossible.Foreverinavacuum,maybe,butnotforeverintherealworld.

Therealworldhastoomanyuglyvariables.Itchewsyouupandspitsyououtandthen

goesbackforseconds,gnashingyoubetweenitsteethuntilyoubarelyrecognizeyour
ownfaceinthemirror,letalonethefaceofthepersonyoulove.Thepersonyouloved
whenyouweresomeoneelse,someonewithafunctioningheart,whohadn’tbeenforced
tochoosebetweentwomasters.

IcouldneverhavehatedthemenwhohurtmethewayIneededtohatethemifIwas

tryingtoloveDannyatthesametime.

Lovelies.Lovewhispersthatlivingwellandlovingwellarethebestrevenge.It

convincesyoutoletgo,stepback,andleavejusticeinthehandsofGodorkarmaorsome
otherimaginarythingthatwillnevergetthejobdone.

IfthereisaGod,thenheletfourmenbrutalizemeandcontinuestoallowunimaginable

horrortobefallinnocentpeopleeveryday.IfthatGodisreal,Iwantnopartofhimand
nothinginmypersonalkarmaearnedmeagangrapeoranotguiltyverdictforthemen
whoviolatedme.

Godandkarmaareliesandmaybe…

Maybeloveisalie,too.

Iflovewerereal,thenIwouldn’tbeabletolookatDannywithoutburstingintotears

andrunningintohisarms.Iwouldn’tbeabletocrosstheroomandstandfacinghim
throughtheglasswithoutsayingaword.Notaword,aftersolong.Iflovewerereal,I
wouldn’tbeabletoreachoutanddrawthecurtainbetweenus,shuttingmyselfineven
deeperdarknessandleavingDannyontheotherside.

ButIdoit.

IdrawthecurtainandthenIwait,breathheld,earsstrainingforsomesignofwhathe’s

doingontheotherside.

Idon’tknowwhatI’lldoifheforceshiswayin.Iwaspreparedforsomeonetohurtme

—I’vebeenpreparingforthatformonths.I’mnotpreparedforsomeonetocareortogo
huntingforthegirltheyknewhiddeninsidethewomanI’vebecome.Thatgirlisdead.I
wouldn’tknowhowtobeherifItriedandI’mnotgoingtotry.Ican’t,notuntilI’ve
finishedwhatI’vestarted.

Andmaybenoteventhen.

Hope,faith,andasoftheartmadethatgirlweak.Irefusetobeweakagain.IfIhaveto

choosebetweenhappinessandstrength,Ichoosestrength.Ichoosetobehardandcold
andreadytofightmyownbattleswithoutanyoneelsetoprotectordisappoint.

Dannywouldn’tlovethepersonIamanyway,Ithink,thethoughtsendingasharp

feelingspreadingthroughmychest.Heshouldgoandsparebothofusanexerciseinpain
andfutility.

Finally,afterfiveendlessminutesthatseemtostretchonforaneternity,Ihearthefire

escapecreakasDannyclimbsdowntothestreetbelow.Ihearthesoftthudofbootson
concreteashelandsandthesoftertreadashewalksaway.OnlywhenI’mcertainhe’s
gonedoIletmyselfcrawlbackontothebedandcurlupinaballsotightmyabdomen
crampsandmyspinestartstoache.

Ipressmyfisttomyclosedmouthandfighttosteadymybreath,butIdon’tthinkabout

DannyandIdon’tcry.

Ihaven’tcriedinayearandI’mnotgoingtostartnow.

Iamgoingtobreathe,sleep,andthengetupinthemorningandtrytoforgetIeversaw

themanIusedtothinkwouldbemyforever.

CHAPTERFOUR

Danny

“IfIloveyou,whatbusinessisitofyours?”

-Goethe

Ifthishadeverbeenaboutme,Imighthavekeptwalking.

IfI’dcometoCostaRicalookingforSam,insteadofthemonsterswhohurther,her

dismissalwouldhavecutmeapart.Theonlythingworsethannotknowingwheresheisor
howsheisorifsheneedsmeislookingintothebigblueeyesofthewomanIloveand
seeing…nothing.

Nolove.Nohate.Nosadnessorregret.

Noemotionatallasidefromthecleardesireformetoleaveandnevercomeback.

IhadthoughtIwasfrozenontheinside,toocoldtofeelmuchofanythinganymore,but

thepasttwodayshaveprovenotherwise.FromthemomentIspottedSamattheairport,
mypulsehasbeenunsteady.

MyheartraceseverytimeIspothernewlyblondheadbobbingthroughacrowd.My

throatlocksupwithfeareverytimeIwatchhermakeanotherdangerousdecision.And
lastnight,meetinghereyesthroughtheglassandrealizingImeannothingtoher,Ifelt
likeIwasgoingtodie.

MaybeIdiddie,alittle.

Ifeellikeit.

Everymuscleinmybodyaches,myeyesareblood-shotandthrobbing,andmystomach

churnsandspits,protestingeverydrinkofcoffeeIforcedownmythroat.ButIdon’tgo
backtomyhotelroomontheothersideoftowntosleepitoff.Istayonthesour-smelling
couchinTheAllegroHotellobby,watchingthestairs,waitingforSam.

There’snootherwayoutofherroomexceptthefireescapeandIdoubtshe’llgothat

route.Shewon’texpectmetobehere.

Ialmostwasn’t.

Idon’tknowhowlongIwalkedbeforeIfinallystoppedandturnedaround,onlythatit

wasnearmorningandIhadtotakeacabbacktothehotelbecauseIwassolost.Butas
soonasIsatmyassdownonthiscouch,Iknewitwastherightchoice.Myhurtandpain
don’tmatter.TherewillbetimetomournthedeathofwhatSamandIhadlaterafterI

makesureshedoesn’tspendtherestofherlifeinprison.

Ifinishmycoffeeandsitstaringatthepeelingpaintonthewallbehindthelobbydesk.

Theclerklostinterestinmeanhouragoandisbusyshufflingpapersandtypingnumbers
intoacalculatorwithaprinterattachment,thekindthatmakesachuggingsoundevery
timehehitsenter.Thesoundisoddlymeditative,andbythetimeIhearfamiliarfootsteps
onthestairs,I’masclosetoaZenstateasI’mevergoingtoachievewhileI’minthesame
roomasSam.

Leaningbackagainstthemildewingcushions,Iwatchherdescendthecrackedmarble

stairs,byfarthenicestfeatureofthisrun-downhotel.Inapairofkhakishortsandawhite
tanktop,withherhairpulledbackinabraid,sheshouldn’ttakemybreathaway,butshe
does.

She’sasbeautifulasever,morebeautifulinsomeways.She’salwaysbeenstrong,but

nowshe’sripped,withtonedarmsandchiseledlegsthatleavenodoubtshe’saforcetobe
reckonedwith.Andthewaysheholdsherself,withhermuscledshouldersrolledbackand
herchinup,isthesexiestthingI’veeverseen.

Mygirlisbeautifulandstronganddeterminednottotakeanymoreshitfromtheworld.

Shewillalwaysbemygirl.

Iwillalwaysloveher,evenifherloveformeisoneofthethingsshe’shadtoburnaway

inordertorisefromtheashesofwhatthoseanimalsdidtoher.

Sheshiftshergazeasshedescendsthestairs,notlookingsurprisedwhenshespotsme

onthecouch.Shehesitatesonthelaststepforamomentbeforesteppingdownand
startingmyway,butshedoesn’tflinchorfrown.

Whenshestopsinfrontofmeherfaceissmoothandexpressionlessandhereyesas

emptyastheywerelastnight,bulbswithburnedoutfilamentsincapableofflickeringto
life.

“Youshouldn’tbehere,”shesaid.“Youshouldgo.”

“I’mhereforthesamereasonyouare.”Ikeepmyvoicesoftandeven,despitetheway

myheartisracing.“We’llbebetteroffifweworktogether.”

Samshakesherhead.“Idon’tneedorwantyourhelp.”

“Youmaynotwantit,butyouneedit.”Istand,lookingdownintohertannedface,gut

churningharderasIfighttheurgetoreachoutandtouchher.Itfeelssowrongtobeso
closebutstillheldatadistance.“I’vebeenfollowingyousinceyougothere.Icanguess
whatyourplanisandit’snotgoingtowork.”

“It’sgoingtoworkjustfine,”shesayswithcalmassurance.“IknowwhatI’mdoing.

I’mnotthepersonIwasbefore.Iknowhowtohandlemyself.”

“Idon’tdoubtit,butwecanfindabetterway.Youdon’thavetoputyourselfatrisk.We

cangetthejobdoneandstillbefreetowalkaway.”

Shetiltsherchintoonesideashereyebrowspinchclosertogether.“Whatdoyou

want?”

“Thesamethingyouwant,”Isay,thenaddinawhisper,“AndIwanttomakesureyou

don’tgetkilledorsenttoprisonfortherestofyourlifedoingit.IswearI’mnothereto
makeanydemands.Ijustwanttohelp.”

Herfrowndeepensasshecastsaglanceoverhershoulderattheclerk,whosecalculator

isstillclickingandwhirring,beforeturningbacktome.“Wecan’ttalkaboutthishere.I
washeadingoutoftownfortheday.Youcancomeifyouwant.”

Inodandmyshouldersrelaxalittleforthefirsttimesinceshepulledthecurtainlast

night.“Allright.”

“ButI’mnotmakinganypromises,”shewarns,hitchingherbackpackhigheronher

shoulder.“Andafterwe’vetalked,ifIaskyoutoleaveagain,Ineedyoutolistenanddo
asIask.”

Ihesitate,butfinallynodagain.

I’mnotleavinguntilIknowshe’ssafe,nomatterwhatshesays,butthere’snosensein

havingthatfightrightnow.IlearnedtochoosemybattleswhenwewereacoupleandI
sensethat’sanevenmoreimportantskillnowthatwe’re…whateverwearenow.

Nothing.You’renothingtoher.Shedoesn’tcareifyouliveordie.

Ignoringtheuglyvoiceinmyhead,IfollowSamoutsideintothebrightmorninglight,

wheretheairisalreadybeginningtosteamandthesidewalktosizzle.Sammaynotbe
capableofcaringaboutmeanymore,butthat’snotherfault.It’stheirfault,andmaybe
oncethey’regone,thingswillbedifferent.

Ornot.Itreallydoesn’tmatter.

Allthatmattersismakingsurejusticeisserved.

CHAPTERFIVE

Sam

“Knowthyself?IfIknewmyself,I’drunaway.”

-Goethe

Wedon’tspeakmuchonthedriveouttotheabandonedairstrip.

Dannystaresoutthewindowascitybuildingsgivewaytoscrubbygrasslandontheway

tothelushjunglenotfarfromtown.IconcentrateonfollowingthedirectionsIwrote
downlastnightandignoringtheDannysmellthatfillsthecar,makingeverybreathan
exerciseinforgetting.

Forgettinghowthatsmellwasoncethebest,thesafest,thesexiestsmell.

Forgettingwhatitfeltliketowakeupandhavehisspiceandsea-saltscentbethefirst

thingtofillmynose.ForgettinghowIlovedtoburrowclosertohisbareskin,pressmy
cheektohislightlyfurredchest,andrelishthefirstfewsleepymomentsofthedaywith
themanIloved.

Forthefirsttimeinmonths,Ifeeltheghostoftheoldmeshiftbeneathmyskin,whisper

throughmyblood.

BythetimewereachtheturnofftowhereI’veplannedtostartmytargetpractice,my

bodyfeelslikealimbthat’sbeenasleeptoolong,fightingitswaybacktolife.The
hummingoflong-dormantsensationspricklingacrossmyskinisasunwantedasitis
painfulandmakesmeresentDanny’spresencemorethanIdidwhenwegotinthecaran
hourago.

Idon’twanttowakeup.Idon’twanttocomebacktolife.

Ineedtostaydead,cold,numb.IneedtostayfocusedandhavingDannyaroundis

goingtomakethatimpossible.

Itdoesn’tmatterifheapprovesofmyplanorhowmuchhewantstohelp.Ineedhimto

go.Ishouldneverhaveinvitedhimtocomewithmetoday.Ishouldhaveshownhimthe
doorandsaidwhateverittooktomakehimleavemealone.

Attheendofthedustyroadleadingtotheoldairstrip,Ipullinbehindafewlowtrees

nearthechainlinkfenceandshovethecarintoparkwitharoughjerkofmyarm.Myjaw
isclenchedsotightmyteetharegrindingtogetherandIsuddenlywanttopunch
something,thewayIdidintheearlydays,rightafterthetrialended.

Backthen,IwassofullofangerIwouldspendhoursatmypunchingbag,beatingthe

shitoutofthefoamfilledleatheruntilIwascoveredwithsweatandtremblingwith
exhaustion.SomenightsIwouldn’tevenmakeittomypalletinthecorner.I’dfallasleep
onthefloorinapuddleofmyownsweatandwakeupinthemorningstiff,sticky,andso
soreIcouldbarelybreathe.

Butthatwasokay.Therewasnoonetheretojudgeorexpectanythingofme.Itwasjust

me,mypain,mymission,andwhateverittooktokeepgoing.

Ilearnedtobegratefulforthat,tobecontentwiththesimple,spareexistenceleftbehind

aftereverythingbuthatewascutaway.

AndnowDannyishere,lookingbeautifulandsad,smellingthewayhesmells,shitting

allovermyfocuswithhisgentlevoiceandhisdeterminedwordsandthewayhelooksat
melikeallhewantsintheworldistoholdme.

“Areyougoingtotalk?”IsnapasIreachbetweentheseatsandgrabmybackpackoffof

thefloor.“Ithoughtthatwasthereasonyouwerehere.”

“I’mnotinanybighurry,”hesayssmoothly,unruffledbymyflashoftemper.“I’dlike

toseeyoushootfirst.That’swhywe’rehere,right?Soyoucantryoutthegunyoubought
lastnight.”

Istiffen.“IfCarloshadseenyou,youcouldhavegottenusbothkilled.Iwastoldto

comealoneandheisn’tthekindofmanwhotoleratespeopledisobeyingorders.”

“Obviously,buthedidn’tseeme.NeitherdidyouandI’dbeenfollowingyouforthe

betterpartoftwodays,”hesays.“I’mbetteratsneakingaroundthanyouare.Whichis
oneofthereasonsyouneedme.”

“Idon’tneedtobegoodatsneakingaround.Ijustneedtobeintherightplaceatthe

righttimeandhaveenoughammunition.”Iliftmychinandmeethisgaze,tryingnotto
thinkabouthowfamiliarhisgreeneyesare.Asfamiliarasmyoldfaceinthemirror,back
beforeToddandhisfriendsputmymetamorphosisintomotion.“Youmightaswellsave
yourbreath.I’mnotgoingtochangemymind.”

Dannyshrugs,oneofthoseshrugsthatcouldmeananythingornothing,andreachesfor

thedoorhandle.“Let’sgoshootsomething.Maybeyou’llfeellikelisteningafter.”

Barelysuppressingagrowloffrustration,Iswingoutofthecarandslamthedoor

behindme,leadingthewaydownthetrailtwistingintothejunglewithoutlookingbackto
seeifDannyisfollowing.Iknowheis,justasIknowitwillbehelltogetridofhimifhe
doesn’twanttogo.He’stheonlypersonI’veevermetmorestubbornthanIam.

OrmorestubbornthanIusedtobe,anyway.

HemightbesurprisedhowfarI’llgotogetmypointacrossnow.Idon’twanttohaveto

frightenhimaway,butifheleavesmenochoice…

Itakeadeepbreathandquickenmypace,notwantingtogotherejustyet.

Accordingtomyresearch,there’sashallowcanyonattheendofthetrail,tuckedbehind

theoldairstrip.Intheforties,beforetheCostaRicanmilitarywasdisbanded,thearmy
usedtotestweaponsoutthere.

Localgossipholdsthatthegroundispoisonedwitholdbiologicalwarfareagents.The

canyonissupposedlystillbeautiful,butthelocalsavoidit,andsinceit’sontheflightpath
ofcommercialplanes,thedruglordsdothesame.Someonemightnoticeafewacresof
weedgrowingoutinthemiddleofnowhere,butthefoliageshouldmakesurenoone
noticesonewomandownbetweentherocksshootingshit.

Therearenomonkeyshangingfromthetreespressinginonthetrail,butasweget

closertothecanyon,thecalloftoucansandtheothertropicalbirdsmakesitfeellike
we’reathousandmilesfromcivilization.Justaroundaturn,ascarletflashfluttersacross
thetrailasaparrotlandsonalowlimbandfansitswingswide,stretchinginthemorning
sun.

Dannypausesbehindme,gruntingsoftlyasthebirdsquawksdownatusfromabove.

EvenI—asfocusedonthedestination,notthejourney,asIam—can’tkeepfrom

stoppingtoadmirethecreatureforamoment.I’veneverseenanythinglikeitoutsideofa
zooorapetstore.It’ssobeautiful,sooverthetopgorgeouswithitsbrilliantfeathersthat
it’salmostmagical.

“RememberwhenweusedtotalkaboutsurfingourwaythroughSouthAmerica?”

Dannysaysfromovermyshoulder.“Ibroughtmyboard.Ifyouwanttogooutlater,we
couldswapout.Ihearthere’sagoodbreaknotfarfromtown.”

Iglanceathim,toostunnedbythesuggestiontoformaresponse.

“Justbecauseyou’reheretokillpeopledoesn’tmeanyoucan’thaveagoodtime,too,”

hesays,mouthcurvinginalopsidedsmile.

Ishakemyhead.“Thisisn’tagame.”

“Iknowit’snot,”hesays,smilefading.“It’snotagame,andifyougetcaughtwiththat

gun,youcouldspendeightyearsinjail.”

Mylipspart,buthepushesonbeforeIcangetawordin.

“Youdon’tevenhavetoshootanyonewithit.Justhavingitinyourpossessionwouldbe

enough.”Hestepscloser,sendinghisDannysmellswirlingaroundmealloveragain.
“Theydon’tfuckaroundwithgunlawshere.Evencitizenshavetojumpthroughhoopsto
ownagunandgetputinjailifthey’recaughtwithanillegalweapon.”

“I’mnotgoingtogetcaught.”

“TheSeasonshasitsownsecurityteam,”hesays.“Didyouknowthat?Andfromwhat

I’veseensofar,they’rebetterorganizedthanthelocalpolice.Ifyoushootfourmenon
theirproperty,thechancesofyougettingoffthepropertybeforetheycatchyouareslimto
none.”

“Idon’tcare,”Isay,angrythatheknowssomethingIdon’twhenallI’vedoneforthe

pastyearisprepareforthis.“AslongasItakecareofthemfirst.”

“Soyouwanttoendupinjail?”Hiseyesnarrow.“Howdoesthateventhescales?Ifyou

endupgoingtoprisonfortherestofyourlifeformurder?”

“Itoldyou,aslongasthey’redead,Idon’tcare.”

“Wellyoushould,”Dannysays,heatinhistoneforthefirsttimesinceheshowedupat

theworstpossiblemoment.“Becauseyoudeservetohavealifeafterthis.Areallife.Not
dyingisn’tthesameasliving,Sam.Youknowthat.Youhavetoknowit.”

Isqueezemyeyesshut,hatingthesoundofmynameonhislipsandthathehaspushed

metotheedgeoflosingcontrolwithafewstupidquestions.I’mbetterthanthis,harder
thanthis,andIhavetoproveittohimorhe’llneverleavemeinpeace.

Withadeepbreath,Iopenmyeyes,staringupathim,willinghimtobelievethetruth

I’mabouttotell.“Iwillneverhavethekindoflifeyou’retalkingaboutagain.It’stoolate
forthat.”

“Why?”heasksinastrainedvoice.“Whydoyouhavetogodownwiththem?Why

can’tyouletmehelpyoufindawaytodothisthatwon’tendindisaster?”

“ItoldyouIwasn’tstrongenoughtogetthroughthetrial.”Iknowthewordswillcut

himdeep,butIforcemyselfnottocare.“ButyoutoldmetogobacktoL.A.anddeal
withthemessI’dmade.SoIdid.”Iholdoutmyarms.“Andthisiswhatisleft.”

Hiseyebrowsdrawsharplytogetherandregretflashesbehindhiseyes.“Iwonderedif

youblamedme.Youhaveeveryrighttothough,inmydefense,Ihadnoidea…”

Heswallowshard.“Ididn’tknowwhatthey’ddoneandIneverdreamedthey’dget

awaywithit.”Hiseyesbegintoshine.“I’msorry,Sam,forthatandeverythingelse.”

Icrossmyarmstight,fightingthewaveofregretthatswellsbehindmyribs.“Itdoesn’t

matternow.LikeIsaid,it’stoolate.Apologiesaren’tgoingtochangethingsandIdon’t
wantyouhere,Danny.Irefusetodraganyoneelseintothis.IfI’monmyown,thenno
oneelsegetshurt.”

“Youcan’tbeserious.”Hestepscloser,hisbreathrushingoutinsomethingtoopainful-

soundingtobealaugh.“AllI’vedoneishurt.Hurtandhurtandgohalfoutofmymind
wonderingwhereyouareandifyou’reokay.AndthenIsawyouattheairportandI
thought…”

Heshakeshishead,lookingsolostIcan’thelpbutfeelbadforhim.“Ithoughtitwasa

sign.Thatweweregoingtoclimboutofthishelltogether.”

Icringeatthethoughtof“together,”ofhowcloseandterrifyingthatsounds.

“Notlikethat,”hesays,apparentlystillabletoreadmymind.“Yes,Istillloveyou.I’m

nevergoingtostoplovingyou,butifyoudon’twantmeanymore,I’mnotgoingtopush.”
Hisvoicebreaksonthefinalword,butwhenhecontinuesit’ssteady.“I’llleaveyou
alone,butIhavetomakesureyou’resafefirst.Ihaveto,Sam.Ican’tlivewithanything
else.”

Hereachesup,brushingawispofhairthat’sescapedmybraidawayfrommyface,his

touchsogentleitthreatenstoshattermealloveragain.“Please.Talktome.Reallytalkto
me.Letmeinenoughtohelpkeepyousafe.”

“Idon’tbelieveinsafe,”Iwhisper,resistingtheurgetoleanintohisbig,warmhand.

“Safetyisanillusion.Noonecankeepanyoneelsesafe,nomatterhowhardtheytry.”

Dannynods.“You’reright,butIcankeepyousafer.IknowIcan,ifyou’llgivemethe

chance.AttheveryleastIcanbeyouralibi.”

Ihesitate,myresolvewavering.

IfImakeitbacktomyhotelaftertheshootingwithoutgettingcaught,analibiwouldbe

agoodthingtohave,andDannywouldn’thavetobeinanydanger.Hecouldstayinthe
room,andifanyoneasks,hesaysIwastherewithhim.Nothingdangerousaboutthat.

ExcepthavingDannyinyourroom,sleepingnexttoyou,breathingthesameair,

remindingyouwhatit’slikenottobealone.

“Don’tanswernow,”hesays,cuttingmeoffbeforeIcantellhimnoagain.“Let’sget

targetpracticetakencareof,makesurethegun’snotgoingtoexplodeinyourfacethe
firsttimeyoutrytofireit,andgofromthere.AndwhileweshootIcanfillyouinon
someofthethingsI’vebeenthinking.”

“Itisn’tgoingtoexplode,”Isay.“Andyou’renotallowedtoshootit.Myprintsarethe

onlyprintsthatareevergoingtobeonthisgun.”

Hislipscurveagain.“Anyoneevertellyouyou’vegotabossystreak?”

Ianswerhisattemptatajokewithablanklook.

Iwillnotjokewithhim;Iwillnotlaughwithhim.Iwillnotlethimpastmydefensesor

givehimanyreasontohopeformorethanabriefconnectionbeforewegoourseparate
ways.

Afteramoment,hissmilediminishesthoughitdoesn’tcompletelydisappear.“Allright.

Noteasing.”

“Thecanyonisstillaboutamileahead.”Ihitchmypackhigheronmyshoulder.“We

shouldgetgoing.I’dliketohaveatleastanhourtoshootbeforeitgetsreallyhot.”

Heholdsoutanarm,motioningtowardthepath.“Leadtheway.”

Istartbackdownthepath,withDannynotfarbehind,butIknowbetterthantothink

thatmeansI’mleading.Dannyhashisownagendaandhewon’tgiveupaseasilyashe’s
pretending.Therewasatimewhenhewaswrappedaroundmyfinger,butIwaseverybit
aswrappedaroundhis.He’salwaysbeenabletogettomelikenooneelse,andI’mgoing
tohavetobeverycarefulifIwanttoavoidbeingmanipulated.

I’mgoingtohavetorememberthat,nomatterhowfamiliarthisfeels,thereisnoDanny

andSamanymore.

Thatwasthepastandthereisnoroomforthepastinthehereandnow.

CHAPTERSIX

Danny

“Byseekingandblundering,welearn.”

-Goethe

IspendanhourandahalfwatchingSamblastrocksofvarioussizestopieces.Shetakes

evermoredifficultshotswithoutmissing,untilIhavetoadmitthataslongasshe’slucky
enoughtocatchallofhertargetsoutintheopenatthesametime,shehasanexcellent
chanceoftakingthemout.

She’sanamazingmarkswoman,butI’mnotsurprised.

Samhasalwaysbeenexcellentateverythingshedoes.Whetheritwassurfing,school,

tutoringkids,orlovingme,shewasthebestofthebest.

ApartofmeistornupthatthegirlIloveisnowthebestatshootingsniperrifles,

holdingpeopleatadistance,andstaringtheworld’scruelestrealitiesinthefacewithout
flinching,butIcan’tgiveintothatkindofthinking.

That’snothowI’mgoingtowinSam’scooperation,letaloneanotherchanceatgetting

closetoher.IhavetoshowherthatIunderstandwhatshe’sgoingthroughbecauseI’ve
walkedeverystepthroughhellrightbesideher.Wemightnothavebeeninthesametime
zone,butIwasalwayswithher.Shewasnevermorethanaminuteortwofrommy
thoughts,eveninthedarkhourswhenIthoughtCaitlinmightdieandmybabyniece
alongwithher.

Besides,we’llbothhaveabetterchanceofgettingthisdonerightifwecreateanew

plan.Myplanhadholesandhersdoes,too,buttogetherweshouldbeabletocomeup
withsomethingthatensurespunishmentisdispensedwhilewewalkawayunscathed.

AfterSamhasburnedthroughaboxofammunition,shejoinsmeintheshadebeneatha

thicklyrootedtreeonthehilloverlookingthecanyonandpullswaterandabunchof
bananasfromherbackpack.Wesharethefoodanddrink,watchingthebirdsreturntothe
canyonnowthatthegunhasgonesilent.Ikeepmypeaceandgiveherspace,waitinguntil
IcansenseherrelaxingintothedrowsyheatbeforeIspeak.

“Thereareworsethingsthandeath.”Irollupmybananapeelandtossitontothedusty

ground,keepingmyeyesonthestunningsceneryinfrontofus.“Bothofusknowthat.”

“Thereare,”sheagrees.“Butdeadmencan’taccusemeofacrime.”

“Neithercanmenwhohavenoideayou’reinthesamecountrythattheyare.Thereare

waystomakethemsufferthatwillleavetheminthedark.Atleastatfirst.Ihadafew
thoughtsaboutthatwhileIwassittinghere.”

ShetakesabreathandIbracemyselfforanotherprompttomindmyownbusiness,but

insteadshesays,“Whatdidyouhaveinmind?”

“Doyouthinktheguywhosoldyoutheguncouldgetdrugs,too?”

“Yes,”shesays,withouthesitation.“Hecould,butwhywouldwewantthem?”

“Thedruglawshereareevenmoreintensethanthegunlaws.”Icrossmylegsatthe

anklesandstudymyboots.“Allwe’dhavetodoisplantakiloofcocaineonsomeone
you’dliketoseespendadecadeinaCostaRicanprisonandmakesurethecopsknow
wheretofindhim.”

Shenodsslowly.“Scott.I’vebeengoingbackandforthonwhattodowithhim.He

didn’twanttojoinin,Icouldtell.Buthedidbecausehe’lldoanythingToddtellshimto
do.”

Mymouthfillswiththesourtastethatalwaysaccompaniesthoughtsoffourmentaking

turnsviolatingSam.

MySam.Mybestfriendwhoisnowastrangertome,allbecauseofwhatfourfratfucks

startedandanignorantL.A.juryfinished.

“Orwecanshoothimfullofsomuchcokeheoverdosesandmakeitlooklikean

accident,”Iaddinahardervoice.“Ifyouwantthemdead,thentheyshouldbedead.They
deserveitanditwouldn’tbeawaste.Amanwhowoulddosomethinglikethatdoesn’t
haveanythingworthwhiletobringtotheworld.”

Sheglancesoveratme,herexpressiongentling.“You’reagoodman.”

“No,I’mnot.”Ifighttheurgetotakeherhandandthreadmyfingersthroughhersthe

wayIusedto.“I’vebeendaydreamingaboutkillingthemeversinceIfoundoutwhat
happened.It’sallI’vebeenabletothinkabout.ThatandifI’deverseeyouagain.”

Hergazedropstothedirtbeneathus,whereagiantbeetlehasfoundmybananapeeland

iscrawlinginsidetoinvestigate.“Iwouldn’thavebeenanygoodforyou.ButI’msorryI
didn’tletyouknowIwasokay.”

Unabletoresist,Ilaymyhandoverhers,chesttighteningwithreliefwhensheallowsit.

“Youdon’thavetoapologize.I’mtheonewhoshouldapologize,forbeingsuchan
assholethatlastnightinTaupo.Ihatedmyselfforitthenextday.Ihaven’thadadrink
since.”

“Meeither.Idon’tdrinkanymore.”Sheslidesherhandoutfromundermineandstands,

pacingafewstepsawaybeforeturningbacktofaceme.“So,saywegetScottsenttojail.
Dotherestofthemstayandfinishtheirvacation?”

“Youknowtheywould,”Isay,lipcurling.“Theywon’tgiveashitifoneoftheir

brothersisintrouble.They’llsayhebroughtitonhimself,callalawyerifthey’reina
generousmood,andleavehimtotwistwhiletheydrinkbeerbythepool.”

Shenibblesthepadofherthumb.“Wouldalawyerbeabletogethimout?”

“Maybe,”Iadmit.“Butnotbeforehespendsayearormoreinjailwaitingforatrial

date.FromwhatI’veread,itseemsliketheCostaRicancourtstrytobefair,butthey’re
notrealconcernedwithquick.TherearetenU.S.citizensintheprisoninSanJose
awaitingtrialrightnow.Someondrugcharges,butsomeforsmallerstufflikedestruction
ofpropertyorunpaidchildsupport.Allofthemhavebeenlockedupmorethanayear.”

“Ayear.”Shetiltsherheadbackwithasigh,gazingupattheleaveswhisperingabove

ourheadswhileshemumblessomethingabout“goingsoft”thatIcan’tquitemakeout.

“What?”

Hergazereturnstomyface.“IcanlivewithScottspendingayearinprison,buttherest

ofthemdon’tgetoffthateasy.J.D.andJeremyneedsomethingworseandTodddoesn’t
livetohurtanyoneagain.He’stheonewhomadeithappen.He’stheleader.Withouthim,
therestwouldhavebackedoff.”

Inod.“SowedoJ.D.andJeremy—”

“IdoJ.D.andJeremy,”shecorrects.“Youcanhelpwiththeplansandbemyalibi,but

that’sasfarasitgoes.IfI’mcaught,I’mcaughtalone.”

“Idon’twanttoleaveyoualone.”Iwanttopullherintomyarmsandholdheruntilthe

layeroffrostcoveringherheartmeltsaway.“Don’tyouthinkyou’vespentenoughtime
alone?”

“I’mserious,”shesays,staringmedown.“Ifyoucan’tpromisemeyou’llstayoutofthe

seriousshitandmeanit,thenyouneedtoleave.I’mnotgoingtochangemymindabout
that.”

“Fine,”Iagree,knowingIshouldbegratefulI’vegottenhertobendthisfar.“Youdo

J.D.andJeremyatthesametimeandweworkoutawaytomakewhateverhappenslook
likeanaccident.”

“AndthenwegetToddrightafter,”shesays,pacingbackandforthattheedgeofthe

shade.“Beforehehastimetoconnectthedotsandrealizehe’sthelastmanstanding.No
poeticjusticeforhim,justsomethingswiftandfinal.Andthenwebothleavethecountry
thenextday.”

“Soundsgood.”

Sheturnsbacktome,headdriftingtoonesideasshestudiesme.“Doesit?Really?”

“Theleavingthecountrypart.Andknowingit’sfinallyover,”Isay,admiringtheway

thesunfilteringthroughtheleavescatchesthegoldinherhair.“Iliketheblond.Istill
lovethebrownbest,butthislooksgoodonyou.Makesyoureyesseemevenbluer.”

“Don’t,”Samsays,hervoicesoft.

“Don’twhat?”Iask,feigninginnocence.

“Youknowwhat.That’spartofthebargaintoo.Ifyoustay,youstayasapartneronthis

project.Nothingmore.”

Myjawtightens.“Projectisaweirdwordtodescribeframing,maiming,andkilling,

don’tyouthink?”

Shefrowns,butIspeakbeforeshehasachancetolaydownanymorerules.

“I’mgoodwithpartners.”Icometomyfeetandreachdowntopickupherbag.“ButI

can’tplotanymoreuntilI’vegotsomethingmorethanabananainmystomach.Let’sgo
getsomelunch.Mytreat.”

“Allright,butwegetsomethingintown,notbyanyofthebeachresorts,”shesays,

fallinginbesidemeasIstartbacktowardtherentalcar.“TheSBEbrothersaren’tdueto
landuntilnextweek,butI’vebeenstayingawayfromtheairportandbeachessoIdon’t
starttolookfamiliartopeopleoverthere.”

“Iknow,”Isay.“I’vebeenfollowingyou.Andwatchingyoueatnexttonothing.Asfar

asIcouldtellyou’rerunningonbananas,coffee,andtheoccasionalbagoffriedcheese
bread.”

Sheliftsashoulder.“I’mlowonfunds.TheroomattheresortnexttoTheSeasonsnext

weekcostsafortune.Imadeatwothousanddollardeposit,buttherestofthebalanceis
dueatcheck-in.It’sanotherfourthousandandthat’salmostallIhaveleft.”

Icurse.“That’sridiculous.Isittoolatetocancel?Youcouldcomestaywithme.I’vegot

alittlecabinatthishippiecompoundnearthenationalpark,wherethecompanyI’m
workingforhousestheirguides.It’sonlyafive-minutedrivefromTheSeasons.”

“You’reworkinghere?”sheasks,glancingupatme,obviouslysurprised.

Ismile.“I’monstaffatExtremeCanopyZipLineAdventureToursforthenextweek

andahalf.TheyneededsomeonetotraintheirstaffoncliffcampingandIneededanalibi.
Figureditwasagoodmatch.”

Samshakesherhead,butIcantellshe’simpressed.“You’vereallythoughtthis

through.”

“Icomefromalonglineofpeoplewhodon’tmindoperatingoutsidethelaw,”Isay,the

conversationremindingmeofmytalkwithmysisterandthethingsshemademepromise.
“IwantedtogoafterthemassoonasIfoundoutwhathappened,butCaitlinwarnedmeto
waitatleastayear,givethemachancetodroptheirguardandmakesureIdidn’tgooff
half-cocked.Ihadafewbrokenfingersatthetime,too,sothatwasn’tidealforstrangling
peoplewithmybarehands.”

Samgrabsahandfulofmyteeshirt,holdingtightasshesuddenlystopsinthemiddleof

thetrail.

Iturntofaceher,everynerveinmybodypricklingwithawareness.Sheisn’teven

touchingmyskin,butthisisthefirsttimeshe’sinstigatedphysicalcontactandmygut
desperatelywantstobelieveitmeanssomething,evenifmyheadknowsbetter.

“Iwouldhavedonethesamethingforyou,”shesays,lightflickeringbehindhereyes,

makingmethinkmaybeherhearthasn’tgonedarkforeverafterall.“I’mnotthatperson
anymore,butIremember…”

Shetakesabreathandletsitoutslowly.

Bythetimetheexhalationisfinished,hereyesareshutteredoncemoreandherhandhas

droppedbacktoherside.“That’swhyIknewIhadtoletyoustay.Andhelp.Iwouldwant

thesameifIwasinyourposition.Ican’toffermuch,butIcanofferthat.”

Iwanttotouchhersobadlyit’shelltokeepmyhandstomyself.

IwanttocupherfaceinmyhandsandtellherIhavenodoubtthatshewouldhavegone

tohellandbacktoprotectmeifshecould,oravengemeifshecouldn’t.Iwanttotellher
thatIwishithadbeenme.ThatIwishIcouldtakeeverythingshe’ssufferedintomyself
andspareher.

Iwoulddoitinaheartbeat.

Iwoulddoanythingforher.

Andthat’swhyIkeepmyarmsatmysidesandsay,“Thankyou,”butnothingmore.

Rightnow,Samcan’thandlemore.Butmaybesomeday,whenallofthisisover…

She’sgivenmenoreasontohope,butIcan’thelpit.

WhenyoulovesomeonethewayIloveher,hoperefusestodie,nomatterhowmany

timesit’skickedtothedirt.HopewillkeepmereachingoutforSam,againandagain,for
aslongasIhavehandsbecausetherearesomedreamsapersoncan’tgiveupon,no
matterwhat.

CHAPTERSEVEN

Sam

“Nonearemorehopelesslyenslaved

thanthosewhofalselybelievetheyarefree.”

-Goethe

GettingintouchwithCarlosagainiseasierthanIexpected.

Thefirsttime,ourmeetingwasarrangedviatextsbetweentwoburnerphones.Idon’t

expectthenumberhegavemetoworkagain,butonlyminutesafterhittingsendonatext
askingaboutmakinganotherpurchase—thistimeasizableamountofcocaine—Igeta
reply.

IleanintowhispertoDannyacrossourtable.“Hesayshecandoakiloforthree

thousanddollars.”

We’reatoneofthemanyoutdoorcafésnearthecitycenter.Thewindisblowingandno

oneisseatedcloseenoughtooverhearourconversation,butI’mmoreanxiousaboutthe
drugdealthanIwasthegun.Butthen,thepenaltiesforgettingcaughtwiththatmuch
cocainearemoreseverethangettingcaughtwithanassaultrifle.I’mgoingtobe
vulnerableuntilIunloadthedrugsonScott.

It’sarisk,buthopefully,aslongasI’mcareful,I’llbeokay.

ThemoreIthinkaboutit,themoretheideaofScottbehindbarsfeelsliketheright

thing.Foraspinelesstoadlikehim,evenalongweekendinacagewithrealcriminalswill
beenoughtomakehimshithispantsseveraltimesover.Afterayearinaforeignjail,he’ll
bescarredforlifeanddeterminednevertodoanythingthatmightlandhiminlockup
again.

“Ifyoucancelyourreservationfornextweekandstaywithme,we’llhaveenoughwith

someleftover,”Dannysays,pullingmefrommythoughts.“OrIcouldpayforit.Itwould
justbeamatteroffiguringouthowtowithdrawthecash.I’vebeenlivingwithCaitlinand
GabethepastyearsoIcouldhelpoutwiththebaby.I’vesavedalotofmoneynotpaying
rent.”

“Howisthebaby?”Iask,thequestionoutbeforeIthinkbetterofit.

It’snotagoodideatoletthingsbetweenDannyandIgetpersonal,butIcan’thelpbut

wonderaboutthenewestmemberofhisfamily.Irememberhowexcitedhewas,howhe

keptcallinghissisterfromNewZealandtoseeifthebabyhadbeenborn.

ItfeelslikesomuchlongerthanayearsincewelandedinNewZealand,inthatplace

where,forafewblissfullyignorantdays,IthoughtDannyandIweregoingtohavea
chanceatafuturetogether.Wherewe’dbeenhappy,despitetheliesandarguments.
Wherewe’dmadeloveallnightandthenspentaperfectdayontheriver,feelinglikeall
thebestthingsinlifewereoursforthetaking.

Ithurtstoremember,butIcan’tseemtohelpit,notwithDannysittinginfrontofme,

withthesuninhishairandthatfamiliargrinonhislips.

“Julietisthebest,”hesays,hisloveforhisniecemakinghisfacelightup.“Beautiful,

bossy,andsupersmart.Andshe’sgotthislaughlikeavelociraptorscreechfromthoseold
JurassicParkmovies.It’sthewildestthing.I’vegotavideoonmyphoneifyouwantto
hearit.”

Ishakemyhead,forcingmygazebacktowhat’sleftofmyplateoffishtacos.“No,

that’sokay.”

Ican’twatchavideoofDanny’snieceandgigglewithhimoverhersillylaugh.Ican’t

evenmakeeyecontactwithhimrightnow.

He’sthekindofmanwhoturnsheadswhenwewalkdownthestreet—withhislong

blondhairpulledbackinalowponytail,handsomeface,andsculptedbodythatmanages
tobeelegantandintimidatingatthesametime.

Butwhenhesmileslikethat,withalltheloveinhisbigheartondisplay,he’sstunning.

Heartbreaking.

Almostirresistible.

It’snotagoodideaformetostaywithhimathiscabin—hemesseswithmyfocus,and

atatimelikethis,focuscouldmeanthedifferencebetweenfreedomandlifebehindbars
—butIrefusetolethimemptyhissavingsforme.Irefusetotakeanythingfromhim.I’ve
alreadystolentoomuch.

“I’llcancelmyreservationfornextweekandusethatmoneytopayforthedrugs,”Isay,

determinedtogetusbackontrack.“ItsoundslikeCarloscanmeetuptomorrow,butwhat
doIdowiththecokeonceIhaveit?Ican’tkeepitatmyhotelwiththemaidscomingin
andoutduringtheday.”

Dannypopsthelastbiteofhissixthtacointohismouthandchewsthoughtfully.Clearly

planningillegalactivitiesdoesn’tinterferewithhisappetite.

“Thecommuneisprettychill,”hesays.“Justabunchofpeopledeterminedtokeeptheir

livessimpleandplayforalivingasmuchaspossible.Mycabinisattheedgeofthe
woodsandthere’snomaidservice.Idon’tseewhythestuffwouldn’tbesafethere,butwe
couldburyitinthejungleuntilwe’rereadytomoveitifyouwantto.Justtobesafe.”

Inod,pulsespeedingasIpickupthephoneandstartthumbingatexttoCarlos.“Then

I’lltellhimI’mgoodtomeettomorrow.Wecanheadbacktoyourplacerightaftertohide
it.”

BacktoDanny’splace.

Soon,I’llbesleepinginthesameroomwithanotherpersonforthefirsttimeinayear.

Andnotjustanyperson,butDanny,theonlymanI’veevermadeloveto.

Lastsummer,heprovedthatToddandtherestofthemhadn’tkilledthepartofmethat

cravedphysicalintimacy,butthatwasbeforethetrial.Ihaven’thadsomuchasahug
fromanotherhumanbeingsinceIleftL.A.,butIhaven’tmissedphysicalcontact.I’ve
beencutofffrommyownbodyexceptinthosemomentswhenaworkoutorapunching
sessionbroughteverycellviolentlytolife.Butthatlifewashardandfocused,coldforall
theheatpumpingthroughmyveins.

Ihadassumedthat’swhoIamnow,andthatthetrialhadsucceededinalienatingme

frommyownsensualityinawayeventherapehadn’t.

Sittinginthatcourtroomandtellingmystorytoaroomfulofstrangers,whilethefour

menwhoviolatedmelookedonwithhorrifiedexpressionsandinsistedtheywere
innocent,hadbeenlikelivingthroughitallagain.Butthistime,insteadofthehorror
beingmyownprivateweighttobear,I’dbeenexposedtotheentireworld.I’dbeenforced
tosharetheuglytruthandthenbeenbrandedaliar,unworthyofcompassionorjustice.

Theexperienceprovedtomethatpeople,onthewhole,arestupid,ridiculous,andcruel.

ButDannyisnoneofthosethings.

InsteadofbeinglividthatIabandonedeverythingwehadbuiltwithoutaword,he

apologizedforthatlastnightinNewZealand.Insteadofbeingtoohurttowantanything
todowithme,heflewtoCostaRicatopunishthemenwhotookourhappinessaway.
Afterayearwithnoword,Iamstillaliveinhisheart,morealivethanIaminmyown
fleshandblood.

I’vebeencoldasstoneandjustasnumb,butmaybe,ifIweretotouchhim,tolethimin,

justalittle,Icouldcomebacktolife.

Backtohim…

ThephonebuzzesnexttomyelbowandIflinch,sostartledmyarmjerksforward,

spillingmyglassofwateralloverthewhitetablecloth.

Heartpounding,Irighttheglassandtossmynapkinoverthemess,fightingtobringmy

breathundercontrolasIrescuethephonefromthepathofdestruction.

“Youokay?”Dannyasks,browfurrowingwithconcern.

“I’mfine,”Isay,teethdiggingintomybottomlipasIglancedownatthelatestmessage

frommydrugandarmsdealer.“Justthinkingtoohard.”

“Thinkingaboutwhat?”

“Nothing,stupidthings.”Iturnoffthephoneandslideitintothefrontpocketofmy

backpack.“We’regoingtomeetatfourthirtytomorrowafternoon.Sameplace.”

“Ifyoudon’twanttodoit,Icouldgoinyourplace,”Dannysays.“I’dratherifyou’lllet

me.Isawthatguy.Idon’tlikethethoughtofyoubeingalonewithhimagain.”

“I’llbefine.Ifhewasgoingtohurtme,hewouldhavetriedthefirsttime,”Isay,

pickingpiecesoficefromthetableclothandplunkingthembackintomyglass.“Ithink

he’llwanttokeepmearound,justtoseehowmuchmoremoneyhecangetfrommeif
nothingelse.Andworstcasescenario,I’vebeentrainingformonths.Iknowhowto
defendmyself.”

“Icantell,”hesays,hisgazedriftingdowntomyshouldersandbarearms.“Iwouldn’t

wanttomesswithyou.”

Hiswordssayonething,buthiseyesandthehuskytoneofhisvoicesayanother.They

sayhestillwantsmeasmuchasheeverdid.Thathe’dliketoknowwhatitfeelsliketo
havemystronger,morepowerfullegswrappedaroundhimandmymuscledbodypressed
againsthis,skintoskin.

Ishouldwarnhimtocutitoutandhonorourdealtokeepthepersonalstuffoutofthis.

ButinsteadIfindmyselfleaningcloserandsaying—

“No,youwouldn’t.BecauseIwouldkickyourass.”

Hiseyesflash.“Ohyeah?Youthinkyoucouldtakeme,Collins?”

“IknowIcould,”Isay.“Thebiggertheyare,thehardertheyfall.”

Histongueslipsout,curlingoverhisbottomlipanddrawingitbackbetweenhisteeth.

It’shisfighting-not-to-kissmeface,theonemadefamiliarfromhundredsofcarridesback
fromthebeachwhenwewerekids,whenweweresprawledinthebackseatandmydad
wassneakingpeeksatusintherearviewmirror,makingsurenoteenagersweremaking
outonhiswatch.

TheheatinDanny’seyesmakesmethinkaboutwarmlips,eagertongues,andthetaste

ofhimsweetinmymouth,andforthefirsttimeinsolong,Iwanttotouchsomeone.

Totouchhim.

Icanalreadyimaginehowperfectitwouldfeeltohavehisarmsaroundme,pullingme

intohislap,kissingmesenselessinfrontofthepeoplebustlingbyonthesidewalk,
talkingandlaughingandgoingabouttheirlivesasifthereisnothingintheworldtobe
afraidof.Notonadayliketoday,withthesunshiningandafaintoceanbreezeblowingin
fromtheseamilesawayandthemusicofstreetmusiciansfillingtheairwithalightand
happybeat.

Buttherearesomanythingstobeafraidof,andifIletmyshieldsslip,Iwillstartto

rememberthemall,andnotthewayIdonow,faintlyfrombeneathmycalluses.Iwillbe
rawandvulnerableagainandIcan’tgothere.Notnow.Maybenever,andDannydoesn’t
deservetohavehopedangledinfrontofhimandthenwrenchedaway.

Fornow,IhavetostayfreeofanypromisesbuttheonesI’vemadetothemenIwill

destroy.

SoIpushmychairback,movingawayfromDanny,nomatterhowmuchapartofme

wantstodotheopposite.“I’llcallyoutomorrowfordirectionstothecabinandseeyou
afterthedealisdone.”

“Sam,wait—”

“Thanksforlunch,”Isay,forcingasmileasIretreattomyhotelroomtorebuildmy

defenses.

ThenextdayIseeDannyonlyforthehalfhourittakestomarchthekiloofcocaineI’ve

boughtfromCarlosbackintothejungleandburyit,andforthenextthreedays,Iinsiston
doingasmuchofourcommunicationasIcanoverthephone.Whenwehavetomeetin
person,wemeetatsmallcafésthroughoutthecity,finalizingourplansinpublic.Theonly
timewespendaloneisduringtheeightmiserablehourswespendinthehotsundigginga
pitdeepenoughforamantostanduprightandnotbeabletopeerovertheedge.

AtnotimedoIallowourconversationtogetoverlypersonalorthatflirtatiousliltto

entermytoneagain.IamdeterminedtoprotectDannyfromme,eventhoughthat’s
clearlynotwhathewants.

ThemorningIcheckoutofmyhotel,onmywaytodropmythingsatthecabinbefore

DannyandIheadtotheairporttoputourfirstplanintomotion,I’mtoonervousaboutthe
cocaineinmybagtoworryaboutwhatitwillbeliketosleepinthesameroomwithhim
again.

Hepromisedtotakethebedandgivemethefoldoutcouch.Weshouldbesafeonour

separateislands,sharingthesameocean,butnevergettingcloseenoughtotouch.Iwill
staystrongandlearntoignorehissmell,hissmile,andthewaybeingclosetohimfeels
liketreadingwaterinchesfromaliferaft.

Iwillnotlethimhaulmeintosafety.

Iwillstayinthewaterwithsharksuntilthesearunsredwiththeirblood,andonlythen

willIletmyselfimaginewhatitmightbeliketonolongerbealone.

CHAPTEREIGHT

Sam

“Lifebelongstotheliving,andhewholivesmustbepreparedforchanges.”

-Goethe

WhisperingatcafétableswithDanny,thethoughtofcomingwithinarm’sreachofScott

Phillipsandthebrothersheflewinwithwasnerve-wracking,butnotterrifying.

Mostpeopleonlyseewhattheyexpecttoseeandnoneofthemenwillbeexpectingme

ataCostaRicanairport.Besides,myhairisadifferentcolorandI’mwearingawide-
brimmedstrawhat,sunglassestoconcealmyface,andapeachdress,unlikeanythingI’ve
everowned.Iwon’tberecognizableatfirstglanceandbeforeScotthasthechancetodo
morethanglance,I’llbegone.

IthoughtIwasready.

AsreadyasIwouldeverbetowalkintoanairportwithabagfilledwithcocaine.

ButnowthatScottPhillipsisstandingacrosstheairy,openbaggageclaimattheLiberia

Airport,surroundedbySigmaBetaEpsilonbrothers,I’mbreakingoutinasweatbeneath
myfilmydress.Mystomachistiedinknotsandmyhandswouldbeshakingifthey
weren’tclenchedtightaroundthecoffeeI’vebeennursingforthirtyminutes.

Danny’snosingaroundthebrothers’socialmediapagesrevealedthatTodd,J.D.,and

JeremyareonthenextflightfromL.A.,landingintwohours.Idon’thavetoworryabout
beingnoticedbymyothertargets,buttherearefifteenbrothersmillingaroundthe
baggageclaimandScottisatthecenteroftheswarm.Hisever-present,pretentious,“I’m
thenextgreatAmericanauthor”briefcaseisrightbesidehim,thewayIexpecteditwould
be,butunlessheseparatesfromthecrowd,Iwon’tbeabletogetcloseenoughtoswap
outourbagwithoutattractingattention.

SecondsaretickingbyandifIdon’tgetabreaksoon,Iwon’tbeabletoplantthedrugs

onScottattheairportwithitsabundantsupplyofpolicereadytorespondtoacallfroma
redsecurityphone.

Orworse,Imightstillbeperchedonthisstoolattheespressobarcounterwithakiloof

cokeinmybagthenexttimetheburly,sharp-eyedmanwiththedrugdogmakeshis
roundsthroughbaggageclaim.

Ispenthalfthedayyesterdayobservingtheman’spatternsandhedoesn’tpassthrough

thisareamorethanonceanhour.Butit’sbeennearlyfortyminutessinceIwatchedhim
leadthedoguptheescalatortowardthesecurityscreeningline.I’mrunningoutoftime
andthisplan,whichseemedsosimpleandelegantafewdaysago,isbeginningtolook
poorlythoughtoutandfartoodependentondumbluck.

DannyandIshouldgiveupandgetoutofherebeforeit’stoolate,butI’mpossessedby

thehorriblecertaintythatifIfailnow,Iwillcontinuetofail.AndIcan’tfail.Ican’t,orall
thehardworkandsacrificeofthepastyearwillhavebeenfornothing.

“Ishouldhavestuckwiththegun,”Iwhisperbehindmycoffeecup.

“Westillhavetime,”Dannywhispersback.“He’llgethissuitcaseandmovetotheback

ofthegroup.That’swhenyougo.”

Iswallow,forcingtheacidrisinginmythroatbackdownthewayitcame.“Youshould

headbacktothecar.IfI’mcaught,Idon’twantyouaround.”

“You’renotgoingtogetcaught,”Dannysaysfirmly,hisconfidenceclearlynotas

shakenasmine.“Look,he’sgothisbag.Getready.I’llbetyoudinnertonighthe’llstart
checkinghisphoneintwoseconds.You’llbeabletoswingbyandmaketheexchange
withouthimlookingupfromInstagram.”

Inod,heartracingasIsetmycoffeedownandgetreadytoslideoffmystool.

AsScottdragshisblackrollersuitcaseoffthecarousel,heturnstooneofhisfriendsand

laughshisdonkeylaugh,theonethatshowcaseshiswide,bluntteeth.IthoughtIhad
controlofmyanger,butseeingoneofthemenwhoattackedmeandliedaboutitgoing
abouthislifelikehehaseveryrighttohealthandhappinessmakesmewanttokillhim
withmybarehands.

Heatcreepsupmythroattoburnmycheeksandthebacksofmyeyesbegintopulseand

throb.

Theopenairbaggageclaimisshadedandacoolbreezestirstheair,butIfeellikeI’min

themiddleofoneofthosebroilingMiamidays,whenIwouldemergefrommyboxing
classintoonehundreddegreeweatherwithonehundredpercenthumidityfeelinglikea
tomatoinafryingpan,sooverheatedIwasabouttosplitmyskin.

Iliterallyseered,myvisionblurringasScottreachestheedgeofhisgroupandkeeps

walking,headedtowardthefarsideoftheroom.

I’msolostinmyangerittakesabeatforpanictopenetratemyrage.

“Where’shegoing?”Iask,voiceshaking.“Where’shegoing?”

“Thebathroom.I’mgoingafterhim.”Dannypullshisballcaploweroverhisfaceand

grabsthebriefcasebymyfeet.

Isnatchahandfulofhisteeshirtandholdtight.“No.Youcan’t.Itoldyou,Iwon’tlet

youputyourselfindanger.”

“I’mnotgoingtobeindanger,”Dannysays,speakinglowandfast.“I’mgoingtoget

thisdoneandwe’regoingtogetoutofhere.Gostandbythesecurityphone.IfItouchmy
hatonthewayoutofthebathroom,makethecall.I’llheadouttherightsideofthe

baggageclaim,givingtherestofthemawideberthandmeetyouatthecar.”

Ishakemyhead.“Danny,no,I—”

“There’snotimeforafight,Sam,”hesays,pressingakisstomycheekbeforehe

whispers,“Ifwe’regoingtopullthisoff,wehavetobepreparedtoimprovise.Seeyouin
afewminutes.”

BeforeIcanfindwordstostophim,he’spriedmyfingersfromhisshirtandisheaded

towardthebackofthebaggageclaimwiththebriefcase.He’snearlyhalfafoottallerthan
Scott,withmuchlongerlegs.BythetimeScottreachesthecurvedhallwayleadinginto
themen’sbathroom,Dannyisjustafewstepsbehind.

Whichisagoodthing,becausenosoonerhashedisappearedthanthepoliceofficerwith

theGermanshepherdappearsatthetopoftheelevator.

Instantly,mythroatclosesupwithpanic.

Ispintofacethebar,wonderingifthesmellofthecokeisstrongenoughtodrawthe

dogintothebathroom.Justincase,Ifumblemyphonefromtheburlappurseslungacross
mybodyandstaboutaquicktexttoDanny—

Dogback.Inbaggageclaim.Don’tcomeoutwithbag.

—andhitsend,onlytoberewardedwithahumfromthestoolbesideme.Iglancedown

toseeDanny’sphonerestingonthemetalseat.

Itmusthavefallenoutofhisboardshortsagain.

Shit.

Shit,shit,shit.

Doingmybesttoappearcalmandincontrol,IslideDanny’sphoneintomypursealong

withmine,leaveafewhundredcolonesbymycoffeecupfortheharriedwomanmanning
thecounteralone,andstartacrosstheroomtotheemergencyphone.

Ikeepmypaceslowandeven,ignoringthesweatbeadingonmyupperlipandthehair

risingonthebackofmyneck.Thereturnofthepolicemanandhisdogarebadnewsfor
callinginareport,too.Iplannedtomakeananonymoustipanddon’twanttobeseen,but
gettingcaughtwiththephoneinmyhandisfarbetterthanDannygettingcaughtwiththe
drugs.

Stomachcrampingandmypulseflutteringunhealthilyinmyears,Ileanagainstthe

concretewallafewyardsfromthephone,gazefixedontheexittothebathroom,willing
everythingtobeallright.

Thepolicemanandhisdogaretakingtheirsweettimecirclingeachofthecarouselsand

almostalltheSBEbrothershavetheirbags.ItfeelslikeittakeshoursforScotttoemerge,
dragginghissuitcasebehindhim.Ipushawayfromthewall,heartslammingagainstmy
ribsasItrytogetabetterlookattheotherbaghe’scarrying.

He’sonlyahundredfeetaway,maybeless,butthebriefcaseisinhisrighthandandI

can’tseeenoughofittobesurewhichoneitis—hisold,batteredcase,orthenewonewe
boughtandrougheduptomatchit.MyhandsclenchandunclenchatmysidesasScott

hurriestorejoinhisfriendsandthepolicemanandhisdogcompletetheircircuitof
carouselthreeandstarttowardthefinalcarousel,theirpathleadingthemdirectlypastthe
bathrooms.

IfDannycomesoutwiththedrugsrightnow,he’sgoingtobecaught.There’snoway

thedogisgoingtomissakiloofcocaineglidingbyrightbeneathitsnose.

Ipressmylipstogetherandholdmybreath,prayingforthefirsttimeinlongerthanI

canremember.Idon’tknowwhoorwhatI’mprayingto,onlythatIneedDannytobe
okay.Ican’tlethimgotojailbecauseofme.Knowinghe’slockedawayinacelland
sufferingbecausehelovedmetoomuchtoletmeflushmylifedownthetoiletalone
wouldmakethehellofthepastyearseemlikeawalkinthepark.

Inthatmoment,asIwaitforDannytoemergeandthedogliftsitsnose,itsmuscled

bodytensingasitscentsthebreezedriftingthroughtheairyarchwaysleadingtotheroad,
IrealizehowmuchIstilllovehim.

MymindclearsandthebarbedwirecoiledaroundmyheartfallsawayandI’mflooded

withlove.

Andregret.

HowcouldIhavelethimdothis?Ishouldhavewrappedmyarmsaroundhimand

refusedtoletgo.Ishouldhavetackledhimandwrenchedthebagoutofhishands.

Rightthen,IswearIwilldowhateverittakestokeephimsafe,ifonlyhestepsoutof

thebathroomholdingScott’sbaginsteadofhisown.

Amomentlater,Danny’sfamiliarformappearsintheopendoorwayandtimeslows.His

headistippeddown,hisfaceconcealedbythebrimofhisballcap,soIhavenoideawhat
he’sfeeling.Thebaginhishanddoesn’tlooklikethebagweboughtattheofficesupply
store,butit’shardtotellatthisdistance.Itcouldbethecasewiththecokeinit,andifit
is,Ineedtogetitinmyhandbeforethedogdiscoversthesourceofthesmellmakingits
largeearsstandstraightupandthehaironitsbackbristle.

Ipropelmyselfawayfromthewall,walkingasfastasIdaretowardDanny,planningto

wrenchthebriefcasefromhishandandaccusehimofstealingitifthat’stheonlywayto
makesureItakethefalloutforourfailedplan.ButbeforeI’mtenfeetfromtheemergency
phone,thedogletsoutadeep,terrifyingbarkandleapsforward.

ItlungesforDanny,towinghisbulkyhandlerbehindhim.

Ifreeze,eyesgoingwideandterroroverloadingmynervoussystem.Foramoment,I’m

afraidImightdosomethingspectacularlyineffectiveandgirlylikefaint,butthenthedog
keepsgoing.ItchargespastDanny—whoistuggingthebrimofhishatasheambles
towardtheoppositesideofthebaggageclaim,lookingeverybitthelaidbacksurfer
withoutacareintheworld—andaimsitspowerfulbodyatScott.

IwatchasthedogripsthebriefcasefromScott’shand,shakingitinitspowerfuljaws

untilthetopflapfliesopenandadarkgreen,plasticwrappedkiloofcocainecomes
tumblingout.

Thank.

God.

Orwhoeverislisteningtodarkprayerslikemine.

Bitingbackacryofrelief,Iturntotheright,movingawayfromthedramaunfoldingby

carouselfour.Outofthecornerofmyeye,IseethecopdrawhisgunandorderScottto
thefloor,firstinSpanish,theninlouder,moreauthoritativeEnglish.

“There’sbeenamistake,”Scottsays,palingasheliftshishandsintotheair.“Ididn’tdo

anythingwrong.Idon’tknowwhatthatis.It’snotmine!”

Thesecondpartofhisprotestistrueenough,butScotthasdonehisshareofwrong

things.

Ofwicked,heartbreaking,life-shatteringthings.

Ashe’sforcedtothegroundandhisarmspulledroughlybehindhisback,Idon’tfeelthe

slightestflashofconscience.Thisiswhatthespinelesswormdeserves.Thisisbetterthan
hedeserves.He’sgettingoffeasythoughheobviouslydoesn’tknowit.

Bythetimetheofficerhasthecuffslockedaroundhiswrists,Scottiscryingoutforhis

friendstohelphim,beggingsomeonetocomeexplainthatthere’sbeenahorriblemistake.
ButtherestoftheSigmaBetaEpsilonfratkeeptheirdistance,watchingtheirbrotherget
arrestedwithexpressionsrangingfromshocktoamusementtotheboredompeculiartothe
veryrichandpoorlybroughtup.

ScottisatthebottomoftheGreeksocialstructure,alegacywhosefatherdonatedtoo

muchmoneytoSterlingUniversity’sSBEhouseforhissontobedeniedmembership.
Scottistoleratedbyhisbrothers,allowedtofawnandflatterandtodothejobstheothers
don’thavetimefor.He’stheonewhoorganizedthecleaningforthehouseandmadesure
thekegswerepickedupintimefortheparties.He’stheonewhokeptrecordsonthe
pledgesandfilledoutpaperworkfortheGreekcouncil.He’sthetypeofguywhocan’tsay
no,whetherit’ssigningonforanotherthanklessjoborsteppingintotakehisturnrapinga
girlpinnedtoapooltablebecausehisfratpresidenttoldhimto.

He’spathetic,andifcircumstancesweredifferent,Imightfeelsorryforhim.Hewill

neverbemanenoughtobeanythingotherthanbottomdog,acowering,self-hatingomega
beggingforscrapsfrommonstershebelievesarehisbetters.

ButIrememberthewayhewhimperedasheshovedinsidethealreadywoundedplace

betweenmylegs,gruntinglikeapigashefoundreleasetothecheersofhisbrothers.I
rememberwatchinghimstumbleawaytocollapseontheflooragainstthewall,tucking
himselfbackintohispantswithshakinghands,lookinglikehewastheonewhohadjust
livedthroughsomethingunspeakable.He’dkepthisgazeonthefloorandhischintucked
tohischest,refusingtolookupormeettheeyesofthepersonhe’dviolated.

BecauseIremember,becauseIwillneverforget,nomatterhowmuchtimepassesor

howmuchdistanceIgetfromthatnight,IturnmybackonScottandwalkaway.

AndwitheverystepItaketowardtheparkinglot,Ifeelalittlefreer.

Iliftahand,holdingmystrawhatfirmlyontomyheadasIstepoutofthebaggageclaim

intothebreezyafternoon,onelessshadowfollowingmeintothesun.

CHAPTERNINE

Danny

“Ifyou’venevereatenwhilecrying,

youdon’tknowwhatlifetasteslike.”

-Goethe

Ittookaninsaneamountofself-controltokeepfrombustingintothestallwhereScott

wastakingadumpandbeatinghimbloody.

Iwantedtoseehispastyfaceslackwithfear.

ThenIwantedtolistentohimscreamasIshovedthekiloofcocaineuphisass.

IknewwhenIboardedtheplanetoCostaRicathatseeingthemenwhohurtSamwasn’t

goingtobeeasy,butIhadn’tcountedontheoverwhelminginstincttodestroy.Itwaslike
theneedtoinhaleaftertoolongunderwater,painfultoresistandsowrongfeelingthatthe
primitivepartofmymindhowledatbeingdenieditsrighttodeliverpain.

Scottdeservestohurt.Thehurtshouldflowfrommyfiststohisbody,untilhefeels,ina

visceralway,allthemiseryandtraumahe’sinflicted.

IwantedtoextractmyvengeancefromhisfleshsobadlyIhadtobitedownonthe

insideofmycheektokeepfromclimbingoverthestalldividerandgoingafterhim.
Instead,Iwalkedcalmlyintothestallnexttohis,setthebriefcasedownonthefloor
betweenhisstallandmine,andtookapiss.WhenIfinished,Iflushed,unlockedthedoor
behindme,andletitbangopen,hopingthesoundwoulddrawScott’sattentionawayfrom
thegroundasIreacheddownandgrabbedthehandleofthewrongbag.

Hisbag.

Iwasheadedtotheexit,butatthelastminutereverseddirection,walkingsoftlytothe

backofthelongbathroom,whereIlockedmyselfinthehandicappedstallandsteppedup
ontopoftheclosedtoiletseat.There,IdisposedofallScott’spersonaleffects—laptop,
spiralnotepad,pens,threedifferentkindsofgum,earbuds,andacrumpledboardingpass
—inthegarbageandwaitedtoseewhathewoulddonext.

Ifherealizedhehadthewrongbriefcase,Iwasguessinghewouldrushoutintothe

baggageclaimareatofindthemanwhohadtakenit.Hewouldn’timaginethatIwasstill
inthebathroom,afactI’dtakeadvantageoftoemergequietlybehindhimanddisappear
intheoppositedirectionwhilehewasn’tlooking.

Holdingmybreath,Ilistenedasthebastardfinishedshittingandrolledhissuitcaseout

ofthestall.Hestoppedtowashhishands,seeminglynotinanyhurrytoleavethe
bathroom.

Ithought,ifmyluckheld,hewouldn’trealizeaswitchhadbeenmadeuntilIwasinthe

parkinglotandhewasbeingarrestedbytheCostaRicanpolice.

Walkingoutofthebathroomandgettingafront-rowseatasthedrugdogsnatchedthe

bagfromScott’shandandthecopforcedhimtothegroundwasanunexpectedgift.

Ican’trememberthelasttimeIfeltthisfuckinggood.

Mygait,asIcrossthehotpavement,islooseandeasy,butinsideI’msoaring.Iwantto

liftmyfistsintotheairandletoutashoutoftriumph.Iwanttorunlapsaroundthe
parkinglotuntilIpurgemyselfofalltheexcessenergypumpingthroughmyblood.Most
ofall,IwanttosnatchSamupinmyarmsandswingherincirclesuntilshelaughsand
begstobeputdown.Ican’twaittosharethisvictorywiththeonlypersonintheworld
whocanunderstandhowmuchIneededit.

Whenshejoinsmeatthecar,poppingthetrunksoIcantossthebriefcaseinside,Ican

barelykeepmyhandstomyself.

ButIknowweneedtogetoutofhere.Pausingtocelebratetoosoonwouldbeamistake.

“Didyousee?”sheasks,herexcitementclearinhervoiceaswegetinandbuckleup.“I

didn’tevenhavetocallitin,sotherewon’tbeanythingtomakeitlooklikeitwasa
setup.”

“Isaw.Itwasbeautiful.”Iglancebackovermyshoulderattheterminal.“Ijustwishwe

couldhavestayedandheardhimscreamsomemore.”

“Metoo.”Sam’sbreathrushesout,butshedoesn’tspeakagainuntilshe’spaidforour

onehourofparkingandpulledoutontotheroad.“Butthatwaswaytooclose.Isawthe
dogcomingandtriedtotextyou,butyourphonehadfallenoutofyourpocket.Ialmost
lostit.Ithoughtyouweregoingtojailanditwasgoingtobeallmyfault.”

“Itwouldn’thavebeenyourfault,”Isay,notbotheredbytheclosecallforsomereason.

Iknowthereisnogreatandpowerfulforcewatchingoutformeandmine,butrightnowit
feelslikefateordestinyorsomethingbiggerthanmyselfisonmyside.Ourside.“It
wouldhavebeenmyfaultforwearingshortswithoutVelcropockets.”

Samtossesherhatintothebackseat,shakingherhairloose.

ThisisthefirsttimeI’veseenitdown.Despitethenewcolor,shelooksmorelikethe

oldSam,makingitevenhardertoresisttheurgetotouchher.

“Seriously,Danny,”shesays,herworriedgazedividedbetweentheroadandme.“We

agreedthatIwouldbetheonlyoneinthelineoffireandthenyouwentandputyourself
indangeratthefirstopportunity.That’snotokay.”

“Comeon,Sam,IdidwhatI—”

“Youhavetopromiseyouwon’tdoanythinglikethatagain,”shesays.“Ican’thaveyou

hurtorinjail.Iwouldn’tsurviveit.Infact,it’sprobablybetterifyouleaverightnow.”

“Pullover.”Ipointtotheroadaheadofus.

“Ican’t,weneedto—”

“Pullover,”Iinsist.“Downthatgravelroadrightthere.Ineedtoexplainsomethingand

Ican’tdoitwhileyou’redriving.”

Shehesitates,butfinally,withahuffofirritation,sheslowsandturnsright.Shekeeps

driving,rollingonformaybehalfamilebeforepullingovertothesideoftheroad
beneaththreeGuanacastetreesspreadingtheirmushroomheadsouttoshadethedusty
gravel.Sheglancesintherearviewmirroranddoesaquickscanofthewoodsononeside
oftheroadandthesugarcanefieldontheotherbeforerollingdownthewindowsand
cuttingtheengine.

“Whatisit?”She’sfrowningandhermouthistight,butIcanseesomethinginhereyes,

somethingIwasafraidImightneverseeagain.

It’smysoftSam,withherbigheart,whowoulddoanythingtoprotectthepeopleshe

loves.She’swoundedandlimping,ashadowofthepersonsheusedtobe,butsheisn’t
gone.She’sstillthereandI’mnotgivingupuntilImaketheworldsafeforheragain.

“Ipromisedtokeepmyhandscleansoyouwouldn’tfightmeaboutstickingaroundto

help,”Isay.“Butnowit’stimetocutthebullshit.”

Herfrowndeepens.“It’snotbullshit.Idon’twantyouindanger.”

“Itdoesn’tmatterwhichofusisindanger.What’sdonetoyouisdonetome.”Ileanin,

holdinghergaze,willinghertofeelthemiserythat’sbeenmyconstantcompanionsinceI
learnedwhathappenedtoherandthenlosther.“Can’tyouseethat?Yourpainismypain.
Ifyou’rebehindbars,I’llneverbefree.Ifyou’rehurting,Ican’tbehappy.I’mnotbuilt
thatway.”

Herbrowsmoothesandregretcreepsintoherexpression.“Iwastryingtospareyou.I

didn’twanttodragyoudownwithme.”

“Itdoesn’tmatterwhatyouwanted.You’reapartofme.Whereyougo,Igo.”Icupher

cheekinmyhand,brushingmythumboverherbeautifulmouth.

“Butneitherofusisgoingdownanymore,”Icontinueinaroughvoice.“We’reonour
waybackup.”

“Youthinkso?”Hereyesbegintoshine.“Doyouthinkthat…onceit’sover,Imightbe

okayagain?”

“Iwon’tstopuntilyou’reokay,”Ipromise,leaningcloser.“Betterthanokay.And

nothingintheworldcouldmakemeleaveyou,sodon’taskmeagain.”

Sheswallows.“Ihaven’tcriedsincethetrial.”

“Cryifyouneedto.Idon’tmind.”

“Idon’twantto,”shesays,hergazedroppingtomylips.“Iwanttokissyou,but…”

“Butwhat?”Iholdmybreath.

“I’mafraid,”shewhispers.“Idon’tknowifI’lleverbegoodforyouagain.”

“Aslongasyou’rewithme,I’mgood,”Isay,mythroattight.“Oratleastbetter.”

Ishakemyhead,notwantingtothinkaboutwhatawreckI’vebeen.“I’vebeenso

messedup,Sam.Nothingfeelsrealwithoutbeingabletoshareitwithyou.You’reapart
ofme,andI’drathercryeverydaywithyouthantrytolearnhowtolaughwithoutyou.”

Hereyessqueezeclosed.“Ihatethat.IhatethatIstoleyourhappinessaway.I’mso

sorry.”

“Youdidn’tstealanything.”Icaptureherchin,pressingmyfingersintotheboneuntil

shelooksatme.“Theystolefrombothofusandnowwe’regoingtotakeeverythingback.
Ourhappiness,ourfuture,everything.”

Doubtflickersinhereyes,butherhandscometorestonmychest,sendingheatand

hoperushingacrossmyskin.“Ican’tmakeyouanypromises.Ican’teventhinkaboutthe
futureuntilthisisover.”

“Thendon’tthink,”Isay,mylipsmovingclosertohers.“Feel.”

Mymouthsettlesoverhersandherlipspartwithasighsosweetandsaditthreatensto

breakmyheart.

Theworldstandsstillandthen,slowly,theclockreverses.

Timerewinds,strippingawaythemonthswe’vespentapart,takingusbacktobeforethe

trial,beforeourfailedescape,beforeSamreturnedtoschoolforthatlastterriblesemester.

WegobacktoourperfectChristmasandthefierce,perfect,wildlovethatlivedbetween

us.Tothosedayswhenforeverwaspracticallyinourhandsandallofourdreamswerea
whisperawayfromcomingtrue.Hertongueseeksminewithahungerthatechoesthrough
mybonesandhertastefloodsthroughmymouth,bringingbackmemoriesofeverykiss,
everytouch,everytimeImadelovetothiswomanwhoownsme,bodyandsoul.Her
armstwinearoundmyneckandherbreathcomesfasteras,onebyone,allthebarriers
betweenuscomecrashingdown.

Icircleherwaistwithonearmanddrivemyfreehandintoherhair,needingtobecloser,

todisappearintoherandneverbefound.

Ineverwanttostopkissingher.

Ineverwanttobewithoutheragain,thispersonwhoisasmuchmyfamilyasanyone

boundtomebyblood.

Hell,she’smoreprecioustomethanhalfthepeoplewhosharemyDNA.BecauseI

chosetoloveher,becauseshewonmydevotionwitheveryactofheartandbravery,from
thedayshetookapunchformewhenwewerekids,tothedaysheleftmeinahoteltofly
backtofaceherdemonsalone,determinedtosparemethehorrorofbeinginthat
courtroomwithher.

“Iloveyou,”shewhispersagainstmymouth,makingmyheartcryoutwithreliefso

profoundit’spainful.“Somuch.”

Tearsfillmyeyesandmyarmswraptighteraroundher,pullingheroverthegearshift

andintomylap.

“IwishI’dbeenthere,”Isayasshecurlsintome,herfacetuckedintothecurveofmy

neck.“IwishI’dbeeninthecourtroom.Icouldhavetestified.Icouldhaveconvinced
themyouweren’tthepersontheyweremakingyououttobe.”

“Idoubtit,”Samsays,pressingakisstomythroat.“AndI’mgladyouweren’tthere.I

didn’twantyoutoseemelikethat.IfI’dknownyouwerelistening,itwouldhavemadeit
somuchworse.”

“Iknoweverything.Icouldn’tstopreadingaboutit.”Iswallowagainstthelumprising

inmythroat.“IwishI’dbeenabletoprotectyou.Oratleastbeenthereforyou.After.”

“Ididn’tletyoubethere.”Shepullsback,lookingatme,herexpressionvulnerable.

“ButI’mgladyou’reherenow.Canyoueverforgiveme?”

“Ialreadytoldyou,there’snothingtoforgive.”

“No,thereis,”sheinsists,eyesshining.“Iwassonumb.Toeverything.IknewImissed

you,butIdidn’trealizehowmuch.IfIhad,Iwouldhaveknownhowbadlyyouwere
missingme,too.”

“Missingisagentlewordforit.”Ismoothhercurlsawayfromherface.“Lostisabetter

one.”

“Lost,”sheechoes.“Yes.”

“ButnowI’vefoundyouandeverythingisgoingtobeokay,”Isay,cuppinghercheek

inmyhand.“Ipromise.”

Oureyesmeetandslowly,bitbybit,Iseeherresistancefade.Iseethemomentshe

beginstohopeanditmakesmefeellikesomeonesetbutterflieslooseinmychest.Itisn’t
belief,butit’sastart,anditfeelsliketheworldisfinallyonitswaytobeingrightagain.

There’sonlyonethingthatcouldmakethismomentbetter.

“CanItakeyousurfingnow?”

Shelaughs,arealSamlaugh,oneofthesoundsI’vemissedthemostinthepastyear.

“What?”Iaskwhenshe’sstillgigglingaminutelater.“WhatdidIsay?”

“Nothing,”shesays,smilestillinplace.“Iwasjustthinkingitwouldbenicetocatcha

fewwaves.Unwindalittleafterallthecrazybackthere.”

“Greatmindsthinkalike.”Irunmyhandupanddownherthigh,lovingthewaythethin

fabricmakesitfeellikeI’mtouchingherbareskin.Idon’thaveanyintentionsofrushing
things—I’llwaitaslongasittakesforhertofeelreadyformorethanakiss—butit’sso
goodtobeabletotouchherwithouthershyingaway.“Ithinkwedeservetheafternoon
offtocelebrate.Onedown,threetogo.”

Worrycreepsbackintoherexpression.“Doyoureallythinkwe’llbeabletopulltherest

ofitoffwithoutgettingcaught?”

“Ido,butIliketoseeyouworryingaboutgettingcaught.”

Shearchesabrow,“Andwhy’sthat?”

“Becauseitmeansyou’rerealizingyou’vegotalotofthingstolookforwardto,”Isay,

squeezingherleg,notmissingthewaysheshiversinresponse.“Let’sgetoutofhere.I’ve
gotastaffmeetingtonight,butwe’vegotplentyoftimetohitthebreakandgetback
beforedinner.”

“Allright,”shesays,slidingbackintothedriver’sseat.Shestartsthecarandshiftsinto

drive,butbeforeshepullsout,shereachesoutandthreadsherfingersthroughmine.
“Thankyou.”

“You’rewelcome.”

Weholdhandsallthewaybacktothecabinandthatsimplethingisenoughtomakeme

feellikealuckyman.

CHAPTERTEN

Sam

“Enjoywhenyoucan,

andendurewhenyoumust.”

-Goethe

Wereachthebeachjustaftertwoo’clockwhenthemorningsunworshippersare

packinguptoheadintotownandtheafternoonsurfersaregearinguptohitthebigger
wavesasthetidecomesin.

Thebeachisbreathtaking—whitesandmorepowderythanwhatI’musedto,gently

swayingpalmtrees,andagrassyareawherelocalsaregrillingandlittlekidsarerunning
aroundwithkitesthewindthreatenstosnapintwo.Thebreakisaboutahundredyards
fromtheshore,andtheoceanfloorbetweenthebeachandthebestsurfingissplotchywith
coralhiddenbeneaththewaves.

Toourright,theshelteredcoveendsinacliffthatsoarsstraightupfromthesand.Toour

left,aseriesofdark,jaggedrocksjutupfromtheoceanlikearottensetofteeth.They
makeitlookliketheshorelineisgrinningatthesurfers,daringthemtoglidealittlecloser
andgetchompedtobits.

Dannyrentsasecondboardfromaguywithdreadshangingoutintheshadenearthe

parkinglot,andweheaddowntotheoceantopaddleout.

Thewarmwater,brightsun,saltybreeze,andtheflashofDanny’sstrongarmspaddling

inmyperipheralvision,combinetogivemeakillercaseofdéjàvu.Foramoment,Ifeel
likethepersonIusedtobe.Likethegirlwhocouldn’twaittospendtheweekend
bummingaroundthebeachwithherboyfriend,eatingtoomuchcalamariattheFish
Housefordinner,andwalkinghomewithhishandinhersandthesmellofsun-warmed
skinandherfavoritepersonswirlingallaroundher,makingherfeellikeanyplaceshe
wentwithhimwouldbehome.

Butthemomentfades,thewaymomentslikethatalwaysdo.

NomatterhowgooditfeelstobewithDannyorhowmuchI’dliketogobacktohow

weusedtobe,I’mstillthenewme,awomanwhowillneverfindpeaceuntilIfinishwhat
I’vestarted.

Allthewayouttothebreak,Ican’tseemtopullmyeyesawayfromthejaggedrocks.

Aninexperiencedsurfercouldgetintoalotoftroubleatabreaklikethis.Itwouldbeso
easytogetpulledrightinsteadofleftandendupsurfingyourwayintoafewbroken

bones,aconcussion,orworse.

IimaginewhatitwouldbeliketowatchJ.D.andJeremywipeoutonthatevil,grinning

reefthoughIknowthatisn’ttheanswertothequestionofwhattodowiththem.I’mnot
soldonDanny’sidea—thoughIhatetowastethedaywespentdiggingthatdamnedpit—
butasurfingaccidentisn’tagoodalternative.

Weneedsomethingsimple.Simple,butnearlydeadly,thatwillmakesuretheynever

touchawomanwithoutconsentagain.Idon’tcareifScottknowswhyhe’sbeing
punished—he’stoodumbtolearnfromhismistakes,anyway—buttherestofthemneed
toknowwhythey’resuffering.

DannyandIreachthelineupandstraddleourboards,bobbingupanddownonthe

wavesaswewaitourturntopaddleintothebreak.Itwistmyhairbackintoadamp
ponytail,pullingmygazeawayfromtherockstofindDannywatchingme.

Theexpressiononhisfacemakesmefeelhotalloverandthesunbeatingdownonthe

glitteringwaterhaslittletodowithit.Theloveandlonginginhiseyesmakemychest
achewithregretforwhatIputhimthrough,butitalsomakesmyskintingle.I’msuddenly
awareofthewindcaressingmydampskin,thetasteofsaltandDanny’skisslingeringon
mylips,andthefactthatIfilloutmyswimsuitinadifferentwaythanbefore.

I’vealwaysbeeningoodshape,butnowmybodyisamonumenttowillpowerand

revenge.I’veonlygoneuponeclothingsize,butI’vegainedalmostfortypoundsofpure
muscleandthereisverylittlesoftnessleftonmyframe.Iknowsomemenwouldfindmy
broadershouldersandtightlymuscledarmsandlegsunattractive,butIcantellDanny
appreciatestheview.

He’slookingatmelikehe’dliketostretchmeoutonthesandandkisseveryinchofmy

skinandforthefirsttimesincelastsummer,IthinkImightlikethat.

Imightlikeitverymuch.

IcametoCostaRicatoexorcisethedemonsthathaddrivenmetorunawayfrom

everyoneIloved.IknewIwascapableofhurtingthemenwhohadhurtme,butInever
thoughtI’dfindmywaybacktoallthethingsI’dlost.IwascertainIwastoofargone,too
damagedtoeverbewholeagain.

ButmaybeI’mnot.

Andmaybeit’sokaytoletmyselfsoften,justalittle.

“Whatareyouthinking?”Dannycatchestheedgeofmyboard,drawingmecloser.

Iliftoneshoulderandletitfall.“Aboutyou.Aboutthis.”

Irestmyhandonhisthighandsqueeze,feelingthestrengthofhimbeneathhisdamp

boardshorts.“You’veputonsomemuscle.”

“Exercisehelpedcurbtheurgetopunchthings.”Hesmilesruefully.“Lastsummer,I

triedtoputmyfistthroughabrickwallandbrokemyhand.IfiguredthathadtostopifI
wasgoingtobeingoodenoughshapetotakecareofbusiness,soIstartedhittingthegym
instead.”

“Howisthebusiness?”Iask.“DidyoueveropenthelocationinMaui?”

“No,notyet.ButIwasn’ttalkingaboutthatkindofbusiness.”Hisgazedriftsovermy

shoulder.“Iwonderifanyoneofferssurfinglessonsouthere.Thatreeflooksdangerous.A
newbiecouldgetintroubleprettyquick.Especiallyiftheyhadapushinthewrong
direction.”

Iblink.“Wereyoureadingmymind?”

Heshiftshisattentionbacktomewithawinkthatmakesmystomachflip.“Maybe.A

little.Itcouldwork.”

Ishakemyhead.“No,itcouldn’t.You’dhavetomakecontactwiththem.That’sthe

samereasonI’monthefenceaboutyoutakingthemtothepit.Eveniftheydon’thave
enoughevidencetopresscriminalcharges,theirfamiliesarerich.Iftheycandescribe
whatyoulooklike,theycouldhiresomeonetohuntyoudown.”

Ibracemyhandsonmyboardandshiftmylegsunderthewaterasalargerwaveliftsus

upandsetsusbackdown.“Besides,therearetoomanyvariableswithasurfingaccident,
toomuchleftuptochance.”

“Novariableswithabigassholeinthejunglefilledwithvipers,”hesays,inamatterof

factvoicethatmakesmelaugh,nomatterhowtwistedthisconversationis.

“What?”Hiseyescrinkleattheedges,makingmewanttokisseachtinysmileline,just

toshowhowgratefulIamthatthey’restillthere.“I’mserious.Itdoesn’tmatteriftheysee
myface.We’vealreadygotthehole.Itwouldbeashametowasteit.Andthere’sa
creeperwhosellssnakeslivingjustdowntheroadfromthecompound.”

Hedipsahandinthewater,usinghisdampfingerstosmooththehairawayfromhis

face.“IsayItrickJ.D.andJeremyintoafreecanopytour,droptheminthepitwiththe
snakes,andtellthemthey’retheretopayfortheterriblethingstheydid.Thenwegive
themanhourortwotofreakoutthatthey’regoingtodieofsnakebitebeforewecallthe
paramedics.”

Imullitoveragain,handsreturningtomyboardasanotherlargewavesurgesby.“Are

yousurethereisn’tawaytodoitwithoutyoumakingdirectcontact?”

“Idon’tknow.Maybewecanfiguresomethingout.Ifweputourheadstogether,”he

says,attentiondriftingtomymouth.“Andourlips.Icouldkissyouforanotherhouror
twotonightifthat’ssomethingyou’dbeinterestedin.”

ItrapmytinglingbottomlipbetweenmyteethasInod.

“Andhowaboutsleepinginthebedwithmetonight?”headds,hurryingtoclarify,“Just

sleep,that’sall.I’vejustmissedwakingupwithamouthfulofcurlsinthemorning.”

Ican’thelpbutfeelsadthatDannythinkshehastobesocarefulwithme.

ThiswaswhatIwasafraidoflastsummer,thatourlovewouldneverbethesameonce

heknewwhathadhappened.Thatthemenwhohurtmewouldalwaysbeinbedwithus,
makinghimtreatmelikeI’mmadeofglass.

Butafteramoment,Ipushtheanxiousthoughtsaway.We’llcrossthatbridgewhenwe

cometoit.Fornow,Iwanttoenjoytheafternoonandlookforwardtoanightinhisarms.

“Soundsgood,”Isay,feelingalittleshyasIadd,“I’vemissedwakingyouuptotellyou

tostopsnoring.”

“I’vemissedthat,too.I’vebeensleepingwaytoosoundlywithoutsomeonearoundto

jabmewithherbonyfingerandgrowlatmetoshutup.”

“Idon’tgrowl,”Iprotest.“Iasknicely.”

“Yougrowl.ButIlikeit,”hesays,grinningasheliesdownonhisbellyandturns

himselfaroundtofacethebeachinadvanceofthesetrollingin.“Ilikeyourferalside.”

“I’mgoingtoshowyoumyferalside.”Ireachouttosmackhisass,buthe’salready

pullinghard,buildingupspeedtocatchthenextwave.

HedriftsoutofreachwithalaughsoinfectiousIcan’thelplaughingwithhim.Igetinto

positionandridethenextwavein,coastingpastDannyjustashefallssidewaysintothe
surf,knowingbetterthantojumpofffeetfirstwithurchin-studdedcoralunderthewater.

Aftermorethanayearwithoutasurfboardbeneathmyfeetoraflightacrossthewater,

myfirstrideisdelicious.Fastandfreeandlight-up-my-bonesperfect.Idon’teverwantit
toend.AsIstarttoslow,Iinchtowardthetopoftheboardandleanforward,hangingon
foranotherhundredfeet.

BythetimeIleanbackandsitdown,I’mcloseenoughtoseethefacesofthepeopleon

thebeach,closeenoughtoseethejeepfullofpolo-shirtedcollegeboyspullingintothe
parkinglot,parkingtwospacesdownfrommyownrentalcar.

EvenbeforeIcatchaglimpseofhisprofileasheslamsoutofthedriver’ssideofthe

jeep,IknowthemanintheblueshirtisTodd.

There’ssomethingaboutthewayheholdshimself,likeheknowsnothingintheworld

cantouchhim,thatisdifferentthantheaveragefratjerk.Inhismind,Toddisagod,above
thelaw,abovetherestofus,anddeservingoftherighttodowhateverhepleasesandget
whateverhewants.

HisisthefaceIseeonthedevilsinmydreams.

HisisthevoiceIhearinthedarkness,promisingtocomeformeagain,swearingthatI’ll

neverbesane,neverbesafe.

Thesweetfreedomfromamomentbeforecurdlesinsideofme,fillingmymouthwith

thesourtasteofterrorasIturnmyboardaroundandpaddleawayfromtheshore.Ican’t
letToddseeme.Ican’tlethimknowI’mhere.J.D.andJeremyarestupidenoughto
believeincrazycoincidences,butToddisapredator.He’lltakeonelookintomyeyes,see
thehateglowingthere,andknowI’mhereforonereason.

Andthenhe’lldowhateverittakestokeephimselfsafeandI’llneverfinishwhatI’ve

started.

“He’shere,”Isay,breathcominginharshgaspsasIdrawupbesideDanny.“He’shere.

Onthebeach.”

Danny’ssmilefades.“Who?Todd?”

Inod,asfranticasifI’dspottedasharkinthewaternearmyboard.“Whatarewegoing

todo?There’snowaybacktothecarwithoutgoingbythebeach.He’llseemyfaceand
he’llknow.He’llknowDanny,he’ll—”

“It’sgoingtobeallright.”Dannysqueezesmyhand,holdingtightasawavewashes

overthetopofourboards.“We’llpaddlearoundthecliff.Maybetherewillbeasmaller
beachontheotherside.Ifnot,atleastwe’llbeoutofsightwhilewehangoutandwaitfor
themtoleave.Theywon’tstaylong.There’snobeerforsalehereandfratboyson
vacationaregoingtoneedabeerintheirhandbeforefiveo’clock.”

“Okay,”Isay,pulseslowingabitinresponsetothecalm,logicaltoneinhisvoice.“I’ll

followyou.”

“We’llgotogether,”hesays.“I’llstaybetweenyouandthebeachjustincase.They’re

notgoingtoseeyouandthey’renotgoingtohurtyou,Sam.Ipromise.I’mnevergoingto
letanyonehurtyouagain.”

“Let’sgo,”Isay,paddlingtowardthecliff,knowingnowisn’tthetimetohavean

argumentwithmyknightinshiningarmor.

IloveDannyforwantingtostandbetweenmeanddangerandhavealwaysadmiredhis

braveheart.Buthedoesn’tunderstandhowdangerousToddcanbe.Hedidn’tsitinthe
courtroomandwatchthemonsterliewithsuchconvictionthatthejurybelievedhis
outrageousfalsehoodsovermysimpletruth.Hedidn’tseethelookonTodd’sfaceashe
watchedhisfriendstaketurnswithme.Toddwastheonlyonewhowasn’tafraidtolook
meintheeye,whowascapableofstaringstraightintomytear-streakedfaceandsmiling.

Hecravedmypain.Itwasmysufferingthatgothimoff,notmybody.

Toddisamenace,anevilthingsetlooseontheearth,andthebiggestthreattomyfuture.

OnlywhenToddisdead,whenIknowI’llneverhavetoseehisfaceandneverhaveto
fearhistouch,willIbeabletotrulymoveon.

CHAPTERELEVEN

Danny

“Weareshapedandfashionedbywhatwelove.”

-Goethe

SamandIspendatensehalfhourfloatingintheincreasinglydramaticwavesrolling

intotheshorebeforeIpaddlebackaroundtheclifftofindthattheredjeepSamsawhas
beenreplacedbyabeatupbluepickuptruck.BythetimeIpaddlebacktogetSam,we
carryourboardsin,rinseoff,getherboardreturnedandminestrappedtothetopofthe
rentalcar,thereisbarelytimetogetbacktothecompoundbeforemymeetingwiththe
staff.

IhateleavingSamaloneinthecabin,evenforanhour,butIhavetodothejobIcame

heretodo.IfIdon’t,we’llloseoursafehavenfromthehotelmaids.AndIstillbelievethe
overnighttrainingsessioncouldbeimportantforestablishinganalibi.

IknowSamandIwillbothbecareful,butwhenitcomestoamurdercharge,anairtight

alibicanmeanthedifferencebetweenlifeanddeath.

Death.

TheentiretimeI’mtalkingropesandharnessesanddemonstratingthebackupsecurity

proceduresforlashingasleepingledgetoaclifffacetotheotherguides,I’mthinking
aboutToddWinslow.ThelagwhileIwaitforwhatI’vesaidtobetranslatedintoSpanish,
forthestaffmemberswhodon’tspeakEnglish,givesmeplentyoftimetorememberthe
terroronSam’sfacewhensherealizedhewasonthebeach.

He’stheringleader,theonewhosetthisnightmareinmotion.Withouthim,theother

threemighthavewantedtotaketurnswithagirl,buttheywouldn’thavedaredtodoit.

Toddisasociopath.Maybeevenapsychopath.Attwenty-one,heledthegangrapeof

aninnocentwomanandwalkedawayfromthetrialwithoutasmearonhisreputation.
Whoknowswhathe’llbedoingbythetimehe’sthirty.Iknowhewon’tgetbetterwith
ageandthatSamwillneverfullyrecoveraslongasthatevilshitiswalkingtheearth.

HehastodieandI’llhavetobetheonetokillhim.

IknowSam’sphysicallystrongerthanshewasandinsanelygoodwithagun,butshe

shookforagoodtenminutesafterwe’dpaddledoutofsightofthebeachtoday.Sheisn’t
asreadyforthisasshethinkssheis.

Butwhyshouldshebe,afterwhattheydidtoher?

IthinkaboutiteverytimeIseeaguyinafuckingpoloshirtwithGreeklettersonhis

ballcap.Ithinkaboutabunchofsmug,entitledassholesganginguponmygirl,holding
herdownwhiletheyuseherforanight’sentertainment,notgivingashitaboutthelife
they’reruiningorthegoodpersonthey’retearingapart.

Fraternitiesshouldbeburnedtotheground.Theybringouttheworstinpeoplewho

aren’tthatenlightenedtobeginwith.Anyprickwhoneedstospendashitloadofmoneyto
buy“brothers”isonlyhalfaman,andpeoplewhoaren’twholetoooftenfillthevoid
insideofthemwithdangerousthings.

DuringtheyearSamandIspentapart,Ialmostpickedupabottleatleastadozentimes.

Onthoselongnights,whenIlayinbedfeelingsolonelyandsadIwasn’tsureIwanted

tobealiveanymore,theoblivionIknewI’dfindatthebottomofafifthofJacksounded
prettydamnedgood.

ButthenIwouldthinkaboutthatlastnightwithSaminNewZealandandallthecruel

thingsIsaidtoherafterIdrankthosebottlesofwineandIwouldgoforarunoraswim,
instead.AndwhileIranorpulledhardthroughthewaterIwouldthinkaboutluringSam’s
attackersintothemiddleofnowhereandtorturingthemtowithinaninchoftheirlives.

ThatishowIfilledtheholeinsideofmeandIwillusethathatrednow,toendTodd

beforehecanhurtanyoneelse.

“Doyouthinkso,Danny?Thatharnessedisthebestway?”

IturntoseePaola,thetrilingualItaliangirlservingasmytranslator,lookingupatme

withanexpectantexpression.KnowingI’vebeencaughtzoningout,Igrinandrunalazy
handthroughmyhair.

“I’msorry,P.”Iplayupthedumbsurferbit,wantingtomakesuretheothertourguides

remembermeasalaidbackguywaytoochilltohavekilledsomeone.“Iwasalready
halfwayupthemountaininmymindandmissedthequestion.Whatwasitagain?”

Paolarepeatsthequestion,wechatwiththeotherguidesforafewminutesaboutthe

importanceofkeepingallcampersintheirharnessesandsecuredtotherockface,even
whenit’stimetoheadintothetentsforthenight,andthenwebreakforicedcoffeeand
GalletasMariacookies.Ispendanotherthirtyminuteshangingout,shootingtheshitwith
theotherguides,pretendingtobepsychedaboutourfirsttrainingexpeditiontomorrow.

Onlywhenmostoftheothershaveretreatedtotheircabins,doIgrabextracookiesfor

Samandheadbackacrossthecompound.

Thesunhasset,butpaleorangelightstilllingersintheair,illuminatingthedustmotes

driftingbyonthebreeze,givingthethreemonkeyshangingoutinthetreenexttoour
cabinaglowing,fuzzyhaloaroundtheirlittleheads.Ipausetowatchthem,amazedall
overagainathowstrangeandexoticthispartoftheworldfeelstoapersonwhohasnever
spenttimeinthiskindoftropicalrainforest.

I’vebeenalloverEuropeandspenteverysummersinceIwasakidonMauiwithSam,

butI’veneverbeensomewherethatfeelssowildandprimal.CostaRicaisbeautiful,but

it’salsoaplacewhereit’seasytogetintouchwithfearsanddesiresthathavebeen
lingeringbelowthesurface,ignoreduntilthey’resweatedoutinthejungleheat.

Itistheperfectplacetocommitamurder.

It’salsotheperfectplacetofallinloveagain.

Iheadupthestairstothecabin,wonderingifit’spossibleformeandSamtohaveone

withouttheother,ifwewillbeabletorecapturewhatwe’velostifwefailtofinishwhat
we’vestarted.

“Ibroughtcookies.”Iswingthroughthefrontdoor,forcinganupbeatnoteintomy

voice,pretendingIhaven’tbeendwellingonthebestwaytomurderamanforthepast
hourandahalf.

Butmyperformanceplaystoanemptyroom.

FearthatSamhaschangedhermindaboutbeingateamandlefttodosomethingcrazy

onherownmakesmystomachclench,butthenIseethenoteonthediningtable.

Iwentdowntherivertrailtothathotspringtheyweretalkingabout.Comejoinme

whenyou’rethrough.Ihavetowelsandbuglanterns.

Justbringyourself.

Swimsuitoptional;).

Asidefromwhenwewerekissinginthecarearlier,mycock’sbeenfairlywell-behaved

thepastfewdays.IknowSam’snotinagoodplaceandasmuchasIwanttobewithher
again,sexisprettymuchthelastthingonmymind.I’mmorepreoccupiedwithrevenge
andwonderingwhatit’sgoingtofeelliketobecomethelatestCooneytokillanother
humanbeing.

Now,mybodyrespondstothoselasttwowordsandwinkfacelikeIjustwatcheda

twenty-minutestripshow.

ButevenasmybloodrushesandmymindfillswithimagesofSamnakedinthewater,

herbreastsbobbingcloseenoughtothesurfaceformetoseehernipplespulledtight,
somethingcoldsnakesupmyspinefromtheoppositedirection,warningmenottogetmy
hopes—ormycock—up.Idon’tknowhowtobewithhernow.

We’vebeentogethersincetherapebutwehaven’thadsexsinceIknewaboutit,and

I’vespentagoodamountoftimesincelastsummerbeatingmyselfupfornotreadingthe
signsandknowingsomethingwaswrong.IwouldhavebeensomuchmorecarefulifI’d
known.Wecouldhavegoneslow,checkedinmore,madesureitwasthepolaroppositeof
whathappenedatthatNewYear’sEvepartyandstoppedthesecondshefeltscaredor
uncomfortable.

I’vewonderedthattoo—wasshescaredwhenweweretogetherbuthidingit,theway

shehidsomanyotherthings?

Sheseemedtoenjoymakinglove,butIdon’tknowforsure.Idon’tknowanythingfor

sureexceptthatIcan’tkeepherwaiting.Idon’tlikethethoughtofheroutinthejungle
alone,evenhereonthecompoundwherewe’resurroundedbyabunchofnaturenerds,
hippies,andhealthnutsmoreintosunsetyogathangrabbingafewbeersafterdinner.

Imeantmypromisetoday—I’mnevergoingtoletanyonehurtheragain.I’mgoingto

sticktoherlikeglueandbetherewheneversheneedsme.

Afterchangingbackintomymostlydryboardshorts,Ituckmycellphoneandcabin

keyinsidemypocket,grabapairofpajamapantsandateeshirtfromSam’sbag,incaseit
getscoolerandshedecidesshe’dratherwalkbacktothecabininsomethingmorethana
swimsuit,andheadout.

Istartdownthetrail,passingthemonkeysintheirtreeonmyway.

Thesethreearepartofalargercapuchingroupthatlivenearthewaterfallwherethe

adventuretoursbreakforlunch.They’vebecomesoaccustomedtothepeopleonthe
compoundthattheysometimesroamclosetotheboundaries,lookingforfood.Iwas
warnednottoopenmywindowstoowideorthey’dfindtheirwayin,cleanoutmymini-
fridge,andletthemselvesoutthroughthefrontdoor.Thisparticularspeciesissosmart
thattheyrubherbsontheirfurformedicineandusesimpleobjectsastoolsandweapons.
Paolasaidsheoncewatchedamothercapuchinbeatasnaketodeathwithasticktokeep
itawayfromherbaby.

Animalshavenomoralissueswithkillingthepredatorsamongthem.Ican’tsayI’d

enjoybeingamonkey—thesocialstructureofthewhite-headedcapuchinsoundspretty
messedupifyou’reanythingotherthananalphamale—butIenvythemtheirmoral
simplicity.

Andlackoflawenforcementworries.

Withthatthoughtinmind,Itugmyphonefrommypocket,doingaGooglesearchfor

AmericanarrestedinCostaRicaondrugchargeswhileIwalk.There’sonlyaoneline
mentiononalocalnewsstation’swebsite,butIknowthetwenty-two-year-oldarrestedby
NationalPolicetodayattheairportisScott.

Onedown.Theeasiestone,butstill,theballisinmotionandoncewecometoafirm

decisiononwhattodowithJ.D.andJeremy,thingsaregoingtomovefast.

Allthewaytothehotspring,mymindischurning,brainstorminganddiscardingvarious

waystogetTodd’sfollowersouttoourpitwithoutleadingthemtheremyself.ButthenI
reachtheturnofftothepoolandseeSam’sbikinitophangingfromalimb—thesignthat
thespringisinuseandanyonehikingbyshouldcomebacklater—andthoughtsof
anythingbutthewomanwaitingformevanish.

Iduckunderthelow-hangingleavesshieldingthepoolfromthetrailandtreadcarefully

throughthefernscoveringtheground.I’mwearingmytennisshoeswithoutsocksinstead
ofsandals,outofrespectforthesnakesthatmightbecomingouttoplaynowthatthelight
isfading,butabiteontheanklecouldstillsendmetothehospital.

Thoughatthispoint,I’dprobablytrytoputitoffforatleasthalfanhour.

Afterall,what’sapotentiallydeadlysnakebitecomparedtothepossibilityofseeingSam

withouthertopon?

CHAPTERTWELVE

Danny

“Thisisthetruemeasureoflove:

whenwebelievethatwealonecanlove,

thatnoonecouldeverhavelovedsobeforeus,

andthatnoonewilleverloveinthesamewayafterus.”

-Goethe

IholdmybreathasIroundthecurveinthetrailandtherivercomesintoview.

Thespringfedpoolistuckedintoarockformationabovetheriverbed,betweenabluff

pock-markedwithmysteriouslookingcavesandthefinelypebbledbank.Therunofffrom
thespringwarmsthewaterforseveralhundredfeetdownstream,increasingthegrowth
rateofriveralgaeuntilitlookslikeadarkgreen,underwatershagcarpet.

Ihavetowadethroughaparticularlyslimypatchtogettothespring,sloggingthrough

theshallowsinmywaterloggedtennisshoesbeforeIstarttheclimbuptherocks.I’m
halfwaytothetopwhenSam’scurlyheadpopsupandherblueeyespeerdownatmeover
theedgeofthedarkstones.

“Tookyoulongenough,”shesays,grinning.“IwasworriedI’dbepoachedbeforeyou

gothere.”

Hercheeksareflushedfromthehotwater,herfacedewywithsweat,andherblondcurls

havebecomeafuzzballthatfrizzesaroundherheadlikeacottonswabthat’sbeen
throughablender.ShelookswildandsostunningIstopandstare.Iwanttomemorize
everythingaboutthismoment,fromtheexactpinkofherlips,totheglitterinhereyes,to
thewayshe’slookingatmelikethereisnothingelsesheneedstobehappy.

Sheblinks,hersmilefadingasthesilencestretchesbetweenus.“Iseverythingokay?”

Inod.“Veryokay.Juststoppingtoadmiretheview.”

“Theviewofmywhitegirlafro?”Shefluffshercurls.“It’sevenworsenowthatI’m

blond.”

“It’sbeautiful.”Iclimbthelastfewfeetuptherocks,bringingmyfaceevenwithhers.

“You’rebeautiful.”

“Youtoo.”Sheleansin,pressingagentlekisstomylipsthatsendslongingsurging

throughmybody,makingmykneesweak.“Getin.Thewater’samazing.”

Shepushesawayfromtherocks,driftingbacktotheothersideofthepool,grantingme

myfirstglimpseofherbodybeneaththeclearwater.WhenIseetheone-piecepolkadot
suitshe’swearing,Idon’tknowwhethertobedisappointedorrelieved.

IfSamwerenakedbeneaththewater,Idon’tknowifI’dbeabletoresistreachingfor

herwithbothhands.

“Youcanputtheclothesandstuffonthetowels,”shesays,motioningtotheleftsideof

thepool,whereshe’sspreadoutthreetowels,sidebyside,flankedbywhirringbug
repellentlanterns.Withthecushionoffernsunderneathandthesoftglowofthelanterns,
themakeshiftbedwouldbetheperfectplacetopullSamoutofthewaterandmakelove
toherbeneaththedarkeningsky.

Ican’tlookatitwithoutimaginingSamnakedandreachingforme,soIkeepmyeyes

ontheriverasIundress.Ichuckoffmyshoes,tossmycabinkeyandphoneontothe
towels,andstripoffmyteeshirtbeforeslidingintothewaterwithahiss.

It’shotterthanIwasexpecting,buttheheatfeelsgoodonmyshoulders,whicharestill

achingfromallthepaddlingthisafternoon,anditonlytakesafewsecondstoadjusttothe
heat.WhenIdo,IlookuptofindSamwatchingmewithanamusedexpressiononher
face.

“What?”Iaskfrommysideofthepool.

“Youleftyourboardshortson,”shesays,lipspushingintoapout.

“Youhaveyourswimsuiton,”Ipointout,motioningtowardherbeneaththewater.“I

wasfollowingyourlead.”

“IonlyhavemysuitonbecauseIdidn’twanttobenakedifsomeoneotherthanyou

showedup.”Shestands,hershouldersandbreastsrisingoutofthewater,steamswirling
fromhersuitasthehot,dampfabricmakescontactwiththecoolereveningair.“AndI
don’twantyoutofollowmylead.”

Shereachesuptothetiebehindherneckandslipsthebowfree.Iwatch,mesmerizedas

sheletsthenewlyloosestrapsdangledownthefrontofherbodyandbringsherhandsto
thetopofthesuit,justabovetheswellofherbreasts.

“Iwantyoutotakethelead,”shesaysasshedrawsthefabricslowlydown,baringher

breasts.“Andtakeme.”

Mybreathrushesoutandmypulsepoundsinmythroat.

AllIwanttodoispullherintomyarmsanddevourherwhole.Iwanthertongueinmy

mouthandhertitsinmyhands.Iwanttopinchhernipplesbetweenmyfingers,rolling
themintohardpointsbeforeIreplacemyhandswithmytongue.Iwanttosuckherinto
mymouth,tomakelovetoherbreastsuntilherbodyissoslickIcanfeelherheatonmy
fingers,evenwiththewaterpressinginallaroundus.

Instead,IforcemyselftostaywhereIam,myclenchedfistsatmysides.“Areyou

sure?”

“I’msure.”Shepushesthesuitlower,baringmoreofherirresistibleskinandthetaut

musclesbeneath.“AndIdon’twantyoutobecarefulorworried.AllIwantyoutothink

aboutiswhatyouwant.”

“WhatIwant?”Irepeat,afrowntuggingattheskinbetweenmyeyes.

“Yes,whatyouwant.”Shebendsover,guidingthesuitdownherthighsandstepping

free.Shetossesthewadofsoddenfabricontotherocksandstandsinfrontofme,naked
andbeautifulandsotemptingIcanbarelybreathe.“Which,knowingyouthewayIdo,is
probablytomakemecomeasmanytimesasyoucanbeforeyoulosecontrolandfuckme
sohardI’llachealittlewhenIwakeuptomorrowmorning.”

Iflinchatthethoughtofbeingroughwithher.

Idon’twanttobelikethem,Idon’twanttodoanythingtoremindherofthenightmare

shebarelysurvived.

Idon’tsayawordaloud,butevidentlySamcanstillreadmymindaswellasIcanread

hers.

“Don’tbeafraid,”shesays,steppingcloser.“Ifyou’regentleanddifferentandworried

becauseofwhattheydid,thentheywin,Danny.Andwe’llneverbealoneagain.”

MyjawclenchesasIshakemyhead.“Idon’twanttohurtyou.Icouldn’tlivewith

myselfifI—”

“Youcouldneverhurtme.”Shereachesout,herfingertipsbrushingacrossmychest.

“Youneverhaveandyouneverwill.”

Herelegantarmstwinearoundmyneck,bringingherbreastsinchesfrommychest,

sendinghersummertimesmellrushingthroughmyhead.I’msohardIfeellikeI’mgoing
toexplode,butIkeepmyhandsbymysides.

“Iwantyou,”shewhispers,herbreathwarmingmylips.“Don’tyouwantme,too?”

“God,yes.”Icurlmyhandsintotighterfists,refusingtoletmyselfreachforheruntil

sheunderstandsexactlywhatshe’saskingfor.“ButifIlosecontrol,I’mnotsureI’llbe
abletogetitbackagain.Ihaven’tbeenwithanyoneinayear,Sam,andI’vebeenso
fuckinglonely.”

SweatbreaksoutonmylipasIfighttoswallowpastthewaveofemotionshovingup

mythroat.“Whatif,onceIstart,Ican’tstop?”

“Therewillbenoreasontostop.”Sheleansin,flatteningherbreastsagainstmychest.

“Please,Danny,makelovetome.”

Mycontrolsnapsanddesiretakesover.

Bythetimemymindcatchesupwithmybody,mytongueisstrokingintoSam’smouth,

hardanddeep,andI’vegotherassinmyhands,drawinghertightagainstmyaching
cock.Sherocksagainstme,makinghungrysoundsthatmakeitclearshe’sasdesperate
forthisasIam.

Weclingtoeachother,bodiesstrainingcloser,fightingtoescapetheboundariesofour

separateskins,tobecomeusagainafteralltheterribletimeanddistance.Icupherbreast,
rollinghernipplebetweenmyfingersandthumb,tremblingasshecriesoutagainstmy
mouthandbitesmylip.

Ibiteherback,draggingmyteethacrossherbottomlipandsuckinghardasIcontinueto

pluckathernipple,makinghermoan.

Asecondlater,she’sgotherhanddownthefrontofmyshortsandherfingerswrapped

aroundmycock,strokingmehard,makingmyvisionblurwithhowphenomenalitfeels
tohaveherhandsonmeagain.

ButIdon’twantherhands.

“Holdontome,”Igasp,headspinningasIwrapmyarmaroundherwaistandliftherout

ofthewater.I’moutofthepoolinthreesteps,layingSamonthetowelsandshovingmy
shortsdownmyhips,sodesperatetobeinsideherI’mshakingallover.

“Yes,”shepants,handstrailingdownmystomachasshereachesformycockagain.

“Insideme.Please,Danny,pleaseI—”

HerwordsendinacryasIlengthenmyselfoverherbodyanddrivebetweenherlegs

withonelongstroke.Isinkin,pushingthroughherslickheatuntilI’mburiedinsideof
her.Idon’tthinkaboutholdingbackandcouldn’thaveifI’dtried.

AfloodgatehasopenedandallthehungerI’veignoredforthepastyearisrushingout,

demandingrelease,demandingIgetcloser,deeper,thatIshowSamwitheverythrustof
myhipsthatsheismine.

ThatshebelongstomeandIbelongtoherandnothingisevercomingbetweenusagain.

“You’remine,”Iwhisper,trappingherchinbetweenmyfingersasIrideher,shovingin

andoutofherpussywithswift,hardstrokesthatendwithenoughforcetomakeher
breastsbounceeverytimeIdrivehome.“Youaremine.Mine.Forever.”

“Yes,”shegasps,fingernailsdiggingintomyassasshepullsmeintighter,harder.

“Yes.”

“Andyou’reneverleavingmeagain,”Isay,pacegrowingmorefranticevenastearsrise

inmyeyes.

IfeellikeI’mfallingapartandbeingputbacktogetheragainatthesametime.Myheart

isfallingoutofmychestandintoSam’shandsandallthehurtofthepastyearispouring
outofmewitheverythrustintoherheat.I’mfuckingherwithallofit,allofthehurtand
theloveandtheabandononlyshecanmakemefeel.

Onlyher.OnlymySam.

“I’vemissedyousomuch,”Igasp,tearsfallingontohercheeks.“Ineedyousomuch.

Pleasedon’tleavemeagain.Pleasedon’tleave.”

“Iwon’t.Ipromise.Iloveyou.”She’ssobbingtoo,clingingtomeandfeatheringkisses

overmycheeks,butwe’restillfuckinglikewe’regoingtokilleachother,likewe’re
goingtocometogethersohardandfastwebreakthroughtotheothersideoftwoand
becomeone.

Heatbuildslowinmybody,thesweet,painfulpressureswellinguntilI’moutofmy

mindwithit.UntilI’mgrowlingandgruntingandcurlingmyhandsunderSam’sbackand
aroundhershoulderssoIdon’tfuckherstraightoffthetowels.

Higherandhigherweclimb,gaspingandtearingandstrainingtowardoblivion,toward

anotherplanewherethereisnopastorfuture,thereisonlythismomentandpleasureand
mylovesoclose.

Sofuckingclose.

Asecondlater,Samcallsoutmyname,herpussysqueezingmesotightIhavenochoice

buttogooverwithher.Igritmyteethandshovemyhipsforward,asavagesoundtearing
frommythroatasIcome.ThebaseofmyspineisonfireandtheorgasmissointenseI
trembleandjerklikeit’sgoingtobethedeathofme,mycockpulsinginsideSamasshe
milksthesoulrightoutofmybody.

Idon’tknowhowmuchtimepasses,butwhenmybodyandsoulfinallycomeback

togetheragain,I’mlyingheavilyontopofherandshe’sstrokingherfingersupanddown
myback,hummingahuskysonglowinherthroat.

“Whatsongisthat?”Iask,myvoicesodeepIbarelyrecognizeit.

“Idon’tknow,”shesayswithasoftlaugh.“Ididn’trealizeIwashumming.”

Ipullback,bracingmyselfonmyforearms,gazingdownintoherface.She’snotcrying

anymore,butIcanseethedampstreakswherehertearsandminemingledonhercheeks.

“I’msorry,”Isay,tracingonesad,saltytrailwithmyfinger.“Ididn’tknowitwasgoing

tobelikethat.”

Herlipscurveononeside.“Hotashell?”

“No,Icouldhaveguessedthat.”Ismile,butitdoesn’tlastforlong.“Ijust…Ididn’t

meantopushyoutomakeanypromisesyou’renotreadytomake.”

“It’sokay,”shewhispers,tuckingmyhairbehindmyears.“Iamyours.I’msorryI

forgotthatforsolong.”

“AndI’myours,”Isay,throattight.“Forever.EvenifI’dnevercomehere,Sam,evenif

I’dneverseenyouagain.Iknowthat’snothowit’ssupposedtobe,IknowI’msupposed
tobeallrightonmyown…butI’mnot.”

Herlipstremble.“I’mnoteither.I’msosorryIhurtyou,babe.”

“Youcouldn’thelpit.Idon’tblameyou.IswearIdon’t.Ijustneedtoknowthatit’s

overnow.Thatwe’reusagain.”

“We’reusagain,”shesays,hereyessearchingmine.“Idon’tknowwhyIthoughtwe

couldbeanythingelse.I’meitherhalfofusorI’monlyhalfalive.”

Myshoulderssagwithrelieftoknowthatsheunderstandsandthatneitherofushasto

behalfaliveanymore.

Shesniffs.“IguessI’mnotassmartaspeoplethinkIam.”

“Youareverysmart,”Isay,kissinghercheek.“It’sbeenahellofayear.Cutyourself

someslack.AndIhopeyou’llcutmesome,too.I’msorrythatonlylastedfiveminutes.”

Hernextsniffbecomesalaugh.“Fiveminuteswasplentytogetwhereweweregoing.”

Shepauses,bitingherlipasherlegswraptighteraroundmyhips.“Butmaybewecould

tryitagain.Alittleslowerthistime.”

Mycockpulsesinsideofher,alltoohappytooblige,butaglancearoundtherapidly

darkeningjungleprovesit’spasttimetogetbacktocivilization.

Reluctantly,Ipullout,eventhoughallIwantistostayballsdeepinherfortherestof

mylife.“Let’stakethisbacktothecabin,wherewedon’thavetoworryaboutgetting
bittenintheassbyasnake.”

“Allright.”Samtakesmyhandandletsmepullhertoherfeet.

I’mabouttoreachformyshorts,whenshelungesforward,wrappingherarmsaround

meandhuggingtight.Ireturntheembrace,droppingmyheadtopressakisstothetopof
herhead,overwhelmedbyapotentmixtureoflove,gratitude,andfear.

ThisisallIwant.

She’sallIwantandIalreadyknowIwouldn’tsurvivelosingheragain.

“We’regoingtohavetobeverycareful,”Iwhisper.“Thiscomesfirst.Youandme.We

can’tletthemtakethatawayagain.”

Shenods.“We’llbecareful.We’llbequick.Andthenwe’llbegone.Together.”

Myeyesslideclosedandmyarmstightenaroundher,wishingIcoulddrawherintomy

bodyandkeephersafeinsideofme.WishingthatIneverhadtobeapartfromher,even
foramoment.

Afterwemakeourwaythroughthedarkenedtreestothecabin,wemakeloveagain,

slowandsweet.Ikisseveryinchofher,fromherfreckledshoulderstotheplacewhere
herpulsebeatsjustbeneathhernaveltotheslickfleshbetweenherlegs.Shetasteslike
homeandheavenandasshecomesonmymouth,hersecret,saltyheatfloodingacrossmy
tongue,Irealizethatthey’rethesame.

Andthey’rebothSam.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

Sam

“Everythingishardbeforeitiseasy.”

-Goethe

Ihadworriedthatlettinglovebackintomylifewoulddullmysharpedges,butnothing

couldbefurtherfromthetruth.

The next morning, I wake up in Danny’s arms, sore from making love until midnight,

with a fire burning in my belly, more determined than ever to get blood on my hands. I
lost a year of this perfect love and scarred the heart of the best person I’ve ever known
becauseofToddandhisfriends.It’spasttimeforthemtogetwhattheydeserve.

AndthenDannyandIwillfinallybefree.

Irollover,proppingmychinonhischest,watchingtheclearmorninglightcreepacross

hisface,settinghisblondstubbletoglowing.

Withhislonghairspreadoutacrossthepillowandhisfulllipspartedinsleep,heisas

beautiful as he ever was. But even at rest, he looks like a man who’s been through
something, who has walked through the shadows of the underworld, where the living
shouldneverhavetotread.I’mthereasonheknowswhatit’sliketohurtlikethat,andI’m
goingtobetheonetotakehishandandleadhimbackintothelight.

Onedaysoonwe’regoingtowalkawayfromthishorrorandthesoonerthatdaycomes,

thebetter.

Afewminutesbeforeseven,hiseyesopen.Helooksdisorientedforasecond,butthen

heseesmeandsmiles,reliefandwondermixingonhissleepyface.

“Solastnightwasn’tadream,”hesays,huggingmeclosertohiswarmbody.

“More like a wake-up call.” I kiss his scruffy cheek. “When’s your last day of work

again?”

Hehumsandhisbrowfurrows.“I’llbebackfromtheovernighttripTuesdaymorning,

butIdon’thavetocheckoutofthecabinuntilWednesday.”

I cross my hands on his chest and prop my chin on top. “So we do all three Tuesday

night and leave first thing Wednesday morning. I’ll go to the airport and buy the tickets
whileyou’rebusywiththetrainingexercisestoday.”

“Soundslikeaplan.”Hebrushesmyhairfrommyface.“I’llgiveyousomecashformy

ticket.”

“Doyoucarewherewego?”

Heshakeshishead.“Nope.I’vegotPeteandSeanrunningallthetoursinPorecuntilthe

endofthesummer.Wecangoanywhereyouwant.Surpriseme.”

My breath rushes out with a mixture of terror and anticipation. I can’t wait for the

morningweboardthatplane,evenifthereisstillhelltogothroughbeforewegetthere.“I
thoughtyou’dbesickofsurprisesbynow.”

“I’msickofbeingwithoutyou,”hesays,armtighteningaroundmywaist.“Idon’tmind

surprises.”

“ImeantwhatIsaidlastnight,”Iwhisper,hopinghecanhearthatImeaneveryword.

“I’mstickingwithyou.Andfromnowonthiscomesfirst.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He cups my bottom in his big hand, setting the aching flesh

betweenmylegstotingling.“Howareyoufeelingthismorning?”

“Sore.”Ismile,beforeaddinginaliltingvoice,“Butnottoosore.”

“Nottoosoreforwhat?”heasks,feigninginnocenceevenashisfingersslipbetweenmy

thighs, finding where I’m already slick. He bites his lip as he strokes gently in and out.
“ThailandorIndia.”

“What?”Imoanasheaddsasecondfinger,testingme,makingsureI’mreadyforhim.

“GetusaflighttoThailandorIndia,”hesays.“Nearthecoastalresorts.Hotelsarecheap

enough there that we’ll be able to shack up in a room by the beach for a month and do
nothingbutmakelove,eatcurry,andswimintheoceanallday.”

“Sounds like heaven,” I say, sighing as he removes his fingers and rolls on top of me,

spreadingmythighswithanudgeofhiskneethatmakesmydesirespikefastandhot.

“No,thisisheaven.”Heholdsmygazeashepositionshimselfandglidesslowlyinside,

histhicknessstretchingmyinnerwalls.

Thehintofsorenessmakesmeevenmoreawareofhowperfectlyhefillsme,howright

itistobejoinedwithhimlikethis,withnothingbetweenusbutloveandskin.Iwrapmy
armsandlegsaroundhimandgivehimeverything,allmylove,allmypain,andallmy
newlysprunghopeforthefuture.

Andwhenwe’relyingtogetherafter,listeningtothemonkeyschitterinthetreesoutside

andbirdcallsechothroughthejungle,IrealizeagainwhatafoolI’vebeen.

Loveisn’tmakingmesoft,it’stakingtheweaponforgedbyhateandrefiningitinthe

fire Danny and I make together, transforming it into something even sharper and more
deadly.

Hategavemesomethingworthdyingfor,butthisisworthlivingfor.

“Thank you,” I whisper against the damp skin of his neck, where he smells like sweat

andsexandDanny,apotentcombinationthatmakesmewanttokeephiminbedallday.

“No,thankyou.”Hesighs.“IwishIcouldstayherewithyouallday.”

Ilaugh.“Iwasjustthinkingthat.”

“Ofcourseyouwere.Itoldyou,greatminds.”Hekissesthetopofmyhead.“Don’tgo

anywhereexcepttotheairportandback,okay?Idon’twantyoutorunintoanyofthem
whenI’mnotaround.”

“Allright,”Isay.“Butweshoulddosomerecontoday.Whattimewillyoubeback?”

“Ishouldn’tbeanylaterthantwo,”hesays,slidinghisarmfrombeneathmyshoulders

andswinginghislegsovertheedgeofthebed.“Wecanheadovertotheresorttoscope
thingsoutthen.IthinkI’vefiguredouthowtohandletheJ.D.andJeremythingwithout
themseeingmyface,butIwanttorollitoverinmyheadalittlemore.”

Ishiftontomyside,proppingmyheadupononehand,appreciatingtheviewasDanny

getsdressed.“Wanttogivemeahintwhatyou’rethinking?”

Hegrins.“No.IwanttoseewhatyoucomeupwithwhileI’mgone.”

“It probably won’t be much,” I say, wrinkling my nose. “If I haven’t thought of

somethingbrilliantbynow,Idoubttodayisgoingtobeanydifferent.”

“Todayisalreadydifferent,”hesays,shrugginghisshirton.“Youstartedthedaywith

morningsex.Andmorningsexmakesyoutwentypercentsmarter.”

Myeyebrowslift.“Hasthatbeenverifiedbyscience?”

“It’sbeenverifiedbymycock,”hesays,proppinghishandsonthemattressandleaning

inforakiss.“That’sevenbetterthanscience.”

Ismileagainsthislips.“You’reright.Thatisbetterthanscience.”Irunmyhanddown

hischesttowherehisshortsridelowonhishipsandcurlmyfingersaroundthetopofhis
waistband.“Areyousureyouhavetogothisverysecond?”

Hishandslipsintomyhair.“IcouldpushitafewminutesifIskipbreakfast.Whatdid

youhaveinmind?”

“Ohnothing,Iwasjustthinking.”Itiltmychinup,blinkinginnocentlyasIadd,“Ifone

roundofmorningsexisgoodthentwooughttobeevenbetter.”

Hepushesmebackontothemattress.“Whoneedsbreakfast?”

“Breakfast is for losers,” I agree as our mouths meet and I reach for the close of his

shorts,alreadydesperatetohavehiminsideofmeagain.

There’snotimeforforeplay,butIdon’tneedany.

I’mstillwetfromourfirsttimeandbythetimeDannysinksintomeagain,freshheat

dampensmythighs,easinghisway.

“God, Sam,” he groans against my lips as he begins to thrust inside me. “I’m never

goingtogetenoughofyou.”

“Never,”Iagree,diggingmyfingersintothefirmmusclesofhisass,pullinghimcloser,

deeper.

Within a few moments, we’ve found our rhythm and are racing toward the edge,

knowingthereisn’ttimeforaslowbuild.Butstill,ashisthrustsgrowharder,faster,I’m

righttherewithhim,clingingtohisshouldersashetiltsmyhips,hittingthatsweetspot
deepinsidethatmakesmecrazy.Heramshomeagainandagain,hiscockswellinginside
ofmeuntilIknowhe’sabouttogoandIcan’tholdonasecondlonger.

Ibitemylip,tryingtomufflethesoundasIcome,butmycrystillechoesthroughthe

room, followed closely by Danny’s deep groan of release. His cock jerks inside of me,
hard enough to make me gasp and fresh waves of pleasure course from my belly out to
electrifyeveryinchofmyskin.

I’monfireandallIwanttodoisburn.

Burn and burn until there is nothing left among the ashes except the very core of my

being,thepartthathasalwaysbelongedtoDanielCooney.I’vebeenhissinceIwasjusta
kid,tooyoungtorealizethatwewerefallinginforeverlove,thekindthatrefusestobe
shutdownordestroyed,nomatterhowscaredyouget,orhowmuchyouwanttosparethe
oneyoulovefromyourownsuffering.

“Iloveyou,”hesays,catchinghisbreath.

“Iloveyou,too.”Myheartisracing,butnotfromfear.

I’mnotafraidanymoreandmythoughtsalreadyfeellesscloudy.

Infact,asIslipintomyrobeandgrababananaandagranolabarfrommybackpackfor

Danny,thehintofaplanisalreadybeginningtoform.

“You were right.” I kiss his cheek one last time as he reaches for the door. “Today is

goingtobedifferent.”

“Andallthedaysafter,”hepromiseswithacertaintythatmakesmebelievehim.

CHAPTERFOURTEEN

Danny

“Peoplewhothinkhonestlyanddeeply

haveahostileattitudetowardsthepublic.”

-Goethe

GettingintoTheSeasonsiseasierthanIexpected,butthenSamandIhaveextensive

poolcrashingexperience.

GrowinguponMaui,weprobablycrashedeveryhotelpoolontheislandatonepointor

another.Thesecretistodresslikeatourist,actlikeyoubelong,comearmedwitharoom
number,andbepreparedtoplaydumbifyougetcaught.

Butwewerenevercaughtwhenwewerekidsandtodayisnodifferent.

Westanduppaddleboardovertotheprivatebeachinourswimsuitsandbythetime

we’veorderedsmoothiesfromthecabanaandwanderedupthetrailtousetheshowers,
we’rejusttwomoreguestsenjoyingtheresort.I’mwearingmyballcapwithmyhair
tuckedunderneathandSamhasherbighatandglassesonagain.

She’svirtuallyunrecognizable,butIcantellthatshe’sstillonedge.NotthatIcanblame

her.

Idon’tblameherforrefusingtoletmecomealone,either.Twosetsofeyesandearsare

betterthanoneandateameffortisourbestbetforgettingtheinformationweneed.My
computerskillsaren’tuptohackingTheSeasonsdatabaseandthefrontdeskisnever
goingtotellacoupleofstrangersaguest’sroomnumber.

Theonlywaywe’regoingtofindoutwhereToddandtherestofthemarestayingisby

lurkingintherightplaceattherighttime.

“Ifyouneedtodisappear,I’llmeetyoubythepaddleboards,”IsayasIgetSamsettled

onabarstoolintheshadenotfarfromwherethepoolsidewaitressespickuptheirdrinks.

Samtugsherstrawhatloweronherface.“Okay,butyou’retheonewhoneedstobe

careful.Iseriouslydoubtanyofthemaregoingtogetofftheirlazyassesandcomeallthe
waydowntothebartogetadrinkwhentheycouldhavesomeonedeliverittotheir
loungechair.Lielowanddon’tattractattention.”

“Iwon’t.”IrubwhatIhopeisacomfortinghandupanddownherback.“Anddon’t

worry,theyaren’tgoingtoremembermyfacefromafewpicturestheysawonyourphone

overayearago.”

Iignoretheflashofangerthatfollowsmywords.

IhatethatpicturesSamtooktosendtome—privatepicturesofsometoysshe’dbought

andafewracyshotsofhermeanttoeasethelonelinessofbeingapartformonthsonend
—wereusedtopaintherassomekindofdeviantslutduringthetrial.Ihateevenmore
thatthosepicturesmighthavemadeheratargetinthefirstplace.

AlexcoppedtopassingSam’sphonearoundtoToddafewhoursbeforetheattack,but

we’llneverknowifthat’swhyhedecidedtoisolateSaminthepoolroomwhileaparty
ragedontheothersideofthebuilding.Iguess,intheend,itdoesn’tmatter.

Idon’tcarewhyTodddecidedtodowhathedid,onlythathepaysforit.

“Probablynot.”Samtakesadeepbreath,buthershouldersarestilltenseastheysettle

intoplace.“Butbecarefulanyway.Textmewhenyou’vegotthenumbersandI’llhead
backtothebeach.”

“Iwill.Andhaveabeerifyouthinkitwillhelpyourelaxalittle,”Isay.“Iknownormal

peoplecandothatwithoutwantingtodrinktheentirekeg.”

Herlipstwitch.“Areyoucallingmenormal?”

“Never,”Isay,leaningintokisshercheek.“You’rethebest.Seeyousoon.”

“Soon,”sheechoes,squeezingmyhandonelasttimebeforeIturnandstartdownthe

pathleadingtotheinfinitypool.

Therearesmaller,privatepoolssprinkledthroughouttheresort,butmygutsaysabunch

offraternityboyswillwanttobewherethepeopleare.They’llwanttoseeandbeseen,
andmaybepickupagirlortwototakeouttonight.

IsetupadummysocialmediaaccountmonthsagoandI’mfriendswithhalftheSBE

brothers.Iknowthatthey’repre-gamingatGuavaBarataneighboringresortandthen
headingouttotheclubthatjustopenedintheclosestvillage.IfSamwasn’tsoinsistenton
meavoidingcontactwiththedouchebags,Icouldprobablylurethemoutthebackdoorof
thedanceclubwithanoffertoshareabowlandhavetheminmytrunkafewminutes
later.

ButIknowshewantstokeepmesafe,soI’mwillingtoplaythingsherway.

Fornow.

AtleastuntilIhearthenewplanshecookedupwhileIwasoutteachingpeoplehowto

hangatentfromthesideofarockface.Shesaidshewantedtowaituntilwehadtheroom
numbersbeforeshefleshedoutthedetailssincethosewerenecessaryforwhatshehadin
mind.

Hopefully,beforethesunstartstoset,I’llhavewhatweneed.Ican’timaginefratboys

willwaitmuchmorethananhourbetweendrinks,notwhenthey’reonvacationand
poundingbeersisbasicallythesolereasonforjoiningafratinthefirstplace.

Ipauseintheshadenearthetowelreturn,scanningthepooldeckasIfinishmydrink.

Thefratboysare,asIsuspected,easytofind.

Abouttwentypasty,recentlygraduatedcollegekidswiththebeginningsofscorched

shouldersareloudlyholdingcourtattheoppositeendofthepool.Someonebroughtout
speakersthey’veattachedtooneoftheiriPhonesandtheyarethoughtlesslysubjectingthe
restofthegueststoBobMarleyplayedloudenoughtobeheardoverthewaterfallfeature
streamingfromthesecondflooroftheresort.

IspotJ.D.andJeremynearthespeakers,theirnearlyidenticaldarkbrownhaircutsdamp

fromthepool,laughingwithamuchbiggerguyIdon’trecognize.Toddhashisback
turnedtome,butI’velookedathispictureenoughinthepastyeartomemorizetheexact
fallofhisstupid,JustinBiebercirca2010haircutfromanyangle.He’sinthepool,his
armsdrapedbackacrosstheconcretebehindhimandahalf-emptybeerinonehand,
talkingtotwogirlsinbarely-therebikiniswhohavenoideathemanthey’reflirtingwith
isamonster.

ApartofmewantstowaituntilthewomenmoveawayfromToddandwarnthemto

staythehellawayfromhim,butIcan’taffordtoattractattentionandthere’snoguarantee
they’dbelieveme.I’mfourinchestallerandagoodfiftypoundsheavierthanTodd.On
thesurface,I’mprobablymoreimposingandmostpeopledon’tstoptolookbelowthe
surface,afactI’mgratefulforasIgrabatowelfromtheattendant—whodoesn’teven
bothertowritedowntheroomnumberImumblebeneathmybreath—andaimmyself
towardtheothersideofthepool.

Ifindafreeloungechaircloseenoughtopickoutthedetailsofvariousconversations,

buthopefullynotcloseenoughtogetonanyone’sradar,andsettlein.Ispreadoutmy
towel,stripoffmyteeshirt,andstretchoutonthechairwithmyphoneinmylapandmy
headtilteddown.IopenabookinmyKindleappandpretendtobereading,butI’mreally
justswipingmythumbeveryfewsecondsandwaitingforoneofthesebastardstoorder
morebeer.

WhileIwait,ItrytozoneoutandnotthinktoomuchaboutanythingelseI’m

overhearing.IfIlistentoocloselytothesefucksgoingabouttheirlivesliketheydeserve
tobefreeandsoakinginapoolatasevenhundreddollarpernightresort,Imightlose
controlandstranglethemrighthere.

ItwasclearfrommyfirstglimpseoftheSBEbrothersattheairportthatnoneofSam’s

attackersareplaguedbyguiltoverwhattheydid.Butseeingthemintheirelement,acting
liketheworldexistsonlytofacilitatetheirpleasure,talkingtothestaffwaitingonthem
likeshitandleavingtheiremptycupslitteredacrossthepooldeckinsteadoftakingthe
fivestepstothetrashcan,makesmesicktomystomach.

Thecoldestpartofmewantstokillthemall,wipeouttheentirefratbeforeanyofthese

arrogant,careless,greedytrustfundbabiescanpassontheirworthlessgenestoanother
generation.

Butthat’sthedifferencebetweensomeonelikeToddandsomeonelikeme.

Idon’tgivemymonsterfreereign.

Mymonsterwillonlybeallowedoutofitscageforonenightandonlyonelifewillbe

lost.His.

IglanceupintimetoseeToddliftinghishandtothewaitressontheothersideofthe

poolandtohearhiminsultthesizeofherasswhenittakesherlongerthanhewould
preferforhertomakeherwaythroughthecrowd.Thetwogirlslaughathisjokeandcast
nastylooksattheotherwomanasshesquatsdownbesidethewatertotakeTodd’sorder,
eyeingherperfectlyhealthy-sizedbacksidelikeit’sanoffensetotheirsenseofdecency.

IdeciderightthenthattheydeserveToddWinslow,afterall.

“I’lltakeanotherCoronaandbringtwomaitaisformyfriends.”Toddflickshisempty

caninthewaitress’sdirectionwhileshetriestowritedownhisorderandcleanuphis
messatthesametime.“Andmakesurethedrinksarecoldthistime.I’mnotpayingten
dollarsforhotbeer.”

“Thankyou,sir,”thewaitresssaysinaresignedvoicethatmakesitclearshe’susedto

dealingwithassholeslikethisonadailybasis.“Roomnumber?”

“TheRosaBlancasuite,”Toddsayswithasigh.“Thirdtime.”

“Ofcourse.Berightback.”Thewaitressstandsandhurriesawaytowardthebar.

Toddrollshiseyes,makinghisaudienceoftwogiggle.Onegirlshakesherheadand

insiststhatlazinessisthereasonpeoplefromthirdworldcountrieslagbehindtherestof
theworld.

Likemostidiots,shedoesn’trealizethattheU.S.ispracticallyathirdworldcountry,the

dividebetweenthehavesandhave-notshasgrownsovast.Andiftherichkeepinggetting
taxbreaksandtheU.S.continuestobetheonlydevelopedcountrythatdoesn’tensureits
citizenshavehealthcare,soonwe’llbeslippingevenfurtherbehindtherestoftheworld.
Afterall,therearealreadycountiesintheAmericanSouthwithlowerlifeexpectancies
thanBangladesh.Iknow.Iusedtoliveinoneofthem.

Ignoringthechatteroftheentitledandclueless,Igritmyteethandturnbacktomy

phone,makinganotethatToddisintheRosaBlancasuitethoughIknowIwon’tforget.

Iwon’tforgetamomentofthisafternoon.

There’ssomethingintimateaboutknowingyou’regoingtokillsomeone,somethingthat

makesmehyperawareofTodd’severymovement,hiseverybreath.Mycommitmentto
destroyinghimmakesmefeelweirdlyconnectedtothemanandIhatehimforthat,too.I
don’twanttofeelconnectedtothepersonwhonearlydestroyedthewomanIlove.Ijust
wanthimtobegone.

BythetimeIfinallygetroomnumbersforJ.D.andJeremy—rooms2012and2015

respectively—I’msicktomystomach.Iwouldblamethesmoothie,butfoodpoisoning
takeslongertotakeeffect.

TheknotinmygutisallthankstotheSigmaBetaEpsilonbrothers.

Tuckingmyphonebackintomypocket,Igrabmyshirtandtowelandstartbacktoward

thetoweldesk.I’mnearlytothefarsideofthepoolwhenapricklingfeelingbetweenmy
shoulderbladesmakesmepauseandglancebackovermyshouldertofindToddWinslow
watchingmewalkaway.

Mysunglassesarecompletelyreflective.There’snowayhecanseemyeyes,butfor

somereasonIcan’tshakethefeelingthathe’sstaringrightatme.

Ipause,glancingattheclocksetintothebricksbesidethetoursandactivitiesdeskon

theothersideofthepool,thencheckmyphone,pretendingtherewassomevalidreason
forlookingbackasidefromthefactthatmylizardbrainsensedI’dattractedapredator’s
attention.AsIturnagain,IriskaglanceTodd’swaytofindhimonceagainfocusedonthe
twoincreasinglywastedgirlshe’sbeenflirtingwithforthepasthour.

Apartofmeinsiststhemomentofeyecontactwasjustacoincidence,butanotherpart

ofmethinksToddisasawareofmeasIamofhim.

Itossmyusedtowelintothebinbutleavemyteeshirtoff,hopingthecoolaircoming

offthewaterwillhelprelievethenauseamakingmystomachpulsebeneathmyribs.By
thetimeIgetbacktoSam,I’mfeelingbetterandhaveconvincedmyselfthatIdon’thave
tosayanythingtoheraboutthatoneuncomfortablemoment.

Toddwassowrappedupinhimselfhehadn’tnoticedmetheentiretimeIwas

eavesdroppingonhisconversation.Itmusthavebeenthesuddenmovementthatcaught
hiseye.Hewouldhaveglancedupnomatterwhogotupfromtheirloungechairand
walkedaway.Thelookmeantnothing.Hedidn’trecognizeme;heisn’tsuspicious.

Everythingisfine,orasfineasitcanbeconsideringthecircumstances.

AsIhugSamcloseandwhisper,“I’vegoteverythingweneed,”Ibelieveit.Ibelieve

becauseit’swhatIwanttobelieveandbecauseI’vemistakenTodd’slackofguiltfora
beliefinhisowninnocence.

Thosetwothingscanlookthesamefromtheoutside,buttheyaren’t.

Amanwhobelieveshe’sinnocentisn’tlookingoverhisshoulder.Amanwhoknows

he’sguilty,butdoesn’tgiveashit,sleepswithoneeyeopen,determinedthatsomeoneelse
willalwayspaythepriceforhissins.

LaterIwouldlookbackandunderstandthedistinction,butrightnowI’mstillinnocent

enoughtowalkdowntothebeachwithmyarmaroundSam,thinkingnomistakeshave
beenmade.

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

Sam

“Knowingisnotenough;wemustapply.

Willingisnotenough;wemustdo.”

-Goethe

Hiringaprostituteisaloteasierthanbuyingagunorakiloofcocaine.

Andneitherofthosewerearealstrain,consideringIhavevirtuallynoexperiencewith

thecriminalelement.

Iwantedtomeetwiththewomanwetrackeddownthroughadatingapp—mySpanishis

betterthanDanny’sandIdidn’twanthertobefreakedoutbymeetingsomeoneaslarge
asDannyinadarkalley.Buthesaidshewasmorelikelytorememberthedetailsofbeing
hiredbyawomanthanamanandIhadtoadmithewasright.

SoIpreppedhiminadvanceandkeptmyphoneinmylapwhilehewenttothemeeting,

justincaseheneededhelpansweringanyofthewoman’squestions.Turnsout,her
EnglishwasprobablybetterthanmySpanishandsheandDannyhadallthedetailsofthe
“surprise”forhisbuddiesworkedoutintenminutes.

LateTuesdayafternoon,Dannywillmeethernearthemarket,payhalfherfee,anddrop

heroffatTheSeasons.Fromthere,she’llcalluptoJ.D.’sandJeremy’sroomsandguide
themtothelocationoftheprivateparty,allegedlyorganizedbytheirfriend“Todd”,the
nameDannygaveherwhentheymet.Sheassumesshe’llbemeetingToddandacoupleof
otherprostitutesatthesmallhousewe’verentedforthenight,wherethey’llpartyand
she’llreceivetheotherhalfofherfee.

Instead,DannyandIwillbewaitingwithmasksonjustinsidethedoor.

I’minchargeofknockingthewomanoutwithachokeholdandthendosingherwith

enoughketaminetokeepherknockedoutforanhourorso;Danny’sinchargeof
knockingthemenout,administeringtheirdoseoftheknockoutdrug,andgettingthem
intothetrunkoftherentalcar.

Fromthere,ourpathswilldiverge.DannywilltakeJ.D.andJeremyouttothepithe’s

duginthejungle,andI’lltakeRosabacktoherapartment,whereI’llleaveherwiththe
otherhalfofhermoney.

“That’sit,”Dannysays,leaningforwardtowritedownthenumberofRosa’sapartment

building.“Fourteentwenty-three.”

We’vebeenfollowingRosa—orwhateverherrealnameis—foroverthreehours.From

thealleywhereshemetwithDanny,toaswankyhotelwhereshewentupstairswitha
mantwiceherage,tothemarketwheresheboughtmilk,freshfruit,andtampons,and
nowtothiscrumblingapartmentbuildingnearthesouthernedgeofLiberia.

“Thisisgood.”IstudytheentranceasDannyandIwalkby,thehoodsofoursweatshirts

pulledupagainstthecoolwind.Thetemperaturedroppedsuddenlytonightandthoughit’s
stillinthehighsixties,itfeelscoolaftereighty-degreedays.“There’salobbywithasofa
infrontofthemailboxes.Sheshouldbesafethereuntilshewakesup,withtwolocked
doorsbetweenherandthestreet.”

“Areyougoingtobeabletocarryherin?”Dannyasks.“Evenifyouparkclose,there

aretenstepsuptothelobby.”

Imakeascoffingnoise.“She’saboutasbigaroundasmythigh.IthinkI’llmanage.”

“Sheistiny.”Heputshisarmaroundmywaistwithasigh.“Ifeelbadforher.Iknow

there’snothingwecando,but…”

“Iknow.”Ileanintohimasweturnthecorner,startingbacktowardthewell-litstreets

oftheCentrowhereweparkedthecar.“Iwouldsaythatmaybebeingdruggedwillgive
herawake-upcallthatit’stimetofindotherwork,butit’snotlikeprostitutionisany
woman’sfirstchoice.I’msureshedoesn’tfeellikeshehasotheroptionsorshewouldn’t
besellingherself.”

“Isthisfuckedup?”Dannyasks,hisvoicelow.“Feelingbadforaprostitutewhenwe’re

planningtokillaman?”

Iconsiderthequestion,afaintniggleofguilttuggingatthebackofmymind.“Idon’t

know.Maybe.ButIdon’tthinkrightandwrongareassimpleassomepeoplewouldhave
youbelieve.”

“Soundslikesomethingmysisterwouldsay.”

“IwishIknewherbetter,”Isay.“Irememberwhatyousaidlastsummer,aboutherand

Gabestillstealingthings.Doyouknowwhy?”

Heshrugs.“We’venevertalkedaboutit,butIthinkit’stheirwayoffeelinglikethey’re

givingback.TheybothhaveaRobinHoodcomplex,alwayslookingoutforthe
underdog.”

“Stealingfromtherichandgivingtothepoor?”

“Somethinglikethat,”hesays,beforecontinuinginawrytone.“Butit’spart

entertainment,too.Ithinktheygetoffontherushofbreakingthelawandnotgetting
caught.”

Iblink,surprised.“Wow…that’s…Idon’tknow.I’drathergosurfing.”

“Metoo,”hesayswithalaugh.“Ormountain-bikingorcliffcamping.That’smyideaof

arush.”

Hissmilefadesasheshoveshishoodieoffhisheadwithonebighand.“Ineverthought

I’dbelikethem.NotthatIjudgethemorthinkI’mbetterthantheyareoranything.I
just…didn’tseemyselfgoingthatway.”

Mythroattightens,butIdon’tpullaway.I’mlearningnottorun,evenwhenbeingclose

scaresme.“Doyouthinkyou’llresentmesomeday?Whenit’salloverandyou’vehad
timetoregreteverythingwe’redoing?”

“Never,”heanswersimmediately.

“You’resure?”

“Positive.”Hisfingerscurlintomyshoulder.“I’vealwaysknowntheworldisn’tfair,

butthisgoessofarbeyondunfair.They’recriminals,andcriminalsshouldn’tbeableto
hurtpeopleandwalkawaywithoutamarkonthem.That’swhatIbelieveandI’mnot
goingtoregretstandingupforit.Orforyou.”

Webothfallquiet,Dannyholdingmeclosetohissideashescansthestreet,watchfulfor

potentialthreats.Iwonderifhe’sthinkingaboutthatnightinAuckland,whenwewere
almostmugged.

Nomatterhowdangerousitwas,I’mgladIfoughtback.Ineverwanttobeavictim

again.

ButIdon’twanttobeoneofthebadguys,either.

“ShouldwecallRosaandcancel?”Istopinthemiddleofthesidewalk,turningtoface

Dannyinthedimlightoftheflickeringstreetlampattheendoftheblock.

“No!Why?”Hisbrowfurrows.“I’mjusttalking,Sam.I’mnotsecond-guessingthe

plan.It’ssolid.Waybetterthanmine.Thisway,J.D.andJeremyneverseeourfacesand
theonlypersonwhocanconnectustothemisaprostitutewhoisn’tgoingtowanttotalk
tothepolice.”

“Iknow,butwhatifIhurther?”Iask.“Whatifshehasabadreactiontothedrug?Or

whatifsheslipsoutofthechokeholdandIhavetofighther?Icouldendupbreakingher
noseor—”

“You’renotgoingtobreakhernose,”Dannysays.“Youknowwhatyou’redoingandthe

ketaminewillkeepherout.Andshe’snotgoingtoexpectyoutobegrabbingherfrom
behind.She’llbeoutbeforeshehasachancetofightback.”

“Butthereisachancesomethingwillgowrongandshe’llpaythepriceforit,”Iinsist.

“That’sthereality.I’mjustifyinghurtingthiswomanbecausesomeonehurtme.I’msure
thatkidwhotriedtomuguslastsummerwasdoingthesamething.Someonehurthim
andsohedecidedtohurtusandtakewhatheneededtosurvive.”

Dannyshakeshishead.“It’snotthesamething,Sam.”

“It’scloseenough.Maybetooclose.”Iclosemyeyes,pinchingtheachingplacesatthe

backsofmylidstogetherwithmyfingerandthumb.“Idon’tknow.Idon’tknowwhereto
drawthelineanymore.”

“Andthat’sokay.That’swhyI’mhere,”hesays,fingerscirclingmywrist,tuggingmy

handawayfrommyeyesocketsandgivingitagentleshake.“Lookatme.”

Iopenmyeyesandlookupintohisshadowedface.

“Thisisn’tgoingtobeeasy.Breakingtherulesneveris,”hesays.“Butthatdoesn’t

meansomeofthemdon’tneedtobebroken.J.D.andJeremyneedtobetaughtalesson.
AndToddhastodie.Ifhelives,youknowhe’sgoingtohurtsomeoneelse,ahellofalot
worsethanyou’llhurtRosa.He’llprobablyhurtalotofpeople.”

“Iknow.”Inod,swallowingpastthelumpinmythroat.

“There’sonlyonereasontochangetheplan,”Dannysays.“Andthat’sifyouthink

you’regoingtobeexchangingonethingthatwilleatyoualiveforanother.That’swhat
CaitlinsaidtomewhenIfirststartedtalkingaboutrevenge.Shedidn’ttellmenotto,just
nottogetcaught,andnottodoitifIcouldn’twalkawayfromitafterandfindawaytobe
happy.”

IliftmyhandstoDanny’schest,lettingthemrestthere,feelinghismusclesstrongand

solidbeneathmypalms.“Untilthatnightatthehotspring…Ididn’tthinkIremembered
howtobehappy.”

“Iknow.”Hecoversmyhandswithhis,warmingmycoolfingers.“Somaybethings

havechangednow.That’sokay,too.It’sokaytochangeyourmind.I’mwithyou,no
matterwhatyoudecide.I’mgoingtobefineeitherway,aslongasIknowwe’re
together.”

Westandinsilence,butIcan’tconcentrateonanythingexceptthefeelofhisheartbeat

pulsingsteadilybeneathmyfingertips.

Preciousheart.Preciouschest.

CanIputtheminmoredanger?NomatterhowsolidtheplanorhowmuchIneedtosee

justicedone?DoesittakemorestrengthtofollowthroughwithwhatI’vestartedorto
walkaway?

MaybeDannyandIcanbefreewithoutthis.MaybeallIhavetodoisletgoandgive

myselfpermissiontobehappyagain.

Happy,whilethemanwholookedyouintheeyesandsmiledwhilemenrapedyougoes

free,usingthiseasyescapeasareasontobelieveheisabovethelaw.

Untouchable.

Unstoppable.

Andthenexttimehehurtssomeone,herbloodwillbeonyourhandsasmuchashis.

“Idon’tknow,”Iwhisper.“Idon’tknowwhattodo.”

“Thenwedon’tdoanything.”Hetakesmyhandinhisandsqueezestight.“We’lllet

thingsstandfornow.We’vegotthreemoredays.ComeTuesdaymorning,ifyou’ve
changedyourmind,wecancallthingsoffwithRosathen.Youdon’thavetodecideright
now.Midnightdecisionsareneveragoodideaanyway.”

Iglancesharplyupathim,eyeswidening.“You’rekiddingme.It’snotmidnight.”

“Notkidding.”Heslipshisphonefromhispocketandhitsthebutton,illuminatingthe

screenshowingthat’sit’snearlyaquarteraftertwelve.“AndItoldPaolaI’dhelpherlead

thefirstziplinetourtomorrowsinceHenripulledhisshoulder.Weshouldheadback.”

“Allright.”Holdingontohishand,wesetafasterclipthroughtheCentroandbackto

thecar.Wedon’ttalkmuchonthewaybacktothecabinorwhilegettingreadyforbed.

Butwhenwe’rebeneaththecovers,Dannyturnstomeandpullsmeintohisarms,

whispering,“Whateveryoudecide,Sam.Really.Therewillneverbeanyjudgmentfrom
me,eitherway.”

Andthenhemakeslovetomewithanhonestythatmakesmebelievehim.Buteven

thoughitfeelssorighttobeinhisarmsandIknowhe’stellingthetruth,Ikeepthinking
backtothethingshesaidlastsummerwhenwewereonthevergeoffallingapart,when
hemadeitclearherisesorfallsaccordingtomylead.

Lastyear,Itumbledoffthepedestalhe’dputmeonanddraggedhimdownwithme.He

felloffthewagonandhadbeenreadytobreakimportantpromiseshe’dmadetohisfamily
allbecauseI’dfailedtobetheherohe’dthoughtIwas.

Iknowit’snotrighttoexpectmyselftobestrongandgoodfortwopeople,butwhat’s

rightandwhat’struearerarelythesamething.

DannyandIhavealreadyadmittedthatwearen’twholewithouteachother.Maybewe’ll

alwaysbethatway.Maybefallinginlovesoyoungandmakingforeverpromiseswhen
wehadnoideahowlongforevercouldbehascrippledusasindividuals.Alone,we
probablyaren’twhatpsychiatristswouldconsiderstable,buttogetherwearesolid,
unstoppable.

Butithasalmostalwaysbeenmyjobtoputonthebrakes,todecidewhetherweshould

useourunstoppableenergyforgoodortocallatimeoutwhenwe’regettingcloseto
doingsomethingweshouldn’t.Iwasn’tuptothejoblastyearandI’mnotsureI’muptoit
now.

IonlyknowthatIlovehim,thismanwhowrapshisarmaroundmywaistandcurlshis

strongbodyintominewithanintensitythatmakesitclearhe’dsheltermefromeveryhurt
intheworldifhecould.Heisourheart.Iamourconscience.AndifIdon’twanttoput
bothofusatriskagain,Ineedtostartdoingmyjob.

Ineedtodecidewhat’smoreimportant—revengeorthesafetyofthemanIlove—andI

havetodecidequickly.

Theclockistickingandliveshanginthebalance.NotjustTodd’slife,orJ.D.’sor

Jeremy’s,butmineandDanny’sandthelivesofthepeoplewholoveus,whowillsuffer
theaftershocksofthedecisionswemake.

Decisionsthatoncemadecanneverbeunmade,nomatterhowmanynightsIlieinthe

dark,staringupattheceiling,wonderingifIshouldhavedonethingsdifferently.

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

Danny

“Nothingshowsaman’scharactermorethanwhathelaughsat.”

-Goethe

IcantellthequestionofwhattodowiththeSBEbrothersisweighingonSaminaway

itwasn’tbefore,butI’mnotgoingtotrytotalktoheraboutitagain.

NomatterhowmuchIloveherorhatethemenwhohurther,myopiniondoesn’tmatter.

Thisisherwar.Shehastomakethefinalcallandgivethemarchingorders.Andifshe
sayswewalkaway,I’llwalkaway,nomatterhowmuchIwanttopunishthoseassholesor
howmuchtheydeserveit.

IfSamdoesn’tthinkshe’llbeabletolivewithherselfafter,Iwilltakeherhand,geton

theplanetoThailand,anddomybesttoforgetaboutthemenwhostoleayearofourlives
together,forgetthattheyarestilloutthere,livingalifewithoutscarsorconsequences.

I’madifferentpersonthanIwasayearago.

Istillwanttodotherightthing,butmoreimportantly,Iwanttodotherightthingfor

Sam.Nothingismoreimportantthanthat.Iletherdownoncebybeingtoofocusedonan
idealinsteadofthewomanIlove.Iwon’tmakethesamemistakeagain.

Saturdaymorning,Ieaseoutofbedquietly,figuringatleastSamshouldbeabletosleep

inafterthelatenight.IdressquicklyandtuckmytoothbrushintomybagsoIcango
straightfromthemesshalltothevisitorcenterafterbreakfast.

Onmywayout,Ipauseatthedoor,lookingbackatthebed.

Samiscurledonhersidewithonearmtuckedunderherpillow,herlighterhairmaking

thesmatteringoffrecklesonhernosestandoutmorethantheydidbefore.Withthe
frecklesandherfacesoftwithsleep,shelookssomuchyounger.Shecouldbefourteen,
thirteen,thatsamegirlinthefluffyblackdressandcombatbootswhocaredenoughabout
thenewkidtostepinandspeakupwhenIwasabouttogetmyasskicked.

She’salwaysbeenagoodperson.I’mnotsurprisedthatshe’sreachedacrossroadswith

herownconsciencenowthatthetimetoactissoclose.IjusthopesheunderstandsthatI
meantwhatIsaidlastnight.I’mnotgoingtojudgeher,eitherway.Ifshewantstowalk,
I’llwalk.Andifsheneedsvengeance,I’llhelphertakeit.Iwouldtakeitforherifshe
wouldletme,butshe’salwaysbeenonetofightherownbattles,evenwhenshewasa

littlegirlstandinguptobulliestwicehersize.

Myheartturnsover,mychestachingwithlovesofierceitfeelslikeitmighttearme

apart.

I’mtemptedtocrosstothebedandkissherawake,justtohearhersaygoodbye,but

insteadIshutthedoorandstarttowardthemesshall.Sheneedsrestifshe’sgoingtolook
allthehardquestionsinthefaceandfindanswersandIhavetogetfoodinmybellyand
mytiredassreadyforwork.

AsIcrossthehard-packedground,theairaroundmeisfillingwiththesoundsofthe

compoundcomingtolife.Butgently,thepeopleandanimalsandthesoundsofboth
startingtheirdaysinharmonywitheachother.Thisisaspecialplace,sounspoiledthatI
can’thelpwishingSamandIwereherejusttoenjoythepeace.

ThisisaplacewhereNaturerulesandthoughsheisn’talwayskind,sheatleastgives

youafightingchance.Naturedoesn’tbelieveininequality.Theweakeranimalshave
superiornumbersandadaptationstoprotectthem,andthestrongeranimalshavetofight
tosurviveeverybitasmuchasthecreaturestheypreyupon.There’sharmonyinthatand
inthewaythesepeoplehavecarvedoutanexistencefromthejunglewithoutdisturbing
thenaturalorder.

It’seasytofindyourcenterhere,andbythetimeI’vehadcoffeeandeggswithrice,I’m

lookingforwardtoadayoutsideinthesun,enjoyingthesimplethings.

ButIshouldhaveknownbetterthantodropmyguard.

It’sasmallworld,especiallythiscornerofit,andnored-bloodedAmericanfratboycan

resistthecallofanExtremeZipLine.Still,whenIjumpoutofPaola’sjeepatthevisitor
centertofindtheentireSigmaBetaEpsilonfratsprawledacrossthebenchesoutsidethe
officeandspillingdownthefrontsteps,Ican’tbelievemyshitluck.

Buttheretheyare—J.D.,Jeremy,andTodd,whoisalreadyhittingonapretty,way-too-

young-for-himblondgirlinablacktanktop.He’swearingafadedorangeteeshirtand
thatsmuglookthatmakesmewanttopunchhiminthemouthafewhundredtimes.

Mygutscreamsformetogetoutofhere,butIcan’t.IfIplaysick,Paolawon’tbeable

togetanyoneelsehereintimetohelpherleadthetour.

Besides,Toddhasalreadyspottedme.

AsIclimbthestepsbehindPaolatograbthemanifestandmakesurethewaivershave

allbeensigned,Icanfeelhiseyesonme.There’snoquestionnow.Herecognizesme—
eitherfromthepoolorthepicturesonSam’sphone.Ifit’sthefirst,Icanplayitoffand
saythatIhavefriendsattheresortwholetmecomeusethepoolonmydaysoff.

Butifit’sthesecond…

IforceasmileforPaolaasshemakesajokeabouttheamountoftestosteroneonthetour

today—asidefromthegirlToddisflirtingwith,who’sherewithherparentsandyounger
brother,thereareonlytwootherwomen—butinsideI’mmakingplans.

Therearefifteendifferentziplinesandtheplatformsinthemiddleofthetourareover

twohundredfeetintheair.We’restrappedinatalltimes—eithertoaplatformorthezip

line—butifsomeoneweretoaccidentallybecomedetached,stumble,andtakeafalloff
oneofthosebiggerplatforms,itwouldbedeadly.It’shappenedbeforeatotherziplines.
That’swhyeveryoneonthesetoursisrequiredtosignawaiveracknowledgingthatthey
won’tholdthecompanyresponsibleifthey’reseriouslyinjuredorevenkilled.

IfToddrecognizesmeasSam’sboyfriend,itwillnolongerbeamatterofwhatshe

wants.Thedecisionwillbeoutofherhands.I’llhavetotakecareofhimtoday.

Toddisamonster,buthe’snotanidiot.He’llrealizeit’snocoincidencethatthe

boyfriendofthewomanherapedisinatinyvacationtowninCostaRicatheexactsame
weekthatheis.He’llsuspectsomethingandhe’snotthetypetoconsideralltheoptions
beforeheacts.He’lltakestepstoneutralizethethreattohissafetyandifI’mnotcareful,I
couldbetheonetakingafall.

I’mgoingtohavetokeepacloseeyeonhim,allwhilepretendingtobefineandkeeping

abunchofhungoverfratboysfromgettinghurtintheprocess.

ThethoughtobliteratesthelastofmyZen.

ThebeerfumesrisingoffthegrouparesopotentI’mprettysureit’saviolationofmy

sobrietytobreathetheairaroundthemfortoolong.Itmakesmefeelsorryforthesix
peopleonthetourwhoweren’tupallnightchuggingbeer.

AsPaolaandIgatherthegroupoftwenty-fivetogetheratthetrailheadandshestarts

briefingthemonthesafetyprocedures,InoticethefamilyoffourandthetwoGerman
womenarecarefultostayatthefaredgeofthepressofstinkingbodies.I’mdisgustedon
theirbehalf.

Theprivileged,American,twenty-somethingmaleisanembarrassmenttoourcountry.I

exemptmyselffromthegroupbyvirtueofthefactthatI’velivedinCroatiasinceIwas
thirteen,andthoughmysistermarriedintomoneysheusedtofinishraisingme,Istarted
mylifeinthegutter.Andthemarksofthegutternevertrulyleaveyou.

Apartofmeisstillthatferallittleshitwholearnedtoscarethebulliesawaybyhitting

harderthananyoftheotherrunts.Hewillalwaysbewithme,likemydamagedmolars,a
resultofchildhoodtoothdecayfuckingupmyadultteeth.BeforeCaitlintookoverasmy
surrogatemother,workedherassofftoaffordtripstothedentist,andforcedmy
ungratefulasstobrush,noonecaredifIwenttobeddirtywithteeththathadn’tbeen
cleanedinaweek.

Myinnerhoodratisawakeandwatchfulnow.EvenasIsmileandintroducemyself,

seemingtoscantheentiregroupinfrontofme,myfocusisonTodd,waitingforhimto
confirmthathe’sathreat.Iremembertheviolentlessonsofmyearlychildhoodwell.
Destroyorbedestroyed,throwthefirstpunchorwishyouhadwhenyouendupinthe
hospitalpissingbloodbecausetheguywhogotthejumponyoudamagedyourkidneys.

Thoselessonshadbeguntofadefrommyconsciousmind,butthepastyearhasbrought

themallbacktothesurface,wherethey’regoingtostay.Iwon’tmakethemistakeof
believingintheendofhardtimesorhappilyeverafteragain.

NomatterhowmuchIwishtheworldwereasafeplaceforgoodpeople,itisn’t.

Itisn’tenoughtodoyourbest,loveyourfellowman,andtrytodonoharm.Sometimes

youhavetobereadytofightback,andfightdirtybecausetheonethingyoucanbesureof
isthatthebadguysneverplayfair.

“Anyquestions?”Paolaasksinherstrangelittleaccentthathashalfthefratboys

smirkingateachotherbeneaththeirballcaps.

Paolaispetite,withlongdarkhairshewearspulledbackinaponytail,bigbrowneyes,

andaperpetuallyfriendlyexpressiononhermakeup-freeface.She’smorecutethansexy,
butIguesstheaccentisenoughtogettheSBEbrothersgoing.

Great,anotherthingtoaddtomylist:keepaneyeonPaola.

She’swiryandalottougherthanshelooks,butsheshouldn’thavetodefendherself

fromsexualharassmentwhileshe’satwork.Ifthesebooze-soakedlosersstepoverthe
line,I’llmakesuretheyknowtotakeastepback.

“Allright,iftherearenoquestions,thenlet’sgetstarted!It’sgoingtobeabeautiful

day.”Paolagrinsandturnstoleadthewayupthetrailtothefirstziplineplatform.

Ihangback,waitingfortherestofthetourtofallinbehindherbeforeIfollowupfrom

therear.Onhiswayby,Toddsmilesandnodshisheadinmydirection.“What’sup,man?
Youalwayslettheladydothetalking?”

Igrinandstretchlazily,forcingmyselftoactlikeIdon’twanttosmashhisheadagainst

thenearestrockuntilitexplodes.“She’sbetteratitthanIam,”Idrawl.“Especiallythis
earlyinthemorning.IfIwereonvacation,I’dstillbeasleep,dude.”

Helaughs.“Yeah,Ihadtodraghalftheseassholesoutofbedthismorning.Somepeople

havetobeforcedintoagoodtime.”

Itellmyselfhe’snottalkingaboutSamandwhathebulliedtherestofhisfriendsinto

doingtoher.ItellmyselfIcan’tlosecontrolthreefuckingstepsintothehike.Itellmyself
thatifIbreaknowIwillhavetippedmyhandandToddwillhavetheadvantagefromhere
onout.

Inthefivesecondsittakestoformmyreply,Itellmyselfalotofsmartthings,butitstill

takesalltheself-controlIpossesstoforceanothersmileandsay,“Ihearya.Butit’sgreat
outhere.Yourfriendsaregoingtohaveablast.”

“Nodoubt,man,”hesays,hiseyesnarrowingonmyfaceforasecondbeforeheturns

andstartsupthetrail.

Inoticethathe’smanagedtofallinrightbehindthegirlhewastalkingtowhenIdrove

up—thegirlwhoisherewithherfamilyandprobablynomorethansixteenyearsold.I
wonderifthatwasthereasonforourconversation.Maybehewasjuststallingtoget
closertothegirl.

Ormaybeheintendedeverywordtobeadouble-edgedswordshovedstraightintomy

gut.

Idon’tknow,butthebriefinteractionputsmeevenmoreonedge.

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

Danny

Allthewayuptothefirstplatform,I’mreplayingeverywordandfightingthewaveof

sicknessthatsendsmybreakfastgurglingbackupmythroat.

Ican’tbelieveIspoketohim.Ican’tbelieveIsmiledatthemanwhorapedmy

girlfriend.

ThejungleblursandinmymindIseehishandsonher,keepimaginingthatsmugsmile

onhisfacewhilehefilmedhisfriendstakingturns.It’sallIcandonottorushhim,tackle
himtotheground,andbeathimuntilhe’snothingbutabloodystainontheforestfloor.

Itshouldn’thavetobethisway.Ishouldn’thavetohidemyrageandhate.Ishouldbe

abletothrowmyknowledgeofwhathe’sdoneinhisfaceandchallengehimtoafightto
thedeath.Righthere,rightnow.

Civilizationhasgonetoofar.Yes,weshouldfeedthehungryandhealthesick.Yes,we

shouldhaveequalrightsandequalpayandanendtodiscriminationforthecolorofyour
skinorwhoyouchoosetolove.Butweshouldbringbacktheduel.Ishouldbeabletocall
Toddoutandfighthimwithswordsorgunsorfists.

Ishouldbeabletokillhimforwhathe’sdone.

Itismyrightassomeonewholovesthepersonhenearlydestroyed.

Wecoastdownthefirstziplineandpresshigherintothemountains.Thesunisshining

brightly,butacoolbreezestirsthecanopy,keepingthehumidityatbay.It’sthenicestday
sinceIarrivedinCostaRica,butImightaswellbeinhell.

AsIfollowthethreemenwhoattackedSamdeeperintothejungle,Islowlystarttolose

myshit.ItrytosmileandjokewiththeotherguysasIstraptheminandpretendthisis
justanothertour,likethehundredsofothersI’veledformycompanyinCroatiaand
othersacrossEurope,butinsideI’mdying.Icanfeelmytemperaturespikingandmy
stomachchurninglikeIjustchuggedabottlefullofacidinsteadofvitaminwater.

ThestressofkeepingeverythingI’mfeelinglockedinsideismakingmephysicallyill.

SweatpoursdownmyfaceandmyhandsshakeasIdoublechecktheshorterGerman
woman’sharness,whichshesaidfeltlooseonthelastride.Shesmilesandthanksme
after,butshootsmealookthatmakesitclearIlookasshittyasIfeel.

Asshewalksaway,takingherplaceinthelineupforthethirdzipline,Paola—whois

abouttoclimbtheplatform—pausesandreversesdirection,comingtostandbesideme.

“Youdon’tlooksogood,Danny.Areyouokay?”Shetriestolaythebackofherhandon

myforehead,butIstepaway.

“Youdon’twanttotouchme,P,”Isay,withashakylaugh.“I’msweatinglikeapig.”

Shefrowns.“Icansee.Michaelsaidthere’ssomethinggoingaroundfromthecruiseship

thatlandedafewdaysago.Anastyvirusorsomething.Maybeyou’vecaughtit.Dowe
needtoturnaround?”

Ishakemyhead.

’mnotturningaround.Idon’twanttogivethebrothersanymorereasontoremember

meandIstillneedtofigureoutifTodd’splayinggamesorifhethinksI’mjustatour
guide.“Nah,I’llbefine.Ithinkit’ssomethingIatelastnight.I’llpushthrough.”

“Allright,butwhydon’tyoutakeafewminutestoyourselfoncewegetthelastofthem

ontheline,”shesays.“I’mgoingtotakethegroupuptothewaterfallforarestandposing
forpictures.Youcanrejoinusonthetrailonthewaydown.Thatwillspareyouamileof
hiking.”

“Thanks,”Isay,knowingIneedthetimetopullmyselftogether,buthatingtoleave

Paolaalonewiththiscrew.“Don’ttakeanyshitfromthejocks,okay?Andradioifyou
needhelp.Icanbethereinfiveminutes.”

Herdarkeyesflashasshesmiles.“Don’tworryaboutme,hero.Icanhandlemyself.”

Shepatsmeaffectionatelyonthebackandstartstowardtheplatform,havingnoidea

she’soutinthemiddleofnowherewiththreemenwhowouldbeinprisonrightnowif
justicehadbeenserved.

Imopthesweatfrommyfacewiththebottomofmyshirt,forceasmile,andsomehow

managetogetalltwenty-fivepeoplesentdowntheziplinewithouttossinganyofthe
SBEbrothersofftheedgeoftheplatform.

Ifan“accident”happens,it’sgoingtohavetobewhenToddandIarealone,andwe

haven’treachedthehighestlinesyet.Thisplatformisonlyahundredfeetofftheground.
That’spotentiallysurvivable,andifIsendtheguyflying,Iwanttomakesurehe’snever
goingtobegettingupafterhehitstheground.

OnceI’malone,Isitdownintheshadeandclosemyeyes,centeringmyself,pushing

awayalltheemotionstyingmybodyinknots.

Thereisatimeandaplaceforpassion,butthisisn’tit.Ineedtobecalm,calculating,in

control.IfSamcanholdittogetherwhileshe’sinthesamespacewiththeseguys,Ican,
too.They’verippedmyworldapart,butthey’veneverlaidhandsonme,andiftheydid,
I’mstrongenoughtotakeonallthreeofthemandcomeoutontop.Nomatterhowfar
womenhavecomeinthepastcentury,it’sstillfarsafertobeaman.

ItmakesmehopeSamandIhaveboysjustsoIdon’thavetofeelsodamnedscaredfor

mykidsallthetime.

Justafewdaysago,IwassurethedreamofafamilywithSamwasdeadandburied.But

now,Icanseeaglimmerofhopeinthefuture.Someday,whenallthisisoverandSam
andIhavebothhadtimetoheal,we’llbesettledandhappytogether.Andeventuallythat

happinesswillgetsobigwe’llbereadytoshareitwithsomeoneelse,someonewho’shalf
herandhalfmeandwhowe’llloveenoughtomakeupforallthehorriblethingsinthe
world.

WejusthavetomakeittoWednesdaymorningandgetonthatplaneandallthingswill

bepossible.

Focusingonthefuture,onthatnot-too-distanttimewhenToddwillceasetoexistforme

andSam,helpsmegroundmyself.Itdoesn’tmatterifhe’sdeadorjustsomewherefar,far
away,he’llonlybeaproblemforthreemoredaysandIcandoanythingforthreedays.IfI
madeitanentireyearwithoutknowingifI’deverseeSamagain—orifshewereeven
alive—Icandothiswithoneeyeclosedandmyarmstiedbehindmyback.

Ipoundahandfulofalmondsfrommybackpack,willingmystomachtosettle,andwash

themdownwithanotherswigofwater.

BythetimeIhitchmyselftothezipline,I’mnearlybacktonormal.

Itaketheride,managingtoenjoytherushofthewindcoolingmyskinandthevibrant,

wild,alivesmellofthejunglerisinguparoundme.Attheendoftheline,Itrotdownthe
stepsandstartupthetrailtowardthewaterfall,knowingI’llhavetimetocatchthem
beforetheyleave.Idon’tfeellikeIneedarestanymore.Iwanttokeepmoving,keepmy
bloodpumpingandmybodyreadytorespondatamoment’snotice.I’mnotgoingto
think,I’mgoingtoactandtrustthatmygutwillleadmeintherightdirection.

Halfwayupthetrail,Ihearsoftvoicescomingfromoffthetrailaheadandslowdown.

It’samalevoiceandafemalevoice,buttooquietformetoplacewho’sspeaking.I’m
guessingthatmaybeit’sthehusbandandwifefromthegroup,takingaprivatemoment,
butwhenIgetavisualthroughtheleaves,IseeToddandtheblondgirl.

Ifreeze,mybootsmakingascratchingnoiseintheunderbrushasIstop,butneitherof

themseemstonotice.

Thegirlisleaningbackagainstawidetreetrunk,lookingupatToddwithamixtureof

horroranddisbeliefashesayssomethingIcan’tmakeout.Hisbackistomeandhehas
onearmbracedonthetreeabovethegirl’shead.Butit’shisotherhandthatattractsmy
attention.

Iwatchashereachesup,pinchingthegirl’snipplethroughhertanktopandtwisting

witharoughnessthatmakeshercryoutandcringeawayfromhim.Butheholdstight,
whisperingbeneathhisbreathuntilhercrybecomesanalmostinaudiblewhimper.

Idon’tknowwhathe’ssaidtoher,butwhateveritwas,itconvinceshertostandstilland

silentwhilehereachesahanduphershirtandpinchesheragain,thistime,skinonskin.
Shegrimacesandsqueezeshereyesshut,butdoesn’tfighthim.Idon’tknowwhyshe
doesn’tfight—therearepeoplecloseenoughtohearhercalloutandcometohelpher—
butshe’ssoyoungandToddisanexperiencedmonster.Makingavictimofaninnocent
kidisnodoubteasyforhim.Heprobablydidn’tevenhavetotry.

IfI’dseensomethinglikethisevenfifteenminutesago,Iwouldn’thavebeenableto

stopmyselffromrunningtohelpthegirl.ButI’mcoldernow,workingfromaplaceof
thought,notfeeling.

AndsoIwatchasToddshoveshershirtup,baringhersmallbreastsandthefaintbruises

alreadyformingonhernipples.Iwatchashepullshisdickoutandjerkshimselfofftothe
soundofthegirl’swhimpers,allwhileinflictingmorepainwithhisfreehand.Nearthe
end,hetwistshersensitivefleshsohardthatshefallstothegroundwithagutturalsound
ofpain.

Themomentherkneeshittheearth,hecomes,splashingthestickyfluidontooneofher

tear-streakedcheeks.

Everythingisquietforamomentafter,liketheforestisholdingitsbreathinsilent

disapprovalofwhat’shappened,andthenToddlaughs.

Helaughsandtossesanapkinfromhispocketontothegroundinfrontofthegirlashe

takesastepback.

“Cleanupandcomejointhegroup,”hesays.“Butgivemeaheadstart.Wedon’twant

tobeseentogether,dowe?Thenyourdadmightfigureoutwhataslutyouare.”

Ibarelyhavetimetocrouchdown,hidingbeneaththewide,greenleavesofoneofthe

giantfernsgrowingbesidethetrail,beforeToddturnsandstartstowardme.Heemerges
ontothetrail,notfivefeetfromwhereI’msquatting,butheturnstheotherway,strolling
backuptowardthewaterfalllikehedoesn’thaveacareintheworld.

Butthen,heprobablydoesn’t.

Hedoesn’thaveanyregrets,hedoesn’thaveaconscience,andtheworldwillbeamore

dangerousplaceaslongashe’sinit.

AsIwatchthegirlstumbleafterhimafewminuteslater,swipingthetearsfromher

cheeksandtighteningherponytailwithtremblinghands,IsilentlytellherI’msorry.I
shouldn’thavehadtoseewhatjusthappenedtoknowwhatneededtobedone,butIdid.
Andnowthereisnomoredoubtinmymind.

ButI’mnotgoingtodoithere.

IwaswrongaboutbeingonTodd’sradar—itwasthegirlhewasfocusedon—andhe

deservesworsethanaswift,relativelypainlessdeath.Hedeservestoknowexactlywhy
he’sbeingputdown,tohavetimetodreadwhat’scomingnext,andthentodieknowing
he’snotthebiggest,baddestmotherfuckerinthejungleandthathislifeisoverand
nothinghedidwasworthashit.

I’mgoingtogetthroughthistour,tellSamwhathappened,andletherknowInolonger

haveanychoiceaboutwhattodowithTodd.I’mgoingtokillhim.ForSam,forthatkid
whowasluredintothewoodsbyagood-lookingolderguyandendedupmeetingawolf
insteadofaprince,andforallthewomenToddwon’tlivetohurt.Heisadiseasethat
infectseverythinghetouchesandhehastobestopped.

Ihaven’tfeltcalledtodomanythingsinmylife—asidefromlovingSamandtaking

careofmycrazyfamily—butIfeelcalledtodothis.Thesensethatdestinyisonmyside
foroncefloodsthroughme,drawingmeevenmorefirmlytomycenter,focusingmy
thoughtsonwhatneedstobedone.

Ibacktrackdownthetrailandtaketheshortcut,meetingPaolaandtherestofthegroup

astheycomearoundtheloopandstarttowardthenextzipline.

“Youlookbetter,”shesays,chuckingmeonthearm.

“Ifeelbetter.”IsmileasToddwalksbyonherotherside,surroundedbyhisbrothers,all

ofthemlaughingastheygiveoneoftheguysshitforpissingonhisshoeswhenhewent
intothejunglenearthewaterfall.

AndIdofeelbetter.

BecauseIknowhewon’tbelaughingforlong.

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

Sam

“Atthemomentofcommitment

theentireuniverseconspirestoassistyou.”

-Goethe

DannyandIsitonthebeach,watchingthesunset,thestoryhe’sjustfinishedhoveringin

theairaroundus.

Ifeelitsettlingonmyskin,sinkingintomybones,washingawaythelastofmydoubt.

Finally,myconsciencerelaxesbackintotheshadowycornersithasinhabitedforthepast
yearwithawaveofitshand,givingitsblessingtomurder.

“Weneedtodecidehowtodoit,”Isay,stretchingmylegsoutonthewarm,powdery

sand.“Hissuiteisontheedgeoftheproperty.There’sachancenoonewouldheara
gunshot.”

“Butthere’sachancetheywould,”Dannysays.“Whataboutpoison?Icouldmakesure

he’saloneandbribeamaidtodeliverabottlelacedwithsomethingtohisroom.”

“Whatifhecallsforhelp?”

“Iforcemywayintothesuiteafterthemaidisgoneandmakesurehedoesn’t,”hesays.

“Idon’tmindsittingonhischestandmakingsurehestaysputuntilhe’sdead.”

Ishiverthoughthewindiswarmertonightthanlastnight.“Iknowthisisright,but…it’s

stillhard.Hearingyoutalklikethat.”

Hetakesmyhand,curlinghisfingersaroundmine.“YouknowwhatI’vebeenthinking

aboutalotlately?”

“What?”Iask,leaningmyheadonhisshoulder.

“Destiny.Fate.Whateveryouwanttocallit.Thingsthataremeanttobe.”Hepauses,

stretchinghislegsoutbesidemine,thecoarsehairsonhiscalvesbrushingagainstmy
smoothones.“ButIthinkdestinyisjustthewordpeoplegivetoadecisionthatcouldn’t
bemadeanyotherway.Youknow,thosemomentswhenthechoiceyou’remakingfeels
sobig,sotrue,thatit’salmostlikeit’scomingfromoutsideofyou.

“Butit’snot.It’sjustyou.Makingtherightchoice,theonlychoice.Soyouneverhave

toregretwhathappensnext,nomatterhowthingsshakeout.”

Isqueezehishand.“Iloveyou.”

“Iloveyou,too,”hesays.“Andaslongaswe’reactingfromthatplace,Ichooseto

believethateverythingisgoingtobeokay.”

Itiltmychin,glancinguptoseehimglowinginthesettingsun,hislonglashesandthe

hintofstubbleonhischinshiningwhitegold,makinghimlookmorelikeanangelcome
tospreadthegoodnewsthanamanwho’splanningamurder.Butthat’sbecausehe’s
tellingthetruth,weareactingfromaplaceoflove.

Loveforeachotherandforpeoplewhosegoodnessandinnocencemakethemeasy

targetsforthepredatorsoftheworld.

“YouknowwhatI’vebeenthinking?”Iwhisper,stillsoakinginthebeautyofhim,

wantingtorememberthewayhelooksrightnowfortherestofmylife.

“What?”Hisgazeisstillfixedonthehorizon,wherethedayisrapidlyslippingaway.

Thesunisrunningtowardtheothersideoftheworldwhereotherpeoplearesittingon
otherbeacheswaitingforittorise,waitingforthateternalsignthatthereislightattheend
ofthedarkness.

“Maybewe’reallmonsters.”Iturnmygazebacktothesea.“Butwecanchoosewhat

kindofmonsterwewanttobe.Thekindthattearsotherpeopleapartorthekindthat
fightstoprotectthethingswelove.”

Hegrunts.“Idon’tthinkwe’reallmonsters.Onlythebestandtheworstofus.Therest

aretoolazytocarethismuch.”

Ismile.“You’reprettysmartforaguywhograduatedwithaCaverage.”

“Idomybest,”hesayswithasoftlaugh.“Havetoatleasttrytokeepupwithyou.”

“Youdomorethankeepupwithme.Youmakemebetter.”

“Ditto.”Hebringsourjoinedhandstohismouth,pressinghislipstothebackofmy

hand.

Wesitinsilenceasthewavyredyolkofthesunslithersintothesea.Thesandbeginsto

coolandthepinklightfadestoamoodyblue,butstillwesitsidebyside,sayinggoodbye
towhowewere.

Butit’snotasadgoodbye.

Thepastisfullofbeautifulghosts,butit’shauntedbyuglierthings,too.I’mreadyto

moveforward,tomakethischoiceandneverlookback.

Danny

OnSunday,wefinalizeourplans,gathermaterialsandgeteverythinginplacefor

Tuesdaynight.OnMonday,wehikeintothejunglewiththerestoftheguidesandthe
friendsthey’vebroughtalongasguineapigsfortheirlasttrainingexercise,anovernight
tripwe’llspendcampingonasheerrockface.

TonightwasthenightI’dplannedtotakecareoftheSigmaBetaEpsilonbrotherswhenI

thoughtIwouldbetakingonallfourofthemalone.Instead,I’mherewithSam,andin
roughlythirty-sixhourswe’llbebackontracktothelifewealmostlost.

Wereachtheentrancetothecanyonbynoonandbytwoo’clockwe’vereachedthebase

ofthethreehundredmetercliffwherewe’llbespendingthenight.Paolaandtheother
guidestakepointongettingtheirfriendsreadyfortheclimb.Ishadowthem,makingsure
theyremembereverythingweworkedonandthenheadbacktoSam,whogreetsmewith
thatnew,serenesmileofhers.

AsIcheckherharness,makingsuretocopafeelwhileIdo,shelaughsandswatsmeon

theass.

Eversinceourtalkonthebeach,we’vebothbeenstrangelycalm.

Ormaybenotsostrangely.

Sometimes,thebuilduptoaharddecisionistheworstpart.Onceyou’vemadeupyour

mind,thestressfadesaway.I’msureitwillreturntomorrownightwhenourdecisions
becomeactions,butfornow,we’reatpeace.

Theclimbisintense,butamazing,grantingevermoremagnificentviewsaswecreep

abovethetreelineandthejunglestretchesoutbeneathus.Byfiveo’clock,we’retwo
hundredmetersintheair,settingupourledgesandtentsandpreparingtocookthestew
webroughtovertinypropanestoves.

SamandIsetupthetentwe’llshareonmyledge,butweleavehersbare.Afterour

dinneriswarmed,wesitontheedgeoftheclearplatformwithourlegshangingoverthe
vastemptiness,watchingthebirdsdartinginandoutofthecanopybelowlikedolphins
jumpingoutofoceanwaves.

Fromourrightandleftcomethesoftconversationsoffriends,Ramandhisbrother

arguingoverwhatkindofmeatisinthestew,Paolaandhergirlfriendlaughingabouttheir
lastcampingtripandthemonkeyswhostoletheirbreakfast,forcingthemtohikehome
hungrythenextday.

Whenwe’refinishedwithourstew,Itossaroundthebagofchocolatecoveredcoffee

beansIbroughtasatreat.Welaughaswechuckthepaperbagfromplatformtoplatform,
cussingRam’sbrotherwhenhenearlydropsitovertheedge.Whilethechocolatemelts
onourtongues,wetalkaboutalltheplaceswe’veworked,wherewe’dliketogonext,
andouradventurebucketlists.PaolawantstogotoIceland,RamhasatickettoFijiand
willbeleavingnextAugust,andSamtellsthemwe’reonourwaytoThailandforanon-
workingvacationbeforeweheadhome.

It’sabeautifulnightsharedwithgoodpeopleandwhenSamandIcrawlintoourtentnot

longafternightfall,Ifeelgrateful.If,Godforbid,somethinggoeshorriblywrong
tomorrow,wecouldn’thaveaskedforabetterlastnightoffreedom.

Wetiebacktheflapstothetentsowecanseethestarsfromoursleepingbagandhold

handsinthedark,listeningtothegetting-ready-for-sleepsoundscomingfromtheother
tents.Andwhentheteethbrushingisfinishedandthecallofnatureanswered—adiscreet
whizzovertheedgeoftheledgeforthemenandbottlesfilledinthetentanddumpedover

thesideforthewomen—andeveryoneelseisfinallyasleep,it’ssoquietitfeelslike
there’snooneelsealiveintheworld.

NoonebutSamandme,happilymaroonedonthistentpitchedattheedgeofnowhere.

“Whereishomenow,doyouthink?”shewhispers,hervoicehuskyinthedarkness.

“Whereverweare.Together.”IswearIcanhearhersmile.

“Wherearewegoingtobetogether?Ihaven’twantedtothinkaboutituntilthiswas

finished,butafterhearingeveryone’splansIstartedwonderingwherewe’llendup.And
whatI’lldowhenwegetthere.”

“IcouldhireyouonasmybusinessmanagerinCroatia.”Icurlmyarmaroundher

waist.“Ican’tpaymuch,butbenefitsincludehousing,food,andunlimitedoralsex
privileges.”

Shelaughssoftly.“Givingorreceiving?”

“Both.I’magenerousemployer.”

“Verygenerous,”shesays,fingerstrailingbackandforthacrossmychest,makingme

wishI’dtakenmyteeshirtoffsoIcouldfeelhertouchonmybareskin.“I’msuremy
stepmomwouldhelpmefindajobonMaui,butIdon’tknowifI’mreadytogoback
there.Idon’tknowwhatI’mgoingtosaytothemafterdisappearingforsolong.”

Mysmilefades.“Ithinkyouwererightbefore.Let’scrossthosebridgeswhenwecome

tothem.Nopointinborrowingworriesfromthefuturewhenthereareplentyheretogo
around.”

“Areyouworried?”sheasks,herpalmcomingtorestabovemyheart,whichbeatsslow

andsteady.

“No.Just…focused.Thefutureisn’tpushingonmethewayitdoessometimes.Iguessit

feelslikeitwilltakecareofitself.”

“Orit’salreadytakencareofitself,”shesays.“YouknowEinsteinsaidtheseparation

betweenthepast,present,andfutureisanillusion.Althoughaveryconvincingone.”

Ithinkonthatforamoment,staringupatthenightsky,seeingthelightthatleftthose

starsthousandsofyearsago.Someofthelightstwinklinginthedarkness,seemingsoset
intheirplaceinthesky,mightbedeadalready.I’mnotseeingwhatisbutwhatwas,a
long,longtimeago.It’sallamatterofperception.

Somaybethefutureisthesameway.

Maybeit’salreadythere,writtenoutonapageIcan’tseefromwhereIamnow.Or

maybeit’swaitingonwhatI’lldonext,theletterstremblingastheyprepareforthe
presenttomoldthestorytheywilltell.

“Soiftheseparationisanillusionandthey’reallexistingatonce,”Iask,brow

furrowing.“Doesthatmeanthatthepastcouldbeaschangeableasthefuture?”

“That’saniceidea,”shesays,herfingersresumingtheirhypnoticbrushbackandforth

acrossmychest.“Orascaryone,Iguess.Dependingonhowyoulookatit.WhatifI
changedthepastandnevermetyou?”

Thepossibilitybouncesoffofmymindwithoutmakinganimpression.MaybebeforeI

spottedSamintheairport,itwouldhavescaredme,butnowIknowbetterthantothink
anythingcankeepusapart.“Wouldneverhappen.I’veseenmypast,present,andfuture.
You’reinallofthem.Ifthere’sonethingIknowforsure,it’sthat.”

Sheleansin,kissingmycheek.“Romantic.”

“Guilty.”Iturn,findingherlipsinthedarkandgivingheraproperkiss,thekindofkiss

awomandeservesonanightliketonight.

Myhanddriftsfromherwaisttoherbreast,mythumbbrushingoverhernipplethrough

thefabricofhersportsbra.

“Weshouldn’t,”shewhispersevenassheshifts,grantingmebetteraccess.

“Weshould,”Isay.“Wewill.”

Itisn’teasygettingoutofourclotheswiththeharnessesstillinplace,butwemanage,

handsquietandcleverbecausetheyknowourfutureholdspleasure.Notbeingabletosee
hermakesherskinfeelevensofter,makingmehyper-awareofeachdipandhollow,each
lovelycurveandirresistibleinchofslick,wetflesh.

Sosweet.Sheissosweet.

Iburymytongueinsideherandtasteeternity.Timestandsstillandthereisonlythis,

onlyus.Onlyherfingerstangledinmyhairandherthighstremblingoneithersideofmy
faceandherbreathwhisperinginthedark.Itcomesfaster,deeper,andthenshecomes
withatinywhimper,carefulnottomakeasoundtheotherscanhear.ButIknowshe’s
tumblingover,Icantasteitintheclean,saltyrushofwetnessonmytongue,feelitinthe
wayherpussyplumpsbeneathmymouth,likefruit,fullandheavy,readytofallfromthe
tree.

Imoveoverher,kissingherwiththetasteofherstillinmymouth,wantinghertoknow

howsweetsheis.Ourtonguesdanceasherlegswraparoundmywaist,drawingmeinto
her.

Thistime,thereisnofumblinginthedark.Mybodyknowswheretogo.Ithasalways

knownbecauseIwasborntomakelovetothiswoman.

Isinkintoherwithonelongstroke,herbodypulsingaroundmycockasIburymyself

insideherheat,herlove.Iholdhercloserandrockintoher,everythrustapromisethat
thisisunshakable,thisiswhatshecancountonwheneverythingelseischaosand
insanity.

Thisispast,present,andfuture.Thisistruth.Thisiseverything.

Theclimbisslow,steady,spiralinghigherandhigheruntiltheairfeelstoothinand

there’snothingtobreathebutSam.Butsheisenough,morethanenough.Wekeep
climbing,clingingtoeachother,grindingcloser,deeper,untilthepleasureispainfuland
myentirebodyscreamswiththeneedforrelease.

AndthenSamliftsintome,herorgasmdemandingmyown,andtakesthepainawayand

thereisonlypleasuresopureandperfectthereisnoroomforanythingelse.

Icomewithoutasound,notwantingtosharethiswithanyonewhomightstillbeawake

andlistening.

Thisisonlyforus,formeandSam.

“Let’sgetmarried,”Iwhisperasweliefusedtogether,catchingourbreath.

“Ithoughtyoudidn’twanttothinkaboutthefuture.”Shewrapsherlegsaroundmy

waist,holdingmeinsideofher.

“That’snotthefuture,”Isay.“That’shereandnow.You’remineandI’myours.Wejust

needtomakeitofficial.”

“Iamyours,”shesayswithahappysigh.“Thatwas…soperfect.Ilovemakingloveto

you.Iwanttodoiteverydayfortherestofmylife.”Shesighsagain.“Exceptonthefirst
dayofmyperiod,whenI’mnotinthemood.”

Ilaugh,pressingakisstoherforehead.“Isthatayes?”

“Yes.”Shehugsmecloser.“ButIdon’twantabigdeal.Ijustwantittobeyouandme

insomeplacepretty.Maybeonaportaledgeonacliffsomewhereandthentheperson
whomarriesuscanclimbbackdownandwe’llspendthenightjustlikethis.”

“Soundsperfect.”

Wetalkalittlelonger,daydreamingoutloudthewayweusedtowhenwewereyounger,

imaginingallthethingswe’ddowhenweweregrownupandcouldfinallybetogetherall
thetime.Ineverimaginedourliveswouldendupthewaytheyhave,butIcan’tregretany
ofitrightnow,withSaminmyarmsandher“yes”stillringinginmyears.

Idon’trememberfallingasleep,butwhenIwakeupthestarsarefadingfromthesky

andthepalepinkdawniscreepingupfromtheothersideoftheworld.

Iliewatchingthelightconsumethelastofthenightsky,holdingSaminmyarms,

hopingthat,bythistimetomorrow,allthedarknesswillbegone.

CHAPTERNINETEEN

Sam

“Thereisstrongshadow

wherethereismuchlight.”

-Goethe

Whenyou’vebeenwaitingonsomethingforalong,longtime,andthenthemoment

you’vebeenanticipatingissuddenlyathand,itcanbehardtoknowwhattofeel.It’slike
theanticipationoftheeventhasbecomeitsownseparateentity,athingthat’shardtolet
goof.

Ihaveahardtimelettinggo.

Iwakeupinadazeandstaythereaswepackupcampandmakeourwaybackdownthe

cliff.

Todayistheday.TodayisthedaythatIwillhavemyrevenge.

TodayisthedaythattwomenwillsufferandonemanwilldieandthenIwillgetona

planeandflyawaywithnothingtoanticipatebuthowniceitwillbetoliveinaworld
withoutToddWinslowinit.

Allthewaythroughthejungle,mythoughtsarearecordstuckinasinglegroove,

repeatingthesamethingsoverandoveragain.Butitisn’tuntilDannyandIhavehugged
everyonegoodbyeandarebackinthecabin,packingupourthings,thatrealityfinally
settlesin.

Thefearhitsamomentlater.

Amomentafterthat,I’monthefloorwithmyheadbetweenmylegs,hyperventilating,

tryingmybestnottopassout.

“It’sokay.”Dannyrubsmybackinsoothingcircles.“Ithitmeaboutanhourago.Itwill

pass.Justgiveitasecond.Thinkaboutrightnowandnothingelseandyou’llbeokay.”

Ibringmythoughtstothismoment,tothewornwoodenfloorbeneathmyfeetandthe

lizardwhoslitheredunderthebedwhenIplunkeddownalittletooclosetohim.Ithink
aboutdrawingbreathintomybodyandlettingitoutandthefaintsmellofwoodsmoke
andmildewthatlingersinthecabin.Ithinkaboutthecrickinmyneckfromsleepingon
thetinycampingpillowandthemorepleasantachebetweenmylegsfrommakinglove.

Afterafewmorebreaths,Iliftmyheadandlookatmyhalf-filledbackpack.

Ineedtofinishpacking.That’swhatI’mdoingrightnow.I’mpacking.I’mnotdrugging

anyoneordumpingtheminapitinthemiddleofthejungle.I’mnotwatchingsomeone
convulseastheydiefromalethaldoseofarsenic.

IfIkeepimaginingwhat’sgoingtohappen,I’mgoingtolivethroughitahundredtimes

beforenightfallandIwon’thaveanyenergyleftfortheactualevent.Whenthetime
comes,Ihavetobestrong,solid,andfocused,notdrainedandfreakingout.I’vespenta
yeartrainingmybodytofacethemenwhohurtme,butonlynowdoIrealizeIshould
havebeentrainingmymindaswell.I’mbeginningtothinkthatinorderforamurderto
gooffwithoutahitch,themindisthemostimportantmuscleinvolved.

Luckily,minehasDannytohelpitstayontask.

AfterI’mfinishedpacking,hehandsmeadustragandabroomandleavesmetostart

cleaningupthecabinwhileherunsouttothemesshall.BythetimeI’mfinisheddusting
andsweeping,he’sbackwithaloafofbread,ajarofpeanutbutter,andafeworangeshe’s
liberatedfromthekitchenandputsmetoworkmakingsacklunchesforourdinnerwhile
hecleansthebathroom.

Becauseoneshouldn’tcommitmurderorkidnappingonanemptystomach.

Thethoughtinspiresasharp,hystericalburstoflaughter,butluckilyDannyisflushing

thetoiletanddoesn’thearme.

That’sgood.Idon’twanthimtobeworriedaboutme.I’mreadyforthisandaslongasI

keepbusyI’mnotgoingtohaveabreakdown.

Weleavethecommunejustafterthreeo’clock,allegedlyonourwaytoaromantic

dinnerinthenexttownover.Thedinnerisourexcuseforbeggingofffromanightonthe
townwithPaolaandtherestoftheguidestocelebrateourlastnightinCostaRica.

AsDannydrives,IletmyselfimaginewhatitwouldbeliketobetheSamtheythinkI

am,awomanwithoutacareintheworldbutwhatexoticlocationsheandherboyfriend
areontheirwaytonext.IimaginethatSam,drinkingbeersbythebeachwithhernew
friendsandthengettingtalkedintodancingatthetinyclubintown,wigglingtoperky
technomusicthatneverseemstomakeitontotheairwavesinthestates.

It’ssorealIcanalmostseeit.

SorealthatIthinkmaybethatSamdoesexistsomewhere,inaparalleluniversewhereI

wasn’tshatteredandputbacktogetherwithsharperedgesthanIhadbefore.

Butherworldisn’tmyworld,andbythetimewereachtherentalhouseandparkthecar

inthegarage,I’mcomingfullyonlineforthefirsttimeallday.AsDannyandIpullonour
gloves—we’renotgoingtoleaveanyprintsbehind—anddoaquickcheckofthehouse
andthesurroundingareas,ensuringthehouseacrossthestreetisstillunoccupiedandno
onewillbewatchingourguestspullinlatertonight,mybloodrushesfasterandmysenses
sharpen.IfeellikeIusedtorightbeforeavolleyballgameinhighschool,afterourcoach
haddeliveredthepeptalkandwewerejustwaitingtorunoutontothecourt.

Everythingisready,nowit’sjustamatterofstickingtothegameplanandfollowing

through.

“I’mgoingtotellRosatotextmeifshehasanytroublegettingJ.D.andJeremyoutof

thehotel,”Dannysaysafterwe’veeachforceddownhalfasandwichandsomewater.“If
Idon’thearfromherwithintenminutesofdroppingheroff,I’llbeonmywaybackhere.
I’lltextyoubeforeIheadout.”

Iforcemyselftoexhaleslowly.“I’llbeready.Becareful.”

“Iwill.”Hewatchesmeforabeat,beforeheadds,“Thisisit.Lastchancetobowout.I

canhandleitaloneifyouneedmeto.”

Ishakemyhead.“No.I’mnervous,butIwanttobeapartofit.Ineedtobeapartofit.”

“Okay.”Hesqueezesmyhand.“It’salmostover.Justkeeprememberingthat.It’salmost

behindus.”

“Loveyou.”Ileaninforakiss,whichhereturns,firmly,butsweetly,andthenhe’s

gone.

Afterheleaves,Ichangeintomyblacksinthegarageandpullmyhairbackintoabun

I’lltuckundermysockmaskwhenthetimecomes.Iscantheconcreteforhairsandtuck
thefewIfindintothepocketofmyblackjeans,determinednottoleaveanyDNA
evidencebehind.

Last,Icheckthelockonthefrontdoortomakesureit’sopen,turntheradiooninthe

livingroomsoitsoundslikethere’sapartyinthehouse,andgettheketamineinjections
readytogo.

ItseemslikeonlyafewminuteshavepassedwhenDannytextsmethatoperationRosa

wasasuccessandhe’sonhiswayback.

Alldaylong,timehasbeendragging,butnoweverythingspeedsupuntilitfeelslikethe

futureisabullettrainbearingdownonmeandthere’snotimetogetoffthetracks.ButI
don’twanttojumptosafety.I’mgoingtostandandfacethefuture.

Becausethepastdemandsit.

BecauseonNewYear’sEveayearandahalfago,fourboyssetthisseriesofeventsin

motion.TheycreatedthemonsterIamnow,andtonight,theyaregoingtoreapwhatthey
havesown.

Tenminuteslater,Ihearthecarpullintothegarageandthegaragedoorhumming

closed.Amomentlater,Dannyhurriesintothefoyer,analuminumbaseballbatinone
handandoursockmasksintheother.“They’renotfarbehindme.Weshouldgetready.
Remember,mostimportantthingisthatwegetthedoorclosedbehindthembeforewe
makeamove.”

Inod.“I’lltakecareofRosaandthencomehelpyouifyouneedit.”

“Allright,”hesays,pullingthesockmaskon,makinghislipslookfullerandpinkerin

contrastwiththeroughfabriccoveringtherestofhisface.“ButIthinkI’llbeokay.They
shouldbetoostunnedtofightbackwhileI’mgivingtheinjection.Ijusthavetobesure

nottohitthemtoohard.”

Islipthemaskovermyfaceandtuckmyhairunderneath.WhenIopenmyeyesagain,

I’mseeingDannythroughframesofblackcottonandtherealityofthemomenthitshard
enoughtomakemeflinch.

It’shere.We’rereadyandthereisnoturningback.

“Seeyouontheotherside,”hesayssoftly.

“Ontheotherside.”

HereachesoutahandandItakeit,squeezinghisfingersbetweenmine,drawing

strengthfromhistouch,hispresence.Tonight,Iamnotalone.TonightIhavetheupper
handandJ.D.andJeremyaregoingtolearnwhatitfeelsliketobepowerlessand
terrified.

Outside,thesoundofacarpullingintothedrivewayrumblesthroughthenightair

beforeitfallssilent.Acardoorslamsandamomentlater,IhearRosa’slaughandher
lightlyaccentedvoicetellingthementhattherestofthepartyisinside.Myhandslips
fromDanny’sasImovebackintotheshadowsbehindthedoorandhetakeshisplace
aroundthecorner,hiddenfromviewinthehallleadingintothekitchen.

Anysecond,themenIcameheretopunishwillbewalkingthroughthedoor.

Theknowledgefillsmymouthwithabitter,acridtaste.Myheartracesandmynerve

endingsfeellikethey’recatchingfire,butatthecenterofthestorm,thereisacalmplace
thatfearandpaniccan’ttouch.AndfromthatcalmplaceIreachintomyownmind,doing
whatIhavetodo.

Itakeadeepbreathandletgo,pullingbackthecallousedskinthatprotectedmeforso

manymonths,flingingopenmentaldoorsI’velearnedtokeeplockedtight.Thesearethe
roomswherethehorrorlives,wherethereisnothingbutbloodandpainandthesoundsof
myownscreams.Buttonight,thesememorieswon’tbringmenightmaresorleaveme
sweatingandshakinginmybed,relivingeveryhelplessmomentuntilIdon’tknowifI’ll
livetoseemorning.

Tonight,theywillbringmestrength.

Asthedoorknobbeginstoturn,timeslowstoacrawlandIgoback.

Backtothepooltable’sroughfeltbeneathmycheek,backtothesmellofsourbeerand

whiskeybreathandthesweatofunfamiliarmalebodiesdrippingontomyface.Igoback
toJ.D.’shandsshovingmedownontothetableandrippingmyjeansdownmylegswhile
IkickedandscreamedandToddandJeremyeggedhimon.

HewasthefirstandIwasstillfightinghard.J.D.isn’tmuchtallerthanIamormuch

bigger.TherewasachanceIcouldhavefoughthimoffifJeremyhadn’tcrawleduponthe
tableandgrabbedmywrists,pinningthemtothefeltashetrappedmyheadbetweenhis
thighsandsqueezed,holdingmeinavicegripbetweenhislegsasJ.D.forcedhimself
insideme,tearingmeapart.

IhadneverbeenwithanyonebutDanny,hadneverknownanypainassociatedwithsex

exceptthatslightstingandachethenightDannyandIwereeachother’sfirst.Hehad

alwaysbeencarefulwithme,alwaystakenthetimetobesureIwasready.

J.D.didn’ttaketime;hetookmydignity.

Hetooksomethingthatshouldonlyeverbeaboutpleasureandgavemepainand

degradation.HeshowedmethatIwasnothingtohim.Iwasnothumanorevenanimal.I
wasanobjectunworthyofkindnessorcompassion.Iwassomethingtobeusedtomake
himfeelpowerfulandthenpassedaroundtohisfriends.

Now,hewillpay.

Now,heandJeremywilllearnwhatitfeelsliketobenothing.

IwatchRosaswinginside,wearingatinyreddressandstilettoheels,inslowmotion.

MybloodisrushingsoloudinmyearsIcan’tmakesenseofwhatshe’ssayingtoJ.D.and
Jeremyorwhattheysayinreturn.Idon’tfeellikemyselfanymore.Iamnothingbutrage
sohugethatitfeelslikemysoulisexpandingpasttheconfinesofmybodyuntilitfillsthe
room,shattersthewindows,explodesintothenightskyleavingatrailoffirebehind.

AndthenJeremyandJ.D.comethroughthedoorandeverythinghappensatonce.

DannycomesoutswingingandJeremyfallsalmostimmediately,thethunkofthebat

connectingwithhisskullfollowedcloselybythesoundofhisbodycrumplingtothefloor.
J.D.turnstorun,butI’vealreadykickedthedoorclosed.Inmyperipheralvision,Isee
Danny’sbatswingingthroughtheairasIreachforRosa.She’sunsteadyinherheelsand
fallsintomeasIwrapmyarmaroundherneckandsqueeze,applyingpressuretoher
carotidarteries.

I’veneverusedfullforcebefore—sparringonthematsatthegymweweretaughtto

holdbacktokeepfromknockingourpartnerunconscious—andI’mshockedathow
quicklyshegoeslimpinmyarms.

Ittakesmaybeseven,eightsecondsatmostandthenI’mguidinghercarefullytothe

floor.ItakeamomenttolookupandseethatJ.D.andJeremyareflatontheirbacksand
DannyisalreadyjabbinganeedleintoJeremy’sthigh,beforeturningbacktoRosa.I
injectherwithamuchsmallerdoseofketamineasgentlyasIcan,notwantingtocause
heranymorepain,evenifsheisunconscious,andthensitbackonmyheels.Danny
finishesdeliveringJ.D.’sinjectionandlooksup,meetingmygazeacrossthebodies
litteringthefloor.

We’rebothstillforamoment,catchingourbreath,andthenDannyreachesdown,grabs

thecarkeysfromwherethey’vefallen,andtossesthemmyway.

Icatchthemwithasteadyhand.

“I’llgetthesetwointothetrunk,”hesays.“Youwanttopulltheircaroutofthe

drivewaysoIcangetout?”

Inod,lovinghimevenmoreforknowingIneedtokeepthisallbusiness.There’sno

timeforapost-mortemabouttheeventsoftonightuntilafterit’sallover.

Andmaybenoteventhen.

Maybethisisoneofthosethingsthatwe’llputtobedandneverspeakofagain,likethe

timeIkissedanotherboyatagraduationparty,orlastsummerwhenDannygotdrunkand
saidhurtfulthingsthatcouldruinusifwegavethosememoriestoomuchairandsunlight.

Somethingsaremeanttobelockedawayinthedarkandstarvedofattentionuntilthey

allbutdisappear.

Butbeforewecanlockthemaway,wehavetoseethisthrough.

Istand.“I’llgetRosatakencareofandmeetyouatthesite.”

“Allright,”hesays.“Doyouneedmetocomebackinandhelpyougetherintothe

trunk?”

“Nope,”Isay.“She’slightandit’sbetterforyoutogo.Wedon’twantthosetwowaking

upbeforeyougetoutoftown.I’lltextyouafterI’vedroppedheroff.Ifyoudon’thear
frommeinthirtyminutes,startwithoutme.”

“I’mnotstartingwithoutyou,”hesays,kneelingandpickingupJ.D.withasoftgrunt.

“Iftherearepeopleoutsideherapartment,leaveheronthestreetsomewhereandcall911
toletthecopsknowwheresheis.Theemergencynumberisthesamehereasitisinthe
states.”

“I’mnotgoingtoleaveherunconsciousonthestreet,”Isay,knowingwhatcanhappen

towomenwhoareleftaloneanddefenselessevenforafewminutes.“I’llgetherinside
herbuilding,andintoherapartmentifIcanfigureoutwhichishers,andI’llgettoyouas
fastasIcan.”

Witharesignedsigh,DannycarriesJ.D.intothegarage.Ipulltheirrentalcarouttothe

streetandheadbackinside.WhileDannyloadsJeremyintothetrunkbesideJ.D.,Ihustle
intothelivingroomandturnoffthemusicbeforegrabbingthebleachspraywebought
andmoppingupthebloodsmearedacrossthefloornearJeremy’shead.J.D.andRosa
didn’tmakeamesssoallthat’slefttodoislockupandgetRosaloadedintothetrunk.

AsIwalkbacktothecurbtofetchthecar,Dannyisalreadybackingdownthedrive.He

pullsoutintothestreetandshiftsgears,headingoffintothenightwithoutanyparting
wordsouthisopenwindow.

IknowhethinksI’mtakinganunnecessaryriskwithRosa,butIhavetomakesureshe’s

safe.

Myrevengewillnotclaimanyinnocentlives.AndRosaisinnocent,nomatterwhat

kindoflifeshe’schosentolead.Nowoman,virginorwhoreoranythinginbetween,
deservestohaveherautonomytakenaway.Ourbodiesbelongtousandtheyareall
equallyvaluableandsacred.I’veusedRosa,butIwon’tabuseher,orleavehervulnerable
toanyoneelse’sabuse.

Carefully,Icarryherintothegarageandtuckherintothetrunk.She’sbreathingeasy,

butImakesuretolayheronherside.Ireadthatsomepeoplecanhavetroublebreathing
afteraketamineinjectionandit’sbettertobesafethansorry.Ileavethekeyinthedrop
boxbythefrontdoorwheretherentalagreementsaidtoleaveitandgetbackinthecar.
Noonewillbebytocheckonthehouseuntilaftercheckouttimeattentomorrow
morning,andnoonewillbeabletosaythatDannyandIdidn’tspendthenighthere.

Everythingisgoingsosmoothly,betterthanIcouldhaveimagined.

IarriveatRosa’sapartmenttofindthestreetdesertedexceptforacoupleofbums

diggingthroughthetrashattheendoftheblock.Ipullthecaruptothecurb,cutthe
engine,andwait.Ittakesagoodtwentyminutes,butfinallythehomelessmenturnthe
corner,andImakemymove.

Ipopthetrunkandswingoutintothewarmnight.I’veremovedmymask,butmyblack

long-sleevedshirtandjeansarestilltoowarmforthetropicalclimate.I’msweatingeven
beforeIliftRosaoutofthecar.BythetimeIgetusbothupthestepsandtheapartment
building’sstickyfrontdoorunlocked,beadsofperspirationarerollingdownmyface.

OnelandsonRosa’scheekasIlayheronthestainedcouchinthelobby.Sheflinches

beforelettingoutalowmoan.

Consideringhersize,sheshouldn’tbeconsciousforanotherhourortwoatleast,but

apparentlyRosahasonehellofametabolismandisalreadyburningthroughthemedslike
achamp.ShemoansagainandIlaunchintomotion.

Heartpounding,Iquicklywipethesweatfromhercheekwithmysleeve,placeherkeys

intohercurledfingers,andheadforthedoor.Iforcemyselftowalktothecar,knowing
thatrunningattractsattention.ButIshouldn’thaveworried.Thereisnoonetoseemerun,
andnoonetowatchasIgetbackintothecarandpullaway.

Imakeitthroughtownwithoutincident,shootingDannyatextthatI’monmyway

whilestoppedatalightnearthecentralmarket.

Hisresponsecomesthroughasecondlater.Seeyousoon,doll.

Doll.Theunexpectedpetnamemakesmefrown.

I’malotsmallerthanDanny,butaftercarryinganotherwomanupaflightofstairsI’m

notfeelingdelicateordoll-like.Itbothersmeforanotherreason,too.I’mnotsurewhatit
is,butIeventuallydismissthegnawingatthebackofmybrain,knowingIneedtostay
focusedonmoreimportantthings.

BythetimeIreachthegravelroadandturnright,headingupintoanisolatedstretchof

junglenotfarfromtheairstripwhereIbroughtDannyfortargetpractice,I’mfeeling
prettyconfident.Ifthesecondhalfofthenightgoesassmoothlyasthefirst,we’llbeat
theairportearlyenoughtograbbreakfastintheterminalbeforeweboardourflightto
Samui,Thailand.

I’mconfident,butnotcocky.

I’veneverbeencocky,evenbackbeforetheattack,whenIwasanathletewhohadnever

metaballshecouldn’tspikeorawaveshecouldn’tride.

I’vealwaysknownthatIhavemyfaultsandweaknesses.I’vealwaysbeenhonestwith

myself,andIbelievethathonestymademebetter.

Whilemyteammatesinhighschoolwerebusyblamingalostgameonsomeoneelse’s

performance,IwaswatchingvideoofthematchandseeingwhereIcouldimprove.When
othersurferssaidtheyneededadifferentboardorcleanerwaves,Ikeptpaddlingbackout
untilIfoundawaytoworkwithwhatevertheoceanwasgivingmeonaparticularday.

Idon’tsufferfromhubris,thatoverabundanceofpridethatdoomedsomanyGreek

heroestotragicfates.Idon’tflytooclosetothesun,Idon’tbelieveIcantakeonasix-
headedseamonsterandcomeoutontop.

SowhenIpullintotheclearing,wheretheholeDannyandIdugintheforestflooris

waiting,toseetherentalcar’strunkopen,thedriver’sdoorajar,andtheheadlightscasting
eerieshadowsacrossthemouthofthepit,Idon’tassumethereisareasonable
explanation.Iparknearthetrees,agoodhundredfeetfromtheothercarandmakeaslittle
noiseaspossiblegettingout.Ican’tseeifJ.D.andJeremyareinthetrunkorthepit,but
thereisnosignofDannyanywherenearbyandthejungleisweirdlyquiet.

Iresisttheurgetocallhisname,notwantingtoletanyoneknowI’mhereiftheyhaven’t

heardthecarpullup.

Earsstrainingandmyskincrawlingwiththecertaintythatsomethinghasgonehorribly

wrong,Ireachintothebackseat,openmybackpack,andpullouttherifle.Dannywanted
metoleaveitburiedinthewoodsbehindthecabin,butIrefusedtogetridofituntilafter
allouraffairswereinorder.Now,itgivesmecomforttohaveaweapon,stillassembled
andreadytouse.

Scanningtheclearing,Idon’tseeanyonewatchingme,butIcan’tknowforsure.Still,it

seemslikeagoodideatocheckthecar.Hunchingoveratthewaist,Icreepslowlythrough
theshadows,feelingexposeduntilI’msquattingdownbesidetheopendoor.

Aquickglanceinsiderevealsnothingthatwouldmakemeworry.

Thekeysareinthedriver’sseat,butDannymighthaveleftthemthere,knowingnoone

wouldbearoundtosnatchthem.Ilookintothebackseat,seeinghisbatlyingonthefloor.
Butthatstilldoesn’tmeananything.WithJ.D.andJeremydrugged,heprobablywouldn’t
havethoughtheneededit.

Still…

Itucktheguninthebackofmyjeans—gratefulforitscompactsize—andreachbehind

theseatstograbthebat.We’reagoodthreemilesfromtheroad,farenoughnoonewill
hearJ.D.andJeremyscream,butmaybenotsofarthatthesoundofagunshotwouldn’t
carry.Justincase,thebatisabetterweaponifIcangetawaywithit.

Grippingthecoolaluminumtight,Icirclearoundtotheopentrunkandpeekinside.J.D.

andJeremyaren’tthere.I’mguessingthatmeansthey’reinthepit,butforsomereason
I’mscaredtogolook.I’msuddenlypossessedbytheunreasonablefearthatifIstandat
theedgesomeonewillpushmein.

Ormaybeit’snotsuchanunreasonablefear.

There’sachancethebrothershaveescaped.Theymighthavewokenuptoofast,like

Rosa,caughtDannybysurprise,andbeatenhimunconsciousbeforeheadingbackto
civilization.Hemightbeoutthereinthejungle,bleedingtodeathunderatree
somewhere,andifso,Icanblamemyselfforit.

Blamemyself,andmyneedforvengeance.

Therewasachoicetobemade,likeDannysaid,andI’vemadethewrongone.Ishould

neverhaveputhimindanger.IshouldhavekidnappedhimifIhadtoandmadehimrun
awaywithme.Onlynow,asIrealizerevengemightcostmethemanIlove,doIrealize
thatitisn’tworthit.

Yes,thesemendeservetobepunished,butloveismoreimportant.It’smoreimportant

thanthelawthatinsiststhebrothers’fatesbelonginthehandsofthecourt,butit’salso
moreimportantthanvengeance.Itisbiggerthanthis,biggerthanthehurtandthepainand
thehate.IfeelthattruthshudderthroughmybonesasIstartbacktowardthedarknessat
theedgeoftheclearing.

Slowly,squeezingthebathardenoughtomakemyknucklesache,Icreeparoundthe

perimeterofthebareearthwiththepitatitscenter,keepingclosetothetrees,scanningthe
areaforanysignoflife.Imovequietly,carefully,thebatcockedovermyshoulder,ready
tostrikethesecondIhaveatarget.Ichecktheclearingandtheshadowsbeneaththetrees,
justincasethereissomeonehidinginthewoods.

Everysenseinmybodyisonhighalert,myearsstrainingforanysoundthatcan’tbe

explainedawaybythewindorsomenightcreaturestirringinthebrush.Iamsofocused
thatIwouldswearIhearthealmostinaudiblehumofthebuglanternsbeforeIseethem.
AndIcertainlyseethelanterns—andthescenetheyilluminate—longbeforeToddsees
me,butitdoesn’tmatter.

Anditdoesn’tmatterthatIknowIcouldtakeToddoutwiththisbatifIhadto,notwhen

ToddhasaknifepressedtoDanny’sthroat.

CHAPTERTWENTY

Danny

“Choosewell.

Yourchoiceisbrief,

Andyetendless.”

-Goethe

ItrytocallouttoSam,butToddwedgestheknifetightertomythroat,transformingmy

wordsintoagutturalcry.

He’sgoingtokillme.

Iknewitthemomenthesteppedupbehindmeattheedgeofthepitandpressedthe

knifeintomybackhardenoughtoripaholethroughmyshirtandbreaktheskin.I’mnot
leavingCostaRicaalive,butSamstillcan,ifIcanjustgetthewordsout.Ihavetotellher
torun,togettothecaranddriveawayasfastasshecan.

Ichosethis.Iknewtherewererisks,butImadethischoiceanyway.Ihopeshewon’t

blameherselfordoubtthatIloveherasmuchasIeverdid.

BecauseIdo.Somuch.

EvenafterI’mgone.

IcanhandledyingaslongasIknowshe’sokay.ButIcan’tgooutknowingshe’salone

inthejunglewithTodd,thatI’vefailedtoprotecther,andhe’sgoingtohurtherallover
again.

“Putthebatdown,doll,”hesays.“OrIstartcuttingoffpiecesofyourboyfriend.”

“I’mnotyourdoll.”Sam’sbreathrushesout,butshedoesn’tdropthebat.Shetakesa

stepclosertothestumpwhereToddhasmeseatedinfrontofhim,withmybodyshielding
hisandhisknifepressedtomythroat.

Evenifheletmego,there’snowayIcouldrun.Mylegsareboundandmyarmstiedin

frontofmefromwriststoelbowswithmyownrope.IhadjustfinishedtyingJ.D.and
Jeremy’sarmstogetherandrolledthemintothepitwhenToddcameoutofnowhere.I
didn’thearacarengineorfootstepsoranything.Hejustmaterializedoutofthinair,like
anevilgenie,cometopreventwishesfromcomingtrue.

“Doitnow,”Toddsaysagain,stillinthatcalmvoicethatmakesitclearheknowshe’s

won.“YouknowIdon’tbluff.Youtakeonemorestepwiththatbatandhelosesanear.I
sawthedentsinJeremy’shead.Idon’tneedamatchingset.”

Samstops,swayingonherfeetforamomentbeforeshecrouchesdown,layingthebatin

thedirt.“There.It’sdown.Nowlethimgo.”

Toddchuckles.“Takefivestepstoyourrightandsitdownagainstthattree.”

Sam’seyesmeetmineandIshakemyhead.ThemovementendsinagroanasTodd’s

knifeslicestheskinatmythroat,butitwillbeworthitifSamwillrun.

Please,Sam,Ibegwithmyeyes.Please,run.Run!

“Stop,”shesays,voicebreaking.“Don’thurthim.I’mgoing.”

“Run,”Igasp.“Run!”

Toddsilencesmebywrappinghisfreehandaroundmyneckandsqueezinguntilthe

worldgoesblackaroundtheedges.Ibuckagainsthishold,butinthispositionIcan’tget
anyleverage.AllIcandoisarchmyback,flexthemusclesinmythroat,andfighttokeep
himfromcrushingmywindpipe.IfightbackasbestIcan,butbythetimehereleasesme,
I’mdizzyandweak,withblackspotsdancinginfrontofmyeyesandbloodthudding
heavilyinmyears.

“Nexttimeyoutalk,youdie,”hewhispersintomyear,hislipsmovingagainstthe

sweat-slickedskinofmycheek,makingmeshudder.

Hiswhisperismoreconvincingthanascream.

Heisn’tmakingathreattoscareSam.Samprobablycouldn’tevenhearhim.Hewas

makingmeapromise,oneIknowhe’llkeepifIopenmymouthagain.

Swallowinghard,IlookuptofindSamseatedagainstthetree,herlegsdrawntoher

chest.She’sinanuprightfetalposition,armsclenchedtightaroundherlegs,butIcanstill
seehershaking.Herentirebodyseemstovibrate,makingthecurlsthathaveescapedher
bundancearoundherhead.Hereyesarewideandshelooksterrified,butIknowher
betterthanthat.

Samdoesn’tshakelikethatwhenshe’sscared.

Sheonlyshakesthathardwhenshe’sangry.

Itrytotakecomfortinthefactthatshe’sgoingtofightback,butI’mtoodamnedsickto

mystomach.Idon’twanttodielikethis.Idon’twanthertobeforcedtowatch.AndI
sureashelldon’twanthertodie.

IwanttomarryheronabeachinThailand.IwanttotakeherhometoCroatiaand

celebratewithmyfamily.Iwanttowatchherhairgrowouttoitsoldbeautifulbrownwith
theredstreaksinitandthejoyreturntohereyes.Iwantthehappinessandthetimeand
theloveandthechildrenandthelifethatthismonsterandhisfriendshavedonetheirbest
toruin.

Idon’twanteviltowinanotherroundandstealallofitawaybeforeoursecondchance

hasevengottenstarted.

“Sowhathappensnext?”Samasks,hervoiceroughwithemotion.“Whatdoyouwant?”

“Iwanttoshowyouwhathappenstopeoplewhofuckwithmeandmyfriends,”Todd

says,thenaddswithalaugh,“I’mkidding.Idon’tgiveashitaboutScottendingupinjail

orJ.D.andJeremybeingburiedalive.Orwhateveritwasyouhadplannedbacktherewith
thatholeintheground.Peoplestupidenoughtodroptheirguarddeservewhattheyget.

“ButIknowIwouldhavebeennext,Sammy,andthatisn’tokay.”Hepauses,teasingthe

knifeupanddownmythroat.“Howdidyouplantodoit?Stranglemeinmybedafter
youwerefinishedfillinginthathole?”

“Poison,”Samsaysflatly.“Weweregoingtobribeamaidtobringyouanightcap,then

breakintoyourroomandwatchyoudie.”

Toddmakesaconsideringnoise.“Notabadplan,butpoisoniskindofagirlychoice,

don’tyouthink?Weak,especiallyforabigguylikeyou,DanielCooney.”

Hereachesaround,hittingmeinthestomachhardenoughtomakemegroanandleaving

hisfistpressedtighttomygut,makingithurttobreathe.“Ithoughtyoulookedfamiliar
thatdayatthepool,butwhenIsawyouthesecondtimeeverythingclicked.That’swhenI
knewIhadtostartwatchingmyback,andtheotheridiots,too.Ifiguredyouwere
responsibleforpoor,dumbScottandthattherestofusmustbeonyourhitlist.”

Thefisthe’sdiggingintomymid-sectionrelaxes,hisfingersuncurlinguntilhispalm

restslightlyonmyabdomen.

Buthistouchisnolessterrifyinginitsgentleness.

Ifanything,thebriefbreakinthecrueltyisworse,theknowledgethatthereprievewon’t

lastforlongmakingmyachingstomachfeellikeit’sturninginsideout.

“WhenIsawJeremyandJ.D.headingfortheparkinglotwiththathotlittlethinginthe

reddress,IknewDannyhadsomethingtodowithit.”Hishandmovesinacircle,
caressingmygurglingbelly,makingmeshudder.“Theydon’thavethecreativityto
convinceagirltofuckthembothatthesametime,nomatterhowmuchthey’vebeen
wantinganexcusetogettheircocksoutinthesameroomagain.SoIfollowedthemand
thenIfollowedyou,Danny.Ididn’trealizeyouwereheretoo,Sam,untilyoucameoutof
thehouse,butI’mnotsurprised.Youtwohavedoneeverythingtogether,haven’tyou?
Sinceyouwerekids?”

Samdoesn’tofferananswer,butToddobviouslydoesn’tneedone.He’sperfectlyhappy

listeningtothesoundofhisownvoice.

Heturnstomeandsighs,thefeelofhisbreathhotonmynecksendingafreshwaveof

dreadshiveringacrossmyskin.“Andnowhereweallare,readytolearnsomeimportant
lessonsfromeachother.Iamgoingtolearnnevertoleavesomeonealivewhoshouldbe
dead,andyouaregoingtolearnhowstupidyouweretofuckwithsomeonemeanerand
smarterthanyouare.”

Samclapsherhandstogether,slowlyanddeliberately,drawingTodd’sattentionbackto

her.“That’sarealherostory,Todd.Soyou’rethebigwinner.Whatareyougoingtodo
now,gorapesomegirlsinDisneyWorld?”

Theknifeleavesmyneck,butTodd’shandreplacesit,squeezingtight.“No,Sam.Iwas

thinking,sinceyouandDannylovetoshareexperiencessomuch,thatI’dfuckhisass
whileyouwatch.Thatsoundslikefun,doesn’tit?”

IhavetimetoseeSam’sfacegowhiteandthenTodd’spalmhitshardbetweenmy

shoulderblades.

Withmyarmsandlegsbound,Ican’tkeepmybalance.Ifallforward,myfaceinthedirt

andmyassintheair.

Bilepushingupmythroat,Itrytocrawlaway,butToddisalreadybehindme,cutting

throughthewaistbandofmyjeans.Thereisanuglyrippingsoundasthefabricgives
beneathhisjerkinghandsandthenmyboxersaredownaroundmythighsandTodd’s
knifeispressingintomystomach.

“Don’ttakeastepawayfromthattree,”Toddbarks.“Youdoandhisintestineswillbe

onthegroundbeforeyoucantakeanotherone.”

“Pleasedon’t,”Sambegs.“Pleasedon’thurthim.Please!”

“Buthurting’sthefunpart.”

Ifeelhimtuggingathisclothesbehindmeandthenhiserectionbobsfree,fallingheavy

andthickagainstmyasscheek,anditfeelssowrongIcan’tcontrolmyresponse.

Ilurchforward,instinctivelytryingtoescape,buthetiltstheblade,jabbingitintothe

thinskinbelowmynavel,piercingtheskin,summoningastreamofbloodthatrushes
downmythigh.

White-hotpainfollowsasecondlater,makingmescream.

ThepainisbadenoughtostopmecoldandsuddenlyIamawareofahundredthingsall

atonce.

I’mawareofthebreezestirringmyhair,oftheheavyleavesslappingagainstthetrunk

ofthetree,ofSam’storturedcryasToddadjustshimselfbehindme,andthemoans
comingfromthepitasJ.D.andJeremybegintowakeup.I’mawareofthebloodcoursing
throughmyveinsandtheterrorscreaminginmyheadandasoftervoicedeepinsidethat
insistsIcansurvivethis.

Icansurviveandwhenit’sover,Todd’sguardwillbedown.

Notevenamonstercanfightbackinthemiddleofcominghisbrainsout.

Igritmyteethandplanwhathappensnext.IimaginethewayI’mgoingtowaituntilhe

reachestheendandthenhurlmybodybackward,pushingwithmylegsuntilhe’spinned
tothedirtwiththeairknockedoutofhim.Maybetheknifewillflyoutofhishand.But
evenifhekeepsit,thatmomentofsurprisewillbeenoughforSamtoturnthetableson
him.BythetimeIrollaway,she’llhavethebaseballbatinherhands,beatingtheshitout
ofhim.

Iknowitwillhappen.IcanseeitasclearlyasIcanseeanything.

It’sasclearasmymemoriesofmakinglovetoSamlastnightunderthestars,oftheway

shelooksrunningoutoftheoceanwithherhairslickedbackandhercheekspinkfromthe
sun,ofthewayshesmiledatmethedayItoldherIlovedherforthefirsttime.Iwasonly
akid,butIknewthenthatIwoulddoanythingforher.

Iwoulddoanything.

Anything.

AsToddspreadsmycheeksandputstheheadofhiscockagainstme,Iknowit’sgoing

tohurt,buttheworstpartisknowingthatSamiswatching,andhearinghersoblikeher
heartisbreaking.IknowifIletmyself,Icouldcrywithher.Icouldbreakdownandsob
likeIhaven’tsobbedsinceIwastwelveyearsold,wonderingifmysisterwasgoingtobe
killedbythemanwhohadabductedher.

ButI’mnotgoingtocry.Ican’t.

NotifIwanttobeready.

AndI’mgoingtobeready.He’snotgoingtogetawaywiththis.He’snotgoingtowalk

awaythistime.

HebeginstopushforwardandIfightmyowninstincts,forcingmyselftorelax,

knowingitwillhurtsomuchmoreifIfight,knowingthatIcan’taffordtobehurtthatbad
ifI’mgoingtomakehimpay.Butjustbeforehebreachesthetightringofmyass,thunder
boomsthroughtheclearingandhisknifefallsawayfrommystomach.

Asecondlater,thepressureofhiscockisgoneandIhearaheavythudashisbody

tumblestothegroundbehindme.

BeforeIcanfullycomprehendthatit’soverorthatthesoundIheardwasn’tthunder,but

agunshot,Samisbymyside,helpingmeupandpullingmeintoherarms.AsIleaninto
her,IlookdownatthegroundtoseeTodd’slifelesseyesstaringupatthesky,abullet
holethroughthecenterofhisforehead.

“I’msorry,I’msorry,I’msorry,”Samchants,herhandsrunningovermybodyasifshe

canbanishalltheuglinesswithhertouch.

Andshecan.Shewill.

“Don’tbesorry,”Isay,tryingnottoshakeasIliftmyarmsbetweenus.“Justuntieme.

Andwe’llfinishthis.”

“I’msorry,”shesaysagain,sobbingasshetugsattheknotsholdingmyhandstogether.

“Ihadtowaituntilhewasn’tlookingatme.IhadtobesureIcouldgettheshotinbefore
hecutyouagain.”

“It’sokay.”Irollmywrists,bringingsensationbackintomyfingersbeforereaching

backtotugmyboxersbackuparoundmyhips.ButthemovementmakesSamsobagain
andIwishI’dwaited.

“I’mfine,”Iinsist,shiftinguntilIcansitandtakeherhandsinmine.Iwaituntilshe

looksupatme,tearsspillingfromherbigblueeyes.Thelanternlightisn’tthatbright,but
Icanseehowmuchshe’shurting,howmuchsheblamesherself,andIrefusetoletthat
happen.

“Pleasedon’thateme,”shewhispers.

Idon’tsayaword.Icupherfaceinmyhands,pullherclose,andtakeawayherpain.

Iconsumehertears,kissingthemawaywithmylipsandtongue,takingallofher

sadnessintomyselfbecauseIcanhandleit.Icanhandleitbecauseshesavedmefromthe

nightmareshelivedthrough.Shesavedmeandthereisnoreasonforhertocryfor
somethingthatdidn’thappen.

Finally,hertearsstopandmylipsfindhersandwekiss.Anditissweetandintenseand

filledwithgratitude.ItisallIwantedinthosemomentswhenIthoughtIwasgoingtodie.
Bythetimewepullapart,tearsarerollingdownmycheeks,buttheyaren’tsadtears.

I’mjustsodamnedgrateful.

“Don’tbesad,”Isay,blinkingfast,determinedtopullmyselftogether.“Iloveyou.I

don’tblameyou.Evenifithadhappened,Iwouldn’thaveblamedyou.Youaremineand
Icouldneverhateyou.Nomatterwhat.”

“Iloveyou,”shesays,brushingthetearsfrommycheekswithtenderhands.“Idon’t

everwanttoseeyouindangeragain.Promiseme,neveragain.”

“Ican’tpromisethat,”Isay.“Becausetheworldisashittyplacefullofterriblepeople,

butIpromiseI’llalwayshaveyourback.AndI’llknowI’maluckybastardthatyouhave
mine.”

Sheleansin,huggingmetightforalongmomentbeforeshekissesmycheekand

reachesdowntountietheropesbindingmycalvestogether.“Let’sgetoutofhere.”

“Thesooner,thebetter.”OnceI’mfree,wegrabTodd’sknifefromwhereitfelltothe

groundandhurrybacktothecars,circlingaroundthepitwhereeitherJeremyorJ.D.is
moaning.Westartourcar,breathingtwinsighsofreliefwhenitturnsovereasily,the
batterynotdrainedbythetimespentwiththelightson.

Pullingoutmypack,Ishovemyruinedjeansinsideandgrabapairofshorts,tugging

themonbeforetakingthegunfromSamandwipingitdown,gettingallherprintsoff,
whileshetakesableachragtothebatandtheknife.After,Iwrapthegunandthebat
togetherintheplasticfromthetrunk.

WhileshewipesdownJ.D.’srentalcar,Itakeoneofthelanternsandfollowthetrail

backintothejungletothesecondholewedugthedaywespentsweatinginthesunwith
ourshovels.Iburytheweaponsquicklyandthencoverthefreshlyturnedearthwith
leaves.

Ifthepolicehavedogs,there’sachanceeverythingwillbefound,buttherewillbeno

printsandnowaytotracktheillegallypurchasedfirearm,Todd’sknife,orabatpurchased
withcashtoeitherSamorme.Thisisjustaprecaution,butoneI’mgladwethoughtto
take.Afternearlydying,Ihavenointerestinendingupinprisonfacingadeathpenalty.

IgrabthewickerbasketcontainingthesnakesIboughtfromtheweirddudedownthe

roadfromthecompound,chilledbythesuddensquirminginside,andhurrydownthetrail.

Backattheclearing,IfindSamstandinginbetweentheheadlights,chewingonher

thumbasshestaresdownatthepit.

“Youready?”Iask,settingthewickerbasketcarefullydowninfrontofher.

“Whatabouttheblood?”shewhispers.“Toddmighthaveyourbloodonhishands.And

Iknowthere’sbloodontheground.Isawitdripfromyourstomachwhilehewas…while
hewasgettingreadytodoit.”

Iputmyarmaroundhershoulderandpullherinforahug,holdingherclosewhileI

think.

“Well,”Ifinallysay,keepingmyvoicelowincaseJ.D.orJeremyisalertenoughtobe

listening.“Wecangocleanitupthebestwecan,butI’veneverbeenarrestedorenlisted
inthemilitary.MyDNAshouldn’tbeonrecord.AslongasIkeepitthatwayitshouldbe
fine.”

“That’snotgoodenough.Ineedtoknowyou’resafe.”Shepullsaway,lookingupatme.

“Doyoustillhaveyourlighterinyourpack?”

Inod.“Youwanttoburnhim?”

“Wecanusethebaskettogetitgoing,”shesays.“It’ssodry,itshouldburnwellenough.

Andwedon’tneedthebodydestroyed,justforthefiretoburntheskinwiththebloodon
itaway.”

“AndIcandiguptheplacewhereIbledonthedirtandthrowitfartheroutinthe

woods.”IgrabmylighterfrommypackandpressitintoSam’shandsbeforereachingfor
thebaskethandles.“I’llemptythisinthepitandmeetyoubythebody.”

Shetouchesmywrists.“No.I…Idon’twantto.Notanymore.Justletthesnakesloose

inthewoods.”

“Yousure?”Isay.“You’renotgoingtoregretitlater?”

Sheshakesherhead.“No,I’mnot.We’llleavethosetwointherewiththeirhandstied

andletthemfiguretheirownwayout.Theywill,soonerorlater,andeventuallythey’ll
learnwhathappenedtoTodd.Ithinkaltogetherthat’sastrongenoughmessage.”

“ThenI’lllettheseguysoutandmeetyouthere.”

BythetimeIdumpthesnakesinagulleyandmakeitbacktotheplacewhereIalmost

died,Sam’sgotToddproppedupagainstthetreestumpandabundleofstickswedged
intothecrevicesbeneathhisbackandunderhislegs.

“Ialreadythrewthedirtwithyourbloodonitoutintothewoods,”shesays.“Wejust

needtogethimready.”

Wetearthebasketapartandstuffthepiecesaroundthebody,notspeakinguntilthe

momentcomestolightitup.Then,westandsidebyside,staringdownintotheflat,empty
eyesofadeadmonster.

Idon’tknowaboutSam,butwhenIlookathim,Ifeelnothing.

Nothate,notfear,nothingbutexhaustedbywhatwe’vebeenthroughandsickenedby

thegorebeginningtodripfromtheholeinhisforehead.

Heisn’tamonsternow;he’sjustdeadtissue.

WhateveritwasthatmadeToddthenightmarehewas—hismindorhissoul—isgone.I

don’tknowwhereit’sgone,butIdon’tfeelanyguiltaboutmypartinitsdestruction.And
ifthereisahell,Iknowhe’sonhiswaythere,torotandroastwiththerestofthewicked
things.

“Totheendofit,”Samwhispers,flickingthelighteron.

“Totheendofit.”

Shelightsthewickerpiecesandtheygoupfast,flaminghotlongenoughtocatchthe

sticksandTodd’sclothesonfire.Westayuntilheisengulfedinflamesandthesmellof
humanskincatchingbeginstoovercomethesmellofburningsticksandcottonandthen
weturnandwalkaway.

Oneofthemeniscallingoutfromthepitaswegetintothecar,butwedon’tanswerhis

criesforhelp.

Wegetin,buckleup,anddriveaway,andwedon’tlookbacknotevenwhenwe’re

safelystrappedinonaplanetakingusfar,faraway.

EPILOGUE

OneYearLater

Danny

“AlltheknowledgeIpossesseveryoneelsecanacquire,

butmyheartisallmyown.”

-Goethe

Theysayabsencemakestheheartgrowfonder,andforalongtime,Ithoughtthatwas

true.

ForcedtobeawayfromSamsomuchwhileweweregrowingup,Ilovedhermoreevery

timeourseparationendedandIcouldfinallyholdherinmyarmsagain.

Butafterayearofmarriageandconstanttogetherness—workingandplayingand

healingtogether—Iknowitwasn’tabsencemakingmyheartgrowfonder,itwasjust
Sam.It’showthingsarewhensomethingismeanttobe.Istilllovehermoreeveryday,
treasuringthefactthatIgettogotobedwithhereverynightandwakeuptoherevery
morning.

Andtoday,Igottomarryheralloveragain,onacliffbesidetheCroatiansea,withour

familyandfriendsallheretohelpuscelebrate.Theydon’tknowthiswasoursecond
weddingorthatweelopedinThailandayearago,butwethoughtitwasbesttokeepthat
oursecret.

Theywouldn’thaveunderstoodthetwoofusmakingsuchamajordecisionafterSam

hadspentayearinseclusion.Theywouldn’thaveunderstoodthatalovelikeoursdoesn’t
needlongtofixthethingsthatarebroken,orthatweneededtobemarried,justincasewe
wereeveraskedtotestifyagainsteachotherincourt.

Wehaven’ttoldasoulwhatwedid,andevenwhenthenewscameoutaboutTodd’s

murder,nooneaskedifwewereinCostaRicaatthesametimeastheSBEbrothers.Not
theauthoritiesandnotourfamilythoughIwouldbetmyhandsthatCaitlinandGabe
know.Thewaymysisterhuggedme,thedaySamandIshoweduponherfrontporch
witheverythingweownedinthebagsatourfeet,madeitclearhowworriedshe’dbeen.

Andhowhappyshewastohaveusbothhomesafe.

“Thatwassobeautiful,”Caitlinsaysnow,dabbingatherfacewithatissueasshewraps

herfreearmaroundmywaist.“Youguysjustaboutbrokemyheartwiththevows.”

“We’vehadalongtimetoplanthem,”Isay,lookingovermysister’sheadtowhereSam

istalkingtoherparentsbytherailingattheedgeofthecliffoverlookingtheocean.

Inawhite,flapperstyledress,withherchin-lengthbrowncurlswildaroundherfaceand

flowersinherhair,sheisstunning.Butitisn’tjustthedressortheflowers;it’stheway
shesmileswhenshelooksovertoseemewatchingandstartstowardmeacrossthegrass.

It’sherSamtheSharksmile,theonesobigandwideoneofhermeanerfriendsusedto

makefunofherforit.I’vealwayslovedthatsmile,butIloveitevenmorenowbecauseit
meansshe’swholeagain.

Therearescarsonherheartthatwillneverheal,andbothofuslostwhatlittleinnocence

wehadleftlastsummer.Butscarsremindustobegratefulforbeautifuldayswithoutany
paininthemandinnocenceisoverrated.

Ouryounger,innocentselveslovedpurely,butnotasfiercelyorselflesslyaswedonow.

Nowweknowthatthereisnothingmorepreciousthanthis.Wewerestrippedbare,
broughtlow,andmeteachotherinthedarknesswheretherewasnothingbutourloveto
leadusbacktothelight.

Anditwasenough.

Morethanenough.

Now,thereisnothinglefttobeafraidof.

Lettheworldbringitsworst.We’rereadybecausethereisnoendtoalovelikethis.

Whatevercomesafterthislife,IwillbewithSamandshewillbewithme.We’renottwo
treeswithafusedtrunkanymore,weareoneheart,fornowandalways.

“Nomorecrying,”Samsays,pullingCaitlininforahug.“Ifyoudon’tstop,I’llstart

againandIwasn’tsmartenoughtowearwaterproofmascara.”

Caitlinlaughsasshepullsawaytowipehereyes.“Okay.I’llstop.I’mjustsohappyfor

youboth.Notwopeoplehaveeverdeservedhappinessmore.”

IreachforSam,butshe’salreadywrappingherarmsaroundmywaist,sensingwhatI

needbeforeIhavethechancetoask,thewayshedoes.

“Idon’tknowaboutthat,”shesays,“butwe’recertainlygratefulforit.”

“Weare.”Ihughercloser.“AndI’mgoingtobeevenmoregratefulafterwehavecake.”

Caitlinrollshereyes.“YouandJuliet.She’sbeentryingtogetherlittlearmselbows

deepinthatcakesinceshelaideyesonit.”Sheturns,scanningthecrowdforherdaughter,
laughingwhensheseesthetwo-year-olddashingacrossthegrasstowardthecakewithher
daddynotfarbehind.“I’dbettergogiveGabeabreakbeforesherunshimragged.”

“Tellherwe’llberightovertocutherabigpiece,”Samsays.“Wedon’twanttokeep

ourfavoritetyrantwaiting.”

“Sheisatyrant,”Caitlinagreesaffectionately.“Goodthingshe’scute.”

“Crazycute,”Samagrees,smilingasCaitlinrunsacrossthegrasstoscoopJulietupin

herarms,blowingkissesagainstherdaughter’scheekuntilJulietgiggles.

Samhasgrownclosertoallmyfamilyinthepastyear,butsheandJuliethaveaspecial

bond.Theyarekindredspirits,stronggirlswhoknowwhattheywantandaren’tafraidto
lettheworldknowaboutit.ThoughSamhasmorepatience.Mostofthetime.

“Youdidn’ttellherdidyou?”sheasks,tiltingherheadtolookupatme,thesettingsun

makinghereyessparkle,takingmybreathaway.

“Youlooklikeamoviestarrightnow.Iswearyoudo.”

Hersmileshiftstotheright.“Thatmeansyoudidn’ttellher.”

“Ifigureditcouldwait,”Isay,kissingherforehead.“Idon’twanttoruinthedayforher.

She’sgoingtobesadtoseeusleave,evenifitisonlyforfourmonths.”

“Iknow.”Samliftsherchin,bringingherlipsclosertomine.“Butifwedon’thaveour

adventurenow,we’llhavetoputitoffforanothertwentyyears.”

“Nottrue,”Isay,kissingher,lovingthatshetasteslikesunshineandhappiness,exactly

thewayabrideshouldtasteonherweddingday.“Whenthey’reteenagers,wecouldleave
thekidswithCaitlinandGabeforafewmonthsandsneakoff.Teenagerssuckanyway.”

Samsmiles.“That’swhytheyneedparentsaround,tokeepthemfromsucking.AndI’m

sureCaitlinandGabewillbebusyenoughwiththeirownobnoxiouskids.”

Ibringmyhandtoherflatstomach,stillfindingithardtobelieveourbabyisinthere,

growingbiggereveryday.“Ican’twaituntilIcanfeelherkick.”

“Orhim,”Samsays.“Itmightbeaboy,aboyasgorgeousandwonderfulashisdaddy.”

Ishakemyhead.“Tryingtobuttermeupsoyou’llgetlaidtonight?”

“Oh,I’mgettinglaidtonight,”shesays,eyesnarrowingasshegrins.“Ihavealetter

fromthedoctorsayingitiscompletelyfineforustohavesex.Iwenttoherofficethis
morningandmadeherwriteitout,eventhoughshethoughtyouwerecrazyforworrying.”

“I’mnotcrazy,”IsaythoughI’msecretlyrelieved.It’sbeenhellkeepingmyhandsto

myselfthepastweeksincewefoundout.Unexpectedly,knowingSamispregnantwith
ourbabyhasgivenmeahard-onthatwon’tquit.

“Youarecrazy,”shesays,handdriftingdowntopatmyass.“Butalsovery,verysweet.”

“Areyoufondlingmyassinpublic?”

“Yes,”shesays,stillgrinning.“I’mallowedtodothatnowthateveryoneknowswe’re

married.It’soneoftheperks.Atleastforthefirstyear.Publicbuttfondlingisforgivenif
you’reanewlywed.”

Islidemyhandaroundfromherbellytoherbottom,fightingtokeepmybodyfrom

respondingtooobviouslytohercloseness.“Ididn’tknowthat.Ilikethatperk.”

“Ithoughtyoumight,butI—”

Samdoesn’tgettofinishhersentencebeforeJulietcollideswithourknees,wrapsher

chubbyarmsaroundourcalves,andhowls,“Cake,peasecake,peasecake!”insucha
pitifulwayyouwouldthinkthekidhadn’tbeenfedinamonth.

“Yes,Jules,I’msosorry,”Samsays,scoopingJulietintoherarmswithalaugh.“Itis

pasttimeforcake.Let’sgogetsome.Rightnow.”

“Yay!Cake!”Juliet’stearsvanish,replacedbyabiggrinthatmakesherblueeyes

sparklejustlikeSam’s.

IstaywhereIamforaminute,watchingmywifecarrymynieceacrossthegrasstothe

smalltentwhereourweddingcakesitswaitingtobecut.ThewaySamholdsJulietso
naturally,slunglowonherhipwithahandcradlingJules’diaper-cladbottom,shelooks
likeshewasmadetobeanaunt,amama.

Shelookssoftandsweet,butIknowsheisalsoafighterandasurvivor.Iknowsheisas

strongassheistenderandthatIdon’thavetobeafraidthatlifewillbreakheragain,not
aslongaswe’retogether.AndthereisnothingIneedintheworldasidefromthat.

AsidefromtheoneIlove.

Halfwayacrossthelawnoverlookingtheocean,wherethesunissettingslow,asifit

hatestomissamomentofthisperfectday,Samstopsandturnsbacktolookatmeand
mouths,“Iloveyou,too,”likesheknowswhatIwasthinking.

AndI’msureshedoes.

TheEnd

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PROLOGUE

Picturethis:it’sarainyspringdayinthecity.Thestreetsarecoveredwithafinelayerof

mudandsoggygarbage,thesunisadistantmemoryfromanother,brightertimewhenyou
werestillstupidenoughtobelieveinhappyendings,andyou’vejustbeendumpedsohard
yourheartlookslikeit’sgonethreeroundswithMikeTyson.

You’reuglycryinginacornerwithaboxofwineandachocolatebarthesizeofyour

forearm,wishingPrinceCharmingwouldcomeswoopyouuponhiswhitehorseand
carryyoufarawayfromallthosenastymemoriesofMr.Wrong,butI’mheretotellyou,
ladies—

Youneedtostopthatshit.

Stopit.Rightnow.

Why?BecausePrinceCharmingisacrockofshit.Likeunicorns,mermen,andother

fairytalecreatures,hedoesn’texist.

Whenyou’redownandoutandyourhearthasbeenrippedtoshredsbyanassholewitha

dickish-sideamilewide,youdon’tneedPrinceCharming.Youneedamanwho’snot
afraidtogethishandsdirty,amanwhocanteachMr.Wrongathingortwoaboutwhatit
feelsliketobedeceived,betrayed,andlaidlowbytheonepersonintheworldyou
thoughtyoucouldtrust.WhatyouneedisaMagnificentBastard,yourveryownone-man
vengeancemachine.

Loveisn’tafairytale,sweetheart;it’swar,andnowyou’vegotasoldierwithananti-

assholemissileonyourside.

Wanttoruinyourex’sreputation?Noproblem.Everytrueassholehasafewskeletonsin

hisclosetandIspecializeinspringcleaning.Wanttosendthathumancomestaintojail?
Alittleharder,butoftenstillpossible.Ionlyacceptcasesinvolvingtheveryworst
examplesofmankind,themostmiserableliars,cheats,andscoundrels.Trulyterrible
peopletendtobegoodatcoveringtheirtracks,butI’vedeliveredexesincuffsbefore.

Wanttomakeyourformerlovergreenwithenvy?Makehimwishhe’dneverkickedyou

offthelovewagon,spatinyourface,andwalkedaway?Well,that,cupcake…

That’swhatI’mbestat.

I’vebeenblessedwithafacethatturnsheads,workedhardforabodythatinspires

shuddersoflustattwentypaces,andhonedmyenvy-inspiringskillsintoarazorsharp
weaponIwieldwithruthlessefficiency.Iwillmakeyoufeellikeaqueenandensureyour
exdoesn’tmissaminuteofit.You’llbetreatedlikeatreasure,pamperedlikeaprincess,
andkissedlikeaslutwhocan’tgetenoughofmymagnificentdick.

Inreality,ofcourse,thingsbetweenuswillnevergofurtherthanakiss,butyourex

won’tknowthat.He’llseeyourflushedcheeks,lust-glazedeyes,andwobblylegsand
thinkI’mgivingittoyouhardeverynight.

He’llimaginemyhandsonyourass,myfingersslippingbetweenyourlegs,andyour

pussyslickjustforme.He’llimagineyouscreamingmynamewhileyouridemycock
andrememberallthetimeshewasluckyenoughtobeballsdeepinyourincomparable
snatch.Beforelong,he’llhaveajealousyhard-onsobadhe’llcomecrawlingbacktoyou
onhisbelly,beggingforasecondchance.

Butyouwon’tgiveittohim.

Didyouhearthat?

Evenso,itbearsrepeating—

You.Willnot.Givethatloserasecondchance.

BythetimeI’mthroughwithyou,youwillknowdeepdowninthemarrowofyour

bonesthatyou’rebetterthanthat.You’llrealizethatyoudeserveamanwhoseeyeswon’t

wander,whosehandswon’thurt,andwhoseheartbelongstoyouandonlyyou.You’llbe
abletolookdownatthesniveling,pathetic,limp-dickedexcuseforamanyouusedto
loveandtellhimthathehasnopoweroveryou.

Notanymore.Nowyou’refreetomoveonwithyourlifewithoutanyofthebad

breakup,psychicbaggage.

Andthat,gorgeous,isthemostimportantoftheservicesIdeliver.Igiveyoubackto

you,theonlypersonwhocanbetrustedtosteeryourcourseasyourideoffintothesunset.

Butifforsomereason,youbreakthisall-importantrule,ifyousourthegiftyou’vebeen

givenbygoingbacktoMajorDickweed,don’tbothercontactingmeagain.Noamountof
moneywillconvincemetopickupthephone.

AMagnificentBastardinterventionisaonceinalifetimeopportunity.Oneanddone,no

exceptions.

None.

Notevenforher,thewomanwhomademebreakallmyrules,thewomanwhomademe

think—foroneamazingweek—thatevenmagnificentbastardscanlivehappilyeverafter.

LearnmoreaboutMagnificentBastard

atLili’swebsite:

http://www.lilivalente.com/

ABOUTTHEAUTHOR

LiliValentehassleptunderthestarsinGreece,eatendinneratmidnightwithFrenchmen
whocouldn’tbetrustedtokeeptheirmouthsontheirfood,andwalkedalonethrough
Munich’sredlightdistrictafterdarkandlivedtotellthetale.

Thesedaysyoucanfindherwritinginatentbesidethesea,drinkingcoconutwaterand
thinkingdelightfullydirtythoughts.

Lililovestohearfromherreaders.Youcanreachherviaemailat
lili.valente.romance@gmail.comorlikeherpageonFacebook

https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLiliValente?ref=hl

Youcanalsovisitherwebsite:

http://www.lilivalente.com/