Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 73462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“Thanks.” I offer nothing more.
Sienna just toasted to “surviving the storm.”
I’ve already survived the ultimate storm. Whatever this island and these men have in store for me? Or what June or Misty may have up their sleeves?
It’s nothing.
I’ve been to hell and back. Nothing will surprise me.
The words I said to Sebastian mere days ago echo in my mind again.
I’m an open book, Sebastian. Except for that tattoo. I don’t talk about it. So don’t ever ask me about it again. That’s all I’m going to say on the matter. I don’t need to hear an apology, or an “I didn’t know,” or a “You can tell me anything, baby, and I’ll understand.” Because trust me. You won’t understand.
It wasn’t a complete lie. I am an open book.
Correction—Heather Hill is an open book.
But Heather Hill is an illusion.
Sienna doesn’t press me about the tattoo.
Good.
Sienna eyes the French doors leading to the mansion. “I wonder who’s slamming doors in there?”
“Who fucking knows?” I finish my drink. “I could use a swim. Want to join me?”
She doesn’t respond right away. Then, “You know what? Yeah. Pool or ocean?”
“Who gives a shit?”
She laughs. “You’re right. Let’s just get some distance between us and this house.”
We go upstairs—not running into anyone other than staff, thank God—and change into our suits.
Sienna wears a gold tankini, and I choose a blood-red bikini that clashes with my black and blue hair. But it feels right. I’m in a red mood.
We head outside—this time narrowly avoiding Ariel, Jazz, and Cheryl who are talking nonstop about tomorrow’s festivities—and walk toward the pool house.
The air is heavy with salt and tension, and for a split second I consider walking down the concrete pathway and straight into the ocean, swimming until I hit Jamaica.
Not that I want to leave the island, but I’d just as soon miss whatever’s brewing. I’m not afraid of a storm, but that doesn’t mean I want to walk headfirst into one.
Instead, I follow Sienna to the pool area, shed my suit so I’m buck naked, and dive right in.
The water wraps around me and steals the air from my lungs. It drowns out everything else. No voices, no memories, no footsteps echoing down a hallway that no longer exists. Just the feeling of weightlessness, as if for once, I’m not carrying anything. Not guilt. Not fear. Not the past.
Just me. Alone, submerged, unbothered.
Free.
I swim a few laps and then pull myself out and sit on the edge.
Sienna swims over and props her arms on the tile, looking toward the house.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Just thinking.”
“Dangerous habit.”
“Yeah.” She glances over her shoulder at me. “Do you ever think about what you’ll do when this is all over?”
I blink. “Define all.”
She shrugs. “The island. The games. The men. When we’re back in the real world. If we even get back.” She sighs. “If you go back alone.”
My answer is automatic. “I don’t think that far ahead.”
But that’s a lie.
Because when I close my eyes at night, sometimes I do think about what happens next. What happens if one of them chooses me.
If I let him choose me.
Sienna doesn’t push, just tilts her head back and sighs. “Sometimes I think none of us are going to leave this place the same.”
I shrug. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing.”
She chuckles but it doesn’t quite make it to her eyes. “You’re kind of scary, you know that?”
“Thanks.”
She laughs again, but there’s a nervous edge to it. I slide back into the water before she can say anything else.
EPISODE 221
LOVE IS LIKE OXYGEN
River
Emily stands there, chest heaving, her face pale and strained. Her eyes are rimmed with panic, and she’s looking at me like I’m going to implode any minute.
Maybe I will.
“River—”
I hold up a hand to stop her.
I don’t want to hear it. Not now.
I know Sebastian. He had his eye on Emily the first night. In fact, I seem to recall the two of them disappearing at one point.
And Emily…
She was afraid Seb told me something.
It doesn’t take a genius to read between those lines.
“You slept with him, didn’t you?” My voice is cold, detached. Like I’m asking about something mundane and not the fact that Emily—my Emily—fucked another man.
She flinches as if I struck her.
“Yes,” she admits in a small voice.
Her confession slices through me like a cold blade.
“Why?”
“I thought we were over,” she replies. “I thought you didn’t love me.”
Her words hit me like a load of bricks. “You thought that because I didn’t say it before leaving?”
She nods, her face crumpling. “You left me alone, River. I was… Bloody hell. I was about to say I was vulnerable. But I wasn’t. I was angry. Needy. Fuck it all. I don’t like myself like this.”
I swallow hard, fighting the wave of hurt and betrayal surging through me. The room feels like it’s closing in, my heart pounding so hard I feel like it might burst out of my chest.