Page 101 of Lucky 14

Then that annoying ripping is back at my neck, but this time it’s moved to my ears and my eyes. Instinctually, I roll away. There’s arguing, but I don’t pay attention. All I care about is Oakley.

Oakley seems pissed. Before I let him up, I scan the surroundings to make sure he’s out of the danger zone. The villa seems okay. It must have been a short one.

The knowledge that Oakley isn’t in danger makes tears well up in my eyes, and the sensation startles me. I’m hit with a wall of relief so hard it makes me stop breathing. The emotions feel foreign. I don’t feel sadness. I feel happy or nothing at all. That’s my only goal.

Right now, I’m not feeling anything, though.

The woman is yelling strange things, but then Oakley is here. “Hey.” He looks down at me. He’s mad. I’m sure it’s because I ran from him when he asked me to stay.

And despite that, he chased me down. He’s still here.

Sitting here in the rain with the alcohol humming in my veins, I realize that Oakley wouldn’t run if I told him about my demons. Oakley has his own demons, I see them clear as day in those eyes. But he doesn’t run from them. He faces them, letting them crinkle the sides of his eyes in pain and worry, but also joy and vulnerability.

For a second, I wonder if feeling is worth it. If it’s worth the pain and the tears and the memories just to feel that…fire that Oakley feels. The fire without the tequila. The color without the Molly.

I think I must be crying, because the man I’m obsessed with bends down, a crunch between his brows. His gaze sweeps my face, then my body. Then he’s pulling my tequila away.

I have a knee-jerk reaction to grab it, but I feel like I’m moving through quicksand. And then Oakley is back.

“Heeey,” I say, my words slurred. I must be more drunk than I realize because for a second, all I see are Nellie’s eyes in front of me.

But Nellie wouldn’t take my drink.

When I blink, she’s gone, and Oakley is here.

I can’t stop the tears, and I pull Oakley in for a hug.

And then I puke all over the deck.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Day 8

Wyatt is drunk. Like, blackout drunk. I stare at the way Oakley’s rubbing his back as he heaves up bile.

“Oakley…” I caution. I’m not sure what’s going on, but everything is wrong. I feel the danger crawling up my back. Wyatt is acting so…off, and it makes me want to claw my skin off.

“This is Kyan,” Oakley insists, looking at me with such conviction and passion in his gaze that it startles me. Oakley’s eyes are wide and glassy, and he looks…damn near crazed.

I raise my hands, looking over my shoulder to make sure we’re still alone. The deck is off some sort of sunroom where a tree limb has come down through the roof in a more secluded area of the villa. We had come here to look for some avenue of escape before Oakley ran off like a crazy person.

Wyatt curls up in Oakley’s arms, and Oakley comforts him out in the rain like a newborn baby. I almost rip Oakley off of him, but there’s this nagging in the back of my head. Wyatt’s features are exactly the same—the bad boy, roguish tattoos, the dark hair now spilling over his forehead, and the dark eyes. Only, right now, they aren’t calculating. They’re glassy and happy and…vulnerable.

Right. What game is he playing? Why the hell would he pretend to look for me with Oakley if he knew exactly where I was? What possible benefit could he be getting from befriending Oakley?

My stomach churns with the possibilities. Are they working together?

I take a step back, and Oakley notices.

“Ky, where the hell is Wyatt?”

Kyan just stares up into Oakley’s eyes and pets his face.

“Ky.” Oakley shakes his hand off. “Wyatt is trying to kill us.”

Slowly, Wyatt’s brow furrows. I stare at him. He actually looks confused, and a slew of emotions fills me. Is he just a really good actor, and I’ve stopped being able to read people?

Suddenly, a wild idea hits me. I freeze, staring at the man on the ground. The idea is so crazy that it makes me stare blankly.