Page 141 of Lucky 14

But am I still alone?

I look around the room. Oakley gives me a ‘what the hell’ eyebrow raise, and Wyatt sneaks another look back at me as he makes plans to annihilate every living thing on this island.

I cross my arms.

These are two very traumatized men who seem to like me in their own ways. Two obsessive men who seem to want to keep me safe. Three, if you count Kyan.

A warm feeling spreads through me, followed quickly by the cold of familiar fear, and I just stand there and notice it. Notice it while I watch Riley flip Sawyer off behind his back and Rachel smack her. Notice it while these big, burly men throw adoring eyes at their women when they think no one is looking. They live such dangerous lives, and yet their women choose to love them anyway. Aren’t they afraid?

Deep down, the therapist side of me knows you can have love and fear at the same time. Love always hurts, in some way.

I just don’t want it to. I’ve spent my whole adulthood running from that hurt, and yet it has always managed to keep up with me. But these people aren’t running. They’re loving, fully.

Will that ever be an option for me?

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

Day 13

Well fuck me in the ass and tell me I’m pretty; the villa is burning down.

I’m far away, but I can almost feel the heat from the fire against my face. It’s dry and scorching, making me want to close my eyes.

There’s a hand on my arm, pulling me back. I glance to the side to see Oakley. Oakley with a gun. Holli is here too, also with a gun.

What the absolute fuck?

That same fear is bubbling up in me, grabbing on the edges of my consciousness and trying to pull me down with it. I wake up, and suddenly it’s my job to save the world?

“Ky?” Oakley pulls me back again, grounding me.

I frown, completely lost. What the hell was I doing while I was blacked out? Also, why the hell are these two out here? They’re untrained. They’ll get hurt. Or worse, killed.

My heart is racing, and those fingertips of fear are digging into my brain, biting down so hard they hurt. My head fucking hurts.

“Wyatt is trying to take down Weston,” Oakley says, “We’re doing recon since the fire took out most of the camera system.”

They aren’t safe!

“Why are you here?” It’s the only question I can get out. Oakley has never implied he’s trained in combat. Who gave him a gun? And Holli is cunning and dangerous, but in a fight?

Now, I’m picturing both of them slaughtered, bleeding out onto the dirt of the forest, and my heart clenches so hard I bend over, and that sense of impending doom hits me like a wave of cold water. My heart races, but it feels like it’s doing nothing against the fear that’s splitting my brain open like an orange. And my chest hurts. Am I having a heart attack? What is happening?

“You guys shouldn’t be here.” I’m still bent over, but I start herding Oakley and Holli back toward the house.

I’ve seen dead people before. I’ve made dead people before. It’s never bothered me more than to get me to reach for another drink. But I’m losing it about these two.

Because these aren’t just people. They’re Oakley King and Holland…

Oh my god, what's Holli’s last name? It’s the stupidest thought that could pop in my head as I try to break past my tunnel vision to scan the treeline for threats. I’ve never cared about names before, except for with them. For some reason, I want to know everything I can about these two.

Weathersfield, a voice grunts in my head.

Oh, cool. Thanks, voices in my head. Cause there’s no way that’s accurate. Right?

Suddenly, I need to know if that’s right.

I round on Holli, who is trying to herd me right back. “What’s your last name?”