Page 69 of Lucky 14

“And you kill people. But yeah, tell me more about the house.”

“I don’t kill people!” I’m nearly shouting now. “If I wanted to kill you, don’t you think I’d have done it by now? Maybe when you threw a rock at my head?”

She watches me with a fiery gaze, so much damn heat in her eyes that I can’t look away. I growl, “I wasn’t supposed to be here. Neither were you. How many times do I have to tell you I’m trying to get us out?”

“Why am I here, Fourteen?” Holli shouts. She’s shorter than me, but she’s somehow still looking down on me.

“I don’t know,” I shoot back. The lie squeezes my chest as it comes out, but I can’t stop it. “I thought I won a free vacation. Some things were odd, but I didn’t question them. Clearly, that’s not what this is. As for you, I have no idea how you got here.”

There’s a standoff where we both stare at each other. I gaze into her blue eyes, willing her to believe me. Pouring all my believability into my stare. I’m not here to hurt you. Because that part’s true.

Finally, she starts shivering again.

“If you don’t get me off this goddamn island right the fuck now, I’ll fucking finish the job I started with the rock.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Day 4

As much as I glare at the back of Oakley’s head, I can’t make us go any faster. Once the rain let up, he started walking me to the villa. It’s the last place I want to go, considering all the hunters stay there. But it’s also the most likely place to find a boat or a plane or anything to get away from here. I’m definitely going to die out in the woods, so what’s the worst that can happen? I die, but much closer to a chance at freedom?

As we walk, I rack my fuzzy brain for reasons Oakley is playing the wounded hero. Maybe this is a fetish. He saves his mark, gets to play the savior, and then gets off when his victims trust him enough to curl up in his arms.

I can’t help but notice his slim but fit body and the way he’s mastered the kicked-puppy look with those compelling eyes under that fringe of hair. Which pisses me off. He doesn’t need to go through all these measures. One be-nice-to-me-I’m-a-wounded-animal look from him, combined with his model body, and I’m sure he has anyone he wants falling into his bed.

Oakley casts yet another worried glance back at me.

I glare at him. He should be worried. If I could run, I would. But I feel like I’m floating in a fog, and my leg hurts like hell. Also, as much as I fucking hate it, Oakley seems like a barrier between the other hunters and me. Twenty-Seven didn’t chase me because he was too focused on Oakley. Or Fourteen. I hate calling him Oakley. We aren’t on a first-name basis. He doesn’t get to act like he cares about me.

Walking has made me less cold, but I’m still shivering. Or maybe it was the meds I took. By the time we get to an area where the trees are blackened, I still don’t have a plan. So when Oakley stops us, grabs a mask out of his bag, and tells me to put it on. I just stare. The mask has deer antlers and a skull. But the sudden stop in movement makes me dizzy.

He proceeds to give me that pleading look again, and I snatch it roughly out of his hand. Either Oakley is highly insecure, or he’s a master manipulator with no feelings at all. And let’s be honest, the first option is what he wants me to believe. Therefore, it’s almost guaranteed to not be true.

“I don’t want people to see you,” Oakley urges, and his shoulder ticks, looking over his shoulder to where I can just see the villa. I grind my teeth, but he’s right. The fewer hunters who know I’m here and therefore want to join in on whatever Oakley’s plans are, the better.

I put on the mask without a fight, and Oakley’s face drops in relief. Then he starts leading me inside.

For the first time, when I’m not running for my life, I get a good look at the villa. It looms above us, in an odd mix of old Japanese-style architecture and a Holiday Inn. It has the classic boxy structure of an American hotel, only with roof corners that curve up at the top, and is painted a rust-red. Like blood. It feels weird. Wrong.

Another shiver racks through me as I step up to a set of doors off a patio, and the urge to run ramps up in my muscles. If Oakley looks back at me again, I think I’ll run. His head starts to turn, and I plant my toes to turn, but then the door opens, and someone in an employee uniform walks out, and Oakley gets distracted. For an instant, I think about begging the employee for help. He looks normal, older, with gray hair and a polite smile. Surely he has kids at home? A daughter my age?

“Hey.” Oakley is giving me a look, and this time, he’s dropped the bullshit caring act, and he actually looks afraid. And some odd instinct drives me to freeze.

“C’mon.” Oakley is holding out his hand.

The old man gives me another polite smile, then he walks away.

Oakley grabs my hand and pulls me inside, no longer giving me an out to run if I wanted to. He guides me to an elevator and grabs me around the elbow. Immediately, I jerk out of his grip, only for it to tighten.

“Let go of me—” That’s when I feel him shaking.

Oakley clears his throat, gaze darting around before guiding us on. He presses a button and then is silent. The more silent he is, the more I sweat. Why isn’t he trying to charm me? Is this an adrenaline dump before he does something he knows is wrong?

I’m sweating under the mask, and it feels hard to breathe. I’m screwed. I’m so screwed. When the elevator opens, I just want to stay in this safe box. Surely there’s someone nice on this island. Or if not nice, at least not a murderer. And it’s cold again. Freezing cold.

“Holli.” Oakley’s voice is sharp. With fear?

He pulls me out of the elevator, and I try to fight, but I’m shivering so hard it feels like I’ve lost control of my limbs. Just like I’ve lost control of my life.