Maxx and I spend several hours organizing my spreadsheet and making a list of places to check out. How, exactly, I’m going to get to any of them is beyond me, but we’ll figure it out. Eventually, my lids get so heavy that I start falling asleep and dropping my phone on my face.

“Alright, Kota, it’s time to get some sleep.” X takes the phone from me and puts it on the charging pad inside the nightstand drawer, even as I grumble protests at him.

“I’m sure Parrish is tired, too,” I murmur, but X flicks the lights off anyway.

“I’m sure he’s just fine in that department seeing as he has nothing better to do with his day. You, on the other hand, cannot find him if you collapse from exhaustion.” He retrieves the throw blanket from the floor and covers me up with it even as I groan in protest. But I know he’s right. I really do need to sleep. “I’ll be just across the hall if you need me.”

My eyes are already drifting shut. I barely hear him. I do, however, feel his warm, calloused hand brushing my hair back before he leaves. His touch makes me shudder, but I shove the feeling away and turn toward the wall. Within minutes, I’m out like a light.

Unfortunately, about two hours later, my phone buzzes from inside the nightstand drawer. Seeing as my Tess-phone is back on the mini-tripod atop my dresser, I snap out of a deep sleep knowing exactly which phone it is that’s just received a message.

I roll over, yanking the drawer open, even as I’m still blinking sleep from my eyes.

My stomach’s in knots, and my pulse is racing, my palms are sweaty. Being woken up in the middle of the night like this is never good. Even were the texter to be someone other than Justin, I’d be worried.

But it is, of course, Justin.

Princess, wake up.

That’s the first message. As I’m staring at the screen, another comes in.

Oh good, you’re up. That’s a relief. I wouldn’t have enjoyed coming over there to wake you myself.

My mouth twitches. I’m not sure if he’s telling the truth or if he has an agent to do it for him. Either way, he’s made it perfectly clear through his actions that getting access to this house, to this room in particular, is not an impossible feat. I imagine that even with the new cameras in all the common areas, the live monitoring of the feed, and the police officers and security guards that Tess hired prowling the property, that Justin could figure out a way to me.

I sit up with the phone in my hand, so tired that I could cry. Maxx was right: I really did need to sleep. I still need to sleep.

What do you want? I text back, even though I know that antagonizing the man is not a very smart idea.

Want? He queries back, probably staring at me through the phone on my camera. I frown at him, certain that he can see me. I had intended on giving you today and tomorrow off. It is, after all, Memorial Day. Besides that, you had a very busy afternoon.

Can you please just get to the point? I shoot back, wondering how the hell I’m going to survive tomorrow’s luncheon. What if Maxx and Chasm are right? What if I don’t survive it? Then again, Justin had me in the woods all alone in the middle of night. Why not kill me then? He certainly wouldn’t reveal himself to the public the way he did today and then murder me on our first father-daughter outing together, not unless he really, really wanted to get caught.

I warned you more than once to choose your pawns carefully. People can be useful tools, but they must be managed carefully. If you’ll recall Mr. Fosser. He disobeyed me and needed to be punished.

Adrenaline rockets through me. Is he … is he going to ask me to kill Maxx?! What if he does? Then what? I could never do that. I’d have to give up on Parrish right then and there, run and tell Tess as quickly as I could. But Parrish would still die and everything I’ve done thus far would be for naught.

Maxx Wright was not a good choice. He’s impulsive but also morally righteous, in his eyes. He cares much for little things. You allowed him to react toward me today in an inappropriate way, and I would be remiss if I didn’t use this opportunity to impart my parental wisdom.

I’m shaking so hard right now, but all I can do is wait for his directive. I’m essentially helpless in this moment. And I hate that. I hate it so fucking much. Rage fills me, bright and hot, but there’s no outlet for it. Just a screen and a series of text messages that are so goddamn vague, they’d never hold up in a courtroom.

Sure, Justin’s mentioned Mr. Fosser and Mr. Volli, but they aren’t him. Sure, he’s said things like ‘parental wisdom’ but so what. It could be anyone on the other end of this phone. Anyone. I’m sure he’s covered his tracks with all due care.

I’ve heard word that he values his virginity.

That last message throws me a bit. I blink a few times, but apparently, I’m dense as hell. That, or I’m just too exhausted to think clearly. I don’t understand why that’s a relevant piece of information. Where did he hear that from? From Maxine? Oh god, I hope not. More than likely, he was listening to Maxx and me talk through our phones while we were on the trail.

It’s effortless, the way this man hops from one device to another. Seamless. No wonder he was able to craft an app like Milk Carton, a facial recognition app that can be used by anyone, anywhere. This isn’t military stuff; this is for the public. How terrifying is that?

As much as I despise Justin Prior, I must admit: this technology could change the world.

For the worse, more than likely. What good will facial recognition technology do in the wrong hands? Stalkers, murderers, opportunists, sexual predators, they’ll all use the app in a way that Justin either didn’t intend or doesn’t care about. Milk Carton will not just bring lost children home, and everyone knows that.

Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m feeling generous tonight. Maxx took something from me today, so I will, in turn, take something from him. It’s a small thing, tit for tat. And you will not like it. But as a parent, we sometimes must do things that our children don’t like.

I’m still trying to figure out his aim when the next text comes, obliterating me emotionally, physically, mentally. Ruining me in a single sentence.

Tonight, you will have sexual intercourse with Maxx Wright.

Bile comes up in my throat, and I know before he even continues talking that I’m going to be sick. I end up on my knees in front of the toilet, retching over the bowl and throwing up nothing but feelings. I haven’t eaten in hours, not since breakfast this morning. My feelings were in too much of a tangle to eat.

Not only did I meet my biological father for the first time: I met the Seattle Slayer.

Gasping and choking, I pick up the phone to read the newest messages.

You will complete the act before the sun rises in the sky, or I will finish what I started. He took a piece of my dignity today, so I will take something from him. He values his virginity, and it now belongs to me.

I furiously text Justin back, tears brimming in my eyes. What I did with Chasm was one thing. It almost broke us both, but at least there was some … I don’t know, understanding there. Parrish already knew that Chasm liked me. That, and he wasn’t my sister’s ex-fucking-boyfriend.

You must really hate me, to turn me into a cheater like you. Why would you order your own daughter to keep having sex with guys?!

I can barely see through the haze of my rage. What if he asks me to sleep with some other random person next? Someone old or gross, someone I hate? What then? Will I do it? How far will I go?

The body is a tool to be used, princess. In this case, you will use yours to exact punishment. Perhaps you’ll learn to control your pawns in the future. As for the cheating, I was never the cheater.

Your mother was —with Dr. Paul Vanguard. Ask her about that next time you’re having a heart-to-heart.

He calls me almost immediately, and I answer, tears streaming down my face.

Parrish is sitting cross-legged on his bed, and he’s eating a meal. A real meal from a plate. He stabs a piece of broccoli and stares at it quizzically for a minute, like he doesn’t trust that it isn’t poisoned.

“Not that you couldn’t kill me anytime you wanted, you stupid fuck,” he mutters, and then he sticks the broccoli in his mouth and chews. A satisfied groan escapes him, one that makes my heart hurt. Tears prick his eyes and then he’s stabbing another floret with vigor, shoving it between his pretty lips and chewing so quickly that he almost chokes.

The call ends, and another text comes through.

I’ve been generous. More than generous. I have given Parrish these meals, asking nothing in return. But I very easily will poison this boy’s food. Or slit his throat. I’ve often fantasized about killing Paul’s firstborn son. It would bring me immense joy, princess. But for you, I stay my hand.

If privacy is a concern, fear not. Mr. Volli attends to these situations, and he is asexual. You are my precious daughter, and I won’t allow perverts to access you.

I just stare at those messages for a while.

I’m not even going to bother with that last statement; I can’t deal with that right now. I try to focus on something else to ground myself.

Tess was a cheater? She cheated on Justin with Paul? Even if she did, I imagine it was in the middle of Justin’s abuse. In no way do I blame Tess for that. Her ex is a literal murderer.

But … it also means that she lied to me.

Assuming, of course, that Justin is telling the truth. As Chasm suggested, it does seem to be a kink of his. Like, his morals are twisted but solid.

Like Maxx’s.

I groan and bring my knees up to my chest.

I don’t think I can do this.

Maxine, she’ll be devastated. I think of the overwhelming love in her eyes when she looked at X. How upset he was when he broke up with her. I think about all the things we said to each other tonight, about the possibility of anything happening between us to be nonexistent.

I think about Parrish and Chasm and how much I care for them both. I think about the way Parrish grit his teeth as he watched me and Chasm make love, how he threw the phone against the wall, the way angry tears pricked his eyes.

This is insane.

Beyond insane.

Justin Prior is fucking insane.

Now I’m certain that the skeleton key comes from the insane asylum. Why wouldn’t it? This man needs to be locked behind steel doors and evaluated by a team of specially trained psychologists.

I stand up and I start to pace, my mind whirling as I search for a solution, a trick, some wordplay that I can use the way I did when he told me to murder the bunny. I grab my phone off the floor, flush the toilet, and set it beside me while I brush my teeth and swish mouthwash around until I feel clean again.

Tonight, you will have sexual intercourse with Maxx Wright.

That’s … very specific.

I check today’s sunrise, just to see how much time I have.

Five-sixteen in the morning. It’s currently three-thirty. That … does not leave me much time.

I strip down and turn the shower on, removing my cup and cleaning it out before I put it back again. All the while, I’m plotting and planning, working things out in my mind.

Accepting the inevitable.

I consider playing with the rules a bit. What if we just did, like, hand stuff? Does that make it any better? Is it worth the risk?

Justin warned me against playing more word games with him.

I brush my hair out and head back into my room, my phone in hand. Never in my life have I wanted to call Maxine so badly. I miss her so much that it becomes a physical pain, this burning inside of me that chokes me up, that makes my eyes burn with tears.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I check the time again.

It’s nearly four. I’m running out of time. Should I call Chasm and talk this over with him?

I make the call before I can talk myself out of it.

“Little Sister?” he murmurs, voice groggy but quickly sharpening with alarm. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“He wants me to sleep with Maxx,” I whisper, and Chasm goes completely silent on the other end of the line.

“What?” he breathes, anger making the word roll off his tongue like a growl. “What do you mean?”

“Maxx took something from him, and he wants me to take something from Maxx.” I’m almost crying right now. A battle of morality wages inside of me, one that I’ve questioned over and over again since this started. How far will I go? How low will I sink? Is there any price that’s too great to pay to save someone you love?

Even if I hate myself, and everyone I know hates me just the same, Parrish will be alive. He’ll be able to placate Ben when he gets carsick; he’ll be able to play hide-and-seek with Amelia and Henry. He can hug Tess and save her from total emotional collapse. He’ll be here to walk across the stage to graduate high school with Chasm. He’ll be there for Maxx when he gets married to a girl that’s so much better than me. He can talk Kimber down from the edge.

“You’re kidding me?” Chasm whispers, and I hear his bed creak as he moves around. “What did he say exactly. Word for word.” I do him one better by screenshotting the conversation and sending it over.

“Make sure you delete those when you’re done,” I choke out, watching the minutes tick by. I really am running out of time here.

“Fuck. Motherfuck. Bitch. Fuck.” I can hear Chasm start to pace, his footsteps loud even through the phone. He starts muttering in Korean, and I just let him go. Five minutes later, he finally calms down, but he struggles to speak English the way he does when he’s really upset. “I … Why … Fuck.”

Well, not that word. He never forgets that word.

I almost smile.

Doesn’t happen, but the spark is there.

“Sunrise is at five. Chas, I don’t have a lot of time.” I’m practically pleading with him, but that isn’t fair. He can’t do anything to change these circumstances. “What do I do? What if … what if his demands just keep getting worse? I almost thought he was going to ask me to kill Maxx tonight. What if he tells me to sleep with someone I hate next? I … I’d do it for Parrish, but I’m going to lose myself in the process.”

Chasm is completely silent for a moment, and I hear his bed creak as he sits back down on it.

“We have to find him. Soon. This can’t wait anymore. I …” Chasm trails off. “If you don’t want to do this, Little Sister, Parrish would understand. He’d … he’d be okay with it.”

A choking sob escapes me, and I clamp a hand over my mouth as I close my eyes.

Am I worse a monster if I sleep with my sister’s ex than if I let the man I love die?

I’m not.

This is the lesser of two evils.

Oh, Maxine, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.

When my sister finds out about this, will she be able to forgive me? What about Parrish? What if he doesn’t want me when he comes back? I wouldn’t blame him.

“I love him too much to give up now,” I whisper, wondering what might happen if we actually find Parrish. Maybe then, it’d be better if I … if I just gave into Justin. I could agree to go with him, to do whatever he wanted me to do, so long as he left the people I love alone. Tomorrow, I’ll talk to him about that. I don’t have the time to have a long conversation now. That, and I might have more sway face-to-face.

He can let Parrish go, and I’ll move in with him. I’ll beg the judge to give him full custody. I’ll just give him what he wants, so nobody else has to hurt because of me.

“Little Sister,” Chasm starts, and I’m not sure if he’s crying, too, or if his voice is just thick with emotion. “Saranghae … doesn’t mean goodnight. It means …” He trails off, and now we’re both choked up and sniffling. “It means ‘I love you’.”

I squeeze my eyes shut tight.

“Nado saranghae means ‘I love you, too’. So … saranghae. I’m here for you, naekkeo . No matter what. This won’t change anything between us.”

“Thank you,” I whisper back at him, even though I know he’s lying. It’s impossible for this not to change anything between us, and we both know it. “Nado saranghae. ”

I hang up before I lose my nerve, taking my phone in hand and pausing as I realize I don’t have a condom. I need to find one, and quick.

I move over to my dresser, dragging the drawer open and finding a plastic bag with all the loose items from inside. There’s a condom there, one that I got during sex ed last year. There’s also a yellow sticky note stuck to it that I didn’t notice before.

I pull it out and nearly lose my shit when I read it.

Make safe and comfortable choices. I love you, Grandma Carmen

Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back and allow the emotions to run wild through me.

Safe and comfortable choices. It was a safe and comfortable choice when I was with Parrish. Chasm and I … I wanted that even if it was wrong, even if I refused to admit it.

Maxx … If he didn’t belong to my sister, I might’ve made this choice long-ago. I might’ve asked him out at the coffee shop. Might’ve dated him. Might’ve chosen to do this all on my own. Even now, my body reacts when I think about what I’m supposed to do, and I feel sick.

I’m not going to hate this, just as I didn’t hate it with Chasm.

That’s the worst part.

With soft footsteps, I pad into the hallway, testing Parrish’s door to see if it’s unlocked.

It is.

Whether because Maxx knows that locking the door is pointless against the Slayer or because he left it open in case I needed something, I’m not sure. I move into the room as quietly as I can, and then I pause beside the bed.

He’s asleep, shirtless and only half-covered by the blankets. With gentle fingers, I reach out and brush some of his dark hair back from his forehead. He stirs, but only a little, sighing and turning his head before falling fast asleep.

I put my phone on Parrish’s desk, positioning it in such a way that I know we’ll be seen enough for this to count, but not so much that I won’t be able to go through with it. I get that Justin doesn’t watch the videos himself, and he says that Mr. Volli doesn’t get off on them, but … it’s still horrible.

It’s horrible, and it shouldn’t be.

This should be fun.

It should be …

I move back to the bed, climbing in beside Maxx and lying on my back so that I can look up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. He stirs again, rolling over and wrapping an arm around me.

Almost immediately, his body stiffens and he sits up in alarm, blinking through the hazy gloom at me.

“Kota?” he asks as I keep my gaze on the ceiling. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

I close my eyes and breathe in his comforting scent, squeezing the condom in my right hand.

“Yes,” I say as he stares down at me in the dark, his face a shadow amongst shadows. “But don’t worry, it’ll be okay.” I turn over and then sit up. Before I can stop myself, I reach up with my right hand, sliding my fingers along his chiseled jaw in a way that I’ve wanted to since I first saw in him in line at the coffee shop.

I’m leaning forward for a kiss when X grabs my wrist in a firm grip and draws away from me.

“What are you doing?” he asks, alarm clear in his voice. “We just talked about this. I can’t, Kota. We can never be anything more than friends. You said you understood that.”

I take the condom and press it into his hand. He looks down at it and then up at me.

“Fuck.” Just that one word, as pretty falling from his lips as it is from Chasm’s. “What are you even doing? I told you: I’m saving it until engagement—”

“You shouldn’t have hit Justin,” I tell him, dropping my hand to my lap. “You really shouldn’t have done that.”

Maxx squeezes the condom in his hand, sitting beside me in silence. I can feel the tension between us, this sticky, hot longing that’s so taboo that I can barely put a name to it. Sleeping with my stepbrother was one thing. His best friend, another. This is … something different altogether.

“Tell me,” he commands as I look away, toward the phone on Parrish’s desk. Is Justin listening even now? How much time do we have? Not a lot, considering I came in here with about an hour to spare.

“Justin knows that your virginity is important to you. He said you took something from him today, and he wants something in return.” I look back at Maxx and, even though it’s dark, I can see enough of his face to watch as it falls to devastation. “You heard him: I need to choose my pawns carefully, control my own pieces on the board.”

“No,” Maxx breathes, and then he’s throwing his feet off the bed and standing. I watch as he storms around the foot of the bed to grab my phone. He comes right over to me, grabbing my hand and pressing my finger against the scanner to unlock it. This time, I don’t fight him. I just let him do it.

He stands there, reading the text messages, his body getting tenser and tenser by the minute.

“It’s four-twenty,” he whispers, his voice stricken. “It’s nearly sunrise.”

I sit up all the way, draping my arms over my legs.

“It’s nearly sunrise,” I agree, and watch as Maxx precedes to go through the same series of reactions that I did.

“I can’t do this,” he warns me, putting the phone back down on the desk. “Not just because of Maxine. Not just because of Parrish or Chasm. Dakota, you’re sixteen; I’m nineteen. I won’t do it.”

Oh. That thought hadn’t occurred to me.

Shit.

“Parrish is going to die,” I tell him, choking on the words. “You met that man today: does any part of you believe he’s bluffing?”

Maxx just stares at me, and then he turns and storms out of the room. I scramble out of the bed to chase after him, but he isn’t going very far. He ends up in my room, chucking my phone on the desk as he moves over to the wall of windows. I make sure to close the door softly behind us.

Maxx puts his palm up against the glass and looks out, at the very beginnings of a sunrise.

There’s just enough light for me to see his face by.

“We’re technically only two years and three-hundred and sixty-two days apart, that’s less than the four-year legal limit. There’s an age gap provision; you couldn’t be charged. It’s called a Romeo and Juliet law, and besides all that, the age of consent in Washington state is sixteen.”

He turns his head very slowly to stare at me like I’m a crazy person.

“First off, how do you know that?” he whispers, still clutching the condom in his opposite hand. “Second, do you think it was only the legal ramifications stopping me? It isn’t right. You’re in high school; I graduated last year. It’s not right.”

“Parrish dying isn’t fucking right either!” I snap back at him, cheeks and boobs flushing red. “And I know that because Danyella wrote up an opinion piece about age of consent; she thinks it should be a federal law rather than one that varies state by state.” I’m blushing so badly right now that my face feels like it’s on fire. “Don’t let the boy we both love die over your stupid morals.”

“Stupid morals? Not wanting to sleep with a sixteen-year-old isn’t stupid: it’s normal. Normal people don’t want to sleep with sixteen-year-olds!” He growls this out at me as I grind my teeth together in frustration.

“Chasm warned me about you,” I toss out at him, so frustrated that I could scream. “He said you had weird morals, and that once you decided something, there was nothing that could be done to change your mind. So I guess Parrish dies then. He dies because of you!”

I’m whisper-yelling which is totally a thing.

“Whoever said he was going to die?” Maxx snarls right back at me, stepping forward and fisting his hand in the back of my hair in a way that makes me gasp. He isn’t pulling hard, just putting pressure on my scalp in such a way that my body buzzes at the contact. “Do not wake up Tess. She’ll kill me. Literally. I won’t even have to worry about the Slayer.”

“You’re … you’ll do it?” I whisper, and then, because I’m an idiot, I add, “you’ll do me?”

Why did I say that? What a weird thing to say. Fuck.

Maxx blinks at me, licking his lips and releasing my hair so suddenly that I nearly stumble. He turns away from me sharply and stalks across the room, pausing briefly to flip off both phones.

“You’re a sick fuck,” he says, still clutching the condom as he flicks the lock on my door, and my pulse goes into hyperdrive. Maxx turns to look at me, studying me with a hungry gleam in his gaze that wasn’t there before. “To be clear: this is a onetime thing.”

He huffs out a breath and closes his eyes, turning away from me for a moment to catch his breath.

The angel wings tattooed down his back catch my attention. He’s so goddamn muscular. Like, his muscles are some of the stupidest muscles I’ve ever seen in my life. He looks like a fitness model or something. And those arms? Those calloused hands?

Every single impulse I’ve ever had toward Maxx ‘X’ Wright, the ones that I’ve tamped down through sheer willpower, the fires that I’ve doused over and over again, it all comes raging through me like an inferno.

When he turns back, I can see it. He’s decided. Actually, he knew right away that he was going to do this, didn’t he? He just needed a chance to process it, to explain himself, to protest.

There’s a strange sense of freedom in letting go of everything and giving in like this.

It’s inherently selfish, I think, to just release the world around you and take what you want. The thing is, Maxx and I aren’t hurting each other. We aren’t hurting anyone else. At least … not physically. Was Chasm hurting when I talked to him on the phone? Yes. Will Parrish hurt when he finds out? Undoubtedly. But they’d both make the same choice to save me, to save each other. I know that.

Maxx knows that.

“I like you in spite of everything,” he says, spreading one hand wide for emphasis. “In spite of Chasm and Parrish, in spite of … Maxine.” He takes a step toward me. “I see a young woman with a quick wit, and a hell of a lot of heart.” He touches the fist that clutches the condom to his chest. “This isn’t just going to be mechanical for me.”

“Or me,” I breathe, and then Maxx is closing the distance between us, lifting his eyes to the brightening sky in the distance. We’re running out of time. And fast. He sweeps past me, making me shiver with the heat of his body as it brushes past me, and he grabs the drapes, dragging them closed.

When I turn around, he’s just there, and he’s grabbing my hair again, dropping his mouth to mine.

Our first kiss is … impossible .

I can’t breathe; I can’t think. Everything else around me becomes hazy, like smoke. I can’t see it. I don’t care. The only thing in the world in that moment is Maxx Wright. My mind goes blank—whether because of the intensity of my attraction for him or because I just can’t bear to think of the implications, I don’t know.

Defense mechanism meets unrelenting passion, and then we’re stumbling back and I’m bumping against one of the posts of my bed.

His tongue is hot and vicious, almost controlling. But then I feel him pull back just a bit, clamp down on that urge to dominate. He doesn’t want to do that to me. I almost wish that he would.

And oh gods, his lips are so soft with one small exception: the center of his lower lip where he bites it on occasion. I decide to bite it for him this time, grazing my teeth over the plump shape. He groans and pulls my hair a little harder, his tongue diving deeper.

A warm sound escapes his lips, feathering against my own. Very male, very possessive.

Oh.

This is what he’d want if he had me all to himself, I imagine. Too bad for him that’s not an option.

But we can play a game. Just for tonight. Some fucked-up fairy tale that should never see the light of day.

“Quickly,” I tell him, and he groans, putting his forehead against mine. My fingers come up, almost tentatively, and he reaches down, cupping them in his hand and then pressing them firmly against his chest. He’s as careful of my splinted fingers as Chas is.

“Feel me,” he commands. “Touch me. All of me.”

I almost hesitate there; I almost break. I almost think of my sister.

“No,” he growls out, and it’s not a request. “Don’t go there. She and I, we never … we didn’t do things like this.” I pull back slightly, giving him the side-eye. I’ll do this because I have to, because Parrish’s life hangs by a thread. But I will not be lied to.

“Bullshit. You never kissed her? Never made out?”

He shakes his head violently.

“No. Because I don’t trust myself.”

“You don’t trust yourself?” I ask, trying to understand, to imagine how they could’ve dated for months in college and never once kissed each other. “What do you mean?”

He pulls back enough to stare at me.

“Do you want me to show you?” he asks, his grip on my hair tightening just a little. Oh. Is this what he’s talking about? I swallow past the emotions, my body tingling, flickering, dancing. I feel like I’m glittering, on the inside and the outside.

He wants to take charge.

And I don’t care because then I can pretend that I’m not orchestrating this mess.

“Do it,” I tell him, letting my gaze drift toward the closed curtains. “And hurry.”

Maxx releases my hair and picks me up. I let out a small sound, my legs going around him automatically. He crawls onto the bed with me still clinging to him, and I have to say, I’m impressed.

“You’re strong,” I whisper as he kneels there on the bed and looks down at me.

“Mm. The wet weight of my bike is like, two hundred and fifteen pounds. So, like, a hell of a lot more than you.” He tosses me into the pillows, and I let out another small gasp.

“Wet weight?” I ask as Maxx puts his palms on either side of me. We make eye contact, and that zing goes through me all over again, just like the one I felt initially inside the coffee shop. My heart aches; my soul aches. This is the worst sort of betrayal for Maxine, for Parrish, and yet it’s all that I can think to do to save them both.

If Justin kills Parrish, will he stop there? What if he kidnaps Maxine next?

No, I have to find Parrish, and then I have to surrender to Justin completely.

My soul shatters to pieces and tears prick my eyes. I blink them away, hoping beyond all hope that Maxx doesn’t notice. He doesn’t need me weeping for his first time; that isn’t fair to either of us. Especially not when the touch of his hand makes my back arch and my eyes flutter closed.

He runs his palm down my waist, and my lower stomach muscles clench tight.

But still, knowing that I might have to give up my life to save everyone else’s is terrifying.

As long as there’s sunlight in the sky, I’ll plot against Justin, work secretly to find a way out, a solution to this monumental problem. Still, it feels like I’m running on borrowed time here.

And it hurts.

“Wet,” Maxx says, drawing his eyes down my body. I wish we had more time to examine each other, to get comfortable with one another’s bodies. But both of our moral posturing and hair pulling has taken all of that time away. We must be running short right now, pushing this moment down to the wire. “Means with fuel.”

“Right.” The word is short and sharp. Everything inside of me feels pulled taut—both physically and emotionally. I’m liable to break. This … this release should help, although it’ll come at a massive cost to both of us. “It also means … other things.”

X lets out a sharp breath, dropping his head down and closing his eyes again. I can see that he’s struggling, but I can’t let him do that, taint his first experience that way. My hands slide up, fingers curling over his shoulders. He’s so goddamn hard—his chest and arms and shoulders I mean.

Although …

I squeeze him a little more firmly around the waist, drawing our bodies together until I can feel other parts of him that are just as hard as his upper body.

He’s quivering now. All over. His body is hot and slicked with a thin sheen of sweat.

“Other things,” Maxx murmurs, and then he’s sliding the hand that’s on my waist underneath my shirt. His rough palm makes my body prickle in all the right ways, and I can’t hold back a gasp as he makes contact with my breast, squeezing hard.

My hips buck up against his of their own accord, and he clenches his jaw so tight that I can practically hear his teeth clacking together.

“Are you wet, Dakota?” he whispers, so quietly that I barely hear it. I can’t decide if he’s teasing me or if he’s … well, unsure? But no, that can’t be. Not Maxx Wright, Mr. Confident and Outgoing.

“Even though I shouldn’t be, I am,” I whisper right back.

He removes his hand and then carefully, slowly, helps me out of my shirt. It gets tossed over the lamp on my nightstand and then Maxx is covering me with his big body again, kissing the breath out of me with sure, confident strokes of his tongue. I knead his muscles with my fingers, delighting in the perfection of his body.

He asked me to feel him, didn’t he? So I do. I feel him all over, trailing my fingers down and then smoothing my palms across his taut belly. He makes a slight growling sound that has the fine hairs on my arms raising up in warning.

Is he about to do it, to show me what he was so afraid of unleashing before?

He pulls away from me, grabbing onto my sweatpants, and yanking them down my hips, my underwear going right along with them. These, too, join the shirt atop the lamp. I don’t even think he means to do it.

Maxx stands up suddenly, moving over to the phone on the dresser and checking the time.

He curses under his breath, turning around and, with a long exhale, shoves his sweatpants to the floor, kicking them off as he moves back toward the bed.

I’m gobsmacked. Absolutely gobsmacked.

He’s … very, very pretty. Also, muscular everywhere. His hips have that gorgeous ‘V’ that drives girls nuts. Also, um. He’s … big.

He notices me looking and pauses beside the bed.

“Everything okay?” he asks, but not like he thinks it won’t be. Just like he’d love to hear confirmation. I lift my gaze up to his face, but he isn’t smiling. Neither of us is smiling. This has become something so much more than a simple exchange between two people.

It’s changed from the impossible to the imperative.

“How much time do we have?” I ask instead, and he licks his lower lip again.

“Thirty minutes.”

Maxx climbs back on the bed and opens the condom. He doesn’t seem to have any trouble putting it on, but who would? It’s not exactly a difficult process.

He leans down and kisses me again with a deep, heavy sort of longing, one that makes me squirm beneath him.

“I’m sorry that your first time has to be like this,” I whisper against his lips. He takes my hair in his hand again, but then relaxes his grip, massaging my scalp with his fingertips.

“I’m not.” He adjusts our bodies so that he’s lying between my legs, the condom-covered tip of him brushing against me and making me gasp. “I just wish we didn’t have to rush it. That we didn’t have to feel guilty. That you’d chosen me, and I’d been brave enough to choose you from the get-go.”

I have no idea what, exactly, that means, but then he’s kissing me and thrusting in hard and deep enough that I gasp against his mouth. Our lips and tongues work together fervently as his muscles tighten up and he shudders like he’s just experienced the most amazing thing in the entire world.

Me.

Not the sex, not my body, but me.

“X,” I breathe, and he shudders again. His right hand grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head. He lifts up to stare at me, and I forget about everything else. It’s just us, doing something we’ve wanted to do all along—even if neither of us was brave enough to admit it to ourselves.

“Kota.”

He keeps my wrists pinned and then starts to move, slow at first, which is helpful, because he’s thick. I make myself breathe nice and easy which is good because after just a few thrusts, X is pushing into me so hard and fast that my head spins.

Pleasure twists up inside my body, making my muscles tense, and I’m forced to turn my head to one side to bite down on a pillow. Now my body’s just as slick with sweat as his, and it feels way too hot in this damn room.

“Is it terrible,” he whispers, slowing after a few hot and heavy moments, “that I want to do this meanly, just so you’ll never be tempted to do it again?”

“That’s ridiculous,” I reply, but I can barely talk. Words seem damn near impossible.

X doesn’t seem bothered by that, pulling away from me, out of me. I let out a choking sound of protest, but then he’s grabbing my hips and flipping me over. He grabs one of my pillows and offers it up to me.

“For your hips.”

When I make little move to do anything with the pillow at all, he takes it and pushes it beneath me, propping me up. I stay where I am, on all fours, and close my eyes, taking slow, calming breaths.

He grabs me with one hand, guiding himself to that aching pulse between my legs, and driving all the way in with a single thrust. It feels so different like this, so much deeper, so much more intense.

I drop down so that one forearm is pressed into the bed. With the other, I reach between my legs, intending on working my clit with my fingers. What I find is the strange sensation of Maxx’s body pressed into mine, the two of us melded together in the most intimate way possible.

Maxx grips my hips with both hands, and then he starts to thrust again, fast and furious.

I manage to make my rebellious fingers—those very same rebellious fingers that refused to open the door inside Maxx’s Jeep at the party that seems so damn long ago—work against my clit. Just a single touch, and I’m falling apart.

It’s too much.

I bite my lower lip—again—but it seems appropriate for the moment.

“Oh god, Kota,” he chokes out. “Don’t do that to me.”

Whatever it is that I’m doing, I have no control over. I rub my clit harder, faster, and that pleasure begins to break like a wave. Maxx curses, and then he’s grabbing my hair and yanking on it hard enough that I actually come up to all fours again, my palms pressing into the mattress.

He rides me furiously, slamming me into with so much vigor that even without my fingers on my clit, I come apart. I shatter. I melt. I let myself have him in that moment. Maxx is mine, and nobody else’s. We live in a fantasy world where we become a couple, and everything is bright and beautiful—even if this moment is dark and twisted.

I’m groaning, even though I’m trying not to, and I’m worried the sounds are too much.

Maxx tightens his hold on my hair and my hips, pushing deep enough that he must feel the cup inside of me. I should’ve warned him about it, but it’s too late now, and I don’t care either way. He lets out a sharp, hot sound and then collapses forward, releasing my hair and slamming his palms atop mine just in time to keep the full force of his weight from pinning me to the bed.

He curls the fingers of our right hands together, squeezing hard; he’s surprisingly gentle with my injured left hand, even now.

“Shit, the condom,” he murmurs, and then he’s reaching down and gripping it so that he can pull out. I let my tired body collapse on the bed, too worn out to even move as Maxx gets up to dispose of it.

On his way back, he checks the time and then moves over to the window to look outside.

We’re facing the west, so it’s a bit difficult to see the sunrise from my windows, but there’s definitely a decent amount of light outside.

“What time is it?” I whisper, studying the dark angel wings on Maxx’s back. Parrish’s work. I’ve been scratching at and digging my fingers into Parrish’s art. Goddamn it.

“Five-ten,” Maxx says, turning back around and grabbing his sweatpants from the floor. He yanks them on, and I get this sick, nervous feeling when it seems like he might leave. He doesn’t though. He actually climbs back into the bed with me, curling up behind me and sliding his arm around my waist. He pulls me against him with a possessiveness and a need that I’m not sure we can do anything about, that we can’t assuage. “Was I too rough?” he whispers against my ear, but I shake my head.

“Not at all.”

For a while, we just lay there together. Him in his sweats, me naked. After a minute, X helps me adjust myself so that I’m beneath the covers. He joins me, resuming his position. His body is warm and hard and big, and I love the feel of it pressed into me.

Even though I shouldn’t.

Even though this cuddling stuff isn’t part of the deal; we don’t have to be doing this. Parrish is safe. For now, anyway.

I close my eyes and breathe in that fresh grass and sporty citrus scent.

“God, this is gonna be weird,” he murmurs, putting his face up against the side of my neck. His breath fans across my skin and makes me squirm a little. “Why did I think I could do this and just …”

“Just what?” I ask, turning enough so that we can look at each other. Maxx’s gorgeous eyes bore into mine, and my heart begins to race. If we had another condom, we might … But we don’t. And we’re not going to. We’re not.

“Just do this once and let you go,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “God, I didn’t expect to feel like this. I mean, I thought I might … but I didn’t want to.” He closes his eyes and shoves the fingers of his right hand through his hair.

I turn my face back toward the dresser because I can’t look at him right now. And I can’t comment on what he’s saying. I don’t have words to respond to that in a way that’ll make this better for either of us.

Maxx puts his arm around my waist again. When his palm slides down my belly between my legs, I let out a small gasp, but I don’t stop him. He presses his fingers against my heat, and I close my eyes, relaxing back against him.

He rubs and strokes and caresses me until I’m biting the pillow again and writhing against him. Then he sticks two fingers in, and I come apart all over again, shivering and trembling as another climax tears over me. It’s too much. It feels too good. I can’t take it anymore.

I grab his hand and put it back against my belly as I struggle to catch my breath.

He presses a tender kiss to the side of my head, and I keep my eyes squeezed tightly shut. This isn’t supposed to be about feelings. This was … it was an assignment. And yet, it doesn’t feel like one at all.

Just as it didn’t with Chasm.

Chasm.

I carefully slide out from beneath Maxx’s arm, even though it kills me, even though there isn’t anywhere in the world I’d rather be in that moment.

I grab my clothes off the floor, snatch my phone, and slip into the bathroom.

Right in the nick of time. Well-played, my protégé. Well-played. Get some sleep. We have much to do today.

I’m tempted to throw the phone against the wall, the way Parrish did the other day. But I know that I can’t. Instead, I put my clothes down and nestle the phone atop them, showering and changing my cup yet again. I don’t hurry out of the shower either, taking my time and wondering if Maxx won’t be gone by the time I get back.

It’s probably better that he is.

Because I can’t think around him.

Actually, I won’t allow myself to think at all right now.

It isn’t worth it, to let my mind wander like that.

Once I’m out, dried off, and dressed, I call Chasm.

“Is it over?” he whispers as soon as he answers the phone. “Is he … is Parrish alive?”

“He’s alive,” I reply with a small sniffle. But I won’t cry. Because I didn’t hate what happened. I only hated that I was hurting people I cared about when I was doing it. “He’s alive.”

There’s a long, horrible moment there where I’m imagining all the awful things that Chasm might think about me.

“Anything you want to know, I’ll tell you,” I promise him. “Anything.”

Another pause.

“Was it … did he … was he a gentleman?”

“Not really,” Maxx replies, and I nearly drop my phone in surprise as he comes up behind me.

“You better not have hurt her,” Chas growls out, but I’m already shaking my head. Then I remember this isn’t a video call, and he can’t see me. When I glance up and catch sight of my reflection—dark eyes, green and black hair wet and hanging in loose waves over my shoulders, my lips swollen and slightly red, I’m glad. I look like someone who’s just had a night of good sex, and I don’t need Chas to see that when he isn’t the one who’s giving it to me.

“He didn’t hurt me; it was … I’ll tell you about it later,” I add, deciding that this might be easier in person. Maxx watches my face in the mirror, standing tall and gorgeous behind me, his dark hair mussed, his shirtless abdomen a testament to his time spent on the track.

“Maybe not,” Chas replies finally, and then he sighs. “I’m exhausted. I’m sure you guys are, too. Just … get some sleep. We need to hit that list of places hard. Don’t expect to get a lot of rest for the remainder of the week.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” Maxx says, his eyes half-lidded as he continues to watch me. His words are playful, but there’s a heaviness to this morning that we can all feel.

“Don’t talk to me for the rest of the day, okay? I know it isn’t your fault. Just … I only want to talk to Dakota.” Chasm hangs up before either of us can respond, and I sigh, pulling up Justin’s text so that Maxx can see it.

“Guess we saved the day, didn’t we?” he asks, but there’s not a lot of joy in his voice. “Or … I guess we just undid the mistake I made when I punched Justin.” He puts his hands on my shoulders and kneads my flesh with strong fingers, making me shiver. It feels damn good to be touched like that. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” I tell him, turning around and finding myself in the circle of his arms. He rests his hands on my hips as I look up at him. “You were … that was your first time. I know you were saving yourself until after you were engaged.”

Maxx licks his lips, playing with the small bite mark that I left there. Hopefully nobody will notice or, if they do, they’ll think he did it to himself.

“I’m worried about how intense I can get. Not just physically—through there is that. I really tried to keep it contained tonight.” He sighs and sweeps some of my hair back behind my ear. “There’s an intensity to the way I feel about people. I get swept up. I get overwhelmed. I commit hard and fast. Even as a kid. Just ask Chasm or Parrish what I was like when I was eleven.” He offers a small smile, but it’s different than his usual ones. “Kota, I …”

“Maxx, don’t.” I push away from him, taking the phone with me back into the bedroom. One look at the mussy covers on my bed, and I’m flushing all over again. He comes right out of the bathroom to stand behind me, putting his hands on my hips and pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“I’ll leave, because I know Tess will be up soon. But … we should talk later.”

“Why don’t we talk after we get Parrish back?” I quip, because it’s the easiest way to put distance between us when all I want is for him to hold me. I glance back and flip some hair over my shoulder, forcing a smile. “It’ll happen soon. I know it; I can sense it.”

X studies me with a careful expression before nodding and then stepping away again. He glances back one, last time before opening my bedroom door and disappearing into the hallway. Massive anxiety floods over me, and I find myself obsessing over that last night with Parrish.

Our lingering goodbyes, our goofy smiles, the fresh love brimming between us.

“Fuck.” Now it’s my turn to use Chasm’s and Maxx’s favorite word. I put my phone back on the charge pad, crawl into bed, and fall asleep much faster than I expected, worn out and well-loved at the hands of Maxx motherfucking Wright.