After a quick round of rock-paper-scissors between Maxx and Chasm, it’s agreed that I’ll ride with Maxx and Ben while Chasm takes Kimber, Amelia, and Henry home. The younger kids are so excited, it’s like Christmas when they burst in the door of the Vanguard house, laughing and screeching and racing around. Even Ben is participating. Well, okay, he follows his younger siblings with a smile and keeps adjusting his glasses, but he’s there. He’s happy.

We all end up sitting together in the living room/kitchen area while Maxx whips up something quick to eat and feeds the kids. Chasm and I stay seated at the table together, observing Kimber as she curls up in a chair and scrolls her phone while the other three immerse themselves in a game on the large TV above the fireplace. I can’t lie: it makes my fingers twitchy.

It feels like it’s been eons since I had time to game properly, I think, biting on my lower lip.

“Hey,” Chas says softly, drawing my attention over to him. My Maxine-phone lies in the center of the table, screen black, just waiting for Justin’s next message. “It’ll be alright. We got Parrish back; we can do this again.”

“I know we can, but … what’s the endgame here?” I ask, reaching out a hand to touch his. He stiffens up slightly, and I remember the way Parrish’s eyes landed on our entwined fingers earlier. Chasm tightens his mouth into a thin line and then grabs my hand in a tight grip, brushing his thumb over my knuckles.

In a video game, the word endgame means a lot of things. It can be the final boss, it can be the content that happens after you’ve completed all of the game’s preset challenges, it can be the player versus player action when you achieve the highest level.

In a game of chess, it’s the final stage when forces are reduced, and there are few pieces left on the board.

In the world of fandom, it’s the final relationship between the characters, the one that works out at the very end of the story.

In the dictionary, it simply means the final stage of an action, plan, or progress.

So. What is Justin’s version of ‘endgame’? Where are we going with this? What does he want?

Me.

Okay, so that’s an easy one. But how? What does he want for us? To rule Medina together? To work on his app together? To kill people together?

I shiver.

“We’ll get this figured out,” Chasm promises as Maxx moves over to the table, dressed in the same apron from the other day. He sets two plates down in front of us, and I smile.

Crepes again. This time, he’s put the chocolate-hazelnut spread and sliced strawberries inside, rolled them up, and decorated the tops with fresh whipped cream and a drizzle of melted chocolate.

“Thank you, Maxx,” I murmur, losing my voice for a moment as I pick up my fork and do my best not to panic. Nobody will understand it; it’ll only make me look like a crazy person in front of the Vanguards. Justin is already trying his hardest to turn me into a total asshole in front of everyone I know. It won’t help if I add to that narrative.

“You’re welcome,” he tells me, taking a seat across from me. Chasm is on my left, at the head of the table (Paul’s usual spot). “But you can’t just pick at it. You have to actually eat.” He cuts his crepe in half and slides it onto his fork. He manages to easily put the entire thing in his mouth, letting his eyes go half-lidded as he chews. “Damn, I was hungry,” he murmurs after swallowing.

Chasm looks down at the food. Based on his facial expression, I can see that he’s just as hungry as I am, but probably also just as nauseous. He wants to see Parrish again. Me, too. Haven’t we been separated from him long enough?

But Maxx is right. We can’t be serial killer fighting teens if we don’t eat.

My lips quirk in a smile as I slice my own crepe up with the edge of my fork.

“Our story would make a really good manga. Or an anime. A video game.”

“It’d make a really good book,” Chasm offers up, and I go terribly still. My mind strays to Tess, to the beautiful words she weaves with her fingers, a goddess of stories, a keeper of sanity, a purveyor of tales. I force myself to keep moving, putting that first bite between my lips even as my stomach roils.

As soon as it hits my tongue, I groan, and Chas gives me a look.

“You can’t be making sounds like that anymore,” he chastises, turning his head away from me. “Not when Parrish comes home.”

I pause with the food still in my mouth, staring at him. He looks back to see my gaze and frowns softly. We’ve been saying that for so long—when Parrish comes home, when he gets back, when we find him —but now it’s happening. It’s everything that the three of us wanted.

It also comes with challenges.

What are we supposed to do about our strange relationship? How am I supposed to tell him that Maxx and I had sex? That I’ve been lovey-dovey with both boys, and that I’d keep on doing it if I could.

But, if it comes down to choosing, I … Parrish was first. I wasn’t lying when I explained that to Chasm. Parrish was the first of the three that I met, and the one I spent the most time with. It was impossible not to fall in love with him when our doorways are thirty-six inches from one another’s.

“Eat,” Maxx commands, but he isn’t talking to me. He points at Chasm’s food and lifts his brows. “Before it gets cold.”

“Yes, sir, ” Chasm replies with a roll of his eyes, and I stifle a smile by looking down at my plate. My eyes keep flicking to my phone, but I know that Justin will call when he needs something from me. He has no incentive to simply torture or kill Maxine; that won’t help his cause.

That’s how I keep myself relatively calm, by repeating that mantra, by remembering the obsessive gleam in his eyes when he looks at me. His princess. I stab a piece of crepe with extra force and both boys pause, watching as I chew it angrily, and then throw back a drink of the ice water Maxx gave me earlier like it’s Jägermeister, and I’m at Antonio’s house party all over again.

We eat together in relative silence. Even with the kids’ game blasting loudly from the TV, it isn’t safe to continue a private conversation with them and Kimber in the room. And if she just happens overhear the wrong thing, we’re in big trouble.

She would not be a useful pawn, not at all.

Maxx is browsing his phone while he eats, and my stomach drops when he pushes it across the table toward us.

Milk Carton Isn’t Available to the Public Just Yet—and it’s Already Saving Lives

The news article turns my blood to ice as I drag the phone forward, scanning the rest of it to see how much of Parrish’s story has already gotten out.

“Somebody leaked something—intentionally, of course,” Maxx says, before I even finish reading the article. He’s right, that’s for damn sure.

The boy sat shivering in the back of an ambulance, alive and relatively unharmed—but only because his face, analyzed and placed into Milk Carton’s advanced facial recognition database was scanned in through various videos posted to a popular social media app known as TikTok.

I sigh and give the phone to Chasm. He reads the article over and shakes his head, passing it back to Maxx.

“What a clusterfuck,” he snorts, shoving hair back from his forehead and then frowning at his hand when some of the black spray dye gets on his fingers. He wrinkles his nose and wipes his hand on his very expensive slacks like they’re blue jeans or something. “Some publicity stunt. Kidnap a kid and then save him all in one go.” He lowers his voice to the barest murmur and then attacks his food with the single-minded intent of someone who knows they have to do something, but really doesn’t want to.

“I wonder what Parrish’s story is,” I muse, finishing the last bite of crepe and pushing the plate aside. I don’t have to keep my voice down this time; it’s a genuine question. What is he telling those FBI women? What story will he give them, and why? He doesn’t necessarily care about Maxine; he could just tell them the truth right now.

But he won’t.

Because that would hurt me, and he knows it.

Tess sends us an update shortly after, letting us know that they’ll be headed home soon, and my stomach twists into impossible knots.

Together, the three of us tackle the kid duties, putting Amelia and Henry to bed after they drift off on the sofa, setting Ben up in his room with a book, and … well, there’s not much we can do with Kimber.

“I’m waiting here until he gets home,” she declares from her place on the couch, even though nobody asked or tried to get her to do anything otherwise.

I wait near the front door like a crazy person, the way Tess probably waits for me every time I go with Justin, pacing a rut in the marble floor.

The boys are right there with me, leaning against the wall and waiting just as impatiently as I am.

When the front door does finally open, and I see him step through with bandages on his chest, and a fresh pair of sweats hanging low on his hips, I get a little dizzy.

“Hi,” I say as he pauses in front of me, just as arrogant and pretty as he ever was. No, no, more so than he ever was. I feel like I need another good idiom here: absence makes the heart grow fonder. It also makes it ache, makes it bleed, makes it long and burn and rage.

“Gamer Girl,” he murmurs, just as Tess and Paul sweep in behind him. Tess closes and locks the door, hitting a few buttons on the alarm, and then turns back toward us. I’m a bit disturbed at how easily Chasm disabled the alarm on the other house, but then again, he is the son of the company’s CEO. It makes a certain sort of sense.

“You’re home,” Tess whispers, touching the side of Parrish’s face. He allows it, but I can see that she’s been doing this continually since we separated at the ambulance. It’s going to be bad for a while; she likely won’t let him out of her sight to take a piss. “We got you home.”

“We got him home,” Chasm murmurs, and I elbow him in the side. Parrish notices, and his lush mouth twitches with the faintest whisper of a smile. He lets his gaze drift up toward the high ceiling and then glances over as Kimber comes padding out of the living room to stare at him.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she says, and Parrish exhales.

“I’m glad I’m back, too,” he admits, and the sound of his voice, it just carves out little spaces inside of me, nests there, becomes a part of who I am. It’s like what Maxx told me before, how I carved out a space inside his chest. Same deal here.

“What happened to you anyway?” Kimber asks, and Parrish’s eyes narrow.

“Kimber Celeste!” Tess snaps as Paul puts a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“We don’t have to talk about any of that right now,” he says softly, and Parrish nods. “You deserve to have the opportunity to rest before being grilled.” Paul frowns and adjusts his own glasses, like an older version of Ben. “Not that Agent Takahashi seems to care about that.”

“Tell everyone, I don’t care: I was held in a basement by the Seattle Slayer. He sliced me up and filmed it. I don’t know anything else. So stop asking me.” Parrish rubs his right hand up and down his left arm, looking at the rest of us like he’d do anything to have a private moment together. We all need to talk—desperately so.

Also … what did he just say?

Parrish blinks at me, and I can tell he wants me to stay quiet. Trust me, his expression says, and because I do, I stay still and remain relatively calm.

“Would you like something to eat?” Tess asks, hovering on Parrish’s left side. “I could whip you up some eggs and bacon? Or we could order in?”

“I made crepes,” Maxx suggests, and all eyes turn his way. “I could fix up some plates?”

“I’d really like to go upstairs and lie down,” Parrish says, and Tess nods, but the worry that creeps into her features makes me nervous. Parrish was kidnapped from inside his bedroom; she isn’t going to feel safe leaving him in there.

“Let’s go get you settled, shall we?” Tess suggests gently, and Parrish gives a tender yet irritated sort of look in response.

“Mom, I know you’re happy to see me, but I can actually make it upstairs by myself.”

She gives him a look that’s nearly identical to the one he just gave her before letting her gaze swing toward me, Maxx, and Chasm.

“You want a minute with your friends, I can understand that.” She doesn’t sound like she understands that, but she’s making an effort, so that’s worth something. “Let me check the security cameras first; I want to make sure everything is running smoothly.”

“There better not be a camera in my room,” Parrish drawls, like he’s bored as hell. Only, I know that isn’t it at all. Being a lazy, tattooed sloth is his defense mechanism in the same way Chasm pretends to be a bad boy player. Or how Maxx gets irrationally angry. We all have our habits.

“There will be because I’m putting one in there tonight,” Tess tells him, and he gives her a look like she’s just slapped him.

“I’ve had a camera on me day and night for weeks,” he chokes out, and some of that practiced insouciance slips a little. He gives Tess a petrified expression, but one that’s quickly verging on anger. “I would love to not be filmed for all of five seconds.” He throws an arm out in the general direction of the garage as Tess exchanges a long look with Paul before turning back to her son. “You have like, three full-time bodyguards prowling the property; there are cops near the gate.” He readjusts his attention as his arm falls by his side, looking at the three of us instead. “They can sleep in the room with me. Can’t kidnap four of us in one go.”

I mean, Justin could, but I won’t mention that.

I stay quiet.

Tess looks pained. Paul looks annoyed. Kimber, however, seems satisfied.

“Glad to see you haven’t changed much at all.” She starts to walk by before pausing in front of him. She hesitates, waffling back and forth like she can’t quite get her body to commit to something her heart already knows it wants.

“Just give me a hug and stop being weird; I’ve only been gone for three weeks, you ass-wipe.”

Kimber gives Parrish another big squeeze before pulling away and dashing past him up the stairs. He watches her go with a sigh before dropping his attention back to me.

“She’s been a total bitch while I’ve been gone. Tell me I’m wrong about that; I’ll wait.”

“Parrish,” Tess chides gently as he moves over to the stairs with her following behind. He puts one hand on the banister and glances back, pleading with his eyes for us to follow him. “Honey, I’d really like to spend some time with you.”

“And I’d really like to have a minute to myself.” He pauses and his lips twitch slightly. “And by myself, I mean with my friends.”

He pounds up the stairs before Tess can stop him, and I swing around the banister to follow, Chasm and Maxx hot on my heels. I can hear Tess sighing from behind us, but she either has to tell Parrish blatantly that his wants and needs don’t matter as much as hers do, or else she has to let him go.

At the top of the stairs, Parrish stumbles a bit, putting his palm flat on the wall to steady himself. His breathing his slightly labored, but I’m guessing that the hospital wouldn’t have released him so easily if he wasn’t doing okay.

“Hey,” I whisper softly, putting my hand on his left shoulder. My fingers tingle when they make contact with his skin. “Are you okay?”

His eyes snap open and he reaches back, grabbing my wrist and yanking me down the hall toward his room. He pauses as soon as he steps inside, turning his head slightly to the right and then narrowing his eyes on GG.

“Why the actual fuck is there a rabbit in my room?” he asks, pulling me even further into the bedroom and then frowning down at the cage. He even cocks his head slightly to one side. “I’m guessing this is Dakota’s doing.”

“Actually, it was—” I start, just as Chasm and Maxx come in, and the door swings shut behind them. I don’t get the chance to finish my sentence because Parrish turns around and captures my face between inked fingers. His beautiful honey and hazelnut eyes stare down into mine, and then he’s kissing me.

If I thought the kiss between us through the wine cellar’s door was powerful, this one blows it away. It’s unfettered and desperate, begging to be returned. No, more like demanding to be returned. His lush lips consume mine, his tongue sweeping a dangerous arc inside my mouth.

I’m powerless in that moment, trapped in the white-hot light of his affection, of his need, of all the tangled emotions left inside him from being held a prisoner for so long.

My fingers find his shoulders, curling around them and digging my nails in. He still feels pretty muscular, maybe even more so? I’m wondering if he didn’t spend a lot of his free time in that room working out. Not much else to do, I’m guessing.

We stumble back until my legs bump up against the footboard on his bed, and the moment goes from dangerous to lascivious in a single heartbeat.

A knock sounds at the door, and Parrish breaks our kiss with a scowl, leaving me breathless.

“Open this door—now. ”

It’s Tess. She’s given us about three and a half seconds of privacy.

Chasm and Maxx watch the pair of us with completely inscrutable expressions. Even if I could unwind the myriad emotions traveling through their gazes, I wouldn’t do it. I don’t want to know. Not right this second.

Chas waits while Parrish brushes the glossy wetness from his mouth and then reaches over to do the same to me. When Parrish’s thumb brushes over my lip, I shudder, hating the coldness I feel when he steps back to put space between us.

Chasm unlocks and opens the door, stepping aside to reveal Tess standing there with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Door open, please,” she breathes, shaking out her hands like she’s struggling to flick away the worst of her fears. This poor woman. I’m not without sympathy for her, really. I’m not. I’m sure she has PTSD at this point. Seeing the door closed and locked was probably triggering as hell. Still, I’d love some time to not only kiss Parrish but talk to him.

We need to get on the same page in respect to, well, everything.

“I know you want some alone time, and I understand that, but please do this one thing for me.”

“Yes, mother,” Parrish replies, but not without sympathy. “We’ll keep the door open.”

Tess nods, letting her gaze sweep over the rest of us, still dressed in our outfits from Justin’s party. She hesitates in the doorway for a moment before taking off down the hall. I can hear her and Paul having a murmured conversation from here.

“Hey, Parrish?” Maxx offers, and he turns his gaze over to his friend. “Can I show you something real quick?”

Parrish’s eyes narrow to slits and he nods, watching as Maxx holds out his hand. Chasm offers up his phone, and I do the same, giving over both phones to him and waiting as he disappears into my room for a moment. I’m not a huge fan of leaving my phone while Maxine is with Justin, but he told me to ‘enjoy my reunion’, and we’ve seen what happens when he doesn’t like the direction of my interpretations.

Maxx returns with the bug detector, and Parrish frowns hard, flicking his eyes in the direction of Paul and Tess’ voices. They must be in her office now, but with the door open. We won’t have much privacy, but I’m not complaining because …

Parrish grabs my hand and pulls me close to him again, resting his hands on my hips. He lets out a long sigh, his wavy chocolate hair fluttering around his forehead. It’s a bit longer now, but just as sexy. I can’t resist reaching up to dig my fingers into it, and he shudders, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close so that he can tuck me under his chin.

“All clear,” Maxx declares, tapping the device against his palm. “We can talk now if we’re careful.” He pushes the door so that it’s mostly closed. “There’s a new camera in the hall, between your bedrooms.”

“And one on the roof,” Chasm remarks with a tired sigh, taking out a cigarette and staring at it with longing. “Guess Dakota’s bathroom is my new smoke spot.” His mouth twitches into the realest smile I’ve seen in weeks as he lifts his amber eyes up to his friend. “I’m glad to have you back, bro.”

Parrish snorts, stroking his hand over my hair. He yanks on one of the pins, pulling it out and tossing it onto his bed. He continues with his work, using both of those gorgeous, gorgeous hands of his to free my hair and then combs it loosely with his fingers. There’s enough product in there to destroy the ozone layer (just kidding, the hairspray was CFC-free), but still.

I’m looking up and into his eyes, thrilling at his touch, wishing I could have more of it.

I have a feeling he’s thinking the same thing.

“You were sorely missed,” Maxx agrees, and I glance back as he leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze drifting over to GG. “Do you like our new bunny friend, who so happens to be named Gamer Girl? He’s a boy, by the way. I know because he humps me every chance he gets.”

“Also, he jizzes on him,” Chasm adds, lifting up the unlit cigarette for emphasis.

“No, he does not ,” Maxx replies, and the two of them give each other faux glares.

Parrish seems quiet, contemplative, as he swings his almond eyes over to the rabbit’s cage. GG is sniffing the air, whiskers twitching, pink eyes shiny in the half-light from the bedside lamp.

“Want to tell me how you acquired said bunny? And then named it after my girlfriend?” Parrish asks, sliding his hands down my back. He’s looking right at me, like he wants to hear my explanation of the situation.

“It’s just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to things we need to tell you,” I start, and that’s when the nervousness hits me like a freight train. Parrish knows about Chasm, but he does not know about Maxx. “I’m not sure how much you know about what’s happening, but after Justin stopped asking you to give me directives, he was just texting orders to me.”

“Orders to follow or he would kill me?” Parrish clarifies, and I nod. He exhales sharply and tucks some hair behind my ear. “You really should’ve let me die.”

I ignore that, but Chasm doesn’t. He scowls and moves over to stand beside us, pointing at his friend with the cigarette.

“Don’t even get started with that shit. You know what she tried to do for you, right? She offered her life up in exchange for yours. And I was mad then. I’m getting furious now. Self-sacrifice is annoying. Don’t suggest stupid things.”

He turns away and moves over to the window, shoving it open and then peeking his head out to see where, exactly, the camera is located.

“You tried to what? ” Parrish hisses, but I brush him off, putting my hands over the bandages on his chest and frowning.

“Justin—that is, my biological father—asked me to leave a dead a bunny at the bottom of its cage. I fucked around a little and had Chasm bring me a frozen bunny from the pet store, like the ones people purchase to feed large snakes.” I exhale as I stroke my fingers down his bandaged chest and he reaches up to capture my hands in his, frowning when I cringe a bit over my broken fingers. I missed him so much, those sunburst tats on the backs of his hands, his inked fingers, his smile, his smell, his voice, his … everything. “So we brought this one home.”

“He asked you to kill a rabbit?” Parrish asks, his voice cold and angry. If he’s this mad now, wait until he hears what else he asked us to do.

“We named it Gamer Girl in your honor,” I tell him, knowing I should probably give him some space but unable to pull myself away. Parrish doesn’t want to let me go either, it seems.

That, at least, puts a small smile on his face. It only lasts for a second before slipping away, and then he’s pulling back from me. Parrish grabs my hand again and leads me over to the bed. He crawls on first, giving a small groan of pain as he settles into the pillows, and then offers his hand out again, drawing me close to him.

Maxx sits down on the end of the bed while Chas tries to figure out how to smoke without getting caught by Tess.

“Your sister is safe for now,” Parrish says quietly, listening for Paul’s and Tess’ voices from down the hall. We can’t hear what they’re saying, so we should be okay as long as we’re careful. “The Slayer gave me two options: tell the full truth if I wanted, and let Maxine die. Or, I could tell the authorities what he wanted me to tell them, and she’d be safe so long as you kept following his orders. I chose the latter.”

“He wanted you to tell everyone you were held captive by the Seattle Slayer?” Maxx clarifies and Parrish nods. He keeps staring at me. That’s when I realize that he still thinks of us as, like, a couple. I have to tell him about Maxx. Tonight. Before anything happens between us; Parrish has a right to know what he’s getting into.

“He did. But just the parts I mentioned downstairs. Nothing about the video calls or the masked man or anything else. Just that.” Parrish sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. “He’s testing us. He wants to pit us against each other.”

“Why do you think that?” Maxx asks softly, staring down at his lap before looking back up at Parrish. We both agree with Parrish, but I think X just wants to get his friend’s perspective on the matter.

“Why ask Dakota to …” Parrish trails off, his eyes flicking over to Chasm. Poor Chas. He goes completely still before turning slowly around to stare at Parrish. Their eyes meet, and the energy in that room is intense enough that it sucks all of the oxygen right out the window. I find that it’s suddenly hard to breathe. “He wanted to me to squeal and get your sister killed, that’s what.” Parrish scowls, the expression so menacing that I actually reach up and touch the side of his face to calm him down. He shudders and snatches my hand in his, closing his eyes so tight that his face scrunches up. “Before we talk about anything else, I just need to know how many times you … the pair of you …”

“Three times,” Chasm murmurs, looking down at the floor. He finally gives up on the cigarette, slipping it back into his pocket and then moving into Parrish’s bathroom. When he comes out, he has a pair of black metal rings in his palm. I think about that night where I helped him change out his lip rings, and my heart breaks all over again.

“Three times,” I agree, and Parrish shudders again, eyes still closed. “But we kissed and touched and flirted much more often than that. Justin said to ‘act on our feelings’, and he didn’t like that we were being standoffish about it. He kept threatening to hurt you.” My voice breaks, and I look away. Parrish keeps my hand against his face, and I can feel him trembling slightly. Whether that’s from exhaustion or pain or jealousy, I don’t know. “There’s something else I have to tell you.”

“Can it wait? I’m processing a lot,” he says, but it can’t. I look up and meet Maxx’s eyes, but his face hardens, and I can see that he’s about to beat me to the punch.

“Parrish,” he starts, and my stomach drops. This is going to hurt. It’s going to hurt so bad. I hate this. I hate Justin. “Justin asked us to do something else that you’re not going to like.”

Parrish opens his eyes to stare at his friend, his face that of a prince looking upon a duke that’s unsettled the careful balance of his court.

“Tell me,” he commands, and Maxx exhales, looking back toward the door.

“This is all on me,” Maxx starts, but I’m already shaking my head.

“That isn’t true,” I interrupt, but X cuts me off.

“Yes, it is. It is because I fucked up.” He turns fully to look at Parrish, and my admiration for him grows even more. He isn’t afraid of the truth. As hard as it is to give it sometimes, it’s the only acceptable option in Maxx’s world. “I punched Justin Prior in the face.”

“Wait,” Parrish starts, lifting up a hand. “You’ve met him? Like, in person?”

“He technically has full custody of Dakota,” Chasm inserts, and Parrish’s eyes go wide.

“He fucking what ?” he snarls, but that’s a whole other part of the conversation. We have hours of catching up to do, at the very least.

“I punched him without thinking. He just kept taunting Dakota, making her hug him, calling himself daddy . I snapped.” Maxx scoots a little closer and Parrish starts to get wary.

“What’d he want in retaliation?” he asks, his voice strained.

“He gave us until sunrise that night,” I begin, trying to cut Maxx off. I should be the one to tell Parrish. But X’s green eyes war with me and he blurts it out before I can stop him.

“He made us have sex with each other,” Maxx whispers, and Parrish’s entire body goes still. “So we did. It wasn’t easy on either of us although I can’t deny that I enjoyed it. Or that I like Dakota.”

Chasm groans, slapping his hand over his face.

“Your honesty is so annoying sometimes. Ease him in, you idiot.”

Parrish looks over at Chasm and then over at Maxx and then … down at me.

“How many times?” he manages to grate out, but his voice is a honed blade, deadly and sharp.

“Technically once,” I start, maintaining eye contact. “And then he fingered me after …”

“Fuck.” Parrish shoves up from the bed and starts to pace. He runs his fingers through his hair and then pauses with his hands on his hips, dropping his head down. His body is laced with tension. His eyes when he lifts them up again are dark with rage. “Fuck. I told you. This is what he wants.” Parrish throws out a hand to point at me. “He’s trying to strip Dakota of all her allies; it isn’t going to work.”

“Are you upset?” Maxx queries, and Parrish spins on him.

“Am I upset ?” he hisses out, getting close to the bed and leaning down to put his palms atop it. “Of course I’m upset. I’m fucking furious. I would love nothing more than to punch both of you right now, just to get it out of my system.” Parrish stands back up and glances over at Chasm, clearly indicating that when he said ‘both’, he meant the boys.

“I was a part of this, too,” I start, but Parrish is shaking his head rapidly.

“No. This was the Slayer’s fault. Every bit of it.” He starts to pace again. “It won’t work.” Parrish nibbles his thumbnail and recognition sparks in me. Is that where I picked up that habit? I stifle an inappropriate smile.

“We’ve been a little … lovey,” I admit, wanting him to know the full scope. “Me and Chasm. Me and Maxx. There were consequences to not being lovey, but that isn’t the whole story. We all like each other.”

Parrish pauses, his gaze on the matte black walls of his room. He turns very slowly to look at me and then storms over to the bed, grabbing my hand and yanking me up. I’m surprised by the strength in it—pleasantly surprised—and I stumble a bit as I try to keep up with him.

“Back me up if Tess shows up?” he offers as Chasm gapes at him.

“What are you—” he starts, but then Parrish is pulling me into the bathroom and pushing my back against the door.

His mouth descends on mine, hot and possessive, the fingers of his left hand curling around my wrist. He breaks the kiss but only after we’re both gasping for breath, sliding his right hand up the wall to flick the switch for the bathroom fan.

“I know I haven’t been gone very long,” he whispers, looking away from me, hurt etched plainly into the beautiful lines of his face. “But it feels like an eternity. The three of you have developed something without me; I feel like a stranger.”

“No,” I whisper, but he isn’t wrong about everything, just the last bit. “Everything I did, I did for you. I would never have touched Chasm or Maxx otherwise. But I can understand if you don’t want to continue what we started—”

I stop talking because the look that boy turns on me is reminiscent of the scathing ones he used to chuck my way at Whitehall, when he was telling me I was crap in bed while we were both virgins.

“Don’t ever suggest something like that again,” he declares, releasing me and standing up straight. “Did you hear anything that I said to you? Either in the basement that night or before, during, or after sex?”

My cheeks flush, but I hold his gaze as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Your everything is beautiful, ” I murmur, because I could live a hundred more years of this life and never forget the things Parrish said to me. “Trust me, I’ve thought about it every day since you went missing. That morning, when I woke up and you were gone, I was worried you might’ve left because of what we did.”

He’s already shaking his head, putting his palm on the door above my head and leaning in toward me.

“Never. How do you think I stayed a virgin until now? Because I’ve never met a girl that I wanted to sleep with before. And trust me: many have tried,” he adds dryly, and my mind strays to Lumen.

Oh.

The item she slipped into my hand!

But now isn’t the time to ask Chasm to take a look at it. We’ll get there, but first … this.

“Are you sure you still want me after …” I trail off, shaking out my hands. “I devirginized both of your best friends.”

Parrish’s face gets pale, and he turns away, like his emotions are about to get the better of him.

“They’re both good guys,” he murmurs, glancing back at me. “But it killed me to watch you and Chasm in that video. You weren’t just fucking because you were told to; it was more than that.”

I hold his gaze and give a sharp nod.

“It was. Did you know that night, after I left you, I found a vase full of sunflowers in my room? He was coming to confess his feelings. Instead, he gave us condoms and walked away.”

Parrish stares at me for a minute, and then nods.

“I know. He said as much to me in Korean.”

“I know about that, too,” I admit, and Parrish sighs again, stalking over to the shower. He turns it on and then spins back to face me.

“I’m having a really hard time with this, I won’t lie to you.” I nod at his words, because he has every right to feel that way. “But there’s one thing that I know for absolute certain.” He covers the distance between us in a few, careful strides, capturing my face again and brushing his mouth against mine. “While I was gone, all I could think about was you. How much I missed you. How angry I was that our time together after that night was stolen. We deserved to have that. I could barely sleep that night. All I wanted was to go in your room and touch you again, talk to you.”

He kisses me again, and that pretty glass heart of mine throbs painfully in my chest.

Parrish pulls back, that aristocratic face of his carved up into a thousand different emotions.

“I thought about all the things that I’d say to you in the morning, all the places I’d touch you, the ways I’d kiss you. And I practiced my speech for Tess.” He puts a hand on his chest. “Because I meant what I said: I’m going to tell her everything.”

Fear skitters across my skin, but at the same time, it’s accompanied by a surge of affection for this boy. He was so worth it. Every terrible moment. Every sickening second of angst. So fucking worth it. I’d do it all over again. And I will, if I have to, in order to save my sister.

Maxine, please be safe, I think, reminding myself that Justin won’t hurt her because it will ruin his ultimate plans. That is, to have me in his life. It makes no sense and, as psychotic as he can be at times, he’s a very careful, very meticulous monster.

“We’ll give her … a week or so to get used to me being back.” Parrish glances to the side again before turning back to me. “I’m not sure if I can keep my hands off of you any longer than that. If we don’t tell her, she’ll figure it out just by watching me.”

“Tess was destroyed without you,” I admit, and he shudders. “She barely ate, barely slept. She alternated between being cold and distant and emotionally destroyed. Are you sure you want to do this? We can keep it a secret if you want.”

“I’m sick of secrets,” he admits, gritting his teeth. I can’t say I disagree with that.

“I’ll leave you alone so you can shower,” I tell him, and he gives me a look.

“No, you won’t.” Parrish steps back from me and then pauses, as if he’s just thought of something. “Wait here.”

He scoots me away from the door and opens it, walking out to stare Chasm in the eyes.

I’ve never seen the other boy look so … well, not like a black knight riding into battle with full armor. He looks like an unsure seventeen-year-old for the first time in his life, amber eyes flicking back to catch on mine.

“Can we just pretend that it never happened?” Parrish asks, and Chasm goes completely still. Maxx, he pauses with one hand inside GG’s cage, glancing back to stare at us. He doesn’t look any happier than Chas does. “Dakota and … the two of you. I appreciate everything you guys did for me, I really do. But that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt. I just want to forget about it.”

I step up beside him, but I’m not sure what to say.

What’s the right move here? Do I speak up for Chasm and Maxx? Do I side with Parrish for now, seeing as we just got him back? Do I tell them that my feelings for the three of them are more confusing than anything I’ve ever experienced before?

I hate Justin, don’t get me wrong. And the situation with him is intense. But it isn’t confusing. I know exactly where I stand on those matters. This, on the other hand, is not so easy to parcel out.

“Is that what you want, Kota?” Maxx asks softly. Parrish curls his hands into fists, but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move. Chasm is still staring at me.

“I care about all three of you,” I admit, even though the words grate past my lips, scraping them like sandpaper, making them bleed. Parrish glances my way and then back over at Chasm, at Maxx.

“Is that … not an option?” Parrish asks, his voice tight and unreadable. He spreads his hands. “Is it over for me? Have I been gone too long to make this work?” He looks back at me with a crestfallen expression that cuts me to the bone.

“I’d be lying to you if I told you I could forget about the things that happened with Maxx and Chasm while you were missing. But I’d also be lying if I said I wanted things to change between us.” I stand there, unsure of what I’m even asking. If it’s even fair for me to ask anything of him at all.

Maxx hands over a carrot to GG and then carefully steps back, closing the cage door before turning around. Chasm slides his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket, frowns, and then withdraws a tiny square of paper.

It’s the item that Lumen slipped me at the party. As if he’s looking for a distraction—any distraction at all—Chasm unfolds it and reads the message before offering it up to me. I step forward and take it, ignoring the surge of fire in my hand when our fingers brush together.

We need to talk. Meet me in the hedge maze on Monday after school.

My blood goes cold.

“Lumen,” I murmur, and Parrish’s body gets tense.

“Don’t tell me that fucker made you sleep with Lumen, too?”

I lift my gaze up to meet his.

“Definitely not,” I tell him, clutching the note in my hand. I knew it; I knew something was going on with those girls.

“Lumen’s posse kicked the shit out of Dakota and broke her nose,” Chasm explains as Parrish’s eyes get wide. He vaguely heard of the attack on one of our video chats, but I’m certain he never got any details. “Broke two of her fingers, too.” Chas gestures at me, but I’m not wearing my splints like I’m supposed to. I ditched the gloves and the white fur wrap long ago, but I’m still wearing the bloody princess dress—and the tiara. “Things have been bad since you left, Parrish. Veronica and her buddies whipped out a bunch of utility knives on us out back of the hedge maze.”

“You better be fucking with me?” Parrish growls out, clenching his hands into fists. He closes his eyes and forces himself to exhale, sweeping his hands over his hair. “Let me guess: Whitehall is falling apart without me?”

“As always, your majesty,” Chasm drawls back, with just the right amount of humor.

Parrish opens his eyes again and drops his hands by his sides.

“I’ll handle it,” he declares, but I don’t see how. Tess is unlikely to let him finish the last week of school out. “I see that we have a lot to catch up on.”

He pauses suddenly, turning his head to the door, and we all stop talking as Tess’ heels approach and she knocks lightly, peeking in the door. She’s holding something in her hand; it looks a bit like a first aid kit.

“Just checking on you,” she says, and Parrish forces a smile that reminds me of my own.

“We’re just making small talk, to keep me calm,” he says, and her eyes crinkle with love and worry. “It’s weird to have been gone for so long; I feel like I missed out on a lot.”

Tess’ attention turns to me and Chasm for a moment, and I’m sure she’s thinking about the condom the authorities found, about my confession that I was ‘sleeping with’ Chasm at the time. How now, I actually am sleeping with Chasm.

“It’s okay, honey. It’ll take time to readjust. What matters is that you’re here, you’re safe.” Her eyes fill with tears, and she moves into the room again to give Parrish another hug, one that she holds for so long that he starts to get annoyed.

“Mom,” he murmurs, and she finally releases him, smoothing his hair back and then looking over at the bathroom. Steam is rolling out from the shower and drifting into the bedroom.

“Are you showering? I can reapply your salve and bandages when you get out. Also, did you take the antibiotics they gave you at the hospital?”

“I did. And the pain pills.” Parrish gestures at me with a tilt of his head. “Dakota is going to help me put the salve and bandages on after; I’m good for now.” He takes the first aid kit from Tess’ hand and tosses it onto the bathroom counter before returning to his spot near the doorway.

Tess gives me an odd sort of look in response, and I resist the urge to shiver.

She isn’t going to take the news of Parrish and me as a couple very well at all.

“Okay, well. Please leave the bathroom door unlocked. I won’t bother you, but I’d like the option of being able to check on you anyway.”

Parrish sighs heavily and gives her a two-fingered salute.

“Yeah, okay.”

Tess drags herself away with obvious effort, leaving the door wide. Maxx moves over and adjusts it back to a sliver again, peeking out to make sure she’s gone into her office before he returns back to the open area beside Parrish’s gaming chairs.

The four of us stand there in awkward silence.

“Give me a chance to recoup what I lost,” Parrish murmurs, looking down at the floor. He glances up at Chasm, at Maxx, and then over at me. “Give me some time. If it doesn’t work out … we can all try to woo you and best man wins.” His jaw clenches, but he hides his anger well.

“You don’t need time to recoup anything, Parrish,” I tell him, putting my hand on his arm. “My feelings for you haven’t changed.” He looks at me before turning his face toward his friends again.

“What about Maxine?” he asks, directing the question to, of course, X.

X grits his teeth, but he doesn’t look away.

“Maxine broke up with me before anything happened between me and Dakota. She wouldn’t give up on the notion that something was happening to Kota, and I had to discourage her. She didn’t like that, so … Anyway, she knows about us.” He gestures at me with his left hand. “I told her everything. It’s completely over between us—permanently.”

“Hmm.” Parrish’s brow crinkles. He can tell he’s missing a lot of the story here. “I knew you had a thing for my Gamer Girl. I could tell right off the bat.” He gives Maxx a dark look, one that his friend returns without flinching. “And you …” He glances over at Chasm who exhales and then spreads his hands in a placating gesture.

“I was honest about it from the beginning,” he admits, and Parrish scowls at him.

“Who has the biggest dick?” Parrish asks abruptly, and I flush all over, tits included. It’s a very obvious sort of blush in this stupid dress, too.

“Uh, what?” I choke out, but I am not about to answer that question. It’s bound to make at least two people even angrier than they are now. “That has nothing to do with anything. If it were just sex, this would be easy. I would say thank you, Maxx; thank you, Chasm. Then I’d move on. This isn’t that.”

Parrish snorts and swipes a hand over his face.

“We all know who has the biggest dick anyway,” X jokes, and both of the other boys give him dark looks. “It goes without saying, I think.”

“You’re not any nicer now than you were in high school,” Parrish tells him with narrowed eyes. “So stop pretending. Have you seen him at his worst yet?” He glances over at me and my gaze locks with Maxx’s.

“I have. He went full asshole on me and Chasm when he thought we were keeping secrets about you from him. He also organized search parties and spent all night and all day for a week searching for you.”

That softens Parrish somewhat, but he still isn’t happy.

“I don’t know what to do about this. I’m … it’s a lot to deal with.”

“Let’s not talk about this for a while,” Chasm suggests, glancing at me again. His heart looks like it’s breaking, like he feels second place all over again, second choice, a backup plan. None of that is true, but I’m not just going to be able to tell him that with words. Actions, only. But how? How do we do this? “Let’s finish school up so we have one less thing to worry about and focus on Maxine instead. Once she’s safe, we can … talk.”

“I’m okay with that if Kota is,” Maxx says, studying me. He stares at me like he’s simultaneously my last and first choice all at the same time. “We can revisit it later, after you’re caught up, and we’re caught up, and … well, of course, Maxine is the most important thing.”

“Right now, it’s just me and Gamer Girl.” Parrish looks over at me, and I glance back at him. “Is that okay? You and me, dating. Like we would’ve been if I hadn’t …” He trails off, and my throat gets tight with emotion. If he hadn’t gone missing, I’d have never experienced the things I did with Maxx and Chasm. Would that have been easier? Harder? I don’t know. I can’t imagine not having shared those moments with them now that they’ve happened.

“I’m okay with that,” I tell him, deciding that a single week isn’t a big ask whatsoever.

“Will you go to prom with me?” Parrish asks, surprising me. “Unless my days are all screwed up, or if Whitehall’s cancelled it, it’s still happening on Friday, right?”

My eyes drift to Chasm’s, and his nostrils flare, but he gives a slight shake of his head.

“That’s a good idea. You two should go to prom together.” He exhales and turns back toward the window, sliding his cigarette out again and lighting up, making sure to angle himself just right so that the newly installed exterior camera won’t catch him smoking. If Tess—or anyone else—is watching the feed right now, they’ll likely assume that it’s steam from the open bathroom door.

I hesitate briefly, squeezing Lumen’s note in my hand.

Another idiom comes to mind: trapped between a rock and a hard place.

Fuck.

Parrish gives Chasm an odd look before turning back to me.

“If Tess lets you go, I’d love to go with you,” I say, my voice breathy and soft. Chasm doesn’t look back at us again, but I can tell that although this is killing him, he’s willing to do it for Parrish. If he is, then I am, too. Parrish has been through a lot; he nearly fucking died. And none of this is fair to him. He didn’t have any say in these matters anymore than we did.

“Tess will let me go,” he says breezily, waving his hand around dismissively.

“Are you two going to—” Maxx starts, gesturing at us. “Be intimate with each other this week?”

Parrish stares at him, then looks at me, waiting for my answer.

“I hope so,” he adds, voice getting husky, breaking into emotional shards that cut and bleed. “Hopefully right now.”

“Right now?” I query back, but I’m not against it. I’ve wanted that since I first saw him on the other side of the wine cellar door.

“If you still want me,” Parrish adds, and Chasm makes a noise, climbing out onto the roof with his cigarette, camera be fucked. He moves to slam the window closed, but not before leaning through and adding his two cents to the situation.

“The sexual tension between you two is making me physically ill; just bang it out already.” He pauses. “There are condoms in my bag.” He points to its location on the floor before retreating, scooting to the edge of the roof, and continuing to smoke.

“I don’t really get a say in this,” Maxx says, sighing heavily. “You two decide what’s best for you.” He offers me a look as he moves over to the door and peeks into the hallway again. “Better be quick though. Tess will be down here soon enough to check on you.”

I study X’s back, all of that tension in his muscles, and I make a choice.

I can’t please all three of them at once, at least not right now. Parrish has been missing. He almost died. He needs me. I want him.

All of those things are valid.

Parrish and I look at each other, and then I bend down and flick Chasm’s bag open, fully aware of how weird—and how strangely sad—this entire situation is. Yet, I can’t get past the elated feeling of having Parrish here with us. I’m not the only one: I have a feeling that Chasm and Maxx wouldn’t be so nice if the situation were any less dire.

“I want you, Parrish,” I tell him as I rise to my feet, and he releases a deep breath. He grabs my hand, and we slip into the bathroom together. He slams the door behind me, and then his mouth is on mine all over again, his fingers sliding across the side of my neck and leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

His other hand cradles the curve of my waist.

“I don’t want to wait even a second longer, but I have to ask … what the fuck is this dress for?” Parrish pulls back, looking over my outfit with undisguised interest. “Also, I’m sorry that I bled all over it.”

“I would soak everything I owned in blood just to see you again,” I admit, looking down at my outfit. “This was Justin’s pick—we all went to the launch party for his new app tonight.”

Parrish seems more—rather than less—confused, but then he sets his mouth in a determined line and grabs me by the hips, parking me on the edge of the countertop. He leans in, even as steam drifts around his face.

“I dreamed about this,” he repeats, pushing the voluminous skirts up my legs and running his palms along my thighs. The soft white steam creates a barrier between us and the real world for a brief moment. It’s all an illusion, but I think we both need that.

We need to reconnect.

Desperately so.

“I dreamed about it when I was tied to that chair, when my vision got blurry and I couldn’t see straight, when my ears rang and eventually all sound cut off. I dreamed about it when my hands were numb from being tied up too long and I thought about just giving up and falling asleep.” Parrish puts his forehead against mine. “I don’t know what you did to get me that bed, to get me untied, fed, showered. Whatever it was, it isn’t unappreciated.”

“I felt like I was betraying you anyway,” I admit, brushing my mouth against his in a small, heated kiss. “That whole time. I felt sick about it. I still do. I feel even worse knowing that I didn’t hate what Justin made me do with Maxx and Chasm. Everything else was awful . But not that. The guilt I felt for you and Maxine was the only bad part.”

“If I say I forgive you, does that help?” he offers, as I dig my fingers into his hair again, closing my eyes and letting his addictive scent wash over me. “You forget that I know some of the things that bastard made you do. I know about the typewriter and the car; I know about the theatre fire. I can only imagine it got worse after that.”

Parrish brushes his knuckles across the front of my panties, and my breath catches sharply. I try to let my head fall back, but he threads the fingers of his right hand in my hair and brings our mouths together again.

He tastes so damn good. I’m not sure that I’ve ever tasted anything so perfect and so satisfying in all my life. Any and every emotion in the human repertoire lies between us: sadness, anger, trust, hate … love. When we said we loved each other over the video chat, it wasn’t just out of blind desperation and fear, it was deeper than that.

Parrish adjusts his right hand, slipping it beneath my skirts, and then pulls my panties down my legs and over the Chucks I put on while we were waiting to get him back. He gives the mismatched shoes—one black, one green—a look and a contented sigh.

“I missed this. Your quirkiness. Your political jabs. The way you barge into everything and destroy all my boundaries, and I don’t even mind.” Parrish tosses the panties aside and slips the condom from my hand. He stands up straight and shoves his sweatpants down, kicking them aside and slipping the condom on.

The only light that’s on in here is the one above the shower, just a single spotlight that illuminates the stall, but creates twilight dusk throughout the rest of the admittedly very large room. This bathroom is more than half the size of my entire bedroom back home with the Banks.

Although I may never think of this ice palace as home, there’s something about Parrish that says home. Something about Chasm. About Maxx. The three of them give me that feeling the same way that Maxine does, or the way my grandparents do.

I embrace that phenomenon as Parrish steps close to me again, his body warm between my thighs. The fact that he’s even here, that he’s even alive , makes me tremble with excitement. Who knew it could be such a turn-on to rescue the guy you love-hated for months, lost to an infamous serial killer, and then rescued in a dramatic, Agatha Christie-worthy fashion?

“I missed your rude, pouty mouth, and your stupid swagger, and the way you slit your eyes when you’re bothered by something or someone,” I tell him, and he lets out a satisfied chuckle near my ear, making me shiver. The feeling only intensifies when he grips my hip under my skirt with one hand, using the other to guide himself between my thighs.

He lifts his gaze up, his face limned in white steam and dusky light, and then he thrusts his hips forward, and we both groan in unison. My fingers clutch at his back, scraping over his bandages, as he squeezes my ass in both hands and drags my pelvis tightly against his, pressing us together.

“Gamer Girl,” he murmurs as our mouths come together yet again, tongues sliding against one another, hearts beating as we sit chest-to-chest for a moment.

“Pear-Pear,” I whisper, but it’s only half a joke. I’m far too wrapped up in heat and ardor to be anything but serious right now.

“You can call me that. You can call me anything you want actually. Maybe it makes me crazy, but you were the person that I missed the most.” Parrish starts to move, slow at first, but with increasing speed. It’s like he’s drowning all of a sudden, and I’m his only chance at getting air.

I keep my arms around his neck, my mouth moving against his, murmuring his name over and over again. I wish more than anything that we had all night to be together. I want to touch every part of him, just to make sure that he’s really okay. Trace his scars, memorize him. He might have them for life, but I don’t care. Because it means he made it; he survived.

The feel of his hips rocking against mine, of his body being inside of me, it’s incredible. I feel so much better already, being this close to him.

“Tell me you’re still mine,” he murmurs against my ear, and even if I don’t know how things are going to work out, I know this.

“I’m still yours,” I breathe back at him. “And you’re mine.”

He makes a sound that could either be assent or denial—you never know with Parrish Vanguard—and then he’s losing himself in me, moving harder, faster. His hands on my hips tense, leaving dents in my skin that make me squirm.

When he reaches that sweet, hot place of climax, he bites the side of my neck and groans at the same time. Stars flicker beneath my eyelids as I lock my ankles behind him, holding him close and tight as he finishes.

He slams one of his palms down on the counter, head low, breath fanning against my collarbone, and makes another sound, this one clearly built of frustration.

“I need more of this,” he mutters. “All night.”

I grab a handful of his hair and lift his face up to mine. My body feels like it’s shimmering, like I’m on the very edge of an orgasm. I want more, but I’m not sure we’re going to able to finish me off, let alone go all night.

A knock on the door makes us both stiffen up.

“Just told Tess that Dakota went in her own bathroom to shower. I took the liberty of getting you pajamas, too. Want to grab them?”

It’s Maxx.

Parrish narrows his eyes in frustration, sitting up and then slowly sliding out of me, all the while making eye contact. He slips the condom off and drops it in the trash—we need to remember to deal with that later—and yanks his sweats up.

By the time he opens the door, my ankles are crossed and I’m affecting the most nonchalant expression that I can. Maxx’s eyes slip right past Parrish to land on me, and I know he can tell. His jaw clenches, but he says nothing as he passes the pile of clothes over to his friend.

“Thank you,” Parrish tells him honestly, but with a slight strain in his voice that says that wasn’t easy for him. X gives a small wave and then retreats, allowing Parrish to shut the door behind him. “Get in the shower with me,” he says, and it’s not really a question.

He needs that.

I hop off the counter and he sets the clothing in my place, standing still and silent as I help unwrap the bandages from his chest, examining the wounds by hovering my fingers over them. Parrish snatches my hand in his and presses my palm against them, even as he shudders slightly with the pain of it.

“They’re not as bad as they look,” he tells me, but that isn’t true. He nearly bled to death. It’s just that someone—Mr. Volli, I guess—has been cleaning them and keeping antibiotic ointment liberally applied for the last few weeks. “They’ll heal—even if my ink is messed up.”

It’s true that the slices on his chest have obscured the beautiful art somewhat, but it isn’t less pretty for what it is now, it’s just beautiful in a different way.

“Let’s see how they heal up and then worry about them later. You never know; they may fade over time.” The first few tick marks are wider and more ragged looking; the new ones have tiny stitches that should help the scarring be less visible. Anyway, since Paul is a plastic surgeon, if they really bother Parrish, maybe his dad can help?

He takes the first aid kit, opens it up, and then pulls out a roll of what looks like plastic wrap.

“Here,” Parrish hands it over to me along with a spool of white tape. “I’m not supposed to get any of this wet.” He gestures at himself as my throat gets tight, and I nod, helping him to cover his wounds up and seal off the edges. “That should do it.”

Parrish nods and releases my hand, shoving his pants to the ground as I unlace and kick my shoes off before turning around and glancing over my shoulder.

“Zipper?” I query, and he steps forward, sliding the zipper down and then helping me shimmy out of the dress. Because of the corset-like fit of the top, I didn’t need a bra, leaving me immediately exposed. My panties, too, are already on the floor. Now, it’s just me, myself, and I, completely bare to him.

Parrish’s eyes flare with interest as he studies me, and then he reaches out for the shower door, opening it and waiting for me to climb in. I do and he follows quickly afterward, wrapping his arms around me from behind as the hot water cascades over both of us at the same time.

“Stay with me all night—even if we can’t have sex,” he whispers, but I have no idea how to make that work with Tess. I decide not to say anything to ruin that moment, closing my eyes and nodding as he kisses the side of my face.

We stay there for several minutes, the only sounds the pattering of the water and the combined exhales and inhales of our breathing. When Parrish releases me, I grab the bottle of orange Dial soap he has in there—for cleaning tattoos, most likely—and use that to lather up my palms.

“Want me to wash your back?” I ask and he nods, looking down at the nineteen perfect slices across his chest. They’re in two rows of eight with three ticks on the third and final row. Each one is about an inch in length, and the entire collection of them obscures nearly all of his chest. The plastic-like bandage stretches across the neatly stitched wounds, keeping them dry. It reminds me of the transparent bandages I’ve seen people wear over fresh tattoos.

Parrish turns around and I glide my soapy palms over him, enjoying the way he tenses and exhales, letting his head fall back in bliss. My fingers trail down to his firm ass, and he tosses a look back at me, not unlike the one from the very first day we met.

Apparently, I’m not the only who gets the reference.

“As if, Gamer Girl,” he says with a small smirk. “In your dreams.”

I throw my arms around him yet again, careful to keep my grip low so that I don’t disturb the wounds on his chest.

“I can’t believe how much I missed you,” I repeat for the fiftieth time. But it’s true. I did. We all did.

Parrish covers my hands with his, stroking my knuckles until I finally pull away. I finish washing his back and then switch out the soap for the shampoo, lathering his hair up, rinsing him off, and then adding conditioner.

“This is the greatest moment of my life,” he murmurs as I knead his scalp and then leave the conditioner to set while I take care of my own hair. Parrish turns around and gives me one of those pretty frowns of his, holding out his right hand in silent demand. “Give me the shampoo,” he commands, all lordly and shit.

I cock a brow.

“No.”

“No?” he queries back, cocking his head slightly to one side, his gaze sliding over my naked body. I shiver under his stare. It’s one thing to be nude and doing it under the covers in the dark. It’s a whole other to be standing under a virtual spotlight—a dim light, yes, but like one that’s right above my head—and having him study me the way he is.

“You just got home; you’re injured. No extra work for you.”

Parrish lets his head hang down for a minute, and then when he whips his gaze up at me, it’s resolute. He lunges and manages to snatch the shampoo bottle with one hand, grabbing my right wrist and pressing it into the wall with the other.

“Yes, your serial killer daddy imprisoned me in a cellar full of very expensive wine and tried to bleed me to death. For the next week,” he murmurs, leaning down and pressing a scalding kiss against the corner of my mouth, “I get whatever I want from you.”

He releases me and stands up, lifting his chin in that haughty way of his and squirting shampoo into his palms.

“Turn around,” he tells me, but it doesn’t feel like such a simple command when we’re both naked like this. I do as he asked anyway, even if I grumble about it.

“You should be resting,” I mumble as his long fingers dig into my wet hair, making me groan as he works out the sticky hair spray, rinses me, and then slathers the smooth, pearlescent conditioner through the green and black strands. I make a small sound of surprise when he wraps my hair around his fist and gives it a little yank.

“What if I don’t want to rest? What if all I want is you?”

“Then you’re going to be in serious trouble because Tess will come in here, whether you’re naked or not, to check on you at some point.”

Parrish grunts, but he doesn’t seem overly concerned. Instead, he rinses his fingers of the conditioner and then glides them down my bare belly. My legs start to tremble, and I put my palms flat on the wall.

He guides them between my thighs, brushing across the heated pulse of my clit and making my knees weak. Parrish’s body presses up against mine, pinning me to the wall. I can feel him hardening against me again, but we don’t have another condom, so we’ll have to look for alternative ways to entertain ourselves.

He leans down, pressing his lips to my shoulder and then brushing my hair away from my neck. That’s when he pauses, and since his pouty mouth is pressed to my body, I actually feel him frown.

“Who left these marks?” he asks, his voice ice-cold. I stiffen up, but then he slides a single finger between my legs and pushes it inside of me. My nails scrape against the white subway tile on the walls.

“Chasm,” I whisper back, and Parrish makes a sound of frustration. His mouth descends over one of the already sore marks, sucking on it and causing me to cry out. Too loud, Dakota. Not only is there Tess to worry about, but I don’t want either of the other guys to hear me.

Still, Parrish is determined. He seeks out every mark and scrape left by his best friend and then proceeds to cover it with one of his own. The single finger inside of me becomes two, sliding deep and hooking slightly to grant me extra pleasure. I reach down with my own hand, adjusting his so that when he rocks his hand, he rubs my clit at the same time.

“I know I should be grateful to them, but I’m just annoyed. You’re mine; I saw you first.”

I use my left hand to cover my mouth, just to stifle all of the sounds that want to come out. It’s too much, with the hot steam and Parrish’s even hotter body, with his hardened shaft pressing into my ass and lower back, his fingers inside of me. He continues to kiss and lick and suck while he works me up to that glittering stage all over again, encouraging my body to clamp around him.

The climax hits me so hard that I actually collapse. Parrish catches me around the waist with his left hand, leaving the fingers of his right one inside of me. He lowers us both to the floor and then leans his back into the wall, pulling me into his lap. He works me until my entire body goes stiff again, trembling in his arms, and then slumping back against him with a shuddering sigh.

Shit, his chest! I try to move, even though my languid muscles seem to be adamantly against it, but he won’t let me go.

“No. Stay here. Don’t be so stubborn.” He pulls me back against him, sliding his fingers out and then wrapping me with both arms.

“You’re an asshole,” I murmur, but then, we both knew that.

“You’re a brat,” he retorts, which is true. He allows me to ‘escape’ the hold of his arms, but I don’t go very far, turning around to look at him, his lean, inked body sprawled in the corner of the shower, one knee propped up, elbow resting against it. He toys with strands of his wet hair with his fingers as he watches me. Between his legs, he’s just as hard as he was before we ever got started.

Licking my lips, I scoot closer to him and reach down with my right hand, curling my fingers around him.

“Shit,” he breathes, letting his head fall back against the wall. “Please, Dakota; I need this.”

I reach up, hitting the screen that controls all of the shower’s fancy functions—yeah, I know, a computer screen inside a shower is weird; I just hope Justin can’t spy on us with it—and adjust it so that water isn’t falling directly over us anymore.

I hold my palm out for Parrish, just like I did in the basement room that day. He smirks at me, capturing my wrist and licking my palm, sucking on my fingers, clearly enjoying himself. I can barely breathe as I watch, shivering at the feel of his hot tongue on my skin. We’re going to be at this all week; I can already tell.

As soon as he releases me, I wrap my hand around the base of him and grip tightly, leaning in to kiss and suck on his lower lip. I work him with fast, hard motions, knowing that we’re really pushing the limits of time here. This is not how we want to be caught by Tess. No fucking way.

Parrish tries to pull me closer, but I resist. I don’t trust either of us not to make a mistake here. I should probably get birth control somewhere. The thought flits in and out of my head, and I file it away for later.

For now, I keep my grip firm, my pace even, until Parrish lifts his hands to grab my shoulders, digging his fingers in as I bring him to his own release. I sit back up, rising to my knees and reaching out to grab one of the movable shower heads. A push of a button activates it, and I use the warm water to clean him up.

He looks up at me, and we just sit there, staring at each other.

“I meant it,” he tells me, and my cheeks heat. I don’t look away though; I want to hear this. “When I said that I loved you.”

“I meant it, too,” I promise, and then we both jump slightly at another knock on the door.

“You guys are really pushing it: Tess is starting to get weird. Hurry up.”

With another scowl, Parrish leans forward, grabbing my chin and crushing his mouth to mine for another desperate, needy kiss. He uses the wall to stand up and then holds out a hand for me. We very quickly rinse the remaining conditioner from one another’s hair, turn the shower off, and hurry to dress ourselves and change.

Maxx has brought Parrish some white Whitehall Prep sweats and a matching hoodie. A school for innovators, engineers, and world leaders, it says on the back. Eye roll. For me, he’s retrieved … my Pokémon pants and a black tank top.

My lips twitch … until I see that he’s also brought me fresh panties.

Am I annoyed that he went through my underwear drawer?

No, not really. He brought me fresh clothes, even knowing that I was likely having sex with his best friend in the bathroom while he stood guard outside. If anything, my love and admiration for him grows substantially.

Parrish and I step into the room at about the same moment that we hear Tess’ heels clacking down the hall. His eyes flick back to the bathroom where my pink, bloodied gown lies on the floor in a heap.

“Shit.” He pushes me toward the bed, slipping into the bathroom and snatching the dress, my panties, and my shoes from the ground. He comes back into the room, drops to his knees, and shoves it all under the bed just before Tess pushes the door in.

Her eyes flick over to me, sitting on her son’s bed with my wet hair hanging around my face, and then over to Maxx who’s holding GG and leaning against the edge of the dresser. Chasm is sitting in one of the gaming chairs, fingers threaded together behind his head.

Tess smiles as Parrish rises from his crouch.

“How was your shower?” she asks, and he shrugs, slipping his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie.

“First shower in weeks where some creeper isn’t watching me through a camera,” he says, and Tess’ face twitches with a mixture of rage and sympathy. She pushes the former aside as she moves into the room, her eyes sweeping over the four of us.

If she only knew the things we were involved in …

“I’d like you to sleep in my room tonight,” Tess begins, and Parrish lets out one of those harsh, arrogant laughs of his, the ones he usually saves for people he wants to ‘bury’. You know, like he used to laugh at me. The sound doesn’t bother me anymore; I like it. I love it. That’s a problem, isn’t it?

“Mom, seriously? I’m seventeen fucking years old. I’ll be eighteen in January.”

“Which means you’re still seventeen for more than half a year,” she argues, her smile softening. “You’re still a baby.”

Parrish’s jaw clenches, and he shakes his head.

“I’m not sleeping with you. Don’t be weird, please.” He cocks his head in my direction. “My friends will sleep in here with me.”

“You can just as easily sleep on the couch in my room,” Tess argues as Parrish curls his hands into fists and shakes his head.

“No.”

Uh-oh. I look up at him, hoping he knows what he’s doing here. He must, I guess, since he knows Tess so much better than I do. I’ve seen him at work before. As protective as Tess can be, she also spoils her kids rotten. It’s a toxic mix.

“No?” Tess repeats, but I can see that she doesn’t want to get angry with Parrish right now. She missed him too much; she thought he was dead.

“We’ll sleep on the floor, won’t we, Maxx?” Chasm suggests, and Maxx nods, still stroking his hand over GG’s long ears.

“Mom, you need to relax,” Parrish starts which was very clearly a mistake.

Tess’ eyes widen and she moves into the room to stand in front of him, putting her hands on his shoulders and sliding them down his arms.

“Relax? Honey, I know you’ve been through a lot. I can hardly even imagine how scared you must’ve been.” She cups the side of his face, and he allows it, staring her straight in the eyes. With her heels on, Tess is almost as tall as he is. “But you were kidnapped from this room in the night. I cannot let you sleep in here.”

Parrish reaches up and takes her hand away from his face, but he doesn’t let go of it, giving it a little squeeze.

“I need to be in my own room,” he breathes back at her, his eyes widening. “I do not want to sleep on the couch with you and Paul.”

“Dad,” Tess corrects and Parrish sighs dramatically. He looks so tired all of a sudden. I mean, of course he is. I feel protective of him, standing up without realizing what I’m doing. Tess flicks a look my way, but then turns right back to Parrish. “I’ll sleep on the couch; your father can sleep in the guest room. You can have our bed.”

“You’re being weird,” Parrish says very slowly, very carefully. “Dakota is here; I am here. We are both here, Mom.”

Tess’ eyes fill with tears, and she starts to tremble, withdrawing her hand from Parrish’s.

“I know you’re scared, but it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” Parrish puts his arms around his—our?—mother and squeezes her tight. She grabs onto him, clinging and sobbing quietly as he keeps her wrapped up for several minutes. The rest of us do our best to disappear into the floorboards. I sit down hard on the bed and stare at one of the yellow faces peeping back at me from the fabric of my pants. “If you care about me, and how I’m feeling, and how scared I was, let me sleep in my own bed with my friends around me.”

“Parrish,” Tess warns softly, backing up just as Paul enters the room. He stands there with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes on his son. He’s much more attentive than usual, his gaze soft and caring in a way I’ve never seen it. Tess glances back at her husband. “He wants to sleep in here tonight.”

“We need to let him make that choice,” Paul tells her gently, and she frowns, glancing back at their son. “As long as Maxx and Chasm are in here, I don’t see why not.”

Tess sighs and takes a step back, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Okay, Parrish,” she says, and he lets out a small sigh of relief, pushing wet hair away from his forehead. “But only so long as your friends are here; you won’t be sleeping in here alone.”

She says that, but I’ve been sleeping in my room all alone this whole time. Kimber, too. Ben as well. Amelia and Henry share a room that’s connected to their parents with a huge Jack and Jill bathroom. I get it though. Tess knows that she’s fixed the security system, that there are extra cameras, extra guards, police officers, all of that. Logically, she understands the chances of Parrish going missing again are slim to none.

But still, she had one kid disappear for fourteen years and another for almost three weeks.

It makes sense that she’d be paranoid.

“I won’t be alone, not even for a second,” Parrish assures her, digging his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “Deal?”

“Deal,” Tess sighs, rubbing at her temples. “It’s nearly five in the morning; I know you’re all excited to see each other, but Parrish needs his sleep.” She glances at me. “Dakota, you should get to bed as well.”

“Okay.” It’s the only word I can get out. The thought of going back to my room all by myself is horrifying . I want to stay here. Maybe I should just sleep on the floor, too? I just won’t mention that to Tess right now.

She retreats reluctantly as Paul takes her by the arm, smiling over at his son.

“I’m so happy to have you home,” he says, and Parrish nods, his gaze impossible to read. He waits for them to move down the hall toward their own bedroom before creeping forward and very carefully closing the door until it snicks shut.

He turns around with his back pressed against it.

“She’s going to be pissed if she sees you’ve closed it again,” Chasm warns, standing up from the chair and moving into the bathroom. I can hear him opening the closet door. When he comes back, his arms are piled with fresh bedding.

“Yeah, well,” Parrish offers with a tired sigh. “I just need a minute. I understand where she’s coming from, but I want some space and privacy. Is that too much to ask?”

Maxx slips GG back into his cage as I stand up and Parrish casts me an annoyed look.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, and I cock a brow.

“Um, do you think I could get away with sleeping on the floor, too?”

Parrish laughs, pushing off the door to come around the bed. He stands in front of me and crosses his arms.

“No. You’ll sleep in the bed.” He points at it. “With me.”

“Uh,” Chas starts, exchanging a look with me. Parrish notices, and his face tightens up. “Tess will panic.”

“Not if we do it right.” Parrish reaches out and takes my arms in his hands. His gaze is laced with equal parts possession and affection. I imagine that I’m looking at him the same way. I can’t help it: I think of him as mine. Not Chasm’s or Maxx’s, not Tess’ or Paul’s. Mine. “Back-to-back. Nothing sexual.”

“She knows Chasm and I have been … intimate, so I guess that could work,” I muse, and Parrish’s brow crinkles.

“Why the fuck does she know that?” Parrish demands, and Chas sighs, coming over to stand beside his friend. The two of them stare at each other in silent communication before Chasm murmurs something in Korean, and Parrish cringes.

“Meaning …?” I prompt as Maxx joins us, standing on the opposite side of the bed.

“He told him how the cops found the condom,” he offers up, and I cringe slightly. Poor Chas. He had to put up with a lot of shit that had nothing to do with him at all. He handled it well and without complaint, too.

“So yeah, I got my ass chewed out by Tess over your sexual encounter with your stepsister.” Chas reaches up to undo his tie, and I step forward automatically to help him. Parrish notices and Chasm very carefully pushes my hands away. “We did that for you.”

“I understand that,” Parrish whispers, sighing again. “But I have a right to be jealous, don’t I? Just let me feel this way for a while.”

Maxx studies his friends for a minute and then turns to me.

“I checked your phone for you: no messages.”

I nod; I don’t expect any until later tomorrow. My heart sinks, but I clamp down on the feeling as a yawn overtakes me. I’m exhausted; we’re all exhausted.

“Let’s get settled,” I suggest gently, hoping to break the tension, “and we can discuss everything that happened on both ends. We need to be on the same page.”

Parrish gives me a look.

“Yeah, but only if you sleep in my bed. Otherwise, I’m not listening.” He reaches past me to pull down the covers and then stares at his sheets, lifting his eyes up to Maxx and then looking over at Chasm. “You didn’t fuck in my bed, did you?”

“No,” Maxx says firmly, but with an edge of annoyance on his face. “We almost did, considering you had about an hour before your throat got slit. But we moved into Dakota’s room.”

“Dakota’s room,” Chasm agrees, looking up at the ceiling as he shoves his tie into the pocket of his slacks. “The hedge maze at school. Also, the handicapped bathroom at school.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Parrish growls out, climbing onto the bed and then looking over at me. “Get in here with me.” He pauses again and then looks up at my face. “Did they tell you they were both virgins beforehand? Even Chasm. All his whore talk is just a game.”

“Go to hell, Parrish,” Chasm snaps at him, flipping his friend off with both hands. Parrish actually chuckles at that which is a good sign. The chuckles stop abruptly as Chas strips off his jacket and dress shirt, revealing his inked arms and chest. He kicks around the blankets on the floor, making a nest beside me.

On the other side of the bed, Maxx strips off his own bow tie, jacket, and shirt, turning around to grab some folded blankets off the top of the desk. I can see his angel wing tattoos in glorious detail.

My eyes turn back to Parrish.

He stares at me.

Maxx flicks off the lights.

My eyes go immediately to the ceiling, to the glow-in-the-dark stars plastered across it. They glow faintly and pleasantly from above as we settle into the blankets. Parrish does not start off back-to-back with me as he said.

Instead, he curls his body around mine and tucks me close.

It feels so damn good that I don’t even care if we get caught.

“Start from the beginning, Pear-Pear,” Maxx says, and Parrish sighs, his breath warm against my ear.

“Well,” he begins running his hand up my side and kneading my breast gently through my top. I bite my lip to keep quiet. “Dakota and I had sex—about five times in a row—and then she went back to her room. After that, I laid down in here, and then … I don’t remember anything until I woke up in the wine cellar. Not a goddamn thing.”