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He sits and slumps forward, and it breaks my heart. “You’re making a mistake. He’s fucking gotten to you. I don’t know what he told you, baby. He killed Olivia, not me. I should never have let him have you. This happens whenever he sinks his claws into people—he destroys them. No one loves him like I do, but he’s sick, baby… He’s always been sick.”

He truly doesn’t understand why I have to leave, or what he did. Or how much his brother loves him, has sacrificed for him… or how much I love him, despite everything. So much guilt between them, and they’ve never even talked about it.

I crouch in front of him, pulling his head up. I need him to understand; I need him to quit being so stubborn. “We have to get him. He has no one. Come with me, Maison. He needs you more than me. We can figure this all out.”

He taps his feet and twists his mouth. “No. I’m not cleaning up his fucking mess this time. I’m not protecting him on this one.”

I stand and fold my arms. “Fine. But I have to go, then.”

His jaw tightens as a swallow bobs in his throat. “Why am I not enough for you, London?” he asks, his voice raw. “Why am I never enough? I would have given you everything.”

I close my eyes as the tears sting through them. “Don’t say that, Maison,” I whisper. “You’re perfect. You have no idea how perfect you are.”

“Then why are you going to him when I need you more? He makes everything about him. If you choose him right now, we are over. I mean it, London.”

And I believe him. Maison is not the type to say anything not true to his heart—that’s what I love most about him. He’s real, honest, and sees the beauty in everything and everyone, which is why this is so hard. His mind is clouded. This island has darkened him, Olivia darkened him, and Micah tried to take that on for him.

I turn to him and press my lips to his. He immediately softens. “I love you, Maison,” I tell him as his brow tightens with a tortured look in his eye.

So dark, so brooding.

Right now, he could be Micah. I turn around and run. When I get to the tree line, I turn back as a chilly wind hits my face. He stands still and watches me. His silhouette shines against the silver sky. I run into the forest, leaving his light and a big piece of my heart behind me.

Chapter Eighteen

I didn’t think this through.

I have no clue where Micah’s camp is. I thought I did, but I’ve wandered this forest for a while, and it’s only twenty minutes away. I’m going in circles, and I swear I am seeing the same tree. I even saw a footprint at one point that matches my own.

I sit numb against a thick fur tree, my stomach clenching at the thought of getting stuck out here, even for one night. I pull out my pack and assess my situation more closely, since I packed everything in a wet blur. I have the sweater I’m wearing, an extra pair of sweats, tiny pajamas, and a piece of dried meat I took from Maison. I have no supplies other than my sharp wooden spear I now carry around with me everywhere, almost as if it’s a part of me. I’m completely and utterly at the mercy of the forest.

No one’s looking for me this time. Micah won’t know I came after him, and I don’t see any sign of him, or even the sign of the creek anywhere, just the thick forest of dead pines. If I could find that creek, I could follow it till I find him.

My body shivers from the cool morning breeze. The sky’s barely getting heated by the sun after just a month here. It’s so cold, my hands go numb. Maybe it would be easier if I just died right here, right now. All the pain would go away, and this would be over. Instead of offing myself with my spear, I rub my hands together, trying to get feeling back into them.

I slip my fingers into my pack and grab the bit of dried meat. It’s the only food I’ve had in at least twenty-four hours. Maison handed it to me right before I left, and my heart twinges at the memory of it, of his face when I left him. He didn’t say he loved me back. A rush of anxiety flows through me, and I whimper at the thought of leaving my safety net on this island. How I left Maison hurting. But Micah needs to know he’s not alone before I go back. In the meantime, I suppress the urge to scream for him.

Wait—

I rise, let my spear drop to my side, and let out a blood-curdling scream so loud and strong, it ricochets across the forest and echoes back to me. I scream so loudly that I almost faint, realizing I should have done it sooner.

Nothing happens.

Micah doesn’t magically appear in front of me.

I fall back on the tree and slump my head down between my hands, willing myself to eat. I must doze off because a few minutes go by, and a little noise causes my eyes to jolt open. A little critter is eating the last of my food right out of my hands. The squirrel must have smelt my food, it’s white stripes and wide eyes nibbling away without a care in the world.

I know, little guy. I’m hungry, too.

I let go of it and it scuttles a few feet away, and I contemplate for only a second before I grab its tail, my spear, and I sever it, killing the furry creature in one swipe. This island is pushing me, making me do things I never thought I would.

Once it’s bled out as much as I think it’s going to, I grab the squirrel and wrap it in one of my shirts and stuff it into my bag. With uncertainty, I gather strength to keep going. The thought of sleep motivates me to move faster. After about five minutes, I finally hear a trickle of water and I blow out a breath. At the very least, I can wash my hands.

When I lean down, I feel a prickle on my skin, like I’m being watched. I snap my head up and look around. “Micah?”

I feel his heavy presence.

He steps out, his black hood over his eyes. I’m startled as he appears unexpectedly before me. His chin is dipped down, his hair fallen over his eyes.