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Ezra watches me in my torment as I stare at the cabin and the woods beyond. “I told you he isn’t a good guy,” he says. “He doesn’t care about you, London. The only person Micah cares about is himself.”

What Ezra doesn’t understand is how little I feel in this moment or the fact he’s not much better than Micah. After all, he is keeping me captive, too. I guess when there are no other alternatives, people become valuable possessions—possibly as valuable as food. And I think, somehow, I’ve become a possession to merely barter for something better and more useful.

With a lump in my throat, I cautiously tread through the slushy mixture of mud and snow behind Ezra. My legs grow heavier with each step, but my mind clears up. We peer inside the small, dirty window—the only window, the one I spent months gazing out of into the wintery night.

That feels like a lifetime ago.

It’s hard to see through the pane as it’s layered with grime and fifty years’ worth of dirt. My eyes are weary, and the light is the trickiest at this moment of the night, but shadows dance inside. There is clear movement in the single room near the bed. Two shadows intermingled together.

Micah isn’t alone.

We only watch for a moment, but a moment is all I need before I stumble a couple of steps back. Because I am numb and utterly detached from myself watching him with her, just as Nigel and Ezra had predicted.

Even without looking at him, I can feel the terrifying energy Ezra emits behind me. Something shifts in him, an audible snap, and his body chemistry changes. I turn to face him and the heat is radiating off him. The nice guy I’ve caught glimpses of over these past few days is gone, and the one staring back at me is feral—the boy he has become after enduring the horrors of this island. My heart stills at the look in his eyes as they glaze over and darken like the evening sky above us.

And they are directed right at me.

I fidget under his hardened glare. The wheels are turning in his head as he stares at me, then to the window, and then back to me, his lip curling. I know that look—the raw, unhinged emotion radiating from him. Seeing Naomi with Micah was the final straw, and his sanity is shattering.

“Ezra, you don’t need her,” I whisper.

A wicked grin spreads over his face, one I’ve not seen on him before. “You’re right,” he says darkly, looking at me like I’m meat. “I fucking don’t.”

I hate the way he’s looking at me. It’s not him… This isn’t Ezra. My body is frozen, and a cry is building in my throat as he closes the few inches between us. I twist away from him toward the cabin, the door a mere ten feet away. So close… Micah’s so close to me, but I don’t know if I can call out to him.

I stand frozen, the anger swelling inside me so potent, but I need him.

I need Micah.

I open my mouth to scream…

“Don’t fucking do it, London,” Ezra warns, fully aware of what I’m thinking. I bite my lip, too scared to move. “Don’t scream, London. Don’t make a fucking peep. I have nothing to lose anymore, and I don’t care if I live or die. If you cry out, I will slit your throat before he has the chance to save you.”

Ezra lies when he says he doesn’t care… Because if he didn’t care whether he lived or died, he wouldn’t be threatening me to begin with. Why wouldn’t he just make his presence known and let Micah kill him? Because he wants to live, and saying otherwise is bullshit.

He grabs me before I can react and clamps his hand so hard on my mouth that I can’t gasp for air. He has his hockey skate spear digging into my neck. I can’t bear the image of Naomi on top of Micah, so I close my eyes.

“Open your goddamn eyes and watch them,” he orders, his fingers digging into me.

Micah and Naomi. They are impossible not to see. Even with my eyes closed, it’s an image I’ll never forget.

“This is what I was warning you about.” His voice cracks—raw.

I swallow hard, watching them. Tears sting my eyes as I take in what I know is killing him inside, too. I’m gutted and absolutely torn apart watching them as they embrace. My body shakes as I see her lean up, and even from this distance, it’s impossible to mistake what they are doing. I close my eyes so I can’t watch.

“Tell me who you see in there.” I don’t recognize Ezra, the raw pain in his voice.

“Micah and Naomi,” I whisper, and it pains me to say it, too.

“That’s right. Micah and fucking Naomi. Now someone else gets to experience the pain of witnessing them together. This is what I’ve experienced for years. This. Is. What. They. Do.”

Taking advantage of his moment of pain, I twist out of his grip. He reaches out for me, but I’m quicker, finding whatever inner strength is left inside me. Instead of screaming, I turn and run as fast as I can into the woods. He catches me quickly and pushes me to the ground.

He chuckles as he presses my shoulders down. His eyes blaze like starlight, his brute strength pinning me beneath him. “You think I’m going to let you get rescued? You’re a liar, just like she is. You were never going to give me the food, were you?”

He’s wrong, so utterly wrong. I would have; I was going to. I didn’t think things through. Part of me hoped Micah wouldn’t be here, that maybe, just maybe, he was dead, and this food is rightfully mine.

I can’t breathe. I can’t find the words to beg Ezra to stop because he’s crushing my lungs. All I can manage is to stare up at him with pleading eyes as they begin to sting with dirty tears. He presses on me harder. “Quit struggling. I’m all you have, London. And trust me, you’re not my fucking first choice, either.”