She hasn’t changed. Even drenched and miserable, she looks like she always did—perfect despite her messy blond hair.
But I have.
I am wearing jeans and a t-shirt that hide most of my ink but not nearly enough.
I see Callie’s gaze drift along my tattoos—knuckles, arms, then up to my neck.
Yeah, petal, that’s new. Take a good fucking look.
Anger starts simmering in me like hot tar. That familiar poison inside me is back.
I know these stares too fucking well.
Her eyes, wide with shock, meet mine and dart away.
I smirk, walk up to Bo, and take the joint out of his fingers. I take a deep drag, knowing perfectly well that I can’t get high enough to come to terms with what is happening.
Jeok huffs and puffs. I can’t blame him. When the fight on the Westside happened two years ago, his friend got killed. He is the last person who wants to get on Crone’s radar.
“We don’t have room for them,” he snaps.
But Bo won’t hear of it. That’s why he was elected the leader of the Eastside.
“They will stay here tonight. Let’s bring sheets and a change of clothes.”
Maddy blurts out, “I got it,” and runs out. Good, willing Maddy. The girl is golden.
I pass the joint back to Bo and stomp out of the Common Lounge.
It seems like we’ve been inside for only a minute, but the time was lost because it’s drizzling outside. The storm is calming. By morning, this place will be the same sunny paradise as it is ten months out of the year.
I inhale deeply and run my fingers through my rain-soaked hair, the world suddenly dizzy and surreal.
The air is damp. The waves crashing at the shore are not nearly as violent.
The night is dark. But I can’t help seeingherface, knowingsheis right there, ten feet away from me, inside that lit room.
“What’s up, man?” Bo’s low voice behind me makes me shake my head.
“Nothing.”
Liar.
I wish I never saw her face again.
But what do you fucking know?
Fate is a sneaky bitch. It reaches its claws at me two years after the Change.
Hundreds of miles away from the mainland.
On an island that is secluded and off-limits to the outsiders.
With the program that allows seven arrivals every four months.
Odds—one in a thousand.
And her.