Page 51 of Return to the Island

“You know, you’re more beautiful than I remember,” he said, pressing off the door and stepping toward me. His hand reached for my jaw, not in the loving way Tack did, but in a manner where he cupped under my chin and clutched my jawbone. I winced.

“Get your hands off me,” I snarled, pressing against his firm chest, but his free hand encircled my wrist.

“Oh, my hands are going to be all over you, sweetheart.”

“Tack will kill you,” I snapped, worried for an instant this was the very thing Tack wanted to happen. My heart galloped and then plummeted to my stomach.

“Tack knows the rule. We share everything.” His face came closer to mine. His lips nearing my mouth but holding an inch away. “And I never had my turn.”

He spun me to face the wall, and I groaned as the breath rushed out of my lungs when my chest slammed against the tile. The same forest green color that filled the club caked the wall, but the rough texture was a false feature. The jungle was not like this. Rory’s body pressed against my back, his erection firmly placed against my backside.

“Get off me,” I hissed again, struggling with the weight of him behind me and my wrist pinned over my head.

“Oh, I plan to get off on you, Mouse.” The nickname crossing his lips at the shell of my ear made me prickle. I was trapped. Sensing my urge to scream, his second hand covered my mouth.

“My turn,” he groaned, releasing my wrist and slipping his hand over my breast. Tears sprang to my eyes at the violation. This couldn’t be happening again. Not like this. Not here. Not with Tack in the other room. With hands free, I tried to press off the wall, only to have him slam me back against the tile with the strength of his body.

“Juliet?” The soft sound of my name from Tack’s voice, sounding more like himself, the Tack I knew, made the tears fall harder. I struggled to make a noise.

“What the fuck?” The door slammed against the wall and Rory’s body slackened.

“Just taking my turn,” Rory said as he released me. I spun to see him thrown against the vanity.

“Jesus, man,” Rory said, straightening his coat, looking up in time to have Tack’s fist connect with his face.

“Tack,” I screamed, reaching for his arm, but he was too quick, hitting Rory in the abs next.

“What the fuck, I asked. Who do you think you are? She’s mine,” Tack yelled, gripping Rory’s designer shirt and yanking him forward. Rory spat a mouthful of blood at Tack.

“We were to share her.” Blood dripped from his nose as well.

“We never should have done that,” Tack said. “Never. Don’t look at her,” he demanded as Rory’s eyes shifted to me. One eye was already swelling as his nose continued to bleed.

“She wanted it,” Rory said. “Rick—“

“Don’t speak his name in front of her,” Tack commanded, jostling Rory. “He didn’t know shit. He didn’t know her.”

“And now that you’re all up in her, you do? That bitch killed my brother.”

“That woman is my going to be my wife, and I don’t care what she did,” Tack snapped and Rory’s one eye opened wider.

“He was your best friend.”

“He was a rapist,” Tack said, pushing Rory away from him. He shifted so his side was to Rory, keeping an eye on him. From his other side, he held out a hand to me. “Juliet.”

I shook my head, my body trembling so hard I didn’t think I could move.

“Juliet, baby,” Tack said firmly, demanding I take his offered hand. I still hadn’t moved, my body pressed against the putrid green tile. He’d taken the island and tarnished the memory in this club. My palms flattened against the rough wall, willing my body to disappear, as if I could slip through the hard surface like I used to hide in the jungle brush. He stepped toward me, and I flinched. Instantly, I was cradled into his arms.

“Hold on, Mouse. I’m getting you out of here.” I heard the words but didn’t feel them. Numb inside, I let my arms lay slack. “Mouse, help me. Wrap your arms around me.” He stumbled with the dead weight of my body. “Please, Mouse. Don’t give up.” With those words, I slipped a hand around his neck, using it as minimal leverage to hold myself against him.

“What happened?” His father asked as we reached the small entryway outside the party room.

“We’re getting out of here,” Tack said, pressing the elevator button with his elbow.

“We need to discuss her,” his father said, shifting his eyes to me.

“There’s nothing to discuss. I made a mistake.”

“We all agree you did that,” Terror Corbin snorted, implying a night years ago.

“Not that mistake,” Tack rectified. “A mistake in bringing her here. In hoping I could show you how beautiful and smart she is, and you would accept that I’d made my peace and so has she.” His eyes fell to mine questioning the blank expression on my face. He looked back to his father and stepped into the elevator when the doors opened.

“I don’t need your approval. I wanted it, as I always have. But I don’t need it for this. Not for her love.” With those words, the doors closed on his family, and we descended. I reached up and wrapped my other hand around his neck. He wasn’t going to set me down, but I still felt like I was falling.