Page 30

When the clock hits seven, my phone buzzes.

Vero

Open it.

I undo the huge-ass bow on the top and drag off the lid. Inside is a pair of camo pants, a dark-green tank top, and camo face paint.

Then, as if he knows I have opened the box, a FaceTime call comes through from him.

“Are you excited? Have you gotten dressed yet? You are going to look so fucking hot.”

I laugh at how excited he is. “You need to back up a few steps. Why did you send me this?”

His brow furrows, and it’s almost as if he is trying to remember if he missed telling me something. “We have a new exhibit opening tonight for a trial run. I bet Nixie I could drink a graveyard smoothie—she didn’t believe I could. It was so gross it had me gagging, and I think I swallowed some of my own vomit. But because I won, we get to hold the first chase. It is so exciting. We get paintball guns or gel blasters, and I opted for paint because who doesn’t want to look like a rainbow when they are done? I know I do. It’s set as a military theme for the first round, but Nixie plans to change it up regularly.”

“Are you asking me to come back to the island?”

Vero smiles and Brawley pops his head into view on the screen. “Please say yes, he has not shut up all day waiting for you to open that stupid fucking box. It was adorable, but could have been avoided if he had hand-delivered the damn thing.”

Vero laughs. “I didn’t think of that. Next time I will deliver gifts in person. But what do you say, do you want to be a test dummy?”

“Do I get a gun?”

Vero nods.

“Then fuck yes, I’m in. Please make sure Clay is there—his ass is mine. I plan to make sure I aim for that fucker’s neck.”

Brawley laughs, and Vero promises he will get Clay to join us. “Get dressed, and I will have a driver come pick you up. Feel free to keep the video call going while you get ready.”

I chuckle and give a good-natured eye roll. “Goodbye, Vero. I’ll see you soon.”

I end the call as he blows me a kiss. He’s brought up the idea of me coming back to the island before, and I would be a huge liar if I said I didn’t want to go back. But I didn’t want anyone to think it was the only reason I wanted to hang around with Vero. I’m more than happy to be his friend. I love the way his mind works, and I admire the freedom of saying what he thinks and feels without filtering himself.

Pulling on the camo pants, I find they fit me perfectly, which means Vero paid attention when he shouldn’t have, and I don’t know if that is sweet or unsettling. The dark-green tank top fits perfectly, and I pull my hair up and dig out my boots from under the bed. I look at the face paint for a moment and decide if I am doing this, I am doing it properly. I draw two lines under each eye and look at myself in the mirror with a grin.

After grabbing my bag, I head downstairs and out the front door, searching for the car that is picking me up. However, I see a massive black truck with tinted windows sitting at the curb, so I ignore it, as I know exactly who it is.

The window rolls down and Clay’s face comes into view. His bandanna is tied around his neck, and one arm rests on the window, but the way he looks at me is like I have inconvenienced his life. The white flag I thought he waved in the kitchen was clearly a lapse in judgment on my behalf.

“Get in.”

I snort. “I was always taught not to get in a car with a stranger.”

He fucking smirks at me. “You also shouldn’t fuck them, but here we are.” He gives me a pointed stare, but I don’t move and cross my arms. “Get in the car, Kayla, before I get out and make you.”

Mabel opens the front door in her nightgown. “Are you okay, honey? I can get my gun.”

Clay sucks his lips around his teeth, and I know the dick is trying not to laugh. “Yeah, Kayla, are you okay?”

I huff. “I’m fine, just going to visit a friend.”

I walk toward Clay’s car, pulling open the passenger door and climbing in. Shit, this truck is as obnoxious as its owner. The entire interior is black, immaculately clean, and smells annoyingly good. Why couldn’t he be a slob? I close the door, and he pulls away from the curb.

“Where is my driver? You didn’t kill him, did you?”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but you’re not important enough to me to kill someone for you.”

“So why are you here?”