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“Both is certainly an option.”
“So is biting your dick off.”
His eyes gleam sadistically. His lips curl, but then slowly flatten into a thin line.
“We’re done here,” he grunts. His face dims as his eyes pierce into me. “Now get the fuck off my island.”
He turns away, back to the darkness of his mansion.
“Fine.”
Jackson steps into the house and reaches for the door.
“Fine, I’ll leave. If you answeronesingle question.”
He pauses, his broad shoulders tensing before he turns to level his gaze at me.
“Once again, you’re mistaking this for a negotiation. Let me reassure you one more fucking time: it isnot—”
“Why did you leave?”
He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t react. And yet, it’s the absence of a reaction that gives him away. It’s the way he keeps himself perfectly still, like he’s holding something back.
“Just answer me that,” I press, quietly. “Why, at the height of your fame, at the height ofeverything, did you run? You had everything—”
“Stop talking.”
“Look, if you want me to leave, I will; fine. But I came all the way here. Ifoundyou. And I’m guessing in, what, ten years, no one else has—”
“Youneedto stop talking. Right now.”
“ButI’mhere,” I urge. “And I’ll leave, I promise. I’ll leave and I’ll sign whatever NDA I’m sure you’ve already concocted in your head to send me. But before I do, I just want to know why you were so desperate to drop the keys to the kingdom and flee to—”
“AndIwant to know!” he thunders, shaking me, and making me falter back a step. “How it is you never fucking once asked yourself if Iwantedto be found.”
I rake my teeth over my lip.
“Look, no one will find you, even if you give this interview. I promise you that. The magazine will cover it a hundred different ways.I’llcover it. I won’t even tell my editors where I found you at all! I just want to tell your story—”
“My. Fucking. Story,” he rasps angrily. “Not the world’s. Not Rolling fucking Stone’s—”
“Ignition—”
“Not. Your. Fucking. Story.”
He roars the words, and the color drains from my face as he storms into me, tapping his chest with a snarl on his lips.
“Mine! My life. My story.Myfucking island,” he spits. “That you can get the fuck off of,right goddamn now.”
“Look,” I say evenly. “If I found you, someone else can, too. And all I’m saying is, they might not—”
“Do you know how far of a drop it is off that cliff behind this house?”
I pale, swallowing.
“I’ve been away from society, just like you said,” he growls. “Fortenfucking years.”
I shiver as he takes another step towards me.
