If they’ve been watching me, they know just how wretched I’ve been without them. I haven’t been eating, dancing, or living. I haven’t done anything but miss them with every goddamn pang in my chest.
How fucked up is that? To ache for not one but two men who lie and cheat and manipulate at every turn? Oh, and now I can add drugs and kidnapping to the list of reasons why I should be looking for a phone and reporting their asses to the authorities.
Is this Trace’s estate? I don’t even know where I am. “What is this place?”
Cole meets Trace’s eyes and shifts his unblinking glare to me. “This is where we finish this.”
“Finish what?” I gape at Cole, my pulse thrashing at the base of my throat. “No, never mind. I quit this shit five weeks ago, which means I’m done. It’s over.”
I whirl toward the front entry and take off at a sprint. Maybe there’s a car outside or neighbors who can help me. Or maybe there’s not. I just need to get the fuck out of here.
When I reach the door, I find it locked with another keypad.
“Let me out, dammit.” I yank frantically on the handle, heaving with desperation. “You can’t keep me here.”
Their silence heats my blood, and I pivot to face them.
“Are you holding me hostage?” I glare at Trace’s irritatingly composed expression.
“We didn’t kidnap you.” Cole stands from the couch. “And we’re not holding you here.”
“You’re a liar, Cole.” I release the door and storm back toward them. “One of you drugged me and brought me here. Or was it both of you? Are you working together now?”
Trace scowls at Cole. Neither of them speak.
Two seconds ago, I walked in on a standoff with a gun. It’s safe to assume that whatever arrangement they’ve cooked up is unstable at best.
I veer past them and check the patio doors. All locked with keypads. Circling the kitchen island, I search for another way out. “What was your disagreement about?”
“You’ve made some poor choices.” Trace clasps his hands behind his back and follows me at a distance. “Specifically, your decision to move halfway across the country.”
“It was the smartest decision I’ve made since I met you.” I swing open a door in the kitchen, revealing a massive pantry. Damn. “Where’s the garage?”
Open shelving on the kitchen’s raw wood walls displays dishes and cookware. The floor plan is simple, airy, and bright, as if designed to pull visitors toward the exterior views of the lake and woodland.
There’s another door beyond the built-in refrigerator, the wood frame blending with the maple cabinetry. I bet it leads to a garage.
“You’re free to go.” Cole prowls around the long kitchen island, standing opposite of Trace and corralling me in. “After I explain a few things and deliver your punishment.”
“Punishment?” My jaw drops, and my heart rate explodes. “Are you serious?”
Trace assumes an imposing stance, hands behind him, blocking my path to the garage door. His eyes flick between Cole and the gun on the table. “We haven’t agreed on who is punishing her.”
“That was the disagreement?” I stab my fingers through my hair, my voice pitching with disbelief. “You wanted to be the one to punish me, so you pulled a gun on Cole?”
“I want to be the only one putting a hand on you. Ever.”
“This is nuts.” I try to dart around him, but he shifts with me, trapping me behind the island. I turn to Cole, who barricades the other end. I’ll scratch and claw my way past them if I need to. “We’re over. No more talking. No more punish—”
“You kicked me out of our house.” Cole stalks closer, six feet away, three feet, every long stride forcing me backward toward Trace. “I haven’t talked to you or touched you in weeks. Not cool, baby. Your ass is going to be so fucking red you won’t be able to sit down for days.”
“You cheated on me!” A sob rises up, shaking my shoulders. “I waited for you, mourned your death, while you were banging another woman!”
“Are you hearing this?” Cole glowers at Trace and thrusts a finger in my direction. “She just proved my fucking point. I win.”
Trace’s nostrils widen with a heavy inhale before he gives a slight nod. “Fine.”
What the hell just happened? I swat a lock of hair from my face, my vision blurring with tears. “You win what exactly?”
“I will be the one punishing you.” Cole’s eyes dance with ruthless fire. “And you’ll love every minute of it.”
“No, Cole.” I ball my hands at my sides, my voice simmering with venom. “You will take your verbal masturbation and shove it up your cocky, lying, cheating ass!”
“There she is.” Trace’s scowl lifts at the corner.
“What does that mean?” I angrily swipe at the moisture on my cheek.
“You lost that feisty attitude over the past few months. I hoped this…action plan would inspire it to return.”
“By action plan you mean knocking me unconscious and dragging me into the middle of nowhere?”
“Yes.” Trace tilts his head, his towering frame deadly still.
“Move out of my way.” I hold my fists at my sides.
“Danni—”
“I want to leave gently, gracefully. Give me that.” I lower my tone. “Let. Me. Go.”
“You don’t get to go gentle.” Cole leans in, his breath heating my neck. “Not when you have a reason to fight.”
“Fight for what? Can you not see how hopeless this is?” I plaster my back against the cabinet, hemmed in and restless for space. “We’re a tangled, damaged, unfortunate tragedy of love. I’m not fighting for that.”
“You will.” Trace steps to the side, opening a path to escape.
I take it, running toward the door at the edge of the kitchen and finding a three-car garage on the other side.
Cole’s motorcycle, multiple ATVs, and a black Range Rover fill the stalls. I close the door, leaving them in the kitchen, and scour the garage for keys. Nothing. The SUV is the only vehicle that can get me back to civilization, and all the doors are locked. Fuck.
Maybe there are more cars in the driveway? I circle back and hit the button that lifts the garage doors. I’m surprised Cole and Trace haven’t followed me. It’s not a good sign. If there’s a chance I can leave, I’m certain they’ll prevent it. Doesn’t stop me from racing into the blast of cold air outside of the garage.
The half-circle driveway is empty. My shoulders fall, and the frigid temperatures shiver through my bones. I don’t have a coat or a phone. My stiletto boots are sexy as hell, but I won’t last a mile in them.
I walk to the end of the black asphalt and pause at the narrow dirt road that winds into the woods. The estate sits on a dead end. No other houses. No rumble of traffic in the distance. Total isolation.
Dusk blankets the surrounding forest of leaf-less trees in a gray gloom, the sky growing darker by the minute. My only option is to go back inside, but my boots remain rooted to the pavement.
It’s peaceful out here. Calming. Other than the sounds of squirrels rustling the undergrowth and the occasional chirrup of a bird, it’s noiseless. Lifeless. Completely void of drama and trickery.
A cobblestone sidewalk leads away from the driveway and curves around the wing of the estate, the path illuminated by dim lights. I follow it, wishing I had my coat as the chilly breeze penetrates my sweater.
Gurgling, river-rock streams and mulched footpaths trail off in every direction, begging to be explored. Most lead into the woods. Others point the way to patios and exterior doors of the house.
I stick to the main walkway, which takes me to the rear terrace. The kitchen and living room are visible beyond the full-length windows, but I don’t see Cole or Trace. They’re probably watching me on hidden cameras, the fuckers.
From there, I cross the bridge that descends to the dock on the cove. The tree-lined shores wrap around calm dark water that stretches for miles. Several boat lights bob in the horizon, far outside of hearing range and not likely to venture near this inlet.