“You don’t have what it takes to be me,” he gritted out, standing over me.

“Will,” I heard Emmy call.

And then Alex. “What the hell are you doing?” she growled at me. “Do something!”

“He can’t,” Aydin told her. “Because he can’t lead. This is all he is. Don’t you see it?”

I rose up to see him glaring at her.

“Don’t you?” he yelled at Alex again.

Aydin punched and kicked, and my eyes watered as fire tore through my body. He knocked me down and then fisted my throat as we rolled around on the floor. I wouldn’t fight back. Not yet.

Not yet.

But I wouldn’t cower, either. It was the only way. Men like him needed to feel power, but he wouldn’t respect me if I begged like Micah.

He needed me.

He wouldn’t be able to tie his shoes without me someday.

Blood dripped out of my nose, and my ribs hurt. I barely registered the girls on us, trying to pry us off each other, but we rolled, forcing them back. Locking my elbows, I gripped his jaw and pushed him away from me. Sweat broke out across my forehead, and he breathed hard, the scratch I accidently left on his cheekbone red and jagged.

“Entertain me,” he said. “Let me watch, and let your girl watch, so she knows exactly how hard you missed her during your time apart.”

“I did miss her,” I whispered up at him, so only he heard. “Several times a day, in an array of fascinating places.”

His eyes flared, and he growled. “Fuck you!”

I broke out into a laugh, even through the pain, because he was coming undone.

That was it. For some reason, he was jealous, and I didn’t know why, but that was it. Did he want me or something? Maybe Alex?

“Come on!” I bellowed. “Hit me again!”

Break. Fucking break, because it was time.

He pulled back his fist, and I braced myself, but then something swung down behind him, slamming against the back of his neck.

He jerked, his eyes etched with pain, and then he fell over. I looked up at Alex standing there with a lamp in her fists.

He rolled over, hissing through his teeth as he locked eyes with her. “You better be ready to finish what you—”

She shot out the lamp, headbutting him, and he fell back, blood pouring down his mouth. He held his face.

“Alex…” I gasped.

Shit.

But the next thing I knew, the lamp hit my nose, too, a searing pain shooting through my head. I dropped back to the floor next to Aydin as the girls went to work.

My eyes watered, and I couldn’t even open them, but I felt one of them pull off my belt, and I barely realized what was happening as I was dragged to the wall, catching glimpses of the girls struggling to move us.

By the time I came to and was able to open my eyes, my arms were secured, and I couldn’t move.

I looked up, seeing my right wrist tied to the treadmill with one of Aydin’s neckties, and my other wrist bound to his wrist with my belt. I looked over at him, seeing his left hand was also tied with his belt to the hook holding back the drapes.

I belted out a growl, yanking my arms and grunting as I glared at the girls.

“What are you doing?” I yelled. “What the fuck!”

They walked about the room, doing things and ignoring us, and I stared at Em, who wouldn’t even look at me. I wasn’t the one out of control here.

“Hey!” Micah said, Rory, Taylor, and him all rushing to the doorway. “What the hell’s going on?”

But Emmy charged over and kicked the door shut, propping a chair underneath it.

“This is bullshit!” I shouted.

But Aydin just laughed, shaking his head. He wasn’t threatened by them.

Emmy poured herself another glass of bourbon and then pulled off her T-shirt, leaving herself in Rory’s cut-offs and a bra.

She tried to look over her shoulder, and I could see a red spot forming on her back. Did she get hurt in that tussle? I remembered them on us briefly, but I didn’t know she’d fallen.

She took a sip of the drink as Alex inspected the damage.

“I’m okay,” Em assured her.

But Alex spun around, fire in her eyes as she glared at us like she wanted to kill us. “None of this is okay!”

She wiped the sweat off her face and walked into the bathroom, turning on the faucet while Emory downed the alcohol and poured herself another shot. She stood there quietly, and I continued to yank and pull on the six-hundred-pound treadmill like I’d actually be able to free myself. What the hell was the plan here? What were they going to do? Take control? Enlist the others?

Emory looked over at us—or me—through her glasses and hesitated a moment before bringing her glass over and sitting down on the carpet in front of us, just far enough away that we couldn’t reach her.

I held her eyes.

“The time you drove me home from the away game,” she said, “and we stopped at the Cove, I had a thought that night.”

All she did was think that night. She overthought everything.

“Part of me resisted you because I didn’t want to bring you into my horrible life,” she told me. “I was embarrassed and full of anger and without hope. I couldn’t give you anything.”

I tipped my chin up, remaining silent.

“But a part of me also resisted you because I feared I’d just be trading one abuse for another,” she explained. “How you coerced me, pushed me, wouldn’t leave me alone when I told you to… Tried to scare me.”

My gaze twitched as I studied her. I wasn’t abusive. I was a little spoiled and cocky, but I never wanted to hurt her.

She dropped her eyes, taking a sip. “The thought left me as quickly as it came,” she added, “because I wanted you, and deep down I held so tightly to the hope of you. I needed that.” She raised her gaze again. “But now, I wonder if I was right. Here I am, covered in bruises again. Maybe your world is just as bad as mine.”

I shook my head, but any protest I wanted to offer back died in my throat.

“What do you want from me?” she asked, as if Aydin and Alex weren’t in the room. And then firmer, “Huh? What do you want?”

Alex dropped down behind her, peering over her shoulder as both women sat there, challenging us.

“Who put me here?” Emmy asked. “Who thought I should be here with you? Damon, maybe? Michael?”

“Maybe it’s someone who hates you?” I shot back. “Your brother?”

She hesitated. “Why now?”

I grunted as I pushed myself up, using my shoulder to wipe off the blood dripping over my upper lip. “I think you know why.”

A look passed between us, because she knew what I was talking about. She was his loose end. The only other person who knew what they had orchestrated to send my friends and me to prison all those years ago.

“This place costs money,” she argued.

“His new wife has a lot of that.”

She does? I’d never met her.

But I countered. “He’d save the money and kill me if he actually thought I was a threat.”

“Would he?” I retorted. “In his head, I’m sure he thinks he loves you. Like Humbert Humbert.” And then I shrugged. “Perhaps he wants to teach you a lesson. Make you suffer.”