He turned his head, locking eyes with me. “There were no games in there. No real friends. No hesitation. Act and commit. That’s what they learned.”

I turned my gaze back out the windows. In there. That was as much as Kai had talked about prison since he’d gotten out.

I hadn’t asked, either. Maybe I knew he’d talk when he was ready, or maybe I felt guilty, knowing that it was all my fault. I’d brought her with us that night, after all. I’d trusted her. This was on me.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was because I never wanted to know what the last three years had been like for my friends. What they’d lost. How they’d waited.

How they’d changed.

I shook my head, trying to brush off his warning. “They were always like that,” I argued.

“But they were always controllable,” he challenged. “They were appeasable. Now they don’t have limits, and the only thing they truly understand is that they are the only person they can trust.”

So what was he saying? That they might have their own agendas?

I let my eyes fall to her, working vigorously as she rolled on the red paint.

And something coiled inside of me, twisting and tightening until my chest ached.

What would I do if they jumped ship? Took their own course of action? I didn’t like that idea.

But for three years, I’d been forced to look at her in my house, hear about her, and bide my time when all I wanted was to be her nightmare. She was here, and we were ready.

“We can’t stop,” I nearly whispered. We could control Will and Damon. We always had.

“I don’t want to stop,” he retorted, his dark eyes pinned on her. “She deserves everything that’s coming to her. But I am saying that things never go according to plan. Remember that.”

I picked up the glass of bourbon I’d set down and tossed it back, swallowing the remainder of the liquid in one gulp. The burn sat at the back of my tongue, my throat tightening as I set the glass down.

I’d remember it, but I wasn’t going to worry about it. It was finally time to have some fun.

“Why is she painting at two a.m.?” he asked as if just finally realizing what she was doing.

I just shook my head, looking down at her and having no idea. Maybe she couldn’t sleep after Damon and Will’s escapade next door.

Kai exhaled, gazing down at her with a slight smile curling his lips. “She grew up nice, didn’t she?” His voice turned soft but kept its threatening edge. “Beautiful skin, hypnotic eyes and lips, tight body…”

Yeah.

Rika’s Dutch South African mother married her way into money and power, using a face and body that was still only half as beautiful as her daughter’s. Rika may have inherited her mother’s blonde hair and blue eyes, her full lips and mesmerizing smile, but the rest was all Rika.

The sun-kissed, glowing skin; the strong, toned legs from years of fencing; and the way she looked so alluring and sweet but with a hint of mischief in her eyes.

Like a baby vampire.

“Yo!” Will bellowed from below. “What the fuck are you guys doing? Let’s play!”

Kai smiled, dropping his arms and turning for the court.

But I hesitated, still thinking about his warning.

He was right. Damon and Will leered, waiting to dive in for the kill. But what about Kai? How far would he go with her?

We had rules, a way that this was supposed to work. We weren’t going to hurt her. We were going to ruin her. I knew Damon and Will would try to break those rules, but what about Kai? Would he step in and reel them back in as he’d always done?

Or would he follow this time?

“What about you?” I finally asked, making him stop. “Did prison change you?”

He turned, looking at me with eerie calmness. “I guess we’ll see.”

Three Years Ago

THE CAR TURNED, AND I ROCKED BACK and forth on the floor of the G-Class, the drive turning from smooth to bumpy. The ground underneath the tires suddenly sounded like a grinder, and I knew that we’d hit gravel.

Car stereos blasted outside, and I heard honking, telling me that the whole parade was in tow. We stopped, and before I knew what was happening, doors opened, the engine died, and howls filled the air as all the passengers joined each other outside.

I stayed put, resisting the urge to peek out the windows and hoping Michael didn’t need to open the back door to get anything. Within a few minutes, though, the chatter and laughter began to fade, and then it disappeared altogether.

I slowly pushed myself up, keeping my head low as I peered out the window.

Scanning the area, tall trees dotted the clearing where everyone had parked. Cars, trucks, and SUVs cluttered the space, and I narrowed my eyes, noticing we were in the forest.

Why the hell were we out here?

But then I turned around and immediately spotted a massive stone structure ahead of me.

I tilted my head back, following the spears of the old, abandoned church peeking out through the bare autumn tree branches as it sat broken, dead, and silent in the woods.

St. Killian’s. I’d never been here, but I knew it from the pictures I’d seen in the newspaper over the years. It was an old landmark, dating back to the 1700s when Thunder Bay was first settled.

In 1938, however, it suffered structural damage due to a hurricane, and it closed, never reopening.

Everyone must’ve gone inside.

I ventured one more glance around the area, making sure no one was around, and quickly climbed over the back seat, opening one of the back doors and hopping out.