Page 32

I lean back on the armrest of the couch and watch her. She won’t meet my eyes. She is obviously still pissed off about the tattoo.

Then her voice cuts through the silence.

“I want a rematch.”

The edge in it makes me pause. She’s standing now, arms crossed, face red from cold and fury.

Caleb tilts his head and says, “Excuse me?”

She doesn’t blink. “The game. That wasn’t fair.”

I snort. “I lost. That’s what happened.”

Her chin lifts. “Because I didn’t play.”

Caleb hums in amusement from the kitchen, flipping the steak. “Didn’t realize this was a democracy.”

She ignores him. Her focus is on me. Sharp and unwavering.

“I want a chance to win something.”

I set my elbow on the back of the couch, resting my cheek against my fist. “You really think we’re going to let you rewrite the terms?”

“I didn’t agree to those terms,” she snaps. “You two just made them up, and I want a fucking say.”

I raise my brows. “You don’t get to cry foul when your throat’s already in someone’s teeth.”

She flinches but she doesn’t back down. “Then let me earn something.”

I sit up. “Beg.”

She blinks. “What?”

I pat my thigh. “Crawl over here. Beg for it.”

Caleb whistles low behind me.

She doesn’t move.

“You want it to be me? If you want me and him to rematch,” I say, eyes locked on her. “Then earn it. Crawl. Beg. Cry. I want to see you drop that pride.”

Her mouth opens, then shuts again. She looks down at her feet, then back up. Her jaw trembles — not from fear. From rage.

But she kneels.

Hands hit the floor. Then her knees. She crawls, slow and shaking, across the cabin floor toward me.

Caleb’s stopped cooking. He’s watching now, fork in hand, eyes wide with interest.

Sienna stops at my feet.

I don’t speak. I wait.

She swallows hard. Her voice is barely audible. “Please, Eli. I want another chance.”

I shake my head slowly. “Not good enough. Try again.”

She hesitates. Then her voice gets smaller. “Please… sir.”

Closer.

“I’ll do better. I’ll… obey. Just give me this chance.”

“Say you’re my pet. My bad little puck bunny.”

Her body flinches. But she says it.

“I’m your pet. Your puck bunny.”

God. That did something to me. Knowing she’s the coach’s daughter, grew up around hockey. Fuck, she makes the perfect fucking puck bunny if you ask me.

Caleb’s breathing slows behind me. The smell of searing meat fills the air, but all I can focus on is the girl kneeling in front of me, eyes glassy, pride shattered.

I lean forward. “Now ask again.”

“Please let me try again. I want to play. I want to win.”

I lean back with a grin. “That’s more like it.”

She sits on her heels, brushing hair out of her face. “If I win this time, you both get tattoos. My choice. Anywhere.”

Caleb raises a brow. “And if we win?”

Her voice breaks for a second. “You get exactly what you want and how you want it. You’ll take it anyway.”

I stand, stretching, stepping around her like she’s prey on display. “What’s the game?”

She turns her head toward us. “I want to run.”

Silence.

She continues. “Through the woods. If I reach the road without either of you catching me, I win. You chase me. If you catch me, you win.”

Caleb laughs. “You don’t know the layout of the forest.”

“I’d rather that than sit here and be passed around like a prize.”

I grin. “I’m in.”

Caleb watches her for a long moment. Then shrugs. “Fine. I’m in. If I catch you, your ass is mine.”

Heat pools at her cheeks as she continues to kneel on the floor.

“My ass?” she murmurs.

“We eat first,” Caleb announces.

“We just ate,” Sienna and I say synonymously which makes me smile. She looks at me then quickly looks away.

Dinner is quiet. Tension crawls up the walls like ivy. Caleb plates the steaks and hands hers to her without a word. She eats like she hasn’t in days, chewing slowly, eyes darting between us.

My fork scrapes the plate.

“I think this is your dumbest idea yet,” I say to her. “You don’t know the woods. And we’re fucking athletes, Sie.”

She smiles without humor. “You think I won’t win?”

Caleb chuckles. “Absolutely, and I’m excited to see what happens when you lose.”

I reach across the table and brush her wrist. “Run as fast as you want, but we’re both going to fuck you tonight.”

She flinches but doesn’t pull away.

The food disappears. Plates stacked. Caleb stretches like a predator getting ready to pounce.

I step outside onto the porch, let the night air hit me. The trees are thick, the forest dense. No moonlight. She’s screwed.

She appears at the doorway, arms tight around her ribs.

I look at her once more. “You ready?”

She nods.

I point to the tree line. “You get a sixty-second head start. After that, we come.”

She takes a breath.

And runs.

The trees blur around me, branches slicing at my skin as I tear through the woods.

Moonlight cuts jagged paths between the leaves, and all I can hear is her breath, ragged and desperate, somewhere ahead of me.

She’s fast. Faster than I gave her credit for.

But she’s not trained. We don’t know these woods. Maybe Caleb does but I doubt it.

Still, she’s smart enough to keep moving.

I duck low under a fallen log, landing hard on my palms, and grin when I spot her through the trees. Just a flash of her hair, a flicker of her sweatshirt. Then gone. Again.

She’s trying to zigzag now, keep us guessing. Trying to get one over on us. I’m not mad. I’m impressed. This girl. She’s fire. Even after everything. She’s got fight in her bones, and tonight, I want to watch it burn.

But then I see it. Her hand. A glint of silver clutched tight.

A fork.

A damn fork.

The laugh comes before I can stop it, caught somewhere between disbelief and amusement. Did she seriously raid the kitchen for a weapon? Maybe she thought she’d get a knife but panicked. Or maybe she just didn’t care. I slow down, chest heaving, smile widening.

This is going to be fun.

I adjust the black hoodie clinging to my sweat-damp skin and keep moving, quieter now.

Less brute, more predator. I don’t want to scare her off just yet.

She’s headed toward the lake. I know it before I even see the shimmer of water beyond the trees.

She thinks she can outrun us. Outmaneuver us. She hasn’t figured it out yet.

We like it when they run.

I step into the clearing just in time to see her break through the trees ahead. Her feet hit the rocks by the lake, skidding slightly. The water’s still, mirror-smooth, moonlight glazing the surface like glass. She hesitates. I see it in the way her spine stiffens.

Then she jumps.

Straight into the black.

No hesitation. No fear.

Just escape.

I jog forward, eyes locked on the ripples her body makes, and by the time I reach the edge of the dock, Caleb’s behind me.

He’s still shirtless from the chase, skin streaked with dirt and a shallow scratch down one side of his neck.

He follows my gaze, spots the water, and lets out a low, throaty laugh.

“She jumped?” he says like it’s the best thing he’s seen all night.

I nod once, already peeling my hoodie off, wet with sweat and adrenaline. “She’s not getting far.”

He doesn’t waste another second.

Caleb’s dive slices through the stillness of the lake, and I follow him in. Cold shock clamps down around my ribs as the water swallows me whole, but it’s gone as fast as it hits. All I see now is movement just below the surface — her.

I push forward, cutting through the current with practiced strokes, closing the distance. Her arms are flailing now, not in panic, but with purpose. She’s aiming for the other side. Good. Let her fight. Let her burn herself out.

Caleb’s the one who reaches her first. His arm snakes around her waist, dragging her back against his chest, and she thrashes hard, fists pounding, legs kicking. He just tightens his grip, grinning against the side of her neck as he pulls her toward the shore.

“Gotcha,” he says, voice low and smug.

She spits lake water at him.

I haul myself out beside them, shoes squelching, soaked jeans weighing me down, but I don’t care. My chest rises and falls fast, adrenaline racing like a drug I can’t come down from. She looks wrecked. Wet clothes plastered to her skin, lips blue from the cold, strands of hair clinging to her face.

And still, she glares at us like she’d bite our throats out if she could.

Caleb tosses her over his shoulder like a sack of grain and starts the walk back to the cabin. She curses the whole way. Threatens to call someone. Anyone. But’s it’s no use.

She’s limp in Caleb’s arms when he dumps her onto the sofa, and I can’t look away. Not because of her. Not because of how she’s sprawled out there, soaked and vulnerable. No, it’s because of him. Caleb.

I should be pissed. I should’ve kicked his ass for dragging her around, for humiliating her, for making this whole damn thing feel like some twisted game. But what really eats at me is the way he’s so goddamn smug about it. Like he has control. Like he’s the one calling the shots.

But then he does something that… I don’t know, rattles me. Something I didn’t expect.

Caleb looks at me, all that cocky arrogance rolling off him in waves, and then he says it, like it’s no big deal.

“I won, so I say what happens next.”

Silence. None of us says a word, waiting for what he’s going to say next.

All I can think about is how he wants her ass. Fuck, no, I’m not letting that happen.

“Eli,” he says. “I wanna watch you fuck her.”

I freeze. I’m not even sure I heard him right. The words hang in the air like smoke, thick and choking. I don’t say anything at first. My mind is whirring, recalculating, and then the reality of his words slams into me.

He’s giving me first dibs? Like it’s some twisted apology? Or some sick fantasy? I’m not sure which. His voice echoes in my head. I wanna watch you fuck her.

A sick laugh bubbles up in my chest, but I swallow it down.

I should be pissed. I should be. I should be fighting for control, pushing back against whatever power he thinks he has over me. But I’m not. Instead, I step forward, eyes narrowing as I look down at her.

Her chest rises and falls slowly, still wet from the lake.

Her hair’s a tangled mess, her face flushed with the cold.

She looks relieved by his words. And that stirs something in me.

I imagine taking her virginity while Caleb watches.

I glance at him, wondering if he’s not as heartless as I thought.

Caleb’s got that smirk on his face again, like he knows exactly what’s running through my mind.

Like he’s controlling the whole fucking situation.

And it pisses me off. But there’s a part of me that can’t deny the tension, the charge in the air between us.

I could take her. Hell, I could’ve taken her any time, but the idea of claiming her like this, with Caleb’s permission, it makes the back of my teeth ache.

“You’re really just handing her over, huh?” I ask, not quite a question. It’s more of a challenge.

He shrugs, taking a step closer. “You and her have something, and I want to watch. Plus you’ve been wanting this, haven’t you? I’m just making it easier for you.”

Easier. God, the way he says it makes my skin crawl. But he’s not wrong. I’ve wanted this. I’ve wanted her.

I look at her again. Her face is still twisted in confusion, maybe even fear, but her eyes flicker toward me like she knows what’s coming. Like she’s not sure if she wants me or him, but she knows she can’t escape it.

I can’t believe I’m standing here, waiting for permission. It feels like I’m the one who’s lost control. Not her. Not Caleb. Me.

I take a step closer, moving toward the couch where she’s lying. Caleb watches, arms crossed, his gaze never leaving me. He’s waiting for me to make my move. To claim her, just like he said.

I reach down, brushing a strand of wet hair off her forehead. She flinches, eyes snapping open. I see the flash of fear there, and something inside me snaps. I want to erase that fear. I want to make her mine.