Page 8 of The Retreat

“What is worse than killing someone? Did you lose all your money?” Oliver acts baffled.

“I married Colin.”

“Excuse me?”

FOUR

Colin

Finding my dear husband and his twin brother was easy…once Isaac told me where they were. How the hell did Owen find them so fast? I should probably feel bad for guilting Isaac into telling me, but I don’t, so fuck it.

It doesn’t matter.

I climb down the steps of the plane they sent for me, because of course they did, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see Isaac. It really would not have surprised me to learn that Oliver had a plane sent for me only to take me to some remote, deserted island.

The driver of the car Isaac is standing next to opens the back door for us, and after a quick hug, we get in. I sigh when my ass hits the comfortable leather seats and exhaustion threatens to pull me under.

“So, what the hell?” Isaac demands.

I flop my head to the side and see him with his arms crossed, shoulders squared, and a lifted eyebrow.

“I don’t have the energy for dramatics today.” I sigh again. I’m so damn tired. I don’t think I’ve slept since waking up in that damn Vegas hotel suite. How long ago was that? A day? Two? I have no idea.

“I’ll be a lot more dramatic if you don’t start spilling the tea.”

Okay, apparently living with Oliver is giving Isaac an attitude…I’m both proud and annoyed.

“I don’t actually know, okay? But the very idea of a fucking Godfrey marrying my little sister–a child–makes me want to commit violent acts of premeditated murder.” I suck in a breath before continuing. “So, I did what I had to do.” I shrug. “Found Owen drinking at a bar, got him drunker, and convinced him to marry me. Simple.”

Isaac blinks at me, his eyes a little glassed over. “Simple. Right.” He shakes his head, probably shaking my genius from his mind. “You know Oliver is going to kill you, right? Like there is no way this is going to go well. And I can’t save you from him.”

I shrug again and lean against the seat, closing my eyes for the rest of the drive.

“He’s strangely protective of Owen. You have no idea what you’ve just done.” Isaac’s voice is softer, but I’m not sure if that’s his volume or me sinking into blackness.

I’m jolted awake by Isaac. The door of the car opens, and the bright, tropical sun is shining on my face. Fucking sun.

“Come on, they’re inside.”

I unceremoniously drag myself from the car and follow my new family member up the path toward the villa. I have to admit that it’s gorgeous. Beautiful teal ocean and white sand beaches, tropical plants with big leaves and bright flowers.

Oliver’s voice carries on the wind, bringing his conversation with my new husband to us at the front of the building.

“Life is so much easier when you aren’t letting other people drown you. I’m proud of you. For the first time, you didn’t make a choice based on what anyone else thought. You picked you.” That cocky, self-entitled tone is definitely Oliver.

“You’re proud of me?” The shock in Owen’s voice would be comical if it didn’t sound so heartfelt.

“I am. Now get off this fucking island before I pick me and strangle you so I can have alone time with my husband.”

I glance at Isaac, who is also eavesdropping with me, and I smirk when his face turns pink. Like we don’t all know they’re here to fuck themselves into oblivion. I am self-aware enough to know I’m jealous about it since I don’t see myself having sex anywhere in the near future.

“Can’t I at least stay for?—”

“No.” Oliver’s tone is final, and gods how it makes me want to rile him up. There really is nothing more fun than pissing him off.

“Fucking rude. But at least you said you’re proud of me and I picked well.” I smile at Owen’s words, but stop when Oliver speaks.

“No, do not put words in my mouth. I said you picked you. I never said well.”

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