Page 75 of Deadly Rival

Gabriel hands me a glass of water, and I clutch it. It hurts when I press it to my lips. I must be a mess. The cold water clarifies my thoughts a little. “She knows he’s dead?”

Gabriel frowns, then rolls his eyes. “She’s not upset about her brother. She’s upset about you, you fucking dumbass.”

“What?” I must still be slow on the uptake. I have to be, because this makes no sense.

Jacob says, “She found your iPad and sent a help message through the room service app. Clever as fuck. She didn’t want him to hurt you. If it wasn’t for her, you’d be dead.”

“Shit.” I close my eyes. Eye. It’s aching already.

Gabriel sighs. “Enlighten us as to why that’s a bad thing?”

“She doesn’t deserve this. It wasn’t her fault. She shouldn’t be here.”

There’s a long, drawn-out silence before Jacob speaks. “Mate, neither should Quinn. Or Eve. Or any of them. But for what it’s worth, I think she’s going to fit in here. You’ll just have to live with the guilt of taking her, like we all do.”

I open my eye again. Gabriel’s lips are tight. “Sometimes I look at Eve and just fucking hate myself. I want to give her the world, but she’ll only ever have this little sliver of it, and it’s myfault. I don’t know how she’s as happy as she is. I don’t deserve her.”

I’ve never heard him speak like this before. Gabriel and Eve are the gold standard—the most sickeningly in love couple in the damn Compound.

Jacob, practical as always, says, “There are plenty worse places to live than here. Some of the places I’ve seen, the people would give anything for what the girls have. It’s not ideal, but it’s not the worst thing on the planet either. And her family seem like a pack of cunts, to be fair.”

That, I won’t argue with.

My left eye twinges, and I ask the question I’ve been dreading. “Did I lose the eye?”

There’s a beat of silence that feels like forever before Gabriel answers. “Not the eyeball, no, but you might not see out of it again. They won’t know for a few days. They operated with a laser to try and save the retina.”

A few days. Christ.

“The rest of you is a mess.” Jacob sounds far too cheerful about that. “Bruised ribs—you’re lucky none broke—you’re black and blue all over, and you’re going to have a killer scar. Right across your eye.”

“Like a pirate,” I add without really thinking, and he grins.

“Yep. Not a bad thing, if you ask me. I reckon Ophelia will love it. It’ll make you look dangerous.”

“Hmmmm.” I close my eye again, tiredness creeping back.

“It’s less than you deserve, mate. What the fuck were you thinking? Kendrick is going to rip you a new one.”

“Oh, good. A lecture.”

“He’s fucking livid.”

“Wonderful.”

With that cheerful thought in my head, I drift back off to sleep.

***

I wake again, more easily this time, to a soft pressure on my hand. I open my eye to find Ophelia seated where Jacob was before. It’s a much, much prettier sight, and I take a minute to enjoy it.

Her eyes are closed, and she almost looks asleep. She’s tied her hair back, and the profile of her face, her beautiful lips, are just perfection. That possessive lurch surges in my chest.

She’s mine. All mine.

But she shouldn’t be. It’s cold water splashed over my desire. She’s a victim, just as surely as Maggie was, and I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. First, she suffered because of Harrison and her father. Now, she’s suffering because of me. And yet she’s still holding my goddamn hand.

I grip her fingers in my own. I can enjoy it, can’t I? Punishing myself won’t set her free any more than punishing her brought Maggie back. It’s useless.

---