I let him pull me up, and my body quaked uncontrollably. I was still trying to calm down from almost drowning, but as soon as another streak of lightning shot across the sky, the situation hit me head-on.

Too much water.

All around me.

My heart pounded in my ears, galloping at an unbearable speed as panic took over. A keening cry tore from my lips, and I doubled over, hugging my midsection as the world around me tilted. “Why?” That single word squeezed from my throat. “Why would you bring me here?”

“Why do you think?” Shaking his head, Rafe glanced at Jax, who stood off to the side observing the drama unfolding between Rafe and me. “I knew you couldn’t escape, but I never thought you’d run and almost get yourself killed!”

I decided not to point out the fact that any sane person would try to run. “Where are we? What is this place?”

“Mason Island.” He swept the area with a hand. “But since you’re so set on leaving, there’s a boat at the dock. Feel free.”

“You know I can’t!”

“Don’t I know it,” he said with a sinister laugh. “Why do you think I brought you here?” He pushed me back enough so his eyes bored into mine. “You’ll fucking do as I say because there’s nowhere for you to go. We both know you won’t come anywhere near this water again.”

“I hate you!” I screamed, pounding on his chest.

He easily deflected the blows. “Not nearly as much as I hate you. Now move your ass.” He pulled me away from the river, toward the cabin, I assumed. I stumbled along numbly, eyes on the ground, one foot in front of the other, and never quite registered anything around me. I could only think of one thing.

Water. Too much water.

He hadn’t needed to lock me up. My fear held me prisoner more effectively than any conventional method he could have used. The chains, the shackles, the cage—they’d all been props to mess with my head. As I followed him back toward the cabin, something inside me finally broke. My fear of water stemmed from a near-drowning experience when I was four, and I’d never learned to swim.

Rafe had known. He’d been the one to fish me out of my family’s pool when I was fourteen, after Zach “accidentally” knocked me in. My brother had been particularly mean that day, probably because Rafe had stopped by, and I hadn’t been able to keep my eyes off him.

How ironic that my phobia was his most powerful weapon.

The three of us entered the cabin through the door off the kitchen, and Rafe switched on a light. Unable to stop shivering, I wrapped my arms around myself and clenched my jaw to stop my teeth from clanking together.