17. Everything

SEVENTEEN

EVERYTHING

C lay answers me without my even having to ask the question.

"Everything, babe. From bleeding myself enough to store up a supply to splash over the car to arranging for Tommy to convince you to move back to Gullhaven… buying the island. Inviting everyone who's ever hurt you to ti. Killing them off all one by one?—"

"I got to kill Madison," Tommy cuts in proudly. "Clay helped me string her up after he was done with Summer?—"

"Had to make her look like a puppet," interrupts Clay. "After all, when Madison opened her mouth, Summer's voice came out."

Tommy nods. "That' right. But I want you to know that I wasn't afraid of killing for you, either, Cyn. I would do anything for you."

"We've proven it, baby. You always want proof. You always needed to see that someone cared about you. Well, this is it. I sacrificed five years without my wife to give you a chance to find happiness with Tommy. He let me take you with me to New Jersey in the first place.

"And now it's time we get what we worked so hard for so long for."

There's something about the way these two murderers are staring at me now that have me seconds away from turning from them, bolting through the back again, and taking my chances in the woods.

Silly Cyn. You should've known better than to run from your husband…

Clay will chase me. Now I know that Tommy will, too. Nothing will stop them from getting what they want.

And, fucking hell, they want me .

But I play dumb. I pretend I don't know what they're talking about. Gulping, I say in a ragged voice, "And what is that?"

"We get to share you."

"Share me?" Like the three of us play house or something? We put the murders on Halo Island behind us, vanish far away from Gullhaven, then I become a bigamist? Share? I… I don't share. "Clay, this is insane. Both of you, stay away from me."

"Oh, Cyn. You know better than to think I can ever do that. Even when I was ‘dead', I was there. Told you. I'll always be there. I'm a part of you now and forever. And Tommy will, too. Won't you, Tommy?"

"I love you," he gasps. "I did this because I love you. Please tell me you love me, too."

I can't. Not right now.

Not when I'm coming to terms with the fact that everything that we had—everything I thought I knew—was a lie.

I thought Clay broke my heart anew earlier tonight when he admitted that Tommy and Summer were having an affair. I can't even bring myself to confront Tommy about that, and hearing that Clay left me all those years ago because his best friend told him to…

Wait.

They want to share me. They want to be a part of me.

They—

"Share me?" I demand. "What the fuck do you mean?"

Clay's hand dips into his pocket. When he pulls out that small bottle of lube from before, I know exactly what he means.

I hold up my hands. "No."

"No?" echoes Clay. His lips twitch, amused. "You going to deny your husband? Your lover? You never have before."

His free hand ghosts over his pocket. I know what's in there. The dirty, used condom from earlier is stashed inside kind of fucking trophy.

"You're sick," I spit at him. "I already gave you what you wanted, Clay. Now you want more ?"

His eyes flash. "I want everything ."

I know. That's why he snuck into my bed and fucked me, purposely letting me believe that it was Tommy who came all over me. When Clay admitted that to me after I found Summer and Madison, it didn't make sense. I mean, I believed him. Part of me knew instinctively that the man with the husky voice and the possessive touch had to have been my husband. Once I knew the truth, that he was alive , I knew it was him.

But Tommy…

Summer is dead, yet I still can't bring myself to regret one of our last exchanges. She thought she could accuse me of murder, and I responded by throwing it in her face that my alibi revolved around Tommy and me fucking. I remember how pissed she looked, and I thought it was because she hated how I one-upped her. Of course, now I know it's because she was blackmailing my boyfriend into fucking her on the regular. If Tommy and Clay were working together toward murder, just like Billy Loomis and Stu Macher, maybe that night was all part of the plan.

Clay got his chance to have sex with me before I learned the truth while Tommy was… what? Fucking Summer? There's no denying that they were together, supposedly searching for Tyler and Vee, but was that what they were really doing? Tommy wasn't with me, though, and when I threw it in Summer's face that I thought he was , he never reacted. He went along with it instead of being confused that I was covered in come like I claimed, but it wasn't his.

Did he think I was making it up to annoy Summer? Or did he keep from reacting because he already knew that Clayton Rivers fucked me while he was indisposed?

Is that why he wants to fuck me now?

Everything about Tommy changed the moment Clay pulled out the bottle of lube. Before, he was careful, letting Clay explain their grand plan, ducking his head a little when Clay confessed that this was all Tommy's initial idea, that he's spent ten years plotting a way to get me back in his life for good.

Because he couldn't be without me. Because he managed to convince Clay that, even while I wear his ring, Tommy had the prior claim to me. Like he ‘called' me by being my first fuck, my first love, and he'd rather take his turn however he could than know I'd never be with him.

But Clay… he was my husband . He won. He pursued me, he did every dirty trick in the book he could when we were kids to convince me to choose him over Tommy. For fuck's sake, we had a full-blown affair for months before I finally confessed to my high school sweetheart that I was running away to New Jersey with his best friend… Clay would lose it whenever another guy paid me any attention, but he's willing to share me with Tommy?

And that's why, I realize as Tommy watches me with an expression of desire, need, and fucking hope . It's not just some guy. It's Tommy, and though I'm clearly still technically married since Clay's alive, I don't think I was that far off-base when I suspected he was going to propose to me during our stay on the island.

Both of these men want forever. They want it so badly that they've killed in order to get it, and now that they've laid their offer at my feet, they expect me to sacrifice myself to them next.

Only I'm not their next victim. I'm the final girl in this slasher film. I've survived, and my prize for making it to the end of this horror movie is the two killers taking their turns fucking me.

No. I see the expectant look on Clay's face as he gives the bottle of lube a little shake. I see the hunger on Tommy's. Clay's not-too-subtle gesture toward his pocket. The way Tommy is prowling slightly, his body coiled, everything about him telling me he's ready to pounce.

I glare at Clay. "Damn it, Clay. You really are a sick fuck, aren't you? You didn't fuck me in the ass because you knew that's something I've only ever done with you. You did it because you planned on doing it again in front of Tommy and wanted to make sure I was ready."

Tommy winces. Looks like I hit a sore spot when I mentioned my newly sore spot. For all their talk of making this a threesome where both of the guys are devoted for me, Tommy is as jealous as Clay is. He asked me once for anal, I flatly refused, and he never mentioned it again.

Now he knows why, and I make a note of how he reacts.

They think they own me. They think I'll just listen and do what they want because they killed for me.

We'll see about that.

Clay doesn't even deny my accusations. "You're mostly right, Cyn. I love your pussy, but that ass is mine. Some things should be saved for your husband." He growls out the world, making it even more obvious that Clay thinks the title means something extra to him. That it's something else that Tommy can't claim… "But I don't plan on just fucking your ass in front of Tommy. There'll be plenty of time for that once we're off this goddamn island. But tonight? We're going to show you what it took us too fucking long to accept. You belong to both of us. That means you're going to fuck both of us." He twists the cap off the lube. "At the same time."

My traitorous pussy clenches as I instantly imagine what it would be like to have both Clay and Tommy inside of me at the same time.

I could do it. I'm pretty confident I can. Maybe if Clay hadn't already shoved his thick cock into my ass already tonight—or he didn't have that bottle of lube—I'd be looking for a way to get past these two guys before they fucked me in half. If they were careful not to hurt me, I think I could take them both at the same time… I've just never thought I ever would.

Fuck. Fuck . Is this my punishment or another ‘gift' from my husband? I loved Clay with everything I had. More than that, I trusted him with all the secret, dark parts of me that not even Tommy's ever seen.

This isn't just their twisted fantasy come true. It's also mine .

I mentioned it to Clay once. When we were first fucking like bunnies all over his empty house, exploring each other, exploring our sexualities… I asked him if we could bring Tommy into our game. That's what it was. Before I loved him, I was so incredibly sexually combustible with him, I would've burned even without his damn touch.

His reaction still haunts me to this day. He swore, if I ever fucked another man—even Tommy—that he'd kill him, then himself. Not me. Never me. But he couldn't live with knowing that I ever wanted anyone more than I wanted him.

When he died, I wondered. It was all so… staged. That's what confused the Little Falls police. Enough blood to make it obvious he couldn't survive, his car hidden but not really, the ID and phone left behind so they could figure out who their victim was… but no body. No motive. Just a missing man who never really was missing at all.

I never cheated again. I know they say that once a cheater, always a cheater, but Clay was it for me. If I can believe him, I was it for him.

And now, all these years later, he's invited Tommy into our game. Because of his own regrets? Or because he's trying to give me everything I wanted back then to make up for walking away five years ago?

They planned this. Clay watched me from the shadows, and Tommy was always there so, even if I did want to find another guy, they wouldn't have let me. And to prove that they mean it when they say that they've come to the agreement to share me, Clay's offering me the one thing I asked for way back then: a threesome with both of the men I loved.

And I'm such a glutton for punishment that I'm suddenly so aroused, I hurt .

Tommy takes a hesitant step toward me. He sees the look of pain twisted my face and gets the totally wrong idea. He thinks I'm rejecting him when, God fucking damn it, I'm already imagining him thrusting inside of me as Clay works his cock back into my ass.

And then he gives me that old puppy-dog look, like he's begging at my feet, waiting to see if he'll get a treat… or get kicked. "Cyn. I… Listen. If you don't want to be with me… if you can't know that you know the truth?—"

Fury replaces the want and need rushing through my veins. Thanks, Tommy. I needed the reminder that you're a liar, just like my husband.

"Which truth?" I ask, turning my venom on him. "That you've been fucking Summer behind my back? Or that you knew my husband was alive and never told me?"

Tommy's eyes go wild. "She knew, Cyn. I don't know how she found out. Only Clay and me were supposed to know. She would've told?—"

And that excuses it?

"I don't care. You cheated on me." Hypocritical Cyn, but I don't give a shit. "You said you loved me and you were with her ."

Tommy sends a killing look at Clay. My husband shrugs as if to say that this is Tommy's shitshow, even if Clay is the one who told me about Tommy and Summer.

He grits his teeth. "I wore a condom every time. I scrubbed her off of me. I never came home to you with her on me, Cyn. I fucking swear it. It was like using a damn fleshlight. That's how much she meant to me."

When I don't say anything, he surges forward, taking my head in his hands, forcing me to see the sincerity—and the insanity—in his deep blue eyes.

"You're the only one who does. Who ever has. There isn't anything I won't do for you."

Including Summer fucking Kaye.

"Did you fuck her on the island?" I whisper.

He shakes his head with such force, mine follows along with it. "What? No. Why do you think she was so bitchy the whole time? She kept trying to sneak away from Tyler for a quickie, but I couldn't even fake it. Not when I was so close to getting rid of her for once and for all."

Jerking out of Tommy's hold, I search for Clay.

He holds up his hands, careful not to spill the lube. "I didn't see what they were doing, babe. Remember? I was too busy fucking you ."

Tommy winces again. I glare at Clay. "I thought you were Tommy."

Clay's answering grin is cocky. "Did you really?"

He's not going to get me to admit that, half-asleep, when it was over—maybe in the middle of it—I fantasized that it was Clay. Because I knew? Because, somehow, I sensed that the man fucking me was my husband, not my boyfriend?

"It doesn't matter?—"

"Oh, Cyn, but it does . You see, Tommy is so wound up, poor guy's going to fucking explode. He wouldn't let Summer touch him. And you… well, you thought you already did. But the truth is that Tommy hasn't gotten laid since we've been on the island together. You've spent the last two years with him. I've watched you together, biding my time, waiting my turn. He's twenty-eight. Prime of his fucking life. You think he can go days without getting off when he has such a tempting girlfriend as Cynthia Rivers?"

Oh, Clay. If he really has been watching me, we both know damn well that I dropped his name after I accepted he was gone. I'm Cynthia Preston, and I was Tommy's girlfriend… and now I don't know what I am.

Halo Island has a habit of stealing from me. Now I feel like I've lost the core of who I was even as Clay watches me, waiting for me to deny everything else he just said.

When I don't, his expression turns to one of triumph. He nods at Tommy. "Drop your pants. Take out your cock. Let her see."

Not even an ounce of hesitation about removing his pants in front of Clay. Tommy unbuttons his jeans, unzips, then shoves both his pants and his boxer briefs down past his ass.

As his erection springs free, hard and stiff and weeping at the tip, Clay nods in approval and Tommy's eyes return to me.

From the second they admitted they were in on this whole thing together, I couldn't help but wonder who the truly dominant partner was. The mastermind. The one in complete control over the other.

Growing up, they seemed so equal. If anything, Tommy was the more outgoing of the two. I know now that Clay seemed more inclined to lurk in his shadow because he was obsessing over the fact that Tommy had something he wanted. And once Clay had it, Tommy didn't give up. He planned this. He used his lifelong influence over Clay to convince him that they each get a turn to love me, and once I couldn't resist either of them any longer, we'd live happily fucking ever after together.

But when it comes to sex, Clay has something Tommy doesn't: his ring on my finger. That gives him an edge, and he runs with it as he reaches into his back pocket, pulling out another condom.

Just one, I notice. And though Tommy is the one with the obvious erection, he doesn't hand it to him.

Instead, Clay moves behind me. He lays his hand on the back of my neck, maneuvering my head until I have no choice but to take in Tommy's need for me.

"Look at him," he grates. "Look at how desperate he is for you."

Clay trails his hand down my back, the condom wrapper between his fingers rustling as he does. When he reaches the waistband of my dirty jeans, he slips his hand beneath it. Without any panties to stop him, his finger deftly caresses my puckered asshole. I stifle my moan, but it's too late. His husky chuckle on my skin tells me he heard it.

He shoves his hand further into my pants. It's his turn to groan now. "Tommy," he says. "Get on the bed."

Tommy doesn't hesitate. He climbs onto the bed, back against the pillows, and strokes his cock, waiting for what's next.

I know what's next, even before Clay waves his hand at me. "Go on, baby. Don't keep him like that. You wouldn't want him to get blue balls."

I scoff at Clay. "That might've worked on me when I was seventeen, dickhead. I know better now."

And, yet, I'm already padding toward the bed.

Tommy holds onto his cock, his gaze imploring me once more. "You don't have to do this," he tries again.

Oh. I know. I don't have to do anything.

But as I lift my shirt up and over my head, I admit if only for tonight: I want to.

"That's my girl," Clay murmurs, voice as proud as when Tommy confessed he was responsible for Madison's murder. "Now go on. Spread that pussy for Tommy. Show me what you have that was worth corrupting such a good man."

Tommy gulps, patting the bed next to him.

Good man? He's a murderer. They both are.

And that's still not going to stop me.