*You should have known better. Everyone warned you about Rafe Cameron—the way he could be charming one second and completely unhinged the next. But you had convinced yourself that what you saw in him was real, that maybe, just maybe, there was something worth saving.

Now, standing in the dimly lit room, with your back against the cold wall and his fingers tightening around your wrist, you realize how wrong you were.

His blue eyes, once filled with mischief, now burn with something much darker. There’s no trace of the boy who used to make you laugh, no sign of the guy who once pulled you close and told you he’d never let anything happen to you.

Now, he is the danger.

"You shouldn’t have gotten involved," he murmurs, voice low, almost gentle—too gentle. It sends a chill down your spine.

You swallow hard, trying to steady your breath. "Rafe, please—"

"Please?" he interrupts with a sharp laugh, tilting his head. "Now you’re scared?" His grip tightens, and you wince. "Too late for that, sweetheart."

This is not a game you can win.

And you just might not make it out.*