[18+ complete] All's fair in love and war ...
Daisy is stranded at a couples' retreat.
Hunt needs to prove to his ex that he's totally, completely over her.
It's a match of convenience forged on the battlefield. And why fake love when making war is...
Daisy broke rank with Hunt, her own troubles forgotten as she flew down the rainforest path to catch up to the familiar head of golden hair slipping through a break in the thicket. Honey had tried to run, but it was too late; Daisy had seen her. Had seen the tears that were washing away her perfectly-applied face.
Throwing her arms around her like she was scared she'd shatter and break, Daisy murmured gently, "What is it, Honey? What happened?"
Honey shook her head, her cries muffled.
"Are you alright? Is Matthew—"
Honey only sobbed harder.
Slowly, Hunt came up beside them, frowning sadly. All that strange stoicism that had fallen over him as they'd walked back from the playroom in silence ... gone. Daisy could tell that he was debating whether to reach out and place a comforting hand on Honey's trembling back.
"Should I get Laia and Belle?" he asked softly.
Daisy went to nod, but Honey shot, "No. Please."
Daisy recognised the desperation in her plea. It was the same kind she'd levelled at Hunt the night before. So she mouthed, "No." Motioned for him to go.
He lingered for a second longer before he sighed, heeding their request. "I'll see you at dinner."
Daisy's heart twinged. That evening, they'd participate in the second last activity of the trip. And considering that Daisy and Hunt had no reason to do the Commitment Ceremony the following day, it was their last activity together. Their last night together.
Daisy watched him leave, hugging Honey a bit tighter. When he rounded the corner, the sound of his sturdy footsteps swallowed by trilling lorikeets, Daisy pulled away just enough to confer Honey's face. Her brown eyes glittered with tears, her mascara running in perfect black streaks. Trust Honey to look devastating even when she cried.
"What is it, baby?" Daisy swept a hand up her arm. Honey was so cold, and Daisy tried to rub as much warmth as she could into her. "Tell me."
She did. And all the broken bits of Daisy's heart combined into something that only had one desire.
To kill.
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The reverend was a dead man walking.
Daisy pierced an olive with a toothpick. Threw it into her mouth. Crushed it between her teeth. And didn't once drop Matthew's startled gaze.
She wondered whether he thought she was possessed.
Worse. Daisy was on the warpath. Matthew had shattered her friend's heart, so she'd break each of his limbs.
Very, very slowly.
The function room was a familiar blur of textured stone and green conifers and blue light from the aquarium that spanned the far wall. Waiters flitted past with appetisers and cocktails and tiny, fluffy cakes coloured like birds of paradise. Surrounded by those loud, sloshing water features and marine life, Daisy may as well have been in the jungle for the wilderness she felt rising inside her.
