Rival

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Discover more of Entangled Teen Crush’s books… Thunderstruck

  Lions and Tigers and Boys

  The Big Bad Wolf

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Cindy R. Wilson. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  2614 South Timberline Road

  Suite 105, PMB 159

  Fort Collins, CO 80525

  rights@entangledpublishing.com

  Crave is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

  Edited by Lydia Sharp

  Cover design by Mayhem Cover Creations

  Cover photography by Sofia_Zhuravets, mppriv, tuja66/Deposit Photos

  ISBN 978-1-64063-351-3

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition October 2019

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for supporting a small publisher! Entangled prides itself on bringing you the highest quality romance you’ve come to expect, and we couldn’t do it without your continued support. We love romance, and we hope this book leaves you with a smile on your face and joy in your heart.

  xoxo

  Liz Pelletier, Publisher

  To Libby—you were the perfect inspiration for writing a character who perseveres even when it feels like the world is against her.

  Chapter One

  Juno

  Juno waited until she could see the moon through the wooden slats of the boathouse, a bright slice of white that shone on her seat by the window. She zipped her jacket in the darkness and drew the hood over her head, ignoring the hunger that rumbled through her stomach.

  “Where are you going?” Pillar mumbled from her cot in the corner. “S’not morning yet.”

  “To check the nets,” Juno whispered, though they were the only two on duty tonight. “I’ll be back before our shift ends.”

  “But…”

  She walked over, barely able to make out Pillar’s shadowed form as she reclined on a blanket, half asleep.

  “I have to try to get something this time,” Juno said.

  “It’s probably just not…fish season.”

  Juno chuckled despite the nerves that hit her. “Every day is fish season.” She poked her friend in the side. “I’ll bring you back a big one with whiskers so you can give it a huge kiss.”

  “You’re disgusting.”

  Juno turned to check the crate by the bed. She found the old rusty whistle they always kept there in case they needed to call for help. They’d never had any problems before, but people from the other community had crossed the border before. It was more than possible they’d do it again.

  “You have your knife?” Juno asked, checking the sheath at her waist at the same time. Her makeshift knife was little more than a scrap of metal sharpened to a fine point, but she felt safer with it.

  “Yes, Mom.”

  She tucked her hair under her hood and straightened. If she was going to sound like a mom, she might as well do it all the way. “Don’t fall asleep.”

  Pillar sat up, tucking her knees under her chin. “You should take the whistle just in case.”

  “You need it. I won’t be long.” Especially if the nets were empty.

  “Be careful.”

  She grabbed her bucket by the door, then pulled a basket down from a coat hook as well. If she was lucky, it wouldn’t just be fish; there would be crab in the pots, too. She eased open the door and stepped into the night.

  Juno followed the light of the moon and the smell of salt in the air. The rest of her community was quiet, asleep in their shacks or the forgotten buildings they used as homes. Some of them stayed in makeshift tents on the edges of their territory, keeping watch over the perimeter.

  She saw the people from the other community near the perimeter often throughout the day, but they knew, just like she did, to stay on their side. Crossing over, even out of curiosity, would probably get her killed. Beat up at best.

  Even if they were the ones causing all the problems.

  Once she’d cleared the structure, Juno glanced to the west, far away from both communities. It was easy to see all the way to the inner city, over the tops of their fishing shacks and makeshift homes that weren’t much more than tents. A large dome of light covered the rich side of the district, even though it was still nighttime. They had to live like kings over there. Light all the time, food all the time. Maybe even a little fun. Instead of hunting for supplies every day, they could explore the tall buildings, have their meals delivered to them on plates. Go to a party.

  She scoffed at the thought. Fun? Whatever. Catching crab was fun. So was sleeping in the boathouse twice a week to guard their measly pile of scavenged food and supplies. Who needed parties when she had her tasks and chores, and parents who ran their community like they were the last people on earth?

  Okay, technically Rand and Stef weren’t her parents, but they were the only family she had besides Pillar. She’d finally convinced them to let her help with fishing and thinking about the Light District wasn’t going to help.

  Juno turned away from the buzz of lights when she felt sand beneath her shoes. Her feet sank in, and a quick breeze blew off her hood. She took a moment to let her eyes adjust, to scan the docks and the markers—which were her idea—that indicated where the nets and pots were. There were half a dozen of them, bright spikes of orange plastic from street signs she’d found a few weeks ago.

  For the last two days, the nets and pots had been almost empty. Her trial run at helping Pillar fish a few days a week wasn’t going well. It almost didn’t seem worth it anymore. Sometimes she thought it would be better not living here at all. She could leave the community and go live by the bridge like the wanderers over there. The ones without a safe territory like hers.

  Over there, the only enemy was hunger.

  When a shadow appeared near one of the docks, Juno drew in a sharp breath and dropped to her knees. Her hand rested on the handle of the knife. It was probably someone patrolling, one of their own. It had to be. Only an idiot would waltz into someone else’s territory, thinking they could get away with it.

  Juno kept still as she watched the figure. Dark clothes, cautious footsteps. Smart. But no one from her community would be sneaking around like that, because they had rules. They had stations wh
ere they were supposed to be every night.

  Which meant it was a neighbor.

  Her heart hammered in her chest, and her fingers tightened on the handle of her knife. She crawled forward, trying to follow the figure. Short hair, tall build, most likely male… Damn. What was she supposed to do? She hadn’t brought the whistle because she wasn’t supposed to be out here until morning. And what was a knife going to do if he had one of his own?

  Maybe he’d wander off when he realized he was in the wrong territory.

  Unless he was here on purpose.

  When he walked through the middle of her markers and straight to the nets and pots, her teeth clenched. She pulled out her knife. What the hell? Was he trying to get himself killed?

  She rose to her feet, sand catching in her shoes and in the cuffs of her pants as she crept in his direction.

  He waded into the water and pulled at one of the nets, leaning close to the surface. Probably looking for fish. Her fish. No wonder the pots and nets had been empty the last few days.

  He’d been stealing her catch.

  She gasped and then slapped a hand over her mouth to cover her shock, even though it still rolled through the rest of her body. How could he? Stealing was the lowest of lows—especially when every piece of food counted.

  The sand grew wet beneath Juno’s feet, making it easier for her to move quickly to the side of the dock. She pressed her shoulder against one of the wooden posts and steadied herself with a long breath before pulling her hood back over her hair.

  If he was from the neighboring community, he was breaking the rules. And if he was stealing from her territory, he was at the mercy of her people.

  Which meant she had to bring him in.

  She readied her knife. Tonight, she’d be catching something better than fish. She’d be catching a thief.

  Chapter Two

  Maddox

  This was the second time Maddox had risked coming to the dock this week, dozens of feet inside the border of the enemy’s territory, but he was too curious to stop.

  The first time, he hadn’t meant to go in so far, but he’d seen the markers on the beach and wanted to know what they were for. If he could find another way to help feed the community, it didn’t hurt to do a little surveillance. At least, that’s what his brother, Theo, would tell him. Do what’s necessary to get what you need.

  But Maddox couldn’t stop the flicker of guilt he felt each time he stepped foot across the paved road that separated his side from theirs. The border was there for a reason. He just couldn’t help but think it made more sense to work together instead of fighting over something that had happened in the past.

  Besides, they were catching fish over here, and that was worth the risk. He’d give up a week’s worth of rats to have fresh fish.

  So he’d lied to Theo and his mom about tonight. He’d told them he’d go scavenging close to the bridge, where he’d heard a rebel group of Darksiders was stealing food and supplies from the Light District. If there was a way they could stock up, his family would want in. And they had nothing against the people who lived by the bridge.

  It was the nearby territory that was the enemy.

  His mom would kill him if she knew Maddox was here.

  But fish.

  He was quiet and careful as he approached the water, continuing to watch the shore for any danger. He spotted the nets easily, just between the orange markers someone had put up. But when his shoe caught on a line of rope, he cursed and stumbled, catching himself so he wouldn’t drop face-first into the water.

  Maddox squinted and reached for the rope. He gave it a tug. Heavy. He pulled with both hands, dragging in the line until he saw some sort of basket, something like the metal traps he used for rats. But this one wasn’t holding a rat. It was holding…a crab?

  He blinked. Why hadn’t his community done something like this a long time ago? Fish and crab? They’d have food every single day. They’d—

  A flicker of movement in the corner of his eye had Maddox jumping to his feet, stomach dropping in a moment of pure panic. He whipped around just in time to dodge a kick aimed right at his middle.

  Water splashed on his pants as he stumbled backward into the surf. The person was smaller than him, lunging faster than he could blink. He reached automatically for his knife—a sharp piece of metal he’d scavenged from the bridge—but their attack came too fast.

  One minute he was dodging a blade, and the next, he was flat on his back. Waves surged up the shore. They splashed his face, and he choked on a mouthful of water, barely rolling out of the way when the attacker came at him again. He blinked through the sting of saltwater to get his bearings. Then he swept his leg out and felt it connect. Years of instinct from fighting with his brother had him up in an instant. He yanked out his knife, crouched over the figure, and pressed the blade to their throat.

  “Thief!” she shouted.

  Maddox almost dropped the knife when he heard a woman’s voice. And when her hood fell back, revealing long hair that looked almost black in the surf, his breath caught. A girl? That’s who’d brought him down?

  She’d lost her knife, and he caught the glint of it next to her in the sand. When she shifted to grab it, he pressed his blade closer to her throat. “Don’t you dare.”

  In the soft glow of the moonlight, he saw her cheeks flush with anger.

  “How many times?” she bit out. “How many times have you come out here?”

  His jaw tightened. How had she known he’d been out here before? Had she been watching? Of course. It only made sense. Theo and his mom had people stationed all around their perimeter at various times throughout the day. It stood to reason they’d do the same thing here.

  “You know what the penalty is for—for stealing,” she hissed. But behind the anger in her voice, he heard fear.

  He straightened, mouth snapping open. “I wasn’t stealing.”

  “Then where are my fish?”

  He choked on a laugh. “How the hell should I know?”

  In that moment of amusement, he’d dropped his guard enough for her snatch up her knife. She swiped it so close to his face he had no choice but to jerk back. She scrambled to her feet, eyes flashing in the moonlight.

  Water dripped from his hair and face. His clothes were soaked and covered in sand, and she wasn’t faring any better. But that didn’t make her hesitate.

  She pointed the knife at him, and he had to admire her fearlessness. “You’re—you’re coming with me,” she said.

  “Coming with you?”

  “Yes. Right now.”

  “Right now?”

  “Stop repeating everything I say,” she snapped.

  His lips twitched. There was something endearing about her even as the fierceness shone through.

  “You stole from my community and…and…now you have to deal with the consequences.”

  His smile vanished immediately. His gaze traveled to the buildings shadowed behind her, as another flicker of panic raced through him. He might be able to take on one person, but a whole community?

  Not just that, but a whole community who thought he’d been stealing? They’d kill him without a second thought.

  Distract her. That’s what he needed to do—at least until he knew he was safe.

  He glanced at the rope he’d been dragging in. “These are yours? The traps? The nets?”

  “They’re called pots. And yes, they’re mine.”

  Impressive. Too bad she was trying to impale him—he’d like to ask her a few questions.

  “You’re coming with me,” she said again.

  Slowly, he got to his feet. He gave a small smile when she backed up a step, but held out his hands, the knife still in one. “Just standing up. And no, I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  He’d fight her again if it meant not getting caught. He might not have a problem with the people on this side of the border, but that didn’t mean he trusted them. He’d been young when his father had died, but he kn
ew it was in a fight with this same community. He’d been raised to stay cautious.

  But she didn’t look like a killer. In fact, all she seemed to want was to get her fish back.

  Her voice rose. “Come with me. Right now.”

  “Are you serious? I have a knife, too.” He waved it at her. “And if someone took your fish, it was probably someone from your own community.”

  The fire in her eyes could have seared him if he’d been standing any closer. He had to give her credit. She was a fighter. And she was doing exactly what she was supposed to be doing by confronting him.

  Which made the guilt flicker again. “I didn’t steal your fish or anything else. I was just looking.”

  “For—for what?”

  He jerked his thumb toward the water. “Looking. At the nets.”

  To see how it was done, which he’d never admit to her. Another thing his brother would kill him over. They didn’t need help from outsiders—especially not ones that’d take them out if given a chance.

  “You crossed the perimeter,” she said, knife still aimed in his direction.

  That dangerous look in her eye said she’d swing at him again if he provoked her. “Like I said, I was just looking at the nets. I’ll leave now.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You—you can’t. You broke the rules. You can’t just—”

  “Who’s going to stop me?” Maddox lifted his own knife, studying the length of the blade with what light he had from the moon. He grinned. “Mine’s bigger than yours.”

  Her cheeks flushed, but he didn’t miss the quick moment of indecision on her face. Then she lowered her knife. “If I ever see you back here again…”

  Maddox lost the grin. What was that supposed to mean? She was really letting him go? She was supposed to hate him and his people just as much as they hated hers.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, sheathing the knife and backing up to keep an eye on her. “I’ll never come back.”

  But the moment it was out of his mouth, it felt like a lie. Even though he didn’t trust anyone on this side of the border, it still seemed ridiculous for their communities to be at war with each other when they could help each other with food. But that’s the way it was.