I’m going to throw up.
I’m going to—
Hot liquid spills on my back, and the sounds of gurgles echo in the air. At first, I think they’re mine. I think I’m choking on my spit or vomit, but then the weight disappears from my back.
It falls to the floor in front of me with a thud. I catch a glimpse of a convulsing body, a pool of blood beneath him, and those god-awful haunting gurgles keep filling my ears.
A large shadow blocks the view and then I’m turned and fully cocooned against the familiar warmth. The warmth I thought I would never feel again.
The scent of his cologne envelops me like a second hug—leather, pine, and warmth.
“Cecily…fuck. Cecily! Can you hear me?”
A broken moan leaves my throat the moment I see his face, all hard, dark, and murderous. I try to open my lips to say something, but they won’t move.
And neither do my hands or limbs.
I’m still paralyzed, at someone else’s mercy, but I don’t feel threatened.
If anything, I’m finally safe.
I’ve never felt as safe in my life as I do in these arms.
Slowly, too slowly, I close my eyes, letting a tear escape down the side of my face.
Safe.
“Cecily!”
Safe.
I. Am. Safe.
* * *
I wakeup in the hospital a day later.
Lethargic. Tired. Sad.
I cry when I open my eyes and Mum hugs me, then Papa, then Ava.
But I don’t stop crying. There’s this ache in my chest that won’t go away no matter how much I cry. As if I’m back to when I was roaming the streets before I found myself at that shelter.
Everyone fawns over me, including Remi, who says he won’t annoy me for a month and that if I dare getting hurt again, he’ll kick my arse.
The girls, Ava, Glyn, and Anni, remain by my side the most, bringing snacks behind the nurse’s back and staying around so we can watch films together.
This time I made a report to the police, both for the recent incident and two years ago. It was hard, and the more I talked about the events, the more nauseated I got, but I had my parents’ and friends’ support. Papa let me cry against his chest the first night, told me he was sorry he didn’t know and that he’d make sure Jonah pays.
Zayn, too, when they catch him.
But they won’t.
I might have been drugged, but I know what that gurgling sound I heard meant and that the liquid that covered my back was blood.
Jeremy killed him. No doubt about it. He sliced his throat open, left him spasming on the floor and then took me to the hospital.
Ilya or one of his guards probably took care of the corpse and the cleaning, because Annika told me they found nothing in the shelter, and the surveillance camera footage was erased.
Despite knowing that Jeremy is the type of unhinged to send people to the A&E and prison, I thought I would feel disgusted that he killed someone.
I’m not.
Not in the slightest.
Zayn was a serial rapist, even worse than Jonah, and he hurt so many other girls aside from me—girls who probably have it harder than me because they don’t remember. I can’t imagine the pain they went through if they woke up and found out they’d been raped.
People like him don’t deserve human rights or the regulated justice system. They deserve brutal execution that only someone like Jeremy would deliver.
I’ve spent three days in the hospital. They’re keeping me under surveillance in case of a concussion since my head hit the floor, and I’ll probably leave tomorrow.
Jeremy hasn’t come to my room at all during these three days.
Ilya did once. I asked him how Jeremy knew I was at the shelter, and he bluntly said that they have a tracker on my phone and that was the last location it sent them before it was turned off.
I wasn’t even surprised. There were often instances in the past when Jeremy found me without having to call me.
When I keep staring at the door, Annika says Jeremy’s always outside. Not once has he come into my room, and I doubt that has to do with the fact that Papa is constantly by my side.
At times, I think it’s a good thing that he’s not here. At least this way, I can gather my thoughts and process the pain. Other times, I’m angry at him for not wanting to see me.
And I’ve had enough of this stupid in-between.
So tonight, after Ava and Mum fall asleep beside me, I sneak out of the room and quietly close the door behind me.
“What are you doing out here? Go back inside.”
My spine jerks at the very familiar rough voice, and I carefully turn around to be crushed by Jeremy’s handsome looks.
He’s wearing jeans and a black T-shirt that tightens around his muscular biceps. His hair is a mess, and his face looks tired, but his gray eyes are as dark and intense as ever.
He’s really right by the door, where Papa totally sees him whenever he goes in and out of my room.
And that pisses me off even more.
I cross my arms over my chest. “If you’re here, why haven’t you visited?”
A purse of his lips, a tightening of his jaw, a stroke of his finger against his thigh. “I thought you might need some time.”
“Some time for what? Oh, right, you let me go, didn’t you? You told me to run and never come back. Right before I was assaulted.”
He takes a step toward me, and I can feel my insides crumbling and smashing on the ground. “Cecily…”
I hold up a hand. “Don’t come any closer.”
Jeremy stops dead in his tracks, his hand balling into a fist by his side before he forces it open. The hall’s silence beats between us like another being for several long seconds, nearly suffocating us.
I mean to organize my thoughts before I say them, but everything is so raw that it’s impossible to make sense of the chaos. So I let it all out. Emotions, desperation, and pain.
Everything.
“Do you have any idea how much you hurt me that night? How much you stomped all over my feelings as if they meant nothing?”
“I—”
“No, don’t talk. Right now, you’ll listen. I told you time and again that I’m over my crush on Landon. In fact, I remember saying that I realized it wasn’t even a crush in the first place and that he didn’t matter.”
“You called his name,” he says in a clipped tone.
“What?”
“That first night I fucked you on the deck, you called me by his name.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“I know what I fucking heard, Cecily.”
“And I know what I was fucking thinking!” I take a few breaths, then speak in a more composed tone. “I was going to say that he didn’t matter at that moment. In fact, that’s when I realized my crush on him was shallow. I never chose him over you, Jeremy. And except for that foolish mistake at the initiation, I never helped him. You can choose to believe me or not, but I’ve regretted spying for him every day since. I thought we were at a point in our relationship where we didn’t keep secrets from each other, which is why I told you about that incident when I could’ve chosen not to. I wanted to start with a clean slate with you, tell you everything, and do whatever it would take to gain your trust. I was wrong. While I didn’t expect you to forgive me immediately, I didn’t expect you to disrespect me and ridicule my feelings.”
He slowly closes his eyes, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think he was in pain. But that’s only me projecting my feelings and principles onto an unfeeling man.
I’m crying again, tears streaming down my cheeks and blurring my vision until he becomes distorted lines and shadows.
When he opens his eyes again, they’re clearer and almost remorseful. “I’m sorry. I was in pain thinking you’d never choose me, and I took it out on you.”
“If you trusted me even a little, you’d know I’d never do that to you. But you chose to stomp on my feelings, on the confession it took me so much courage to make. I told you I loved you, but you chose your anger and trust issues over me.”
“Fuck, Lisichka. I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.” He grabs my hand in his.
The skin where his fingers spread burns and it takes everything in me to ignore the effect his physical touch has on me.
“You nearly killed me in that alley.”
“I would never do that. I’d hurt myself before hurting you.”
“You already did, Jeremy! Maybe not physically, but you pierced my heart open with your rejection. And I can’t do this anymore. I can’t forgive you when I’m scared of what you’ll do to my feelings at the slightest hint of trouble or if you see Lan near me again. You know, when I was lying on the floor, feeling the nightmare restart all over again, my heart was heavy with the pain you inflicted. I can’t live in fear for the rest of my life, Jeremy. I just can’t.”
His face hardens with each of my words as if he can feel them instead of hearing them. “If you’re suggesting I let you go, I won’t.”
“You’ll have to, or I will hate you.” I pull my hands from his. “Smoke.”
His eyes taper and deep pain covers his features. “Cecily…”
“Goodbye, Jeremy.”
And then I slip back inside with fresh tears in my eyes and resolve tightening my heart.
I won’t allow anyone to hurt me again.
Not even the man I’m sure is the love of my life.