Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
LILY
I can’t stop shaking. The cold feels like razorblades against my skin but underneath it I’m burning.
I need to go back inside. I can’t stay out here.
But I can still feel him. His hands, his mouth, the bruising pressure of his fingers inside me, the way he tore me apart with nothing but touch and words that cut deeper than any blade.
Get it together.
How do you get it together when all the walls you’ve built crumble in minutes? When your body remembers things your mind tries desperately to forget?
I take a step away from the wall and almost fall, my legs too unsteady to hold me.
My thighs ache, a deep weakness that has nothing to do with the cold.
There’s a tremor to my hands as I smooth the front of my dress, fingers fumbling over twisted fabric that’s ridden up, exposing more skin than I’m happy with.
My underwear is uncomfortable, damp and twisted, a constant reminder of what just happened.
Of what I let happen.
What did just happen?
I lift my fingers to my throat, touching the tender spots where his mouth was.
The skin throbs under my touch, hypersensitive.
I can feel each mark taking shape—his teeth, his lips, his claim.
My shoulder aches where he bit down. When I press against it, pain flares and something sick and twisted in me wants to press harder just to feel it again.
The alley smells like garbage and rain and him. That last part won’t leave. It clings to my skin, the smell of his cologne, his sweat, and something indefinably male that makes my stomach twist with want even now, after everything he said.
I press my fingers to my lips, trying to steady my breathing, but all it does is bring the memory back. His mouth on mine, the bruising force of his kiss, the way he took without any hesitation or fear. My lips are swollen and tender. I can taste blood where his teeth caught me.
That’s what sticks in my mind the most. His confidence in what he was doing.
The Ronan I knew wouldn’t have been like that.
The boy from my past, the one who flinched away from touch, who held himself still until he was sure I wanted him, who kissed me like he was terrified I might change my mind?
He’s gone. That Ronan wouldn’t have pinned me against a wall, fingers inside me, body pressed against mine, and made me fall apart.
That Ronan wrote poetry in stolen notebooks, and traced words into my skin. This one marks and claims, takes what he wants without asking … and god help me, I let him. I wanted him to do it.
I suck in an uneven breath. My entire body feels wrong, sensitive and shaky, still caught between shame and desire.
This version of him, this man, is different. He’s more dangerous, confident and controlled.
The thought should horrify me, make me want to run, yet all I can think about is how good it felt to be claimed by him. How right it felt to have his hands on me again, even when he was using them to hurt me.
A car passes by, its headlights lighting up the alley, and it dawns on me that I’m just standing here, staring at the wall where he had me pinned … where I came apart for him.
I have to move. I can’t stay out here. If I do, I’ll drown in … in whatever this is.
My first step is cautious, but when my legs don’t buckle, I keep moving forward.
Each step reminds me of what just happened—the ache between my thighs, the soreness, the phantom feel of his fingers still inside me.
I’m sure my hair is a mess. I try to smooth it with shaking hands, but I can feel how tangled it is, knotted from his fingers.
My lipstick is gone or smeared. I don’t have a mirror, but I can imagine what I must look like.
Thoroughly fucked.
In all senses of the word.
The door to the bar appears ahead of me.
It swings open before I can push it, and a group of people spill out in a cloud of warmth and noise.
Cassidy is still inside. So are Amy and Kate.
I don’t really want any of them to see me like this, but disappearing now will just make things worse, and leave more questions and gossip opportunities.
Cassidy will follow me home. Amy will sniff out weakness like blood in the water.
So, I take a deep breath and step inside.
The heat of the bar hits me like a physical thing, too hot after the cold outside, too bright after the darkness of the alley.
The music vibrates through my body, the bass thrumming in my chest where my heart is still racing.
Conversations blend into white noise that makes my head spin.
I force myself to walk toward the booth, head held high, steps steady. No one watching will ever guess that my legs feel like they might give out at any second. People turn to look as I pass, and paranoia claws at me.
Do they know? Can they tell? Can they see what happened written all over me?
Don’t fall apart.
Cassidy spots me just before I reach them, her eyes narrowing as I slide onto the bench seat. I can feel her gaze as it sweeps over me.
She knows.
“What the hell happened to you?”
“Nothing.” My voice comes out flat. I pick up my drink, hand shaking so badly liquid sloshes over the rim. I set it down again before she can comment, but it’s too late.
“Bullshit.” She leans closer, voice dropping. “Try again.”
“I—”
“Ohhh, this is interesting.” Amy’s voice cuts me off before I can even attempt a lie.
She leans forward, eyes bright with malicious curiosity, and I watch her take inventory.
The flush that won’t fade from my skin. My messed up hair.
The way I can’t quite meet anyone’s eyes.
She smirks at me. “You look like you’ve had a fun time. ”
Kate giggles, twirling her straw through melted ice. “They were out there for quite a while.” Her eyes drop to my neck. “Looks like he found a way to keep himself … occupied, after all.”
Amy leans across the table. “Tell me, Lily … was he worth it?”
Cassidy turns to stone beside me. “Don’t.” Her voice is low, vibrating with restrained violence.
Amy ignores her. “No, really. You should tell us. I mean …” She makes a show of trailing her gaze over me, taking in every detail. “You look like someone who’s just been thoroughly fucked against a wall.”
Heat rushes to my face, shame and anger burning through me. My nails dig into my palms hard enough to hurt. “Go to hell.”
Her smirk widens. “I would, but I think Ronan already took you there.” She tilts her head, studying me like I’m both fascinating and pathetic. “Tell me, does he still fuck the same way you remember? Or has prison changed that too?”
Cassidy moves before I can stop her, launching out of her seat so fast that Amy has no time to react before Cassidy’s palm cracks across her face. The sound cuts through the noise of the bar like a gunshot.
A hush falls over the nearby tables. Conversations die. Heads turn. Amy rears back, eyes wide with shock, hand flying to her reddened cheek.
“Shut your fucking mouth.” Cassidy’s voice is deadly soft. “Or I’ll shut it for you.”
For a second, Amy just stares, disbelief warring with fury on her face. Then the rage wins. She lunges forward, but I’m on my feet now, slamming my empty glass onto the table so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter.
“Don’t say another word, Amy.” My voice is steady, even though my body is shaking with rage, adrenaline, and the unbearable guilt of what I just let happen outside.
It doesn’t matter that she’s right. I did let him fuck me against a wall, even if it was just with his fingers. “Not one more fucking word.”
Kate pulls Amy back before she can push it further, but Amy stares at me with narrowed eyes, calculation replacing fury. “I wonder what the parents of all those little kids would think about their teacher getting a knee-trembler from an ex-con in an alley on a Friday night.”
The threat is clear. My stomach drops.
Cassidy wraps her hand around my arm, grip tight enough to bruise. “We’re leaving.”
I don’t argue, and let Cassidy drag me outside, past staring faces and whispered conversations that will be all over town by morning.
The moment the cold air hits my skin, I suck in a breath.
But the phantom touch of his hands is still on me.
The memory of his mouth, his voice, and his control is still there, burned into my skin.
And the worst part? He wasn’t being reckless. He wasn’t angry or lost. He was in full control. He knew exactly what he was doing to me.
That’s what upsets me most. He broke me apart on purpose, then walked away.
Cassidy calls a cab, and doesn’t speak until it pulls up.
“Lily.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
She sighs, opening the car door. “Fine. Then just answer me one question.”
I take a deep breath and nod.
“Do you need me to do anything?” Her voice is quieter now, stripped of the rage. “Because if you do—”
“No. I just … I need to not be here.”
She nods, and climbs into the back of the cab. I follow, dropping onto the seat and pressing my fingers hard against my thighs, trying to block out the memory of his hands. My reflection in the car window catches my attention. I look exactly like what Amy said.
But it’s not just his touch that lingers, it’s the look in his eyes when he pulled away from me.
That flash of vulnerability before he buried it under cruelty.
The way his hands shook before he stopped them …
before he spoke those words designed to destroy anything that might have been left between us.
You’re just like them.
Yet even those words didn’t stop me from wanting him to stay. I wanted to pull him back, wrap my arms around him and break through those walls he’s built. I wanted to find the boy who used to whisper poetry against my skin, and looked at me like I was the only good thing in his life.
Because, after everything, if he touched me again, I don’t think I’d tell him to stop.
And I don’t know what that says about me. What it means that I’d let him ruin me over and over if it means having him back for a few minutes.
I let my head fall back against the seat, staring at the car’s roof while the driver takes us through the dark streets.
He wasn’t supposed to touch me again. I wasn’t supposed to want it.
But he did.
And I do.