Chapter 30 #2
Out the window, I spot Macee already sprawled on a pool chair, sunglasses on, legs out, waiting for me like always. The sight steadies me, a tiny burst of courage lighting in my chest.
I tug on a simple black swimsuit, the one I’ll feel safest in, grab a towel, and head downstairs. Every step aches, but I don’t slow down. Not for pain. Not for fear.
I pass through the living room, and the whole group falls silent. Riot’s band, Ash, Jace, Silas, Micah, along with Riot and Jasper, each one tries not to stare, but their eyes linger on the evidence. The bruises. The cuts. The marks that spell out everything I survived.
Silas’s jaw goes hard. He looks like he wants to tear something apart.
Ash and Jace both wince, trying to school their expressions but failing to do so.
Jace’s hand twitches toward his neck, sympathy flickering in his gaze.
Micah meets my eyes, steady, and gives a quiet nod that somehow means more than all the words in the world.
I cross the room, not hiding, not hurrying, and make my way to Jasper first. He stands, pulling me into a quick embrace, his lips gentle on my temple. “You sure you’re okay?” he murmurs, worry painting every line of his face.
I nod. “I’m sure. Just stay close?”
He squeezes my hand. “Always.”
Riot’s next. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, voice rough with everything he can’t say in front of the crowd. “Go have fun, Hellcat. We’ll be watching. Nobody touches you but us.”
My lips tremble with a smile. I lean in for one last kiss, his thumb tracing the edge of a bruise on my jaw with something like reverence.
I square my shoulders and head for the door, knowing Macee’s waiting. I can survive anything, as long as I don’t have to do it alone.
When I step outside the sun is bright, the heat warming my skin, and the air smells like chlorine and sunscreen. Macee looks up, grinning, and waves me over.
Girl time. Safe time.
The pool glitters under the morning sun, but I’m not feeling it yet.
Not really. I’m wrapped in my towel, tucked into a lounge chair beside Macee.
The water laps quietly in the background, a steady, soothing sound.
Macee’s already got her sunglasses on, one foot swinging off the edge, her energy radiating.
“We don’t have to talk about anything heavy if you don’t want to.” She glances over and watches me pick at a loose thread on my towel, then throws her head back dramatically. “God, this is tragic. Two beautiful women sitting five feet from the water, and not a drop of tequila in sight.”
I snort, rolling my eyes. “It’s like ten in the morning.”
“Hey, it’s noon somewhere, and trauma has no time zone,” she shoots back, grinning. She nudges my shoulder, waiting. When I don’t bite, her face softens.
A long, easy silence falls. I know she’s watching me—not my bruises, not the way my hands shake when I adjust the towel around my shoulders. She’s watching me—her best friend.
Finally, she breaks the silence with a sigh, dropping the act. “Alright, out with it. You’re in your head, Sawyer. Don’t even try to play. You know you can tell me anything.”
I look at her, really look, and for the first time since last night, I don’t feel afraid to talk. There’s no judgment in her eyes, just patience and the familiar, grounding weight of her friendship… And I should’ve known that.
She doesn’t flinch at the wounds, the bandages, the faded blood on my thigh.
She looks past it all, searching for the girl underneath.
The same one who would play in the treehouse in her backyard, who graduated with her, and shot weddings with her.
The same one who likes coffee, tacos, cats, and photography.
The same one who sat up late reading dark romance under the covers, laughing while making her read all the smutty scenes.
We sit there in silence for a long moment; the sun glinting off the pool, my heart pounding out a broken rhythm. I twist the edge of my towel until it nearly snaps. Macee watches me—quiet, steady, not pushing anymore, but not letting me escape either.
I take a shaky breath. “Okay, lets talk about it—all of it. I haven’t said it out loud to anyone but Jasper and Riot. But you’re my best friend. I want to talk about it with you too.”
Macee doesn’t flinch. She leans in, letting her hand rest gently over mine. “You know you can tell me anything, right? No matter how messy. No matter how dark.”
I nod, even as my voice wavers. “When Blake… when he took me—” My throat threatens to close, but I force the words out. “I was terrified, Mace. I thought I was going to die. But that’s not even the worst part… Not to me, anyway.”
She stays silent, just holding my hand, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
“He did things to me and my body…” I swallow hard, pain slicing through me. “My body reacted even when I was scared. Even when I hated it, it responded, like I wanted it when I didn’t. And I can’t stop thinking about how that makes me feel. Like maybe there’s something wrong with me.”
Macee squeezes my hand tighter, shaking her head, but I keep going, because I have to.
“And the books—the ones I made you read? All that dark romance, the stuff with chains and knives and power games—I used to wonder if there was something wrong with me for loving it. I thought it was just fantasy, you know? But now I keep wondering if maybe I’m broken, or maybe I made myself this way, and that’s why I couldn’t stop my body. ”
The tears spill over, hot and silent. I swipe them away with the back of my hand, half ashamed, half desperate for relief.
“I’m not saying I wanted him. I swear to God, I never did. But my body—Mace, it betrayed me. And I can’t let myself off the hook. Not really.”
Macee’s eyes go fierce, her jaw set. “Sawyer.” She shakes her head, grabbing my face in her hands, making sure I’m looking right at her.
“You are not broken. You are not sick. You are not responsible for what your body did. Trauma does fucked-up things to us. The way your body responded? It’s not consent.
It’s biology. It doesn’t mean you wanted any of it.
And as for those books? Half the world reads them, and the other half is lying about it. ”
I let out a watery laugh, breath hitching.
She pulls me into a fierce hug, wrapping her arms around me so tight I can barely breathe—but for once, that feels like a good thing.
“I love you,” she says into my hair. “All of you. The part that survived, the part that’s still healing, the part that likes filthy books and dark fantasies. You are my best friend, and I will fight anyone who says otherwise—including you.”
I cling to her, letting myself cry for a moment longer, letting her strength hold me up. For the first time, I feel a little lighter. A little more seen.
When I finally pull back, Macee grins through her tears. “If you’re done traumatizing my towel, we should probably go swim before you try to talk me into a book club with actual knives.”
I laugh, the sound shaky but real. “Deal. But only if you promise never to stop loving me.”
She winks. “Bitch, you’re stuck with me for life.”
We slide into the pool, the water cool and sharp against my skin, and it almost feels like everything could be normal again. Macee grabs a pool noodle and props her chin on it, watching me with those sharp, mischievous eyes.
I float next to her for a minute in silence, the ache in my muscles slowly fading as I let myself relax. But my brain won’t let me settle—not entirely. I keep thinking about everything I missed, all the time that passed while I was gone.
“So,” I say breaking the surface tension of the moment. “Did anything… happen? With you and the guys? While I was… You know, missing?”
Macee raises her eyebrows, surprised. “Me and the—? Girl, what? Are you asking if I had some emotional support orgy while you were out living your nightmare?”
I laugh, but it comes out more nervous than I mean. “I mean, I just—I was gone for a while. Everything feels different now. I just wanted to know if anything changed. You and Ash, or Jace, or Silas?”
Macee floats closer, bumping my arm with hers. “Sawyer. First, you’re the only drama this house can handle right now. Second—Ash tried to flirt, Jace tried to get me drunk and teach me how to play poker, and Silas, well, Silas glared at everyone and made sure nobody lost their shit.”
I let out a shaky breath. “So, nothing happened?”
She grins, wicked. “Nothing you’d be jealous of.
Trust me, they were all a mess. Jasper and Riot were barely speaking to each other, Ash and Jace couldn’t go five minutes without fighting about who made the better playlist, and Silas—honestly, I think he was this close to locking them all in the basement. ”
I snort, swiping water from my eyes. “Okay, but what about last night? After we got back? I feel like I missed half of everything again.”
Macee rolls her eyes dramatically, her voice pitched low and gossipy. “Oh, you mean after Riot went full caveman and carried you up the stairs like a rockstar Tarzan?”
I blush, but she’s already moving on, arms draped over the pool edge, kicking her legs lazily.
“Yeah, so I followed you two up to check in on you, but got sidetracked by the world’s most useless delivery driver.
Seriously, if attitude were a crime, that man would do life.
He was thirty minutes late and gave me the wrong order, so I had to argue with him for ten minutes while clutching a chicken sandwich I didn’t even ask for. ”
I laugh, biting my lip. “Sounds about right.”
She shrugs, hair slipping out of her bun, grinning.
“Anyway, after I finally got the food inside, I ran into Silas in the hallway. He and the guys were doing this whole secret-agent rotation thing—one of them would sneak off to the basement every half hour to make sure Blake was still knocked out and not plotting a prison break.”