Chapter 10
TEN
SAVANNAH
I let myself into the house quietly, like the night might still be listening.
The door barely clicks shut before I hear it. Nails on hardwood. A low thump. Then two shapes come barreling down the hall like I’ve been gone for years instead of hours.
“Hey,” I whisper, dropping my keys just in time to catch Menace as he launches himself at my legs. Psycho skids in right behind him, tail wagging so hard his whole body wiggles. They crowd me, noses everywhere, whining and snuffling like they need to make sure I’m real.
“I know,” I murmur, crouching down, burying my hands in their fur. “I missed you too.”
I kick my shoes off, step out of my clothes piece by piece, leaving them in a trail that leads to the bathroom. I turn the shower on as hot as it will go and step under the spray, finally letting myself feel what happened tonight.
The water pounds against my shoulders and I tilt my head forward, letting the water run through my hair, over my face, down my spine like it’s washing the bar off me. I stand there until my fingers wrinkle and my breathing evens out.
When I climb out, I dry off slowly, then pull on a big T-shirt.
One I’ve had forever and smells like home.
I crawl into bed, my sheets cool against my skin.
Menace jumps up first, circles once, then plops down hard against my side.
Psycho follows, wedging himself against my legs.
I stare up at the ceiling for a minute, listening to the quiet.
No music. No bass. No voices telling me who I am or what I’m worth.
I turn onto my side, tuck my hands under my cheek, and let my eyes close.
Sleep doesn’t come gently. It drags me under. I’m back in that house I swore I’d never think about again. The walls feel closer than they should. The air is thick, heavy, like it’s pressing against my chest. He’s there before I even see him. I hear him first. “Look at you.”
His voice is angry, familiar in the worst way. I turn and he’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes cold and disgusted. “You really thought anyone else would want you?” he says, gesturing at my body like I’m something broken. “You just keep getting bigger, don’t you? Louder. Needier.”
I try to speak. My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.
He laughs. That same cruel laugh that always made my stomach drop. “God, you’re so dramatic, Sav. Crying over nothing. Acting like a victim when you do this shit to yourself.”
I shake my head, backing up, my heels catching on the carpet. “Stop,” I say, but it comes out small and weak.
He steps closer. “No,” he snaps. “You don’t get to tell me to stop. You should be grateful I touch you at all.”
My chest tightens. My heart is pounding so hard it hurts.
“You think you’re confident now?” he sneers. “Dancing around. Showing off. Pretending you’re happy. You’re still the same girl. Still pathetic. Still too much.”
I back away from him and hit the wall with nowhere else to go.
He looms over me, face twisted with anger, and suddenly his hand is on my arm. Gripping it so hard it burns.
I gasp. “Brian, stop. You’re hurting me.”
“Good,” he says. “Maybe you’ll remember what you are.”
His grip tightens and the room tilts, spins, and I feel myself folding inward, small and trapped and worthless all over again. Just like before.
I jolt awake with a sharp breath, my heart racing, sweat cooling on my skin. The room is dark, but I know instantly I’m safe in my bedroom. Menace lifts his head, lets out a low, concerned huff, and presses closer to my side. Psycho whines softly, scooting up until his warm weight pins my legs.
I curl into myself, clutching the fabric of my T-shirt, trying to convince my body I’m safe.
That he isn’t here. That he can’t touch me.
That his voice doesn’t get to own me anymore.
Tears slip out anyway. I breathe through it.
One breath, then another. “I’m safe,” I whisper into the dark, even if I don’t fully believe it yet.
Eventually, slowly, my heartbeat finds its way back down and I fall back to sleep.
The dream shifts before I can run. Brian’s still yelling, still towering over me, but now there’s something in his hand.
“No,” I say immediately. My voice cracking, knowing what’s about to happen.
He smiles. “See?” he says calmly, like this is just another lesson. “This is what happens when you don’t listen.”
My arms come up to shield myself. My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might tear itself loose.
My eyes drop to his hand and I see it. The blade. Caught in the light, angled just right, familiar in the worst way. My stomach drops because I know it. I know exactly what kind of pain it brings. I’ve known it longer than I ever wanted to.
“This is your fault,” he says. “You made me do this.”
“No,” I gasp. My whole body is shaking now.
Tears spill over before I can stop them.
“Please, Brian,” I sob. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.
I promise. Please don’t do this.” Then my legs give out and I slide down the wall, my back scraping against it as I collapse, arms coming up instinctively, uselessly, trying to protect what I can even though I already know it won’t matter.
I fold in on myself, shaking so hard my teeth chatter, small and terrified and bracing for what I know is coming.
He snarls and lashes out at me. Slicing against my arms. Blood dripping down covering my skin. I know better than to fight him. I’ve learned that lesson the hard way. Fighting only makes it worse. Louder. More punishing.
So I curl inward, folding myself into a tight ball on the floor, trying to disappear into my own body, trying to make myself small enough that he’ll stop sooner.
I scream anyway. The sound tears out of me when the pain hits again, sharp and breath-stealing.
I try to pull away, but his grip locks me in place, unmovable.
I feel it once more. Then again. Each time steals something vital.
Air. Strength. The sense that I’m still a person and not just something being hurt.
I shrink further into myself, shaking, breaking down piece by piece, until all that’s left is fear and the instinct to survive.
I wake up choking on a scream. My whole body jerking violently, pain echoing where there is none, my arms pulled tight to my chest like I can still feel him there.
My heart is racing so hard it hurts. I can’t breathe.
I can’t tell where the dream ended. I curl into myself, arms tucked tight, rocking slightly.
“It’s not real,” I whisper. “It’s not real. I’m safe.”
There’s a crash in the living room.
Metal clatters. Something thumps hard against the wall. Then boots. Heavy. Fast. Coming closer.
I jolt upright in bed, heart slamming against my ribs, breath coming too quick. For a split second I don’t know where I am. Don’t know if I’m still dreaming. My hands come up automatically, useless shields as I stare at the bedroom door.
Footsteps stop right outside.
A shadow fills the doorway.
Big. Broad. Looming.
He’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling like he ran all the way here. His shoulders are tense, his jaw set, eyes sharp with anger that hasn’t figured out where to land yet.
“Firecracker,” he says, rough and urgent. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head, throat tight, the room still tilting. My voice barely makes it past my lips. “Lucky?”
He steps inside immediately, crossing the room in three long strides, all the way to the side of the bed. The anger drains out of his face the second he really looks at me.
“Yeah, baby,” he says, softer now, steadier. “It’s me.”
He crouches beside the bed, bringing himself down to my level, like he knows towering over me would be the wrong move. “What happened?” he asks. “I heard you screaming.”
My chest stutters on the inhale. The nightmare still clings to me, sticky and real, my skin buzzing like it remembers things it shouldn’t.
“I…I thought…” I swallow hard. “I didn’t know if I was awake.”
Lucky’s hand hovers near me, not touching yet, giving me space even though it’s killing him not to close it. “You are,” he says quietly. “You’re here. You’re safe. Talk to me.”