2. Two
2
TWO
MILA
I had the strangest dream of the man at the bonfire carrying me through the cornfields and into his car. The smell of leather and the feel of a warm blanket comforted me as he drove, soft music playing in the background. When I awoke, I was back in my bedroom, and daylight streamed through a crack in my pink curtains. I sat up, instantly regretting my sudden movement as an unbearable throb assaulted my head, and my throat felt like a desert. Cautiously rolling to my side, I squeezed my eyes shut and let sordid memories flash through my thoughts.
Glaring images of Zach, the goon who gave me a drink, loomed over me in the cornfield, forcing my thighs open, digging his fingers into my sensitive flesh, and shoving his fingers inside me. My muscles clenched protectively as I examined my body for tenderness—tenderness that would indicate rape.
My muscles were sore, but I felt otherwise intact.
I sat up slowly and grabbed my phone, checking to see if Lacey had messaged me, and she did around 2 a.m. this morning.
It was now 10 a.m.
Went home with Chad. I hope you and Muscles had a good time. Better spill all the deets when I get home. Love you.
I had gone in search of her in the cornfields last night because Zach had told me that she and Chad had gone in. But I never found them.
Things were really blurry, but pieces of last night began to fall together, and the icy kiss of fear rushed through my veins.
I futilely attempted to fight Zach off.
Me being pinned down, both body and mind.
My heart stopped, watching a figure lunge toward him and the sharp glint of a blade flashing in my eyes. His lifeless eyes stared into mine as his throat was sliced open, sending a fountain of blood shooting into the air.
Strong arms carried me through the cornfield and drove me home.
I sat in my bedroom trying to comprehend the enormity of what had happened.
But no, I had to be hallucinating.
I was pretty sure Zach had drugged me, lacing my drink with something so strong that I almost blacked out, unable to control my own body.
Had I imagined it all?
Rushing to the bathroom, I scanned my appearance in the mirror. There was a tiny cut on my lip, barely noticeable, which instantly reminded me of Zach’s assault.
No blood.
No dirt.
There was no indication of the gory scene I remembered. I had no idea what memories were mine or if the vivid hallucinations were caused by the drugs he put in my drink.
Am I going crazy?
I glanced down. I was wearing a pink nightgown, and my hair was damp, although I couldn’t remember showering when I got home. I searched through the dirty clothes bin for the black dress I had been wearing, but it was nowhere to be found .
The boots Lacey had let me wear were gone too.
What the hell was going on? What had happened last night?
Before I could find the answer, my phone buzzed loudly and sent my heart racing again.
“Hello?” I answered tentatively.
“Hey, Mila, this is Michael from work. Are you planning on coming in today? Your shift started at ten.”
“Shit, yes. I’m on my way. I am so sorry,” I apologized, frantically throwing on my uniform and barely taking the time to comb my hair before jerking open the door and running down the street toward The Coffee Bean—a coffee shop on campus. I didn’t have to work, but I chose to. I liked the environment, and it gave me something to do in my free time. When I finally arrived, out of breath and disheveled, I saw that the shop was teeming with customers waiting impatiently in line.
Michael handed me my apron without a word, and I quickly put it on while apologizing profusely for being late. “I am so sorry I’m late. I had a really weird night.”
“It’s fine. Just clock in and get to work.”
I smiled appreciatively and clocked in. Since it was Saturday, it stayed busy most of the day. Lacey had been blowing up my phone all day, asking if I had given my V-card to Muscles. I tried ignoring her, but after my phone went off about fifty times, I finally pulled it out and texted her.
I’m fine. The V-card is still intact. I’ll talk to you when I get home.
Boo. I’ll be waiting. Do you want Chinese?
Yes. Don’t forget the crab rangoon!
I won’t. Love you.
Love you back .
I was wiping down the machines when I heard the bell, signaling that someone had entered. “I’ll be with you in just a moment,” I announced, not yet turning around.
A distinctive smell of tobacco, sandalwood, and spice filled my senses. Steeling myself, I turned around slowly to see two piercing green eyes staring me down with an intensity that shook my entire being. My stomach twisted as memories of him getting a blowjob in the middle of the cornfield hit me. And then, snippets of him as he tenderly carried me out of the cornfield, wrapped me in my blankets and brushed a gentle kiss on my cheek. I couldn't distinguish between what was real and what was a product of my intoxicated mind.
My breathing hitched, and I ran my eyes up his tall frame. His black shirt clung tightly to his fit body, and tattoos covered his hands, wrapping around his muscular arms. Snaking up his neck was a tattoo of a hand gripping his throat—the sight caused my mouth to go completely dry. He had a gold nose ring and a silver cross necklace that fell to his chest.
Mortified that I had been ogling for so long, I cleared my throat and stepped toward the register.
“What can I get you?”
“What would you recommend?” His voice was deep and dark as it flowed through me, weakening my knees.
“Um… do you like coffee or tea?” I asked, trying to keep my composure.
“Both." He grinned, sending waves of warmth throughout my body. "What’s your favorite?” His words hung heavy in the air between us as he waited for my answer.
“My…favorite?” I stammered, meeting his gaze with heat rising to my cheeks.
“Yes,” he crooned, his voice lower than before. My heart hammered against my chest like a caged beast, desperate to escape its confines. His presence was overwhelming, a darkness that seeped into my pores and made me crave him like an addict craves their next fix. His scent was intoxicating, and just being inches from him had my thighs clenching involuntarily in response. His eyes never left mine, and the intensity of his stare burned into me like a branding iron. Every nerve in my body was on edge, as though a live wire had been twisted around them.
“My favorite is probably vanilla chai tea,” I managed to stutter out, my voice barely above a whisper.
“That’s what I want," he replied calmly.
“Iced or hot?”
“Surprise me.” Those beautiful green eyes stalked my every movement.
“Okay. Hot it is.” I rang in his order, feeling like every motion was too clumsy and uncoordinated—a clear indication that I was, in fact, not composed. “That will be $5.45.”
He handed me a fifty-dollar bill, and I started making change for him. “Keep the change,” he instructed in a low voice that sent goosebumps scattering across my skin.
“No. I couldn’t,” I protested weakly.
“You will.” There was no room for argument in his tone.
“Thank you,” I responded. “Can I get a name for your order?”
He gave me a devilish smirk and put his wallet back in his pocket. “How about you bring it to my table, and I’ll tell you my name.” He didn’t wait for a response before turning toward the back of the coffee shop and sliding into an isolated booth.
I stood rooted in my spot, utterly perplexed by what was happening. I felt every fiber of my being pulling me toward the darkness he exuded, begging me to succumb to something dangerous.
Forbidden.
I made his chai and headed toward the table where he was sitting, scrolling on his phone. He looked up as I approached and slid his phone into his pocket.
“Hot vanilla chai for the stranger who won’t give me his name.” I handed it to him, and he let our fingers brush against each other ever so briefly before taking the drink from me. The warmth that filled my stomach was oddly familiar, but foreboding. I tried to ignore the heat pooling between my legs as if it were a matter of life and death. The nameless stranger took his time sipping his chai while scrolling on his phone before he finally looked up at me again.
“Can I get you anything else?” I asked him, standing awkwardly at his table, trying not to squirm under his gaze.
For a long, uncomfortable moment, he said nothing, then reached out and trailed one finger over the back of my hand in a feather-light touch. “Why don’t you sit with me?”
“I’m sorry, I’m on the clock. I can’t.” I nervously shuffled my feet, frozen in place.
He paused and looked at the watch on his wrist. “Actually, you’re off. It’s 6:08.”
“Wait, what?” My mouth hung open in surprise. “How do you know what time I’m off?”
"I know a lot of things about you, little rabbit."
My stomach dropped at his statement. My palms began to sweat, and I gulped loudly. My head started to spin as I tried to form one coherent thought to respond to him.
But all I could do was stare into his eyes like he was a goddamn vampire glamouring me to stand completely entranced in his presence.
When I finally spoke, my voice sounded foreign to me. "Who are you?"
He rose from his seat, looming over me like a dark cloud. The heat radiated, and the air between us seemed to crackle with electricity. The sweat forming against my skin, dripping down the small of my back, felt as if it was burning, as if his very presence was setting me alight. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, and all I could feel was the paralyzing arousal that ran through my veins.
"Archer."
"Archer? Wh-what do you want from me?"
He leaned in closer and chuckled softly, the sound deep and melodic. "Thanks for the tea." His lips curled into a smile, revealing a set of perfect, pearly white teeth as he brushed past me and headed out the door.
I furrowed my eyebrows, watching him leave, as a twisted mix of confusion and desire tightened in my gut. His proximity to me caused an electric pull that made my skin buzz with anticipation. But there was something else I needed from him, something deeper…darker. My heart thundered in my chest as I clocked out and followed him into the evening air. The campus was alive with murmurs and shadows, but all I could focus on was his towering silhouette moving away from me. I pushed through the throngs of people with rabid determination until he turned a corner to the right. I quickened my pace, crossing the street without a thought for traffic, my eyes fixed on his tall figure rounding the corner up ahead. He was still just within sight, almost teasing me with how close he was, yet how far away he felt. A group of students rounded the corner he’d just passed, blocking my view, and by the time I turned the corner, he was gone.
It was like I had been chasing a ghost. I clicked my tongue, huffing in annoyance, and turned to head back toward my home. I was consumed by an almost desperate search, a need to fill this void inside me, and I didn't hardly understand the reason for the feelings that were coursing inside me.
My steps were hurried and determined as I moved toward the townhouse I shared with Lacey. The wind had picked up slightly, and I shivered as I chastised myself for not grabbing a jacket before I rushed out of my front door this morning. The crowds began to thin as other students laughed and headed on their own way to enjoy their evening with friends. I was deep in thought when cold droplets of rain started pounding against my skin—icy droplets that sent a chill to my bones. I had to get out of the rainstorm quickly, so I took a shortcut through the alley across from the apartments. Despite the cold, fear started coursing through my veins when I heard the sound of a glass bottle breaking behind me. Without thinking twice, I spun around and slammed into an immovable force, sending me stumbling backward into the brick wall behind me.
My eyes widened in both shock and surprise when I saw him—Archer—closing the distance between us. His face was still and focused, and a flood of emotions ran through me. He pressed his body against mine, and I was frozen in place. The rational part of my brain told me to run, but the irrational part wouldn’t let me. Fear and excitement intertwined like lovers performing a passionate dance in my veins. I stared at his lips, dangerously close to mine, his body pressing against me with unyielding force.
He was close enough for me to count the raindrops sliding down his perfect face. He leaned in closer, his breath hot on my neck as he whispered, "Didn't your daddy ever tell you not to walk in a dark alley alone?"
My teeth chattered, and my body trembled in anticipation.
"Are you afraid of me, little rabbit?"
I nodded my head slowly, not trusting my voice. As he trailed his hand down my spine, I shuddered involuntarily, pushing my pelvis into his, my body betraying me. He chuckled darkly, his lips grazing my ear. "You're trembling with fear, aren't you?"
I couldn't deny it as much as I wanted to.
"Yes," I whispered, barely audible.
My heart raced like a wild stallion, confused about how this man could stir me up in ways I had never experienced before, setting fire to my blood.
"Do you want me to let you go?"
I turned my head slightly and nodded again, biting my lip, trying to control my shaking. His gaze dropped to my mouth, tracking my lips hungrily, and his hand pressed against the small of my back. Before I could register what was happening, he pulled me toward him with a shift of his hips and buried his face in my neck. I felt myself go weightless as we both fell against the wall behind us. His nose and lips trailed up my neck and across my jaw, searching, daring.
He pulled away only to whisper in my ear, "I think I'll let you go…for now."
With that, he released me and walked off in the opposite direction of my apartment, leaving me breathless and weak in the knees. I slumped against the brick behind me.
Finally, after what seemed like a ridiculous amount of time, I forced my heavy legs to move and carry me inside the safety of my front yard. I felt like I was moving through a haze. My body was numb with a strange mixture of terror and desire. When I finally reached my front door, I slid my key into the lock and headed inside, the smell of Chinese food assaulting my nostrils.
"Holy shit, Mila! Are you okay?" Lacey was sitting with her legs crossed on our couch, a face mask on, and her hair in a towel.
"Yeah...just a little rain outside." I tried to shake away Archer's touch on my skin as I spoke. "How was your day?"
She rolled her eyes and sighed, "It was alright. Nursing a hell of a hangover, though. And Chad is being all clingy, all because I stayed over last night. This is why I have a ‘no sleepover’ rule." She threw her hands up in frustration and started unwrapping the paper on her chopsticks.
I headed upstairs, Lacey close on my heels, shuffled into my room, and began stripping off my wet clothes. "I'm going to take a shower," I muttered and headed toward the bathroom.
"Oh no, you don't!" Lacey followed me into the bathroom. "What happened with Muscles last night?"
"Nothing." I turned on the shower and pulled my hair tie out, releasing my ponytail as steam filled the bathroom around us.
"Nothing? That's it?" she stammered, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall, demanding answers.
"We had a drink together, and then I went to look for you, but you left me." I shrugged out of my robe and stepped into the water, letting the warm spray envelop my body. "Dick move, by the way."
"Well, how'd you get home then?" she yelled over the sound of the water.
"I caught a ride with some people I recognized from class," I lied, closing my eyes so I didn't have to face her inquisitive and, most likely, unbelieving stare.
I was a horrible liar, but nonetheless, Lacey was my best friend, and we just didn't lie to each other. The one thing we made a priority in our friendship was transparency. My stomach was in knots from making the decision to be dishonest to her. There was this nervous coiling in my stomach that was twisting around my insides because I could still see Zach's crimson blood pouring out of his slit neck and feel its warmth as it covered my cold skin.
But how could I tell Lacey that I thought I’d witnessed a murder when so far, there was no body, and no one had reported him missing? Most importantly, why did it feel more wrong for me to lie to Lacey than it did to witness what could possibly be a murder? I swallowed the darkness that crawled up my throat and washed myself, trying to soothe the internal storm that threatened to consume me.
I had more questions than answers, and at that point, the only person that could give me those answers was Archer.