Chapter 27 Cry Me A River
The bass thuds through the marble halls as I slip back inside, my fingers still cool from the autumn air. I haven’t been gone long, just long enough for my head to stop spinning from my encounter with Jace.
My eyes scan the room for Dakota, but I can’t see her in the sea of masks and glitter. I keep to the edges of the room and make my way to the punch table. I grab a cup and fill it, just to give myself something to hold.
“Wow.”
I turn and River is smiling whilst leaning on the table behind me. He looks handsome in all black.
“You clean up good.” His eyes drag up and down my body. There’s something that feels off with him.
“Thanks.” I smile tentatively and step closer to him.
“Dance with me.” He leans in, speaking low in my ear.
I smell it, the smell of alcohol. He’s different because he’s drinking. Before I can answer, he takes the punch cup from my hand and puts it down on the table, taking my hand to the dancefloor.
The music is loud and upbeat. A girl to my left tosses her head back, grinding against some guy in a devil mask. He grips her waist as they move.
River turns me and pulls me flush against him, his hands tight on my hips and he starts to move and grind against me. His movements match the beat, shameless, and uninvited. His breath ghosts over my neck.
Panic flares in my chest, my body locking up. It’s too much, too close, too familiar. I try to step away but his grip tightens further, almost bruising.
My eyes flash back to a different pair of hands, equally as rough, gripping my hips and grinding into my ass.
“You smell good.” River presses his erection into me.
“Don’t,” I gasp, barely audible. I try to jerk away from him.
He doesn’t hear me—or doesn’t want to.
“Hey,” I snap louder, twisting away hard enough to make him stumble. “Get the hell off me.”
“Relax, baby,” River slurs, his hands moving up and down my body, squeezing me in different places. “We’re dancing.” He grabs my ass hard.
“I said no,” I bite out, louder this time. My voice shakes, but it doesn’t break. “Back. Off.” I push his hands off me.
One second River’s in my space, the next, he’s not. Luca wedges himself between us with a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Yo, River,” he says, light and easy, but his body is steel. “Didn’t your mom ever teach you what no means?”
River blinks, frowning. “We were just dancing, dude. Fuck off.”
“Were you?” Luca tilts his head. “Because it looked like you were about half a second from catching a fist to the jaw.”
There’s something coiled behind Luca’s smile. Something dangerous.
“Fuck. Off.” River steps up to Luca.
“No.” Luca puffs his chest, staring down at River. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Why don’t you mind your own business?” River sneers.
“See, the thing is… this pretty girl is my business.”
That’s all it takes. River shoves Luca back, and Luca shifts, pushing me out of the way. When he turns back around, River swings. Sloppy but fast.
Luca ducks, quick and sharp and counters with a clean shot to River’s ribs. They crash into a table. Cups clatter to the floor, someone screams.
The music stutters, students shout and scramble out of the way.
River launches again, this time grabbing Luca’s collar, and they slam into the wall near the punch table.
Luca grunts but doesn’t back down. He twists free, drives his elbow into River’s side, and shoves him hard enough to stagger back into the crowd.
“Stop!” I yell, the sound tearing out of me before I even think about it.
But they don’t. They’re locked in it now—adrenaline, pride, maybe something uglier underneath. My stomach churns. The lights are too bright. The bass too loud. It feels like the whole room is spinning.
“Luca!” I say again, louder this time, panic rising in my throat. “Stop. Please.”
That gets through. His head snaps toward me. Just for a second.
It’s all River needs.
He catches Luca across the jaw with a lucky shot. Luca stumbles, blood blooming at the corner of his mouth.
I gasp, hands covering my mouth.
But Luca straightens—wipes the blood with the back of his hand—and looks at River with a dark, bloodthirsty, smile.
Then faculty storms in. Two teachers push between them, one shouting orders. The crowd parts with a collective breath.
River shouts something I don’t catch as they drag him back. Luca doesn’t answer. He just watches me.
My hands are still trembling.
The dean’s voice echoes over the sound system, demanding order.
I stand in the middle of the chaos, everyone staring, whispers swirling again like ash after an explosion.
This is my fault.
My mind is a messy jumble as I walk back to my room on autopilot. I slam the door shut behind me and press my back against it, heart still racing. The hallway feels like it’s following me, voices echoing in my head even though I know I’m alone now.
Stupid. That’s what it was. Stupid and loud and messy.
I should’ve stayed outside. I should’ve never come back in. I should’ve walked away when I smelled the alcohol on River. I should’ve stopped him, I shouldn’t have frozen. And Luca… he came to help me.
My breath hitches.
The room is too quiet. Too neat.
I don’t know whether to cry or scream. So, I do neither. I just sit on the edge of the bed and press the heels of my palms into my eyes.
There’s a hard knock at the door.
I don’t answer.
A beat. Then another knock. Firmer this time. “Isobel. Open up.”
I clench my jaw and yank the door open. Tex’s eyes scan me instantly, his expression thunderous.
“You okay?” his voice is rough.
I step back.
He stalks past and closes the door behind him. I press my back to it, exhaling like I can push the tension out. He doesn’t speak, just waits. Giving me the time to find the words.
“River was drunk.” I close my eyes. “I smelled the alcohol on his breath. Then his hands are all over me and he says something that reminded me…”
I can’t finish the sentence.
“You want me to beat the guy up again?” he asks casually, like he’s asking if I want coffee.
Despite myself, I let out a soft laugh.
“Pretty sure Luca already took care of that.”
“Yeah, well. I’ve got a stronger punch.”
I open my eyes and look at him. “Why are you here?”
He shrugs. “Figured you could use someone who wasn’t trying to fix anything. Just… be here. I wanted to make sure you were okay. You ran out of there pretty fast, which is impressive in those heels.”
I huff out another laugh and look at him. Really look.
And something in my chest eases.
“I hate that it got to me,” I admit. “I hate that he made me feel small.”
Tex nods. “Yeah. Been there.”
He doesn’t ask questions. Doesn’t offer platitudes. Just exists next to me like he’s holding space for whatever I need.
“I feel stupid,” I whisper.
“You’re not.”
“It was all my fault.”
“No.” Tex walks up and grips my chin in his big hand, lifting my face up to his, his blue eyes burning with fire. “This was not your fault.”
“But—”
“River was drunk, you said it yourself, he didn’t understand what the word ‘no’ means.” Tex’s voice is firm. “He should’ve never put his hands on you like that.”
I let his words sink in and sigh. He opens his arms, and I step into them. His arms are warm and secure. My head quiets.
“I’m so tired of this. Of fighting. Of trying to breathe when it feels like everyone’s trying to shove my head under water.”
He pulls back just enough to look at me, brushing a tear from my cheek with his thumb.
“The good things don’t come easy. You’re going to make it to the other side and you’re going to be stronger for it.”
The words undo me. I close my eyes, lean into his touch as he tucks my hair behind my ear and rests his forehead gently against mine. For that moment, it’s just us. The feel of his arms around me like armor.
His breath is warm against my cheek, and I don’t move. Not right away.
I don’t want to leave the safety of his arms, don’t want to pull away from the only place that feels steady in a world that keeps trying to knock me off balance.
Then I look up at him, eyes searching, and I kiss him.
Soft at first.
A question.
His hand clenches at my waist, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t respond. My heart is thundering now, the ache in my chest too big, too loud.
“I need this,” I whisper against his lips. “Please, Tex. I need you.”
His eyes close like he is at war with himself. “You’re upset.”
“I know.”
“You should rest.”
“I don’t want to,” I say, more desperate now. “Make it stop. Please.”
He looks at me like I’m breaking something in him just by asking. Then I kiss him again. Deeper, firmer, and this time he kisses me back.
And when he kisses me… it’s not careful.
It’s like he’s been holding back for days, weeks—months, even. His hand cups the side of my face, calloused fingers grounding me, thumb brushing under my jaw as his mouth claims mine.
I gasp into him, and he swallows the sound.
He walks me backward until the back of my knees hit the edge of the bed, and he pulls away just enough to look at me—his chest heaving, eyes dark.
“Tell me this is what you want,” his voice is hoarse.
“I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t. I want your hands on me, not his.”
Something in him disintegrates. His mouth crashes against mine again, hungry and rough. His hands move up into my hair, exposing my neck to him.
He kisses down the side of my throat and across my collarbone. His hand travels up my thigh, the slit giving him easy access. He grabs my ass tightly and pulls me against him.
“Tex,” I pant, “untie me.” I turn around, pressing my ass against him, feeling his hard cock press back into me.
His fingers brush over the fabric of the corset. I arch slightly as his fingers toy with the ribbons, tugging gently, undoing them one by one until the laces loosen and the bodice gapes open at the back.
His fingertips trace the spaces between each ribbon, slowly sliding down the length of my spine, featherlight.
I flinch.
It’s small. A flicker of panic in my breath, a tremble in my shoulders—but he notices. Tex stops.