Chapter 1 #2
My chest squeezed. The ghosts were awake and hungry, whispering Blake’s voice in my ears. Weak, easy, breakable. “Maybe because every time you open your mouth, you turn everything into a fight.”
He gritted his teeth, jaw tight, and for a second, I saw the monster his father made. Then it flickered, replaced by something bleak. “You say that, but you love it. You love the attention. Even if it’s just to feel alive.”
He wasn’t wrong. I hated that he wasn’t wrong.
I tried to shove past him. He caught my wrist, not hard, just enough to remind me the past wasn’t gone, only sleeping.
I wrenched free, voice trembling. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”
He laughed. “That’s the thing. I know too much. I know exactly how you are. Complicated to the core.”
I couldn’t help myself. I spit the words like venom. “Look at you. Living in my friend’s basement. Maybe try fixing your own life before judging mine.”
That one landed. His face went flat, eyes cold as steel. “You think I don’t know I’m fucked up? You think I don’t hate it every fucking minute?”
“No,” I said. “I think you like it. I think you get off on being the broken one, always using it as an excuse to hurt other people.”
For a second, I thought he’d hit the wall. Smash something, scream. But he only stepped closer.
“You really think that’s what I want?” He whispered.
I glared, heart drumming in my throat, too loud. “I think you want control. I think you want to own all my scars. Even the ones you didn’t put there.”
“You can’t breathe when I’m around, huh?”
I swallowed. “No. I can’t.”
He licked his lips. Smile twisted. “Maybe you don’t want to.”
He was right on top of me, now, shadows caving in around the edges of my vision. Part of me wanted to slap him. Part of me wanted to drag him back to the basement and let him tear me open all over again.
My body hated me. My brain hated me more.
I shoved him, just enough to clear a few inches. “This is why I can’t stand you. Nothing’s ever simple. Nothing’s ever easy.”
He made a noise, almost a laugh, but not quite. “You wouldn’t know what to do with easy if it bit you in the ass.”
I wanted to scream at him. Instead, I just went limp. “Just leave me alone, Caiden. For once.”
He backed up, but only barely. His body filled the room. “You want that?”
I didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. The tension was crackling, crawling all over my skin.
That’s how Alex found us, standing three feet apart like two boxers waiting for the bell.
“Hey,” Alex said, voice light, pretending not to notice the sparks. “You guys lose the snacks, or just the memo?”
I forced a smile, fingers trembling around the glass of water I pretended to pour. “Just needed a break from your winning streak.”
Alex grinned, but his eyes went from me to Caiden and back again. “Ready for round two?”
I nodded, desperate to get away. Caiden lingered, glare fixed on Alex’s hand as he slid it around my waist.
The three of us returned to the living room. Sabrina had set up a board game. She smiled, but her eyes clocked me instantly, reading every micro-flinch.
Alex pulled me onto the couch, close enough that his breath caught in my hair. I should have felt safe. Should have wanted to wrap myself in his stability, let his confidence nurse me back to sanity.
But I couldn’t. Not when Caiden sat in the chair across from me, arms crossed, eyes burning a hole straight through my skull. He acted bored, but every cell of him was jacked with tension, vibrating with unfinished business.
I tried to ignore it. Tried to focus on the game, the cards, Alex’s touch. But my mind kept glitching, short-circuiting between past and present:
The cage. The glass. The way my body remembered every second of Blake’s hands, every word twisting slowly inside my brain.
The way Caiden’s voice would break sometimes, in the dark, telling me I wasn’t allowed to die. That he’d hurt anyone who tried to take me from him, even if he had to break me himself.
The way I hated myself for needing that kind of protection.
Alex nudged me, whispered a joke. I almost laughed, but my mouth was too dry. My eyes flicked straight to Caiden, who didn’t look away.
Sabrina poured drinks. Shane started the game, pretending nothing was wrong. Maybe he believed it. Maybe he just wanted to.
At one point, Caiden’s stare got so heavy I almost screamed. I snapped a card onto the table, too loud.
Alex chuckled. “Competitive, huh?”
I smiled. “Yeah. Something like that.”
He leaned in, hand on my thigh, inching higher. “I thought you liked me being hands-on.”
I forced another laugh, but all I felt was nausea, heat, guilt. Behind Alex, Caiden’s hands were balled into fists. The tension in the room could have choked us all.
I could feel myself unspooling, the storm in my head getting louder.
Blake’s phantom voice, slithery and cruel: You think you’re worth saving? You think anyone here loves you for real?
Then Caiden’s, rough and broken: You’re not getting rid of me. I’m the last thing left.
Then Alex, desperate for something normal: “You okay?”
God, I wanted to scream.
But all I did was nod. Let him hold me close, let him stake his claim, even as every cell in me begged for something harder, meaner, more real.
At the end of the night, the scores didn’t matter. No one was really winning. No one ever did.
I stared at the table and let myself crumble, piece by piece.
Even when Alex’s arm held me close, I could still feel Caiden. I could still taste the ruin.
Nothing else compared.
Nothing ever would.
Eventually, Sabrina packed up the kitchen, and Shane tried to herd everyone toward the door in that gentle, hinting way. Social skills I’d never mastered.
The board game sat abandoned on the coffee table, pieces scattered like loose teeth. Alex slouched with one arm flung around my shoulders, warm and secure, the way a normal boyfriend would.
I didn’t remember saying yes to being his girlfriend. Maybe I never had.
He brushed hair from my cheek. “You want me to walk you out?”
I shrugged. “If you want.”
He grinned, always eager to please. “I’ll text when I’m home.”
Sabrina shot me a look as I passed. Something complicated, worry tangled up in hope. I nodded, promised I’d be fine.
The porch was colder than I expected, air damp, wood hunched under the weight of too much rain. Alex cupped my jaw, gentle, like he was afraid I’d snap. Maybe I would.
“Tonight was good,” he said. “You did good.”
Compliments like that should have felt sweet. They just bruised.
I smiled anyway. “Thanks.”
He swooped in and kissed my cheek. Soft, lingering. A normal girl would have blushed, maybe leaned in, maybe felt something light up inside her chest.
I felt nothing. Or maybe not nothing, but the wrong kind of ache.
He squeezed my arm. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
I nodded, watched him jog to his car, backlit by the glow of Sabrina’s porch lamp. He waved as he pulled onto the street, taillights melting into the night.
The silence that followed swallowed everything else.
I wrapped my arms around myself, shivered, and tried to remember how to just be alone. Then, there were footsteps behind me.
His footsteps were softer than you’d expect. The night seemed to hush for him, waiting.
He didn’t say my name at first. Just hung in the doorway, breathing hard, watching the road where Alex’s car disappeared.
“He’s not good enough for you.”
I didn’t turn. “You don’t get a vote.”
He came up behind me, heat rolling off his body. “Don’t insult either of us by lying.”
I stiffened, felt the hair stand up on my arms. “What do you want, Caiden?”
He stepped around, coming to stand in front of me.
He didn’t look away. “You think you’re safe with him? That he’s—what? Better for you? Less likely to fuck things up?”
Fuck. The words twisted.
I hugged myself tighter. “I think he wants me for the right reasons.”
His laugh was quick, cruel. “That’s not love. That’s pity. Or some fantasy. It’s got nothing to do with you.”
I glared at him, every bone shivering. “And you know what does?”
He leaned in, not touching, but so close I could feel the war raging under his skin. “You want someone who sees you for who you really are. Even the bad shit. Especially that.”
The world vibrated. I was hollowed out.
“And you think you do?”
He nodded. No hesitation. “I know I do.” His jaw clenched, voice breaking and trembling in the dark. “Amelia. If I could cut it out of me, I would. You know that.”
A thousand memories detonated inside my skull: his body pressed to mine, basement floor cold and wet, his arms caging me from the world, his voice in my ear telling me we were the same kind of ruined.
I hated him for being right.
I hated myself for wanting him more when he said it.
I couldn’t look at him. I stared at the ground, at the stains on the wood, and tried to get air back into my lungs.
“You’ll ruin me,” I whispered. Honest, for once.
He shook his head, something wild in his eyes. “Already did.”
For a second, I thought he’d reach for me. For a second, I wanted him to. Maybe if he grabbed me, I’d just surrender, let myself drown in the need. Let him break me open and see what’s left.
But he only stared. The silence stretched, so full it hurt.
“Don’t pretend you’re not the same,” he said. “Don’t act like any of this is enough for you. He’s not enough. He never will be.”
I bit back the answer that rose like bile. “Go to hell, Caiden.”
Already there flickered in his eyes.
He stepped back, the night swallowing him up, the porch suddenly huge and empty.
My insides went cold. The ache he left behind was bigger than any bruise.
I sagged against the railing, stared at the stars blurred by tears I refused to shed.
Maybe he was right. Maybe all I’d ever want was the darkness. Maybe I’d never be safe, not even from myself.
I hugged my arms tight, listening for his footsteps, hoping he’d turn back, say something—anything—to make it hurt less.
But he was gone.
Only the hunger stayed behind.
Only the ruin.
Sleep eluded me that night.