chapter twelve
kira
I haven’t been face-to-face with him in almost four years, but he looks exactly the same. Like a nightmare dragging itself into the daylight.
His tall, thin frame leans over the table toward me, close enough that I catch the sharp scent of cologne and something bitter underneath—alcohol, maybe. His dark eyes, nearly black, bore into me, and my stomach twists violently.
I can ’ t breathe.
The air feels thick, pressing against my lungs, but I force myself to sit up straight. Do not cower. Do not let him see.
“ You two looked cozy.” His voice is the same, too—oily, smug, curling around me like a chokehold.
He ’ s here. He ’ s right here.
“ Leave me alone, Zach,” I manage, but my voice is tight, barely containing the tremor threatening to break free.
His smirk widens. “ So you ’ re fucking Jared ’ s dad now? How am I not surprised? A slut like you wants all she can get, right?”
My skin turns to ice. I can ’ t move. I can ’ t blink. The bar around us fades into nothing—just muffled voices, blurred shapes, a faraway hum. Not real, not real, not real.
“ What do you want?” I whisper. Hadn ’ t he taken enough already?
My heartbeat slams against my ribs, fast and uneven. Where is Noah?
Zach leans in closer, his breath warm against my face, and I flinch. “ From you? Nothing right now.” His teeth flash in a grin, predatory and cruel. “ But I know where to find you when I want a whore.”
His words hit like a slap, like hands pinning me down, like darkness swallowing me whole.
He straightens, turns, and walks out as if he didn ’ t just rip me open all over again.
The bile rises so fast I barely swallow it down. The bar is too bright, too loud, spinning around me as my breath shatters into pieces. I grip the edge of the table, my nails digging into the wood, trying to ground myself, but it ’ s useless. I can ’ t be here. I can ’ t be anywhere he might find me.
Someone sits down across from me, and I jerk back so hard the chair wobbles. He came back—
“ Kira. ”
Noah ’ s voice cuts through the static, low and steady. I blink, vision tunneling until it lands on his face—concerned, steady, real.
“ Are you okay?”
I look up at him, and he instantly recognizes something is off. I’m shaking, and I can’t catch my breath. I’ve had anxiety attacks before, but this one takes the cake.
“Let’s go,” he says, moving toward me to help me stand.
His arm wraps around me, supporting me. Guiding me back to the truck, he opens the door, helping me climb in. I’m lightheaded, and I still can’t breathe. As he shuts his door, I finally let myself cry.
“Hey, what happened?” he asks.
“Listen, I need you to breathe with me, okay?”
I try to stop hyperventilating, holding my breath.
“Look at me,” he demands.
I listen, my eyes meeting his hazel ones. Concern fills them as he reaches for my shoulders, holding me in place.
“ In. Out. In. Hold it. Out . There you go. You’re okay, I promise. I’m here.”
My breathing has slowed now, my heart following suit.
“Can you please just take me home?” I beg.
“Of course,” he says, resting his hand on my leg for reassurance, but I don’t know if it’s me or him that he’s reassuring. I put mine over his, squeezing it. His grip is tight on my thigh. As we drive, he glances over at me every once in a while, probably afraid I’m going to break down, but I don’t. I push it down like I always do.
Noah pulls into the driveway and immediately rounds the truck, opening my door and helping me down. He guides me into the house, but I keep walking through the slider and onto the back patio. I need air.
I’m so tired of being scared all the time, and now it’s worse. There’s a reason to be afraid when I go out. He could be anywhere.
The slider glides open as I sit down on the swing, and Noah steps out onto the porch. He sits in the chair across from me, and his eyes meet mine.
“ Kira, I ’m going to need you to talk to me.”
No.
There’s no way I can tell him what is going on. He won’t believe me. Or even worse, he’ll agree with the cops and say it was my fault. I can’t handle that right now.
“I promise I’m here for you. I hate seeing you like this and not being able to help. What happened?”
He’s been there for me through my nightmares. He kept me from crumbling tonight. He deserves to know. I take a deep breath and pray that he listens.
Crickets chirp outside as I get ready in my room. It’s a warm summer night, and anticipation is thick in the air. Jake’s parents are out of town this weekend, and he’s having a party tonight to celebrate the end of the school year. I can’t wait. He even said he invited some upperclassmen.
Mom isn’t home. She’s working late tonight, like every other night, so she probably won’t even realize I’m gone. I grab my phone and house key right as I hear a car pull into the driveway.
I peek out the blinds to make sure that it’s my ride, and I see the beat-up red charger idling loudly. It’s them. I head out the door and run up to the car, sliding into the front seat. I glance in the back seat, seeing Jared on his phone.
“Took you long enough,” Zach complains.
“I’m sorry.”
“Whatever,” he says, pulling out of the driveway.
We ’re swerving down the road, going way too fast, and I grip the seat, my knuckles turning white. I don’t like riding with Zach, but none of our other friends can drive yet. Zach is eighteen, so he has had his license for a while now.
When we get to the party, there’s already a lot of people. Jared disappears almost instantly, leaving me alone. I hear someone call my name, and I glance up. Zach is walking toward me, holding a plastic cup in his hand. Reaching his hand out, he offers it to me. I’m no stranger to alcohol, having broken into my mom’s stash more times than I can count.
“Come on, you’ll like it. Don’t be boring.”
I take the cup from him, downing it to prove a point. It burns as the liquid glides down my throat. I hand the cup back to him and wander back into the living room, looking for Jared. He’s still nowhere to be found, so I take my usual place on the couch, quietly observing the party. I’m watching two guys shotgun when Zach sits down beside me, handing me another drink. I take it, choosing to sip on it this time.
It goes on like that for a while. Zach brings me drink after drink. I’ve honestly lost count of how many I’ve had. I’m definitely drunk, and I should probably stop, but I’m having fun.
The rest of the party blurs together. By two a.m., most people are either gone or passed out. From the living room, I see Jared in the kitchen with Jake, passing a joint between them. I try to stand and make my way over to them, but I stumble, and a hand grabs my wrist.
“Where are you going?” Zach asks, a crooked smile on his face.
I try to explain, but he ignores me, talking over me, “No, you’ve been teasing me all night. Time to put out,” he says, throwing me over his shoulder.
What? What is he doing? I don’t like this. “Zach, no, please put me down.”
“Not tonight. I’m getting what I want tonight.”
“No, please, let go of me!” I slur out, but the music is too loud. No one is going to hear. The alcohol is still running through my system, making it hard to do anything.
I hear a door open.
He carries me inside, dropping me onto a mattress.
The door closes.
And locks.
No, no, no.
“Please stop, Zach,”
He ignores me as he hovers over me, a sick grin on his lips. I want to throw up. I squeeze my eyes shut as he unbuttons my shorts and yanks them down my legs. A tear falls down my cheek.
I am all alone.
There’s no one to stop him.
With each touch from him, I lose more pieces of myself until I’m a shell of the girl who stepped into this house.
It feels like forever, the violation, the pain.
When he finally finishes, he shoves off me.
“ Fucking slut, ” he says as he heads for the door.
He leaves me there.
Trembling, I move to find my clothes. I need to get dressed so I can leave. I need to get out of here. I try to hold back my sobs as I pull my clothes on.
I open the door a crack, looking into the living room. Jared is out there with Jake and Zach. They’re all laughing at some joke Jake told. My stomach twists. I can’t go out there. I need to go home.
My mind is still slow from the drinks earlier, and my hand shakes as I reach for the handle to the back door. The temperature has dropped, and I’m still only in shorts and a tank top. Shivering, I start the long walk home. It’s probably only a few miles, but it takes me over an hour. Mom’s car is in the driveway when I get there.
“Where have you been?”
Words refuse to come as a sob racks my chest. She looks up at me, the faintest hint of concern in her eyes.
“What did you do?”
I tell her what happened, needing her to be a normal mother, just this once. She sits for a moment, sighing.
“Well, look what you’re wearing. I mean, what did you expect?”
The cops end up sharing the same sentiment.
Noah looks up at me, his expression unreadable at first—then shifting, darkening, a storm brewing behind his eyes.
This is it.
My chest tightens. My fingers curl into fists on my lap, nails digging into my palms. I already know what ’ s coming. The judgment. The words I ’ ve heard before, spoken in different voices but always meaning the same thing— You did this to yourself. You were reckless. You should have known better.
I brace for it, for the disappointment, for the blame that will turn my shame into something unbearable. I deserve it, don ’ t I?
But it doesn ’ t come.
Noah shifts closer, lowering himself beside me, and when he speaks, his voice is nothing like I expected. No accusation. No anger. Just quiet certainty.
“Kira, what happened to you was not your fault.”
The air leaves my lungs in a sharp exhale. Not my fault.
I don ’ t move at first. I can ’ t. The words don ’ t make sense. Not my fault. I stare at him, searching his face for doubt, for hesitation, for anything that will prove he ’ s just saying what he thinks I need to hear.
But there ’ s nothing. Just unwavering belief.
He believes me.
The realization slams into me so hard my whole body trembles with it. A single tear slips down my cheek, followed by another. I don ’ t wipe them away.
Noah watches me carefully, his voice softer now. “ Tell me what happened tonight. What triggered that?”
For a second, I think about not telling him. I hate admitting that Zach still has that much effect on me.
“He was there. When you walked away, he came up to me,” my voice is still shaky as I speak.
His jaw tightens as he takes in a breath. He’s upset. I shouldn’t have told him. He doesn’t need this extra stress.
“If he ever comes near you again, I’ll personally end him,” he promises.
His thumb comes up, wiping away what’s left of my tears. The weight that has been crushing me for years feels lighter.
He actually believes me.
We ’re inches apart now, his hand still cupping my cheek. My eyes dart to his mouth, and I pull my bottom lip between my teeth. I would give anything to feel those lips on me. He catches the shift in my gaze, tightening his grip on my jaw. My heart pounds in my chest for a completely different reason this time.
“ Kira, ” Noah warns.
Before he can say anything else, I press my lips into his, my hand sliding up his chest. A groan escapes him as he kisses me back, pulling my lip between his teeth.
“We can’t do this,” he says, breaking the kiss. “This is not what you need right now.”
But I do need this. I need to know what it feels like to not be scared—to be with someone I know won’t hurt me. He eyes me, his gaze heated but his restraint visible.
“Please,” I whisper.
He lets out a ragged breath as his fingers trace up my neck, gripping my chin.
“Are you sure about this, princess?” he asks.
I nod, and his eyes darken. He grips the hair at the back of my head, angling my face up to his. His lips brush over mine, and I can’t wait any longer. I need more.
“I need you,” I breathe out.
The last cord of his control snaps as his lips devour mine, hungry and ravaging. He kisses me with such force that a whimper escapes my lips, fueling his fire.
He pulls me up onto him, and I straddle his lap, his hands sliding up my waist. I can feel him—already hard against me. Reaching up, I lace my fingers in his hair, tugging. He groans, smirking into our kiss.
He wants this just as much as I do.