Chapter 15 #2
Rebecca stumbles back, eyes wide. “Jesus! What the hell’s wrong with that dog?”
“Argy, no!” I grab his collar just as his jaws snap in her direction. Huge, gnashing teeth catch the moonlight like razor-sharp silver knives.
Rebecca stumbles back, hands up, face pale with horror. “Get that psycho mutt away from me!” she cries. “He’s feral!”
“Just like my sister,” Amber says, shooting me a smug, satisfied smile as she loops an arm around Rebecca’s shoulders. “Come on, Becca. Let’s go.”
“Did you see that?” Rebecca hisses as they retreat toward the patio doors. “She tried to have that thing attack me.”
They disappear into the frat house, their laughter trailing behind them like poison. My hands tremble at my sides, fists clenched with the effort it takes not to scream.
What was I even thinking defending Rebecca? Believing, even for one stupid second, that she might actually want to be my friend?
God, how embarrassingly na?ve.
So she showed me a few moments of kindness in class. Big deal. That doesn’t make her different. She’s just as fake as the rest of them. Plastic smiles. Vicious tongues. They’re all the same.
I exhale slowly, the bitterness catching in my throat as I curl into Argy. I bury my face in his warm fur to hide the sting, but one tear escapes, carving a hot line down my cheek. I swipe it away quickly before anyone can see.
I know I shouldn’t care what Rebecca thinks. Or Amber. Or any of them. But the truth is, it’s not just about them. It’s everything.
No matter what I do, nothing ever seems to change. It’s like I’m forever stuck in place—unwanted, unchosen, invisible.
I never should’ve come here tonight.
“You look like you could use a drink.”
Dylan’s hand lands on my shoulder as he stands over me, clutching two beers in one hand and a lit joint in the other. He’s wearing a halo—unironically, I’m pretty sure—and his white Prada fleece is freckled with beer stains.
“Thanks,” I say, taking one of the beers. “Actually, I really could.”
I raise it in a mock toast, then down the entire thing fast enough to make his eyes widen. I burp softly, and he laughs.
“Nice. How about some shots?”
I consider it for a second. Hayes is nowhere to be found, and I’ve just been humiliated by my sister and her stupid friends—again. My night’s a complete disaster. So, yeah, shots sound like a solid plan.
“You’re on.”
Three shots and two beers later, I’ve got a warm, buzzing haze going.
Dylan and I are the only ones still lingering outside.
The rest of the party has migrated indoors to escape the cold.
Argyros is stretched out near the fire pit, eyes half-lidded, ears giving the occasional lazy flick.
Dylan hands me another shot, and the dog’s ears suddenly perk.
A beat later, he’s on his feet, trotting toward the patio doors.
“Argy!”
The dog doesn’t even glance back.
“Probably smells food,” Dylan says with a lazy grin.
I shrug, watching as Argy disappears inside, then I throw back the vodka. It goes down almost too easily, like water.
The stars begin to blur above me. Everything spins.
I chase another shot with beer and look at Dylan through double vision, thinking about how cute both of him are.
I don’t even mind that he’s a little puffy from alcohol, or the beer dribbling down his chin.
He’s still quite handsome. Nice, too. He’s laughed at everything I’ve said tonight like I’m genuinely funny.
Maybe I am.
I don’t plan to kiss him. It just happens.
Hayes is off somewhere ignoring me, probably with Amber, and something in me snaps. I deserve this. Someone who wants me. If nothing else, Hayes will hear about it. Maybe it’ll make him jealous.
Dylan and I end up horizontal in the grass, his tongue darting sloppily in and out of my mouth. His rough lips on mine aren’t exactly what dreams are made of, but it isn’t terrible, either.
I feel light.
Unburdened.
At least… I think I do.
Then he shifts, his body pressing into mine. Arms touching arms, legs tangling. I don’t feel any of the light-your-body-on-fire electricity I do whenever I’m with Hayes, but I’m not surprised. No other guy has ever made me feel that way. Maybe no guy ever will.
“Wanna go upstairs?” Dylan slurs against my mouth, his finger trailing across my neckline. “It’s more… private.”
I hesitate. The sky tilts, stars swirling again.
“Uh, no thanks.”
“Ohhh. I get it.” His grin shifts, something sleazy creeping in as his hand tugs at the hem of my dress. “You’re one of those girls who likes to do it out in the open. I can work with that.”
I swat his hand away.
“No. Stop.”
“What’s wrong? Aren’t you having fun?”
Before I can answer, his mouth crushes against mine again. Hard. I try to stay still, hoping he’ll stop. That he’ll get bored and pass out. That I can just wait it out.
But then his hands are everywhere. Rough, greedy. He reaches for the edge of my dress again, and I shove at his chest, nausea clawing at my throat.
“I said no!” I try to sit up. “I… I think I drank too much. I need to go home.”
He grabs my wrist, his nails digging into my skin. “Don’t be a tease, babe,” he says. “We’re just getting started.”
“No. I want to go,” I mumble, fumbling through the grass for my phone.
Shit.
Where the hell is my goddamn phone?
His lips are on my neck now, wet and urgent. “You’re so sexy. I just wanna—”
“Dylan, stop!”
I try to push him away again, but he yanks my arms behind me, pinning them down.
“Quit fighting me. Just relax,” he says. “You’ll like it.”
Pain flares in my wrists.
“Dylan—ow! You’re hurting me!”
“Shut up already,” he spits, pressing down harder. His mouth crashes into my neck, hot and suffocating, and terror blooms in my chest. I can’t move. I can’t get free. He’s got me trapped.
“GET OFF ME!”
And then suddenly, he’s gone—ripped away like a rag doll.
I whip around, breathless.
“Touch her again, and I swear it will be the last thing you ever fucking do.”
Hayes is there.
Fury is carved into every line of his face, his eyes swirling like a storm barely contained. Beautiful. Lethal. He looks like the devil himself, cloaked in shadows and rage. Argyros is at his side, snarling so viciously that foam strings from his teeth and spatters onto the grass.
Hayes wrenches Dylan’s arm behind his back and pins him to the ground with effortless, terrifying strength.
“What the hell, man?” Dylan thrashes around pathetically. “That hurts!”
“Good,” Hayes growls.
I stare at him, dazed. Where did he come from?
“Let go! What’s your fucking problem?” Dylan shouts.
“My problem?” Hayes leans in, voice dropping to something dark and deadly. “When a woman tells you to stop—you stop, asshole.”
“We were having fun,” Dylan sneers. “Believe me, she was asking for it—”
Argyros lunges with a savage bark, ready to tear him apart, but Hayes is just faster.
Impossibly fast.
His fist slams into Dylan’s jaw in one brutal blow that sends all one hundred seventy pounds of Dylan Masterson flying across the yard. He hits the side of the frat house hard enough that the windows rattle.
“You son of a bitch!” Dylan wheezes, clutching his elbow. “I think you broke my arm!”
His expression twists from shock to fury, but with Hayes’s glare locked on him and Argyros circling him like a shark, he doesn’t dare move. Hayes stands there, chest heaving, fists still clenched, like he’s one breath away from slugging Dylan again.
I scramble to my feet, swaying.
“Hay?” I ask. “What… what are you doing here?”
He turns to me as if suddenly remembering I’m there, and all that fury drains away instantly.
“Are you okay?” His voice softens into something raw and gentle.
“I—I’m…”
My chest tightens, the night collapsing in on itself, and I bolt from the backyard. I sprint inside, ducking into the first open bathroom I see, hands shaking as I slam the door behind me and twist the lock. Then I check it again, just to be sure.
I turn on the cold water and splash my face, catching my reflection in the mirror. Mascara streaks down my cheeks, and there’s a smear of dirt on my skin, like I crawled out of something primal.
The girl in the mirror doesn’t even look like me.
Oh God…
My stomach lurches and I sink to the floor.
What the hell just happened?
And Hayes.
How did he get to me so fast? We were all alone outside. I’m sure of it. And the way his punch sent Dylan flying into the wall? It wasn’t possible…
A flicker of memory hits me then without warning, like a freight train.
Suddenly, I’m twelve again, looking up at Hayes’s treehouse.
Then falling, pitching backward, knowing with absolute certainty that I’m about to die.
Hayes calling my name—and then… waking up in his arms. Safe. Whole. Like he’d always been there.
Except… that can’t be right.
Another fragment of buried memory surfaces, sharper this time, and I remember. Hayes was still at the top of the treehouse when I fell. There’s no way he could’ve gotten down fast enough to catch me—
“Al?” Hayes knocks softly on the bathroom door. “It’s me. Can I come in?”
All thoughts of the treehouse slip away instantly, dissolving like mist.
I don’t know if I can face Hayes right now.
My eyes dart around the bathroom, searching for an escape. There’s a narrow window behind the toilet, barely wide enough to squeeze through. Even if I could get it open, where would I go? I can’t drive. Not after everything I drank. And my phone is gone.
“Alligator?” he asks, his voice gentle. “Please let me in. I want to make sure you’re okay.”
I weigh my options.
I could keep ignoring him, but that only ends two ways. Either he eventually gives up and I spend the night sleeping on the sticky floor of a frat house bathroom, still in my costume… or, far more likely, Hayes breaks down the door in front of everyone, which might be even more humiliating.
“Okay,” I whisper. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”
I unlock the door. Argyros pushes in first, pressing his cold nose to my knee with a soft whimper. Hayes follows close behind, his presence steady and grounding, a quiet, comforting force.
He takes my hands in his, gently, and his mouth parts—first in shock, then in slow-burning fury—as he sees the red marks circling my wrists. His thumb brushes over the welts with a feather-light touch. Careful. Reverent.
“Does it hurt?”
“A little.”
His jaw flexes, rage coiling beneath the surface. “I’m going to kill that bastard.”
He rises, shoulders tensing, and turns for the door, ready to track Dylan down and finish what he started. He looks ready to unleash hell.
Maybe it should comfort me to see how much he truly does care about me, but right now, I’m just too shaken. My body aches. My eyes burn. All I want is to disappear into sleep and forget this night ever happened.
“Please, Hayes, I just want to go.”
He grabs a clean towel and runs it under cold water, pressing it gently to my wrists. His touch is soothing. Steady.
Slowly, he helps me to my feet, his hand never leaving the small of my back.
“I’ll take you home.”
“No, not home.”
I don’t want my mom to see me like this. Besides, she won’t understand. She’s the one who always told me to be careful, always be on guard. That monsters are everywhere and you can’t trust anyone, especially men.
“What do you need, Al? Tell me what to do.”
The anger still burns in his eyes, but underneath it, there’s something else, something unspoken and fiercely protective.
“How did you know I was in trouble?” I ask. “One second, it was just me and Dylan, all alone. And then… you…” My voice wavers. “And the way you hit him. My God, Hay, he flew through the air—”
“You’re drunk. You’re not remembering things correctly.”
Maybe.
Probably.
“Come on,” he says, opening the door and taking my hand. “Let’s get you back to my place.”
The walk to his apartment is a blur. I barely register the pavement beneath my feet or the sharp bite of October air on my skin. There’s only Hayes’s arm wrapped around my waist, his warmth tethering me to reality.
He doesn’t speak, just keeps me close, guiding me through the quiet streets. Argyros trots at our side, bristling whenever anyone passes too near.
When we finally reach the apartment, Hayes leads me straight to his room and lifts me like I weigh nothing, lowering me gently into bed. The mattress dips beneath me, soft and comforting.
“Sleep, Al. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he murmurs, pulling the blanket up around me with the kind of care reserved for something fragile. As if even the slightest draft might undo me.
Argyros hops onto the bed and curls tightly against my side, his warm body forming a small, protective wall between me and the rest of the world. His gaze locks on the door as if daring anyone to try getting past him.
As sleep creeps in, Hayes settles into the chair across from me. His arms fold across his chest, muscles still tense, his eyes never leaving mine. Steady. Watchful. Like guarding me isn’t just a choice.
It’s a promise.
I know I should feel safe with Hayes—and I do.
But the treehouse…
Something about the memory just won’t let go. Hayes wasn’t at the bottom when I started climbing, I’m sure of it.
So who the hell caught me?