Chapter 25
25
SHILOH
I stalk off into the tree line past the manor, desperate for just five minutes to catch my breath. The freezing night air whips at my bare skin, but I barely notice it through the storm of emotions raging inside me. Dom's confession replays in my mind over and over, a broken record of guilt and insanity that leaves me wanting to throw up.
Pacing back and forth between two towering oaks, I wrap my arms around my body as if I can physically stop myself from completely falling apart. I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do with all of this. I feel like I’m on one of those true crime documentaries–the na?ve little stepsister who ends up buried beneath the floorboards.
But no matter how furious I feel–how betrayed–I can’t reconcile Dom’s face with that of the psychopath who would do any of this. The vulnerability in his eyes as he laid his soul bare to me...It was so raw, so real.
I’ve seen that look before… It was there when we were wrapped up in each other’s bodies, and when he held me with more tenderness than anyone else ever has. Regardless of how much I hated him when he sauntered into town, I can’t deny he’s changed.
Or has he just manipulated me so well I have fucking Stockholm Syndrome?
A twig snaps behind me, and I stop my pacing, still hugging myself tight as I stare into the blackness of the woods in front of me. The sound of crunching leaves follows, steady footsteps approaching. I should have known that Dom wouldn’t leave me to stew too long, in case I talk myself out of ever forgiving him.
I don't turn around. I can't face him just yet. Instead, I take a deep breath and start talking, the words tumbling out before I can lock them away forever.
“I don't know how to deal with everything you told me yet, Dom.” My voice comes out rasping, my throat raw from all the sobbing, but I swallow hard and push on. “Honestly, I'm just so fucking mortified you read all those pathetic journal entries. All that teenage angst and whining and..and how I pined for you.”
The footsteps come to a stop just behind me. I can feel the warmth radiating from his body, hear his soft exhale of breath. Then, he strokes his knuckles down my bare arms, sending a shiver down my spine that has nothing to do with the cold.
My eyes flutter closed, and I can't help the sigh that escapes my lips. “This is so fucked up,” I whisper, leaning into him slightly. “But I can't lie about how I feel when you touch me. I've craved you for so long...longer than I want to admit, even to myself.”
Warm lips press into my shoulder, feather-light and achingly tender. I take another deep breath, barely believing I’m about to do this. But I don’t think I have a choice. I can’t find it in me to push him away again. I turn to face him, my heart pounding so hard I swear he must be able to hear it battering against my ribcage.
But the face that greets me is not Dom’s.
A skeletal mask leers down at me from beneath a black hood. I shriek, stumbling backward and shoving at the stranger with what little strength I have left. But they're faster, stronger. Before I can blink, they tackle me to the ground, leaves and twigs stabbing into the skin of my exposed back.
A blood-curdling scream tears from my throat and I thrash wildly as the monster paws at me. They claw at the bodice of my gown, trying to force it down and expose my breasts. Panic floods my system like shards of ice ripping me apart from the inside. I buck harder, desperate to throw them off.
“Help!” I cry, my broken voice seeming to just fade into the empty trees. “Somebody help me!”
The masked assailant gives up on my boned corset, failing to tear it from my flesh. But there is no relief, no protection as their hand plunges lower, scrabbling at my skirts and trying to force their way between my legs.
Every muscle in my body seizes to cold stone. It’s all I can do to keep breathing, knowing exactly what's about to happen. I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for the worst.
Suddenly, the weight on top of me vanishes in one fell swoop. My eyes fly open just in time to see a blur of motion as my attacker is ripped away. I scramble backward, the soles of my feet torn and bleeding while my kicked-off shoes lie several feet away.
Shuddering sobs wrack my entire body as the scene before me comes into focus.
Dom has my attacker pinned to the ground, raining blow after savage blow on their face. The skeleton mask shatters under his fists, revealing glimpses of bloody flesh beneath. As the pieces fall away, my stomach drops, recognition dawning like sharpened claws raked across my flesh.
“Dom, stop!” I yell, hoarse and breathless. But he doesn't seem to hear me. He just keeps punching, a low growl emanating from deep in his chest.
Though it’s now a mess of blood and already-swelling bruises, there's no mistaking the face of Jake Pearson, the mouthy jock from the sophomore class.
“Stop it! He’s a student,” I choke out. “You’re going to kill him!”
But Dom is lost in a haze of rage, his fists continuing their relentless assault. Jake's whimpers grow weaker, and real fear grips me. This isn't justice–it's vengeance. And if someone doesn't stop it soon, Dom could cross a line he can never come back from.
Just as I'm about to throw myself between them, a small crowd bursts through the trees. Greyson is at the front, his eyes wide as he searches through the gloom for the source of all the chaos. Without hesitation, he lunges forward and grabs Dom, yanking him off Jake's limp form.
Dom snarls again, struggling against Greyson's hold. But then his eyes lock onto mine, and the fight drains out of him instantly. He shoves away from Greyson and rushes to my side, falling to his knees beside me.
“Are you okay?" he demands, his hands hovering over me, searching for injuries and unsure where to land. “Did he hurt you? Shiloh, talk to me!”
I can't form words. The adrenaline is wearing off, leaving me shaky, nauseated, and freezing. Instead, I throw myself into Dom's arms, clinging to him as I shudder, fresh tears soaking into his jacket. He holds me tightly, murmuring soothing words into my hair.
From the corner of my blurred vision, I see a pair of men drag Jake's semi-conscious form away. The gathered crowd is buzzing with shocked whispers and half-formed questions. But all I can focus on is the solid warmth of Dom's chest against my cheek, the steady thrum of his heartbeat lulling me into an exhausted kind of numbness.
After what feels like hours but is probably only minutes, Dom gently helps me up from the dirt. My legs are unsteady, and I hiss when I put weight on my abused feet. Without a word he sweeps me up into his arms, glaring daggers at anyone who dares step too close.
“What the hell happened?” Greyson demands, his wide eyes darting between my trembling form and Dom’s murderous expression.
I take a shaky breath, trying to form a coherent string of words despite the cloying fog of shock invading my senses. “It was J-Jake. Jake Pearson,” I croak. “I think he’s the one who has been terrorizing people around the manor in that cloak. He’s shown up twice in the past couple of weeks while I’ve been here alone, and tonight he tried to… to…”
Dom's arms tighten around me as I fail to get the words out. His jaw is clenched as he adds, “He probably sent you those flowers too. It wasn't me.”
My head snaps up to look at him, the sickening revelation almost too much to bear. But before I can even fully absorb the implications, Ruby, Jemma, and Luke push their way to the front of the crowd, their faces contorted with worry.
“Oh my God, Shiloh!” Ruby cries, reaching for my hand. “Are you alright?”
I nod weakly, even though I'm anything but alright. “I'll be fine,” I insist, curling tighter into Dom’s chest. “Can you...can you just take me home, please?”
He doesn't hesitate, already striding away from the prying eyes and whispered speculations. “Yeah, let's get you out of here.”
“You’ll probably both be wanted for statements,” Greyson pipes up.
“Shut the fuck up before I pulverize your face too,” Dom snarls, pushing past him. The rest of the gathered onlookers part, cringing back as if Dom were carrying some infectious disease instead of a trembling assault victim.
The drive home passes too slowly, my blood feeling like thick tar as it pulses weakly through my body. Dom keeps one hand on my knee, a steady, grounding presence as I stare out the window, unseeing. When we finally pull up to my house, I fumble with the seatbelt, my fingers clumsy and uncooperative.
Dom comes around to my side of the car, wordlessly lifting me again before he makes his way to the front door. Inside, I stand in the middle of my living room, suddenly unsure what to do with myself. I'm still in my gown, the fabric now dirty and torn in places. My eyes well up again as I try to untangle the shredded ties.
“Here, let me help you with that,” Dom murmurs softly, moving behind me to start unlacing the ribbons that now feel like a cage. His touch is achingly gentle, as if he’s worried I might shatter into a million pieces right here on the rug. “You should probably take a shower, get cleaned up. It might help you feel better.”
I nod numbly, but as he finishes with the laces and steps away, panic seizes me all over again. I spin around, grabbing his wrist. “Will you…” I swallow hard, hating how small and scared my voice sounds. “Will you stay? Will you still be here when I get out?”
Dom's hard shoulders drop just a fraction, his relief palpable as he reaches up to cup my cheeks. “Of course,” he says without hesitation. “I'll stay as long as you want me here, Shy.”
I can’t think of what to say next, so I just collapse forward and thread my arms around his waist, holding on for dear life. Dom cradles my head against his chest, his heart beating an erratic rhythm against my ear. For a long moment, we just stand in silence, his other hand rubbing soothing circles over my grazed back.
Eventually, Dom speaks, his lips brushing against my forehead. “I love you, Shiloh. I'll do anything to earn back your trust. Anything .”
The whirlwind of emotions that sweeps through me would have me crumbling to my knees were it not for his strong arms holding me up. There’s a mixture of hope, doubt, longing, and fear, but beneath it all, there's a certainty I can't ignore. “I love you too,” I admit. “Lord knows I’m questioning my own sanity, but I do. I love you… And I want you to stay.”
Dom presses a tender kiss into my hair but doesn’t speak again. It takes me a minute or two to realize that he never heard any of those words I spoke into the trees when I thought he was behind me.
“I want to trust you again,” I mumble into his shirt. “But you can't lie to me again, Dom. And you can't leave me alone like you did the first time. I can't go through that again. You were gone for eleven years too fucking long.”
“"I'm not going anywhere,” he vows, his deep voice rumbling through me and somehow thawing my aching muscles. “No matter where we end up, I'll be by your side.”
I squeeze him tighter, feeling truly safe for the first time all night. Maybe for the first time in a long time. Before the exhaustion sets in deep enough that I won’t make it to the shower, I find myself exhaling a shuddering sigh. “Maybe it’s just me…but Avalon might not be the right place for either of us anymore.”
Dom's answering huff is equal parts bitter and grudgingly amused. “Maybe not. We can figure out a fresh start anywhere you want to go.”
We stay like that a little longer, holding each other close as the weight of the last month’s events and our naked confessions settles around us. Hardly anything feels resolved, and yet somehow, I can’t find it in me to worry about the rest of it.
Dom wants to stay with me. And maybe despite myself, I trust that he means it. Right now, there’s nothing else I need. There’s nothing else I’ve ever needed more than someone who just fucking stays. I drag him up the stairs with me, not wanting even a second apart.
It might seem like everything has changed in that regard…
But nothing really has.
Nothing ever does.