The mont he gets closer, I know.
Not because of his face. Not even because of the way he’s looking at .
It’s the feeling and that scent of his, it’s been printed into my brain since the incident happened.
The one that crawls up my spine and settles in my chest. The one that doesn’t care that years have passed or that I’ve told myself it was over and they won’t get again. The one that shows up in my dreams, leaves waking up breathless, skin damp, heart racing.
It’s him.
I feel it before I fully accept it, but once the thought forms, I can’t shake it.
My grip tightens on my glass so much that I’m scared it might break. I force my shoulders to stay loose,l don’t step back from him and I don’t react. I’ve learned how to do this. Learned how to look calm while my body is already preparing to run.
He stops right in front of
Up close, he looks older now, broader than before too.. His eyes move over in a way that makes my stomach turn and my skin crawl, like he’s already decided sothing and my opinion won’t matter.
"You seem interested" he asks.
No hello, no lead-in. Just that.
My mouth goes dry.
Before I can answer, Claire touches my arm. "I need to use the Bathroom," she says quickly, already backing away. "Be right back."
And then she’s gone leaving alone with this this vile creature.
I swallow and look back at him. "No, I’m not " I say. "I’m just looking around.
"That’s not what you’re doing," he says.
"I am," I reply, keeping my voice even. "I’m not interested."
I start to turn away.
His hand catches into my hair, grabbing it hard.
The pain is sharp and imdiate. My head jerks back before I can stop it, my heart slamming widely against my ribs.
"Don’t, I fucking said I’m not interested." I say, louder now.
He doesn’t listen.
He pulls toward him, his face too close, breath heavy with alcohol and his mouth on mine before I can react. I push hard at his chest, twist ing my head, trying to pull free, but his grip tightens instead. My dress rides up as his hand moves into and panic floods my system, fast and overwhelming.
Then everything changes, his weight on is lifted. There’s a blur of movent. A sudden release, then his grip disappears.
The man stumbles back with a sound halfway between surprise and pain, hitting the floor hard
I turn and Zane is standing there.
His face is nothing like I’ve ever seen it before. No control or restraint. Just pure adultered anger. His jaw is clenched so tightly it looks like it might crack
He grabs the man by the collar and yanks him up like he weighs nothing.
"You do not ever touch my wife," Zane says.
His fist connects with his face once. Then again and again and again.
The man tries to cover his face, tries to speak, it doesn’t matter. Zane doesn’t stop.
People are backing away now. Soone shouts and soone else calls for security.
I watch it happen like I’m outside my body, an outside body experience. E
Then sothing in snaps back into place when I realize if he doesn’t stop hitting him the man might die, not that I care about the man dying, it’s just him dying might bring police and investigations into this and that would disrupt every plan I’ve made so far to exact my revenge.
"Zane," I say moving close to him.
He doesn’t hear so I grab his arm.
"Zane," I say again, louder, fingers digging into his sleeve.
He swings once more, then freezes.
His chest is heaving. His hand is still raised to land another punch .
I step closer, forcing myself into his space. "Stop," I say. "Please."
For a second, I think he won’t
Then he drops the man and steps back, breathing hard, eyes still locked on him like he’s deciding whether to finish it anyway
Security rushes in. Soone pulls the man away. Soone else is talking too fast, asking questions I can’t focus on, they all stop when they see Zane though, for whatever reason that is I don’t catalog it now.
Zane turns to .
"Are you hurt" he asks, voice low, tight.
I shake my head even though my hands are still trembling.
He looks at my hair, my dress, my face, like he’s cataloguing every detail. His jaw tightens again, but this ti he doesn’t move.
He places himself slightly in front of without thinking, blocking the room.
"Let’s go," he says.
He doesn’t say a word before he moves.
One second I’m standing there trying to get my breathing under control, the next his arm is around my back and under my knees and I’m being lifted clean off the floor. I don’t protest. My body just gives in, heavy with the aftershock of everything that just happened.
"Thomas," Zane calls out when we get to the car.
The car door is already open.
The world blurs as I’m lowered into the back seat, leather cool against my skin. Zane gets in after , shutting the door with a hard thud. The engine roars to life imdiately, tires biting into the road as Thomas pulls away fast enough to press back into the seat.
The city lights streak past the window. My chest tightens. I try to swallow it down like I always do, but this ti it doesn’t stay put.
The tears co anyway.
Quiet at first. Just heat behind my eyes, pressure building until I can’t hold it back anymore. I turn toward the window, angling my body away from Zane, tucking my chin down so he won’t see my face fold in on itself.
I refuse to let him see like this.
The thoughts hit all at once. Not just tonight, everything else. things I don’t let myself think about unless I absolutely have to. My throat burns and my hands curl into fists in my laps
Then sothing brushes my fingers.
I look down.
Zane is holding out a black handkerchief.
I stare at it for a second before taking it. "You better not have blown your nose on this," I mutter, dabbing it under my eyes.
"I haven’t," he says.
"Good." I reply
" But I masturbated on it this morning."
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