I do know that. And his words make my heart swell in my chest just as much as they make me compare them to Fletcher’s, and the want they rung out of me. But as I look at him, there’s something inside of me that craves the simplicity we could have. He’s not only caring and attentive to me in a way thatwouldn’tmake people run, but he’s also around my own age—someone appropriate. I lean forward slightly, the determination I had to end things with him fading like the wind despite Fletcher’s voice lingering in the back of my mind, a reminder of all the reasons I shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be feeling this way. But Callum’s warmth, the way he looks at me, makes it hard to care.
I stand up, his shoulders tensing, a flash of fear that I might be leaving across his face, but quickly alleviating into something calm as I sit down next to him. Our eyes exchange glances to each other's lips before I lean in and kiss him. Because I want this. I want him.No, you don’t,my mind echoes back at me, but I try to ignore it because I have to. I can’t prove anything that Fletcher said right. He knows me, and he knows me well, but he doesn’t know me in a way I don’t know myself no matter how much he says he does. The kiss changes, Callum deepening it despite the audience of the diner, his hand sliding to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. I can feel the heat of his body, the way his lips press againstmine, and for a moment I’m convinced that I can be happy with this.
That is, until I spot a figure in the corner booth of the diner across from us. He’s half hidden beyond the pillar that partially obscures his view, but I know it’s him. His eyes are cold, calculating, and I can see the tick in his jaw as he seeks to restrain himself in public. Unbeknownst to either of us, he’s been here the whole time. I should’ve known better. I should’ve known he would figure out where I was going. I pull away, breathless. The adrenaline coursing through me from the kiss, or from the eye contact I had made with Fletcher, I don’t know. My skin prickles as I look back to Callum, to his easy smile, before my gaze seeks where Fletcher was sitting, only to discover he’s no longer there. And I know now that I am so fucked, possibly damning Callum with me.
“I have to go,” I say suddenly, and a look of confusion passes over his face. I know he’s thinking, or was thinking that everything was fine, so I try to figure out an excuse to ease his nerves. “I forgot I made a promise to my best friend back home that I’d make time to talk to her on the phone this afternoon.” It’s weak, and I know it probably sounds anything but casual, so I add, “She’s pregnant and her fiancé is on deployment right now. It’s been rough on her.”
Callum’s brow furrows and I think for a moment that he doesn’t believe me, not that he should but his concern eases into something relaxed, understanding. “Of course. I’m just glad that we’re okay. Thank you for making time for me.” He leans back, his smile slightly dimmed but not entirely gone.
“I feel horrible.” And it’s true, but not for the reasons he’s thinking. “I’ll text you when I get home?”
He nods. “Please do, I’ll take care of the check here.” It wasn’t as though we had ordered anything except a couple of drinks, otherwise I’d feel even worse. As I step out into the dimming daylight, my phone buzzes, and this time I know who it is without looking. I’m not even surprised he figured out my phone number. I open the text message as I walk across the parking lot to my car, but before I have achance to unlock the door, someone approaches from behind me, a hand clamping down on my shoulder. My body freezes—surely he wouldn’t do this out in the open like this?
“Leaving so soon?” The voice is low, familiar… menacing. I turn slowly, heart pounding, to find Fletcher standing there, a small and knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His eyes are still etched in darkness like they were when I glanced at him from across the diner. He’s too casual about the way he leans in, the low tone of his voice almost worse than if he yelled at me. He doesn’t need to raise his voice to remind me who has the power. He must not have thought I’d leave so soon. “I thought we agreed you would stop seeing him,” he says softly, as though this is a casual conversation. But the grip on my shoulder tightens and I attempt to pull away—his message is clear. “Or maybe you need me to be more clear? Let me spell it out for you. If I see him around you again, if I evenhearhis name in connection with yours, you’ll find out how permanent my solutions can be.”
“I—” My voice cracks before I take a deep breath, trying to rally some of the control he’s taken from me. “Just leave him out of this! This is between you and me.”
I stop breathing as his lips turn into a cold and humorless smile. “Everything about you is my business, you should’ve learned that by now. Imagine the guilt you’ll have to carry around knowing that he’s gone and you could have prevented it. You’ve been pushing my limits, little viper, limits that tend to exist for a reason. If you step over them again, you’ll find out exactly how far I’m willing to go. Be lucky this was a mistake I was willing to let you make twice. Do you understand?”
Any control I thought I was holding onto evaporates into thin air as he releases my shoulder, grasping a piece of my hair and rubbing it between his fingers before lifting it to his nose and breathing in. I’m fairly certain my jaw drops slightly at the sight of him like this, so close, so possessive, taking something I hadn’t offered for him to touch. His fingers slide through my hair with a gentleness that onlymakes the moment that much more intimate, that much more invasive. I should pull away, I should stop him, but instead a forbidden mix of desire and fear knots in my chest as I watch on like an idiot.
“God, you smell like trouble,” he murmurs, his voice husky and washing over me like a gentle wave despite the tsunami of a man in front of me. I’m about to lean in, unable to refuse the beckoning call of the warmth radiating off of his body, when he releases my hair and steps away. I didn’t even have to tell him I understood, he already knew I did. “Now be a good girl and go home.”
Chapter
Twenty
FLETCHER
Dylan scurried off and scurried home right after I told her to, my threat no longer idle, but ready to be put into motion if she hesitates to listen again. I wanted to tell her that I wasn’t a monster, but that just wouldn’t be true. I’m the very monster that lurks in the darkness, the very thing shethinksshe fears just as much as I’m the monster thatchoosesto be feared. And suddenly I’m taken back again.
The garage door is halfway open when I arrive at Jack’s house. He had asked me to come by and pick a few things up for him since he was stuck going through drills on base, so I wasn’t expecting anyone to be home. As I step inside, I hear muffled voices from the living room, and I freeze when I recognize Dylan’s. She’s supposed to be with her friends.
Her giggle cuts through the air as I hear a male voice whisper something to her before the sound of kissing reaches my ears. Oh, fuck no. I step fully into the living room and see a boy on top of Dylan on the couch, his hands roaming in places they shouldn’t be. I clear my throat.
The boy scrambles off of Dylan and her head snaps toward mine as she rights herself on the couch, her face pale. “Fletcher? What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” I say, my eyes narrowing on the boyfriend, or whoever the fuck he is, who shifts uncomfortably under my gaze.
“I was just leaving…” the boy mumbles, grabbing his jacket and making a quick exit. I don’t move until the door click shuts behind me. When I turn back to Dylan, she’s glaring at the floor and has her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
“What the fuck was that about?” I ask, my voice calm but laced with steel.
“Nothing,” she mutters.
“It didn’t look like nothing,” I counter as I cross my arms.
Dylan hesitates, her fingers twisting in her lap. Then, as if deciding to rip off a Band-Aid, she looks up and blurts, “I slept with him, okay? Are you happy now?”
I freeze, her words hitting me like a slap. For a moment, I can’t do anything but stare at her in disbelief. “You—what?”
She huffs, her cheeks flushing. “I’m not a little kid, Fletcher. I knew what I was doing.”
Fury, red hot and unfamiliar when it comes to her, rushes through my veins. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re fourteen, Dylan. Fourteen! Do you even understand what you’ve done?”
Her jaw tightens. “It was my choice.”
“It was a stupid fucking choice. You’re a kid! You don’t even know what that means yet,” I scoff as I pace the room.
