Page 58 of You Belong With Me

Forcing the door open wider, he steps inside before closing it behind him. I take a step back as he advances deeper into the apartment. His expression is dark, sinister, and it sends a fissure of fear splintering through my chest.

“I’m not going anywhere, Wyn. I think you know that.”

I glance behind me at the door to the bathroom, which is wide open. I could grab my phone and dart inside, lock the door, then call for help. I know he’d just beat the door down eventually, but it would give me a few seconds to try and get help.

I don’t do that, though.

Why?Whydon’t I do that?

He takes a step toward me, and I’m not expecting it right at that moment, so I flinch.

“Wyn,” he says, taking another measured step. “You don’t need to be afraid of me. You, of all fucking people.”

I hold my hand up and shake my head. “Lucas, please listen to me. I can’t do this, okay? I can’t be with someone who just…shoves people in front of trains.”

His face is pulled into a frown. He looks tormented, and for a split second, the hardness in my heart softens. I know it shouldn’t. I know that. But I can’t fucking help it. When he says he would never hurt me, I’m one hundred percent certain that’s true.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, he hurts me in the most delicious ways—but I know with every ounce of my soul that he’d nevertrulyharm me. Still, does that make any of this right?

“Wyn,” he says again, holding his hand to his heart. His fingers curl inward like he wants to rip the dead organ right out of his chest. “Don’t do this.Please.”

“I didn’t do anything, Lucas. You did.”

He drops his hand and clenches his jaw, a tic pulsing in his cheek. His gaze roves over me before he drops his head, and he abruptly walks over to my French doors. They’re still wide open from when I escaped earlier, and he pulls them closed, locks them, and then pulls the curtains together.

The breath snags in my lungs. What’s he planning on doing that he doesn’t want anyone else to see?

Then he stalks toward me, his head low, like a predator sizing up his prey. His lips are pulled tight, his eyes dark, and as he approaches, fear paralyzes me.

“W-what are you going to do?” I ask, my voice wobbling a little.

He takes another step toward me, then another, and just when I’m sure he’s going to reach out and grab me, he brushespast me, instead, and walks to my front door. He reaches out for the doorknob, then pauses, like he’s considering turning back around, but a second later, he yanks the door open and walks out.

When the door clicks shut behind him, I release the breath I’d been holding and sink onto my bed. I reach for a pillow, hold it against my face, and scream into it. The tears hit me like a tidal wave, every emotion pouring out of me—sadness, anger, fear, confusion. I ugly cry into the pillow until my eyes sting, and I can’t breathe.

Finally, I sit up, sniff hard, and reach for my phone to text the only person on the planet who might understand what I’m going through.

Are you awake?

Lux’s reply comes a couple of minutes later.

Yeah, just watching mindless shit on the internet. What’s up?

I type out my response.

Can you come over? I don’t want to be alone tonight.

Her boyfriend, Roman, used to be the leader of the Sacred Sons, so she knows not to ask too many questions over text.

Be there in a bit.

I heart that, then collapse back onto the mattress and try not to let my thoughts stray to Lucas, but that’s impossible. He’s all I can see in my mind’s eye, the tortured look on his face, the way he touched me on the lifeguard tower.…

With a groan, I get up and walk to the bathroom. His cum has dried on the inside of my thighs, and I’d better clean up before Lux gets here.

Grabbing a shower cap, I cover my hair and hop in the shower. The hot water feels amazing on my skin, and I take my time soaping up. But if I wanted to distract myself from thinking about Lucas, then this was the worst possible way, because the last time I was in this shower, Lucas had me up against the tiles with his cock buried deep inside me. It was violent and primal, and just thinking about it makes my clit tingle.

I’m in the shower for so long that the water eventually runs cold, and I’m forced to shut it off. Stepping out, I dry myself, then pull the shower cap off and toss it aside. I step in front of the mirror to brush my hair and for the first time, I see the damage Gabriel did to my face. There’s a purple bruise on my cheek, just below my left eye, and a one-inch cut on my neck.

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