Page 115 of Close

“Don’t be naive. Sebastian’s a player. He’ll use you like a whore, and the second he gets what he wants, he’s going to toss you aside.”

My body goes rigid.

Jason’s gaze narrows. “Something happened between you two, didn’t it? Did you sleep with him?”

Tears gather in my eyes, threatening to spill over. I can’t find the words to respond.

“Fucking hell, Lil. How could you be so stupid? Falling for his lies, letting him use you like that?”

A sob escapes me. “Stop. Please, stop.”

“No, you need to hear this. Sebastian Barron is bad news. He doesn’t care about you. He never did.”

I shake my head vehemently. “You’re wrong.”

“Oh, I know his type all too well. Rich, entitled, thinks he can have whatever—or whoever—he wants. And you fell right into his trap.”

He’s wrong. What Sebastian and I have is real. But doubt creeps in, insidious and suffocating.

“Please, Jay,” I say. “Leave me alone.”

“I’m trying to protect you. Someone has to since you clearly can’t do it yourself.”

He doesn’t know the first thing about our relationship. I wipe my tears with the back of my hand. “Get out.”

Jason blinks, taken aback. “What?”

“You heard me. Get the fuck out of my room. Now.”

“Lil, I’m looking out for you.”

I burrow myself back into the covers, hiding my face. “I don’t need you to look out for me. I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly, you can’t. But fine, have it your way. Don’t come crying to me when your uncle gets into problems because of you. Because the second it gets out that you two are together, he will lose business partners.”

I don’t respond.

The door slams shut, and I’m hopefully left alone in my shattered world. I curl into myself again, silent sobs wracking my body.

How dare he judge me? Judge Sebastian? He doesn’t know a damn thing about what we have. He would’ve told me if he knew.

But Uncle Marc’s words echo in my mind, taunting me.The Barrons are the enemy. They’llonly use you.

No. I refuse to believe it. Sebastian wouldn’t do that to me. He couldn’t fake the way he looked at me, touched me… Could he?

My chest constricts, doubt and fear suffocating me. I need to talk to Sebastian. I need to hear the truth from him.

I glance at the remnants of my phone on the floor. Fantastic. In a fit of rage, I destroyed my only lifeline to him.

I’m too tired anyway.

Exhaustion consumes me, dragging me into a fitful slumber. I drift in and out of it, the lines between reality and nightmare blurring. The red room haunts me, the sewing machine’s relentless hum echoing in my mind. Shadows dance on the walls, morphing into grotesque shapes.

I toss and turn, tangling myself in the sheets. Sweat beads on my forehead as I mumble incoherently, pleading for the torment to end. But there’s no escape. The darkness drags me under again and again, each time more suffocating than the last.

A noise pierces through the haze, startling me awake, and I bolt upright, gasping for air. The room is shrouded in shadows, but something is different. Wrong.

A dark figure sits at the edge of my bed, unmoving. Fear grips my throat, rendering me mute. I blink rapidly, trying to clear my vision. Is this another nightmare?

---