Page 97 of Controlled Burn
Talia swallowed. Nodded. Once.
His hand slipped beneath her shirt. Palm flat, warm, over her ribs.
She let him. Let the shame wrap her tight.
But as soon as his fingers found her bra, she moved.
Hard. Fast. Knee to his crotch.
Brooks doubled over with a grunt, breath knocked out.She stepped back, voice cold. “Try it again, and I’ll break more than your ego.”
She walked out, hands trembling, heart pounding, shame and relief swirling. She didn’t look back. Didn’t run. Just walked out into the night air that felt too clean for the filth clinging to her skin.
That night, she locked every door. She stared at her phone. Half-hoping Dean would text. Half-hoping he wouldn’t.
When she finally touched herself—alone, silent, sore—it wasn’t Brooks she pictured.
It was Dean. Dean’s voice. Dean’s hands. Dean’s punishment.
And the worst part? She didn’t know if she wanted him to save her—or destroy her all over again.
***
The Watcher / Brooks
He watched her leave. Bent double, breath rasping, cock and pride both throbbing with humiliation and rage.
She was tougher than he thought. Quicker. But he’d seen the way her body trembled when he touched her throat. The way her thighs pressed together, like she was trying to hold something in—or beg for more.
She thought she’d escaped.
She had no idea.
Brooks straightened slowly, hands shaking, eyes burning a hole through the battered bathroom tile. He pictured her as she’d looked at the moment of her decision—defiant, furious, alive with adrenaline. That look. That spark.
He was hooked.
He’d learned what she wanted, what she needed. Shame, threat, hunger, danger. And the beauty of it? She’d given him everything he needed.
He would try again. He’d be patient. He’d watch her. Wait for her to slip.
And next time? She wouldn’t get away.
Not until she learned to love being seen.
He pocketed the last photo—the one he hadn’t given her—and walked back down the empty hallway, smiling to himself, the echo of her scent haunting the dark.
She thought it was over.
But it hadn’t even begun.
Chapter 36
Breach
Talia
The next morning, the fire station was quiet, dim in that bleary pre-dawn haze where the lights overhead cast long, yellow streaks across the tile and concrete. The kind of morning that felt sticky with leftover heat and unfinished sleep. Talia’s knees hit the bathroom tile with a dull thud.
