Page 184 of Their Arrangement
Too fast.
Too sharp.
The ex.
His fingers around my throat. Not a stranger. Not a mask. But worse. His voice calm. His tone flat.
The way he pressed me against the bathroom wall.You like this, don’t you?My vision went grey.
I’d fought then too.
Kicked.
Bit.
But he’d held me down by the throat like it didn’t matter if I said no.
Like my fear was foreplay. Like my tears meant he was winning. I gasped now, dragged in air too fast. It scraped down my throat like glass.
I tried to blink the past away. Tried to ground myself. Ilooked at my phone. Still on the coffee table. Still lit. Still untouched.
No new messages.
No Wolfe.
No Loyal.
No Barron.
No one coming. The door didn’t open again. But the splinter down the frame said it could have. That it still might.
I stood on shaky legs. Stumbled to the hallway. Locked the bedroom door. Then the closet. Then the window. Everything.
Then I slid down the back of the door, knees pulled to my chest. The knife on the floor beside me. My head pressed to the wood.
Tears finally came.
Quiet.
Helpless.
Hot.
I rocked.
Back and forth.
Because that’s what Camille used to do when I broke down. Because it was the only thing I remembered from before everything got sharp.
I wanted Wolfe. Wanted him like a prayer. Not to hold me. Not to save me. But to see me. To know what I’d survived. To know I was still surviving.
My hands trembled. The garnet ring still pressed into the skin above my heart like a bruise. The chain felt heavier now. Like a leash I didn’t know if I was still allowed to wear. I pressed my forehead to my knees.
Breathed.
Breathed.
Breathed.
