Page 58 of Faking Summer
His hand shot out, closing around my wrist. I winced, pulse hammering against his thumb as he leaned close. "I can make you feel so much better than he can," Wells murmured, his voice dark and twisted. "Let me show you."
I tried to pull away, but his hold only tightened, fingers branding me with his unwanted touch. A cold laugh bubbled up from the pit of my stomach, mingling with the bile of fear. "Let go of me," I demanded, the command roughened by rising fear.
He refused to release me. My free hand clawed at his grip, trying desperately to pry his fingers from my skin, but it was like fighting against iron shackles.
Suddenly, he pivoted, maneuvering me until my back collided with the brick wall. The impact sent a jolt through my body. But even that physical shock couldn’t wake me from this nightmare.
"Let me show you," he grunted. "You and I both know you want this."
Desperation clawed inside me, a silent scream struggling to break free. His words slithered over me, igniting an inferno of defiance within my chest.
"Stop," I gasped, the word fractured. Wells's hand slithered up beneath the hem of my shirt. The world narrowed down to his touch, invasive and unwelcome, making me see pure red. His breath was ragged with anticipation, but then he loosened his grip just enough—a fatal mistake.
Seizing the opportunity, I drove my elbow hard into his stomach. A grunt of pain erupted from him. He staggered backwards, and the predatory gleam in his eyes was dimmed by the shock of retaliation. I spun on my heel, channeling every ounce of fury and fear. My knee connected with his balls, a statement that I refused to be his victim.
I didn't wait for him to recover. With adrenaline moving me, I sprinted back toward the bar, my heart pounding against my ribs. Each step was fueled by my desperation to find somewhere safe.The door burst open under my panicking push, and light and noise flooded over me.
I had tunnel vision as I searched through the bar until—Reese. I ran to him and hurled myself into his arms without hesitation, without thinking. He was the only sanctuary I wanted. His familiar scent enveloped me, the feeling of safety washing over and overwhelming me.
"Reese," I breathed. In his arms I found solace. He was a fierce protector encased in casual defiance. He was the only person I wanted, the only one who could make the trembling cease and give me the strength to pull myself together.
His arms wrapped around me firmly, anchoring me in his warmth. "Caroline, what happened? What’s wrong?” His voice was steady and soothing, though his eyes brimmed with unspoken worry that made my chest ache.
My lips were sealed shut because what could I say? I was still in shock.
He pulled back from me, and then I saw the twitch in his clenched jaw. And oh, I knew that twitch. That one that meant he was dead serious right now.
"Caroline, what's going on? Why are you upset?" The anxious voice belonged to Sam, who was seconds away from making a scene. She approached us, her eyes wide, searching for answers.
Reese's gaze snapped to her, "You, sit," he said, glancing from her to the chair behind her. Obediently, and with surprising quickness, Sam did exactly as he said. There was something about Reese in that moment—the raw intensity, the barely contained anger—that made my heart flutter. Fuck, he was incredibly sexy when he took control.
Reese's hand clasped my shoulder, his body shielding me from prying eyes. "Talk to me," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "And don't even think about lying to me or saying you're fine."
My resolve was melting under his steady gaze. I sucked in a deep breath, an attempt to gather my scattered thoughts. But the air hitched in my lungs as the back door creaked open, and I knewexactly who it was. Wells stumbled through, his face pale. The sight of him made me feel sick again.
I glanced at him, then back at Reese, whose jaw remained locked in a hard line. His eyes briefly flicked to Wells, tracking the direction of my gaze. Then, I saw it—the question he didn't want to ask but had to.
"Was it Wells?"
I nodded, feeling the affirmation catch in my throat. The acknowledgment felt like a betrayal, to myself, to the strength I thought I possessed to always take care of myself.
His hands balled into fists at his side. "What did he do? Caroline, if he even touched one hair on your head..."
My pulse throbbed in my ears. "It's okay," I murmured, the words brittle. "I fought back. I—I stopped him."
His broad shoulders tensed briefly before he let out a slow, heavy breath, the sound laced with the weight of his restrained anger. "What do you mean you fought back?" he asked, his voice low and deliberate.
"He said he heard we were together, and he said—” my words faltered.
“He said what?” he growled, another twitch in his jaw.
“He said that he could make me feel better than you can… he held me against the wall," I confessed as quietly as I could. "I told him to stop."
“He did what?” he asked, eyes narrowing.
The green of his eyes were now dark and stormy. The floor seemed to sway slightly under me as I continued. "Then he tried to touch me," I said, closing my eyes for a moment, "but I stopped him."
Reese's reaction was silence, a nod so subtle it could have been missed by anyone not looking for it. But I saw it, a silent understanding of everything that happened.
