Page 88 of You Were Always Mine
My phone won’t stop buzzing.
It’s buried under the pillow, muffled, but the vibration still rattles through the mattress like a pulse I can’t ignore. I don’t want to look. I already know who it is.
Kai’s still asleep beside me. His chest rises and falls, steady, unshakable, like he could sleep through a hurricane. One arm is flung across my waist, heavy and possessive, pinning me down. I stare at his hand splayed over my stomach, at the faint bruises circling my wrists, at the marks along my collarbone that ache every time I breathe.
The phone buzzes again.
I slip my hand free, fingers trembling as I pull it out from under the pillow. The screen lights my face in the dark.
TYLER: You disappeared on me. Where the hell didyou go?
TYLER: Don’t ignore me, Scarlett. I know what you’re doing.
My throat goes dry. Another buzz hits before I can think.
TYLER: You liked it. Don’t pretend you didn’t.
My stomach twists. My fingers hover over the screen, useless, frozen. Because even if I delete them, even if I throw the phone against the wall, I can still hear his voice, the way his hand?—
The bed shifts. Heat rushes to my face as I shove the phone under the blanket, as if Kai hasn’t already felt the tension screaming off me.
“Who’s texting you this late?” His voice is rough with sleep, but sharp. Too sharp.
“Who’s texting you this late?”
His voice cuts through the dark like a blade, still heavy with sleep but sharpened enough to make my pulse spike.
My fingers squeeze the phone beneath the blanket, as if I can will it into silence. Another buzz trembles against my thigh.
I force a laugh, brittle, fake. “It’s just… Maddie. She can’t sleep; she’s freaking out about finals or something.”
Kai shifts beside me. The mattress dips as he props himself on one elbow, his shadow looming over me. I don’t dare look at him.
“Finals.” His tone is flat, disbelieving. “At three in the morning?”
“Yes,” I snap too quickly, too loud. My throat tightens. “She’s dramatic, you know that.”
Another buzz. My blood runs cold. I press my thigh down hard, trying to smother it, praying he doesn’t notice.
But Kai notices everything.
The blanket rustles. His hand slides over my waist, slow, deliberate, dangerous, like he’s testing how far he has to reach before I break and hand it over.
“You’re lying to me, Scar.” The words are low, not shouted, not angry. Worse. They vibrate through the air, steady and sure, threaded with something dark enough to make me want to curl in on myself. “And I don’t like when you lie.”
“I’m not lying.” My voice shakes, but I force the words out anyway, like spitting glass. “It’s Maddie. She’s just needy, Kai. You don’t have to?—”
“Don’t have to what?” His hand is still heavy on my waist, fingers pressing just enough that I can feel the threat humming underneath.
I swallow hard. My heart is thundering. “You don’t have to act like this. Not everything is about you. Not everyone is… watching me.”
Another buzz. Louder this time because I’m sure I’m imagining it amplified by the silence between us.
I squeeze my eyes shut, pushing the lie further down my throat. “She probably just needs me to talk her off a ledge or something, okay? Can you just—let me deal with it?”
The silence stretches. I know he doesn’t believe me. I can feel it in the way his breath brushes my cheek, calm, slow, patient like a predator waiting for me to run.
“Then answer her,” he says finally, quiet enough to make me flinch. “Prove it.”
