Page 93 of You Were Always Mine
Kai stretches, casual as anything, and mutters, “She’s fine. Aren’t you, Scar?”
The way he says it—low, edged with something only I can hear—makes my stomach twist. Like he’s daring me to slip, to expose myself.
Another buzz rattles through my pocket. I flinch, biting down hard on my lip.
“Who keeps texting you?” Mum asks, as if it’s no big deal.
Heat floods my face. “Nobody. Just… notifications.” My laugh is brittle. “You know how it is.”
Dad shakes his head, muttering something about kids and their phones, but Kai’s still watching me, mouth curved in a smirk that doesn’t reach his eyes.
The film keeps playing, voices and laughter rising again, but it feels like I’m underwater—every sound muffled by the pounding of my heart. Tyler’s words are waiting for me on that screen, and Kai’s stare pins me harder than any threat ever could.
I hug the pillow tighter to my chest, wishing I could vanish into the cushions.
But Kai leans forward, grabs a handful of popcorn, and without looking away from me says, “Yeah. She’s fine.”
And I swear I hear the unspoken words under it—for now.
I slip away the second the film ends, claiming I’m tired, but my heart is already slamming in my chest before I even reach the hallway. I don’t go upstairs. Not yet. I duck into the bathroom, lock the door, and press my back against it like I can barricade the entire world out.
The phone burns in my hand.
Another vibration. Another message.
TYLER: Why aren’t you answering me? Don’t you think that’s rude after everything we shared?
My throat closes. My thumb hovers, but I type nothing. He doesn’t know—he can’tknow—about Kai. That secret would scorch the earth.
Another buzz.
TYLER: You think you can ignore me? You think I’ll just forget how you moaned, how you shook, how you begged? I’ll remind you if I have to. I’ll make you remember.
Tears sting my eyes. My stomach twists so violently I almost gag. I want to smash the phone against the porcelain sink, but my hands are shaking too hard.
The room feels too small. The mirror shows my wide, panicked eyes, mascara smudged from where I’ve rubbed too hard. I look ruined—exactly how he wants me to feel.
TYLER: If you don’t come see me, I’ll come find you. I know where you live, Scarlett. Don’t test me.
A sob catches in my throat before I can bite it down. My parents are right downstairs. Kai is out there too—probably pacing, probably simmering. If they heard me cry, they’d ask questions I can’t answer.
I drop onto the icy edge of the tub, curling in on myself, the phone clutched so tight my knuckles ache. My chest heaves, every breath broken, every thought spiralling. I can’t tell Kai. If he knew, he’d kill Tyler. And if Tyler knew about Kai…
The phone lights up again. I flinch.
TYLER: Don’t forget—you’re mine.
I press the screen to my chest, shaking, tears spillinghot and silent. My whole body feels trapped in a cage of fear and guilt, with no air and no way out.
I slide down against the cool tile, knees pulled to my chest, the phone burning in my hand like it’s radioactive.
The messages don’t stop. Every time I wipe my eyes and blink them clear, another one lights the screen—his name at the top like a knife pressed to my throat.Tyler.
Why? Why is he doing this?
He wasn’t like this. Not before. He used to be soft—clumsy in the sweetest way—the boy who tucked his hoodie around my shoulders in the cinema when I shivered, who brushed popcorn salt from my lips with a laugh. I thought maybe—stupidly, naively—he was safe.
And now, these words. Ugly, demanding, dripping with something dark. Threats tangled in the same hands that once slid mine into his beneath the armrest.
