“I scared you.”
Thrust.
“Again.”
Thrust.
“I scared you.”
Thrust.
“That’s it,” he says. “Take it.”
His pace doesn’t let up, each snap of his hips pushing me into the mattress. I grip the sheets as the headboard hits the wall.
“Don’t move unless I tell you to.”
His hand moves to the front of my throat.
“Stay with me,” he whispers against my ear. “Don’t disappear on me again.”
He pulls me back against him again, my back to his chest, as he squeezes my throat harder. Brawley shows me how much he cares, in the way only we know how. My vision blurs, and my whole body tightens around him. When I tip over the edge, he is right behind me, my name on his lips, his grip tight enough that it’s all I feel.
Once he pulls out, I roll over onto my back, but Brawley remains above me and presses his forehead to mine. “Don’t do that to me again. I hate not knowing where you are.”
“Microchip me,” I say, and his brow furrows.
“You’re not a fucking dog, Vero.”
I smirk at him. “No shit, but then you’d always know where I am.”
He rolls us sideways and pulls me against him. I know he won’t microchip me, though there are a few people here who will. I never want him to be scared again about not being able to find me.
Kayla
Working every night is the only thing that has kept me sane. That night keeps running through my head, and I try to figure out if there were any signs I missed that things were going to escalate. Though I remind myself that none of this is on me, I am programmed to believe that I could have stopped it.
Rogue bounces toward me at the end of my shift and leans against the bar. “You’re off until next week.”
I open my mouth to argue that I can’t afford a week off; she knows that.
She holds up a finger. “This is non-negotiable. I could have fired you, but I didn’t.”
I nod. How can I argue with that? “I know, and I am thankful.”
“You’ve been running on fumes for days—I can see it on your face. Whether you like it or not, you need time to work through whatever it is you’re going through.”
“I’mfine,” I protest, but she narrows her eyes.
“I’ve known you for three years, and you are not fine, Kayla. Go home and sleep for a week if that’s what it takes. But you are not to step foot back in this bar for seven days, or I will be forced to let you go.”
I don’t argue when Rogue has made up her mind; it’s final. She won’t budge, and I am just glad she didn’t fire me. If I had to find a new job, I don’t know what I would do. I barely have enough savings to survive the week off, let alone losing my job.
The nights have gotten cooler the last few days, and I pull my jacket on before I walk outside. I take the long way home, needing to clear my head, and I am in no hurry. I love having my own space, but sometimes it gets lonely, and I think that’s why I stayed with Kyle for so long. His apartment was comfortable, and while I knew he was cheating for at least half of our relationship, it was nice not to be alone.
When I’m still half a block from home, the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. I know the feeling of being watched; it comes with the territory of working in a bar, and I can feel when eyes are on me. I scan the area but find nothing out of the ordinary. The street is empty, it’s late, and I’m tired. I don’t normally scare easily, but my nerves are on edge after the other night, so I pick up my pace. Once I round the last corner, turning onto my street, the feeling vanishes, and I laugh at myself.
Mabel is on the front step, which isn’t unusual. Sometimes the older women in the neighborhood get togetherfor what they claim is a book club, but I never see a book—only wine and snacks.