“Damn, Sades! I’ve seen you toss back tequila easier than that. Whiskey too much for you?” Emmett teases.
I don’t respond. I can’t.
Because the warmth seeping through me isn’t from the alcohol. It’s from Lane’s arms. My hands tingle. Too close. Too tight.
The safety of his embrace presses in, heavy and smothering—like a wet blanket thrown over flames.
I twist to look at him, my voice low and flat. “You’re drinking?”
“C’mon, baby. It’s not a big deal.”
If I wasn’t looking directly at him, I would’ve sworn on my life someone else had said the words.
I try to stand but his arms clamp tighter. His mouth drops to my ear, hot breath soaked with whiskey. “Let’s go to my room. I’ve been dreaming about you … tasting you … sinking deep into your sweet little pu—“
“Lane.”I shove his chest, wrenching myself free. My pulse ricochets in my throat as I back away, needing distance.
But he’s faster.
He lurches to his feet, closing the space between us until my back hits the wall.
He leans in slowly, inhaling me like I’m prey. My stomach rocks and I make the mistake of closing my eyes, squeezing them shut. My nails dig into my palms and the air around me becomes too heavy to swallow.
And then—I’mthere.
In that house.
Hands up my dress.
My heart is racing, and I can’t move.
I can’t—I can’t breathe.
“Were you with someone else?” The words slur and slice at the same time—loose around the edges but cold at the center, his glassy eyes narrowing on me.
The laughter in the room dies. I can feel every pair of eyes shift toward us. “What? No, I was right outside—“
“Don’t lie to me,” he spits, and I instinctively flinch, pressing myself harder against the wall. “You finally got a taste and now you’re alittle slutwho will let anyone between your legs.”
My chest hollows, the air thinning until I can’t get a full breath. My pulse hammers in my ears, and the room tilts—too loud, too bright—as if the floor might give way beneath me.
“Lane, stop—“ I manage, but it’s swallowed by chaos.
Before I can fully process what’s happening, strong hands wrench Lane off me. The sudden absence leaves me unmoored, like I’m underwater and everything above is breaking apart.
I sink to the floor and a broken, desperate sound claws out of me—a sob, a gasp, I don’t even know, but it’s quickly drowned by ragged sobs that shudder through my whole body. I curl into myself, arms tightening around my knees as if holding myself together is the only thing left.
The room swims. Voices echo, disjointed—a deep voice shouting, a chair scraping against the wood, someone’s boots pounding the floor. The sounds stretch and flatten, like they’re coming through a heavy fog.
Hands reach out and pull me to my feet. I look up at Lydia as she guides me over to the living room next to Emmett.
“What thefuckis going on?“ she demands.
Emmett mutters something but I barely hear him. My hands won’t stop trembling. I can’t unclench them.
Was Lane going to hit me?
I glance back. Landon is wedged between Wesley and Lane, hands on their shoulders, keeping them apart. Wesley’s chest heaves, rage etched in every line of his body. Lane sways on his feet, barely upright, a stranger wearing the face of the person I thought I knew.
