MACKENZIE
The sound I made was soft, involuntary. The entire group went silent.
“You seriously think I’d believe that?” Jackson sneered, rising with deliberate menace. Max was on his feet in an instant, matching his cold energy like a beast.
“I know you haven’t even fucked her,” Jackson spat, eyes gleaming with cruel confidence. “All that talk from you, but you’re just noise, Max. All bark, no bite.”
Max’s glare sliced through the air. “And how exactly would you know that?”
“Because I had her pressed into the back of my truck two months ago. She told me she was a virgin.” His voice dropped to a sickening whisper. “She was tight. Tight enough to bleed all over me.”
My heart lurched with a sickening thud as the terrifying memory of that night crashed over us.
Two Months Earlier
Marigold, Georgia
The lightsfrom the soccer field were still glowing faintly in the distance, casting long shadows across the empty parking lot. The game had ended over an hour ago, but Jackson didn’t seem in a rush to leave. He sat on the tailgate of his truck—shirt off, hair damp with sweat, cleats still on—legs dangling like he had nowhere else to be.
I sat between his knees, facing him, the cool night air brushing my skin.
“You were amazing out there,” I said, voice soft. My fingers traced the faint curve of muscle on his arm.
He smirked. Not cocky this time, but proud. “I’m glad you stayed for the whole game.”
“Every second,” I smiled, stretching up to kiss him lightly on the lips. I hesitated, then pressed another to his cheek, then his neck. I felt his pulse thrum beneath his skin. I heard his breath hitch, felt his fingers twitch on my waist.
“You always make me feel like the only guy in the world. I don’t know how you could love somebody like me,” he whispered in my ear.
I blushed. My heart fluttered. When he was like this, it was easy to forget the hours he went silent. How he could flip cold without warning, and warm again when it suited him.
Right now, he was golden. The Jackson I was falling for. Because I was an idiot.
“I want this to be special,” I murmured, brushing my hand through his damp hair. “You’re all I think about.”
He swallowed hard, nerves tangled with something warmer, darker.
“Are you… sure?” he asked, his breath catching. His thumb grazed my cheek. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”
I believed him.
We crawled into the back of the truck. The blanket he pulled out scratched against my legs. He kissed me like he had all the time in the world, whispering things that made me feel wanted, seen. But his hands were rough when he took my clothes off, and when I lay down, he didn’t wait for me to tell him I was ready.
When he slid the condom on, my thoughts immediately went to Max. I wanted to tell Jackson to stop—that I’d changed my mind, that I wasn’t ready—but within minutes he broke through my barrier and was inside me. The pain sliced through my body, stretching, burning. I wanted to cry. He stayed completely silent.
Jackson… I…” I pushed at his chest, but he grabbed my hands instead, pinning them above my head against the seat, holding me in place.
He didn’t ask if I was okay. He didn’t say a single word. He just rocked into me, mechanical, and in a few minutes, he was done. When he pulled out, I winced.
“Oh. You bled all over me,” he muttered, looking down.
His words hit me, and a feeling of dread surged through my veins. Every sound from outside the truck suddenly became loud. The distant hum of stadium lights cooling. A lone cicada screeching from the treeline. The metallic tick of the engine settling. I curled inward, pulling my knees to my chest, trying to make myself small.
His fingers hovered near me. My stomach churned. When he finally drew his hand back into the light, there was blood smeared across his skin.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, his voice carrying a feverish quality, as he lifted his fingers and placed them inside his mouth.
I gasped, breath catching like a knife lodged in my throat. For the first time all night, my heartbeat wasn’t fluttering—it was racing.
