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“I love fucking Wesley’s little sluts. You think you’re the first? No, sweetheart, but definitely the most innocent.”

My screams are trapped, my tears falling as I begin the same disillusioned blackout as the plane. But something, unknown, kicks in, and when I pretend to grab his crotch for pleasure, I squeeze it tight and punch it, causing him to wince in pain.

When he topples over cursing at me, I run out of the room panicked. There are several doors, but I find my way outside the front, out of breath, face drenched in tears.

There is no Wesley, just the driver. I want to find him, tell him to save me, but I fear Carson, terrified that my panic will cripple me, and he will have his way with me.

Wesley appears out of nowhere, frantically looking for me. “What’s wrong?”

“I want to go. Now.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you crying?”

“Take me home,” I cry, shaking.

I run to the car, ignoring the house and the monsters inside. Wesley hovers by the door, leaving it open, which only fuels my anxiety.

“I’ll tell them we’re leaving.”

My neck twists, chin trembling, distressed. “Do it, and I’m gone.”

“You’re gone? Would you just make fucking sense?”

“Take me home,” I beg.

“We’re going, okay?” he utters, rolling his eyes with annoyance.

We sit in the car in silence, Wesley staring out the window in a distant gaze. I hold back the rest of my tears, reliving what happened with Carson.

Every woman fears being raped, but when the reality is so close, perspective changes.

Where was Wesley to protect me? This is his family.

I will forever be bound to them if our relationship progresses.

I don’t think I can do this. All the pain, the hardship—love isn’t getting me through it. It’s only making it harder to climb out.

And Wesley, he hasn’t said one word to me in the car.

He doesn’t care that he found me upset, or that I want so desperately to getaway.

My phone buzzes in my purse, momentarily distracting me. I pull it out and see that Mama has responded to my text.

Mama: It’ll be nice to have you home. Liam misses you xx

I shake my head in confusion at the mention of his name. Liam seems like a lifetime ago, yet safe, comforting—all the things that Wesley isn’t giving me. He continues to sit across the other side, this gap between us seems impossible to bridge.

Knocking on the glass window, it slides down and the driver leans his ear to listen. “Sir, can you please take me home?”

The driver looks at Wesley through the rear-view mirror, awaiting a response. Wesley continues his code of silence, and thankfully, the driver follows my instructions.

Turning to face the window, I spend the remaining journey silent.

Nothing but me, my thoughts, and the devil beside me.

Chapter Twenty-Five

We drive down my street, it’s relatively early, and the neighbors are out doing their usual Saturday night bickering on the sidewalk. When the driver parks the car, many turn to watch, and more notably, one has a long-lensed camera.

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