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“I love seeing you helpless,” Wes continues. “Holding that power over you… knowing we’re the only ones who can give you what you want—what youneed—that fuels me, Athelia.”
“But I can’t go on like this,” I whisper.
“You won’t have to. From here on out, things will be different. No more bullying. You’re ours now—for real this time. You have our loyalty. Our affection. Our protection.”
“I don’t understand.” My heart is breaking at the same time it feels like it’s getting stitched back together. “If you want to see me in pain, then I can’t—”
“There are other ways.”
I shudder. What could he possible mean? But Wes doesn’t elaborate. Instead, he leans down, closing the distance between us until his lips are pressed against my forehead in a sweet kiss.
It sends my mind back into that weird headspace I was in last night. He’s sogentle.It reminds me of how he treated me before everything fell apart.
But is it enough? How can it be enough?
I’llneverforgive them for what they’ve done.
“My soul,” Wes murmurs against my lips.
I try to hold back my sob. I really, really do. But Wes says it with so much weight, so much tenderness, and I’m already so tired and broken and confused. My body doesn’t care if I refuse to cry. And you know what? I’ve earned the fucking right to.
Wes doesn’t back away. He sits on the bed and somehow manages to snake an arm around me without causing me more pain. I sob into his chest while clinging to Mildred.
None of the guys say anything as I let out all my frustration and pain through my tears. It hurts my ribcage to do so, but I can’t stop.
Finding out that all the bullying I’ve endured for the past three years has been for no good reason is bad enough. Add on everything the boys did to me last night, plus Professor Kammes raping me this morning, and it’s just too much.
The whole time, Wes strokes my back. I feel so naive letting him comfort me when he’s a part of the reason I’m crying. If Haven was here, it’d be different, but I’m not close with anyone else on campus.
Everyone would just offer suggestions—tell me to go to campus security, to try to talk to someone else other than the head of the history department. I’d probably end up with a dozen pamphlets and at least three different therapists to call.
The thing is, that’s not what I need right now. Maybe tomorrow or next week, but not today. All I want to do is cry and sleep and then cry some more.
When my tears finally dry up, I realize I’m clutching Wes’s jacket, which is soaked. I expect him to make some annoyed comment, but he just thumbs away my tears.
Based on the amount of crumpled-up tissues in the trash can by my bed, I’m pretty sure I used up almost a whole box. When I sniffle, Wes hands me yet another tissue, and I blow my nose for the thousandth time.
“Do you need to be alone?” Cal asks. His brows are furrowed with concern, and I can still see the guilt that he’s doing his best to bury.
“I… I don’t know.” The thought of being alone scares me. I feel so raw—so unstable.
I want Haven.
“You should probably rest,” he says. “Even without your injuries, you didn’t get enough sleep last night.”
“And whose fault is that?” I snap.
Cal closes his eyes and releases a strained exhale.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly. “You were being nice. I don’t know why I did that.”
“I think you’re allowed to be a little mean,” Kellan says. His tone is light, and a small smile sits on his mouth, but the gravity of the situation isn’t lost on him. It’s clear in how he’s holding himself and in how he’s been watching me carefully this whole time.
“Probably,” I mutter. A yawn overtakes me, which hurts like hell.
“Yeah, you need to sleep.” Cal tugs on Wes’s arm. “We’ll come back later.”
“I’m not leaving,” Wes says.
