“He did things to me and my body…” I swallow hard, pain slicing through me. “My body reacted even when I was scared. Even when I hated it, it responded, like I wanted it when I didn’t. And I can’t stop thinking about how that makes me feel. Like maybe there’s something wrong with me.”
Macee squeezes my hand tighter, shaking her head, but I keep going, because I have to.
“And the books—the ones I made you read? All that dark romance, the stuff with chains and knives and power games—I used to wonder if there was something wrong with me for loving it. I thought it was just fantasy, you know? But now I keep wondering if maybe I’m broken, or maybe I made myself this way, and that’s why I couldn’t stop my body.”
The tears spill over, hot and silent. I swipe them away with the back of my hand, half ashamed, half desperate for relief.
“I’m not saying I wanted him. I swear to God, I never did. But my body—Mace, it betrayed me. And I can’t let myself off the hook. Not really.”
Macee’s eyes go fierce, her jaw set. “Sawyer.” She shakes her head, grabbing my face in her hands, making sure I’m looking right at her. “You are not broken. You are not sick. You are not responsible for what your body did. Trauma does fucked-up things to us. The way your body responded? It’s not consent. It’s biology. It doesn’t mean you wanted any of it. And as for those books? Half the world reads them, and the other half is lying about it.”
I let out a watery laugh, breath hitching.
She pulls me into a fierce hug, wrapping her arms around me so tight I can barely breathe—but for once, that feels like a good thing.
“I love you,” she says into my hair. “All of you. The part that survived, the part that’s still healing, the part that likes filthy books and dark fantasies. You are my best friend, and I will fight anyone who says otherwise—including you.”
I cling to her, letting myself cry for a moment longer, letting her strength hold me up. For the first time, I feel a little lighter. A little more seen.
When I finally pull back, Macee grins through her tears. “Ifyou’re donetraumatizing my towel, we should probably go swim before you try to talk me into a book club with actual knives.”
I laugh, the sound shaky but real. “Deal. But only if you promise never to stop loving me.”
She winks. “Bitch, you’re stuck with me for life.”
We slideinto the pool, the water cool and sharp against my skin, and it almost feels like everything could be normal again. Macee grabs a pool noodle and props her chin on it, watching me with those sharp, mischievous eyes.
I float next to her for a minute in silence, the ache in my muscles slowly fading as I let myself relax. But my brain won’t let me settle—not entirely. I keep thinking about everything I missed, all the time that passed while I was gone.
“So,” I say breaking the surface tension of the moment. “Did anything… happen? With you and the guys? While I was… You know, missing?”
Macee raises her eyebrows, surprised. “Me and the—? Girl, what? Are you asking if I had some emotional support orgy while you were out living your nightmare?”
I laugh, but it comes out more nervous than I mean. “I mean, I just—I was gone for a while. Everything feels different now. I just wanted to know if anything changed. You and Ash, or Jace, or Silas?”
Macee floats closer, bumping my arm with hers. “Sawyer. First, you’re the only drama this house can handle right now. Second—Ash tried to flirt, Jace tried to get me drunk and teach me how to play poker, and Silas, well, Silas glared at everyone and made sure nobody lost their shit.”
I let out a shaky breath. “So, nothing happened?”
She grins, wicked. “Nothing you’d be jealous of. Trust me, they were all a mess. Jasper and Riot were barely speaking to each other, Ash and Jace couldn’t go five minutes without fighting about who made the better playlist, and Silas—honestly, I think he was this close to locking them all in the basement.”
I snort, swiping water from my eyes. “Okay, but what about last night? After we got back? I feel like I missed half of everything again.”
Macee rolls her eyes dramatically, her voice pitched low and gossipy. “Oh, you mean after Riot went full caveman and carried you up the stairs like a rockstar Tarzan?”
I blush, but she’s already moving on, arms draped over the pool edge, kicking her legs lazily. “Yeah, so I followed you two up to check in on you, but got sidetracked by the world’s most useless delivery driver. Seriously, if attitude were a crime, that man would do life. He was thirty minutes late and gave me the wrong order, so I had to argue with him for ten minutes while clutching a chicken sandwich I didn’t even ask for.”
I laugh, biting my lip. “Sounds about right.”
She shrugs, hair slipping out of her bun, grinning. “Anyway, after I finally got the food inside, I ran into Silas in the hallway. He and the guys were doing this whole secret-agent rotation thing—one of them would sneak off to the basement every half hour to make sure Blake was still knocked out and not plotting a prison break.”
I freeze, suddenly cold despite the sun and the warm water pressing in around me. My body locks up, hands gripping the pool ledge until my knuckles ache.
Blake.
Back here?
I hadn’t even seen him. Not after the bathroom. Not once. I realize, with a sickening twist in my gut, that I never asked what happened to him. I didn’t care. I cared only about getting out.
