It fucking hurts.
I race to the back and find Tommy. His eyes crawl over me like oil.
“Break?” I ask.
“You’ve got thirty minutes,” he says, voice oily. “We’re about to get busy. You know Fridays.”
I nod. Pretend gratitude.
I glance back just once.
Dax is licking the edge of her neck.
It feels like being stabbed.
I bolt outside into the cold night air, shivers racing across my skin. I’d love to blame the weather. But we both know better.
I press my back to the wall, slide a cigarette between my lips, and stare at the moon glowing over the alleyway—silver light soaking into shadows.
The first drag is shaky.
The next hurts.
The third tastes like surrender.
He looked at her like I was nothing.
Like the mirror never happened.
Like my body never arched for him.
I take another drag and let it burn.
Footsteps echo. A group of men stumble past, eyes sticky with drink and arrogance. One whistles.
“Hey, bunny girl. You lost?”
I don’t answer.
His mate pulls him back. “Not that one.”
Not that one.
Not me.
I smirk.
But it doesn’t reach anything real.
I drop the cigarette, crushing it under my heel.
Fuck him.
Fuck this.
I don’t need any of it.
The door swings open.
