I don’t disassociate.
No.
Let them hurt me. Let them think they’re winning.
Every breath I take is a promise—I will get through this. I will survive.
And then? I’ll make them pay.
Anger burns through me, igniting my nerves, buzzing under my skin like fire on the edge of detonation.
“Play with yourself,” Lucas sneers. He’s angry I’m not breaking.
I spit in his face.
Wrong move.
Marcus stills. Lucas reaches for the knife.
Then slashes.
Flames burn across my cheek. I cry out, sharp and guttural.
He grins and sits again. “Good girl. Knew you could do it.”
The van jerks to a stop.
I’m thrown to the side, crashing into metal.
“We have company!” someone shouts from the front.
“How many?” Lucas barks, loading weapons.
“Too many. There’s an alley on the right. If you slip out now—”
“Grab her,” Lucas snaps.
Marcus yanks me up, opens the doors, then scans the alley. Satisfied, he hauls me out, locking me to his chest like a human shield.
Gunfire erupts. Shouts echo.
I twist—jerk—break free.
Run.
Back into the street.
Their angry yells chase me, but no footsteps follow.
I spin wildly.
And find green eyes.
Everything else disappears.
My feet move on instinct. He runs to me too.
Then—
