“Got your address from the bar owner. Had to ask twice.” A pause. “He warned me not to mess with Jacob.”
I swallow hard.
“Sit with me,” I say, nodding toward the top step of the porch before lowering myself down beside him.
The wood bites into the back of my legs as I sit, and pain flickers up my thigh—harsh enough to make me wince. I try to hide it, pressing my palm there like that’ll somehow quiet the ache. I glancetoward the dark stretch of road where Jacob’s truck should be and swallow hard.
“Why would you… risk that? Coming here?” My voice cracks on the last word. Fear creeps into my chest, cold and heavy. “If he finds you here….” His eyes meet mine again—and this time it’s athreatagainst whatever’s hurt me. He drops onto the porch steps, taking a seat beside me.
“Because I can’t stop thinking about you,” Benny admits, voice cracking. “About last night. The dance. The way he grabbed you—like you weren’t a person, just something that belonged to him.”
I don’t know what to say.
The heat in his voice—it’s not anger. It’s heavier.Denser.
He leans back, arms braced against the steps, and his T-shirt lifts—exposing the cut of muscle at his hips, the dark line leading down into his trousers. The sight steals the air from my lungs before I can stop it.
His presence fills the space between us without demanding it. It’s overwhelming—but not like Jacob. Not loud, not designed to cut. It’s different. He’s steady. He’ssafe.
“You weren’t meant to see what he did,” I whisper. “Jacob….” I falter. Swallow. “He likes control. I was supposed to be waiting for him. Not… not out there.”
Benny’s jaw flexes. His chest rises, slow and sure like he’s holding back the storm that lives somewhere just beneath his ribs. “But I did see it,” his voice is low, steady, but the edges fray. “And I don’t understand why you’re still here. Why you let him treat you like this.”
A pause.
“You don’t deserve it, Summer.”
It’s the softness that almost undoes me. I look away. Because if I keep looking, I’ll break open and never find all the pieces.
“I appreciate you coming, but honestly. I’m alright. Things are just misunderstood, that’s all.”
He moves enough to feel the heat of him. The weight. The steadiness. It fills the cold space between us like mortar in a cracked wall.
“You can’t fool me,” he says.
Quiet. Firm. Unshakable. My eyes lift to his, and I want to tell him. I want to spill it all—the way Jacob tied my choices into knots, the way my voice disappeared one 'yes' at a time, the way fear becomes habit when you’ve lived in it long enough. But I can’t. Because if I speak, it becomes real. And if it becomes real, Benny’s in danger.
“I think you ought to leave, he might come back soon.” The silence swells.
He doesn’t push, but I see the questions in his eyes. I see the fight, the fury, the ache to be my knight in shining armour, rushing to fix everything in my life.
Then—his hand. It lifts. Slow. Careful. Like I’m something fragile butworthholding. Fingertips brush my jaw, featherlight. My pulse stutters. For a moment, just one fragile, foolish moment—I forget Jacob exists. Forget the rules. The threats.
Benny pulls himself to stand. Somehow, I hadn’t realized howbighe was until now.
I’m tall—five-nine. I don’t shrink around men. But Benny? He towers. Six-four, maybe more. Built like a man who knows what work feels like. Shoulders broad enough to carry other people’s damage—and his own. But he doesn’t wield it.
Jacob’s always felt big, too. But Jacob is athreat. A storm in human skin. All furnace and fuse. His size isn’t comfort—it’s a cage. His hands never offer. They claim. They bruise. They burn.
But Benny—Benny is a mountain. Not the kind that casts a shadow. The kind you climb when the rest of the world falls away. He doesn’t demand space. Heisspace. And somehow… that makes me feel safer than I should. Safer than I have in years.
I look up. Drawn like tide to shore. His eyes are still on me. Not dissecting. Not devouring. Just…seeing. Like I’m not a project. Not a problem. Not a puzzle to be solved. Like I’m already whole, even with all the pieces missing.
Benny doesn’t move. Instead, he reaches out. Slow. Gentle. Like he’s approaching a wounded thing that might still have teeth. His fingers slip beneath my arm and guides me to my feet. He lifts mewith such aching care I almost sob. His thumb grazes the bruise beneath my elbow—A ghost’s touch.
Then he leans his head down and kissed the back of my hand. Not dramatic. Not showy. Just a whisper of warmth. A kiss that says nothing but‘I see you.’And for the first time in so long, I don’t feel like damage. I don’t feel like property. Or punishment. Or a body waiting for orders. I feel…human. His mouth lingers for half a breath before he lets go.
“You’ve got your guard up, and that’s smart. But know that I am here for you. Whenever you need me.”
