“Lily—” I clench my teeth so hard I taste blood. “Send me your location, or I swear to God I’ll tear apart every club in this city until I find you.”
She sighs like I’m exhausting. “Fiiiiiine.”
A second later, my phone pings with her location, and I’m already moving like my life depends on tracking her down.
When I find her, she’s in a corner booth at some trendy bar in the heart of London, half asleep against the same guy from that photo, the one who doesn’t deserve to even look at her, letalone touch her. He’s stroking her hair like he owns her. Like he has any right. I swallow hard, the anger twisting in my gut into something fierce and desperate. Not on my watch.
I cross the space between us without hesitation. My hand tightens on his shirt before I even realise I’m moving, pushing between him and my stepsister like a shield she didn’t ask for but damn well needs.
“Get the fuck away from her,” I growl, voice rough with everything I’m holding back. “If you eventhinkabout touching Lily again, I swear, I will find you. And when I do, I’m going to tear you apart, starting with every goddamn part of you that’s touched her. You don’t deserve to breathe the same air she breathes. Now get the fuck out of my sight.”
He stumbles back, eyes wide and confused. “Yo, man, chill—”
“Now.” My voice leaves no room for argument.
He takes one look at me—at the fire burning behind my eyes—and bolts.
Lily blinks up at me, her eyes smeared with mascara, glassy and unfocused. She looks like she’s been pulled under by everything I can’t fix.
“Matty. You came.”
Her voice cracks. It should make me feel better, but it only digs a knife deeper in my chest. Because what the hell am I supposed to say? That I’m terrified? That I’m furious? That I want to rip him apart for touching her like that? That I want to protect her from the whole goddamn world, even when she pushes me away?
“Yeah,” I sigh, trying to keep it steady. “Congratulations, you gave me a fucking heart attack tonight, let’s go.”
She pouts like a kid who’s just been caught doing something wrong. “You didn’t have to come.”
I hate that she thinks she can handle this alone. Hate that she feels shehasto. “Come on, you’re wasted. We’re leaving.”
Her shoulders slump, like she’s giving up on fighting me tonight. “I don’t wanna go. I was having fun.”
That word—fun—and what it implies tastes like ash in my mouth. My jaw twitches, a silent warning.
“Not anymore.”
I grab her arm and help her up. She sways into me, perfume thick and suffocating, and I hate how much it pulls me in. How much I want to hold her close and never let go, even though I know she can never be mine. Not in the way either of us wants.
“Matt…” she whispers, fragile and scared. “Don’t be mad.”
I don’t answer. How can I? How can I be anything but mad? Mad at the guy, mad at the situation, mad at myself for feeling so goddamn helpless. Instead, I just steer her through the crowd, ignoring the way every eye is on us.
When we hit the cool night air, it hits me like a slap. Lily shivers and stumbles, unsteady in her heels.
I shrug off my jacket, draping it over her shoulders. She clutches the fabric, burying her face in it like she’s trying to breathe me in. Like she’s searching for something steady in the chaos.
“Matty,” she mumbles, voice barely audible. “He said I was pretty.”
That breaks something inside me. I should be the one telling her that. Should be the one making her feel like she’s the only one who matters, but I can’t, and it fuckingkillsme.
“You don’t need some random asshole to tell you that.”
She lifts her head, eyes glossy and full of something raw and aching. “But you never say it.”
I want to tell her it’s not true. I want to tell her all the things I never said out loud. But the words stick like stones in my throat.
“That’s not true,” I manage after a long moment, catching her wrist as she reaches up to touch my face. Not to stop her, but to feel her skin against mine because, apparently, I’m a fucking masochist.
“I missed you.” Her words come out so low I don’t think she intends me to hear them, but I do. And suddenly everything inside me twists—a mess of guilt, longing, and the stupid,stupidway I want her to be mine.
