"Are you ready to talk, or do you want another stint in there?"
My eyes widen. I can't believe he's still pressing. My bruises are still fading, which means I can't have been in the hole too long, but they mostly don’t hurt anymore. "I can't tell you," I say, and before I can stop myself, I add, "or he'll literally kill me."
"That won't happen. Our institution won't allow it."
Sure. I want to say something smart, but I don't get the chance. Griff points a finger right at my face, and I feel it flush hot.
"You have until tomorrow to tell me, or it's another week in the hole. And so on, and so forth. Got it?"
I nod. My mouth is dry. I don't think I could say anything.
"You'll get one day to remember how good it feels out here. I want you to reflect on your choices. Come on."
I nod again.
He walks me back to my room and opens the door, then closes it, locking us there. It's Quiet Time, and when Jack sees me, he yells and jumps up to hug me. Even Miles sits up on his bunk and smiles. Harry waves, wearing that big smirk that means he's about to make fun of me.
But who I really want is Ethan.
And I've never seen that expression on Ethan’s face before.
He's about to cry.
That's the only way to describe it. He looks like he's fighting back tears, eyes watering, bottom lip quivering. My heart races. I hug Jack briefly, ignore Harry, and go to Ethan.
He hugs me so tightly I start crying, both from the pain exploding across my bruised ribs and from how fucking much I've missed him. His body is so big next to mine, so solid and comforting. His scent, his warmth.
"What the hell were you thinking?" he whispers, kissing the top of my head, burying his face in my hair.
"I'm sorry," I say, still crying, still hugging him. I never want to let go. The safety of his arms. How good he feels.
"What happened, baby?" he asks, softly, searching my eyes for answers. I want to lie. I want to tell him the same thing I told Griff. But I don't have it in me. I'm just so sad and so tired.
"Garrett got me alone one day," I whisper.
"I'm gonna kill him."
I've never seen Ethan like this. Pure rage takes over his body. He starts shaking. I can feel the goosebumps on his skin. His breathing goes shallow, nostrils flaring. He looks like he's seconds from going there, right now, and actually murdering Garrett.
"No! No, please, you can't tell him I told you. He can't find out! He's going to kill me! He said he would, and he actually almost killed me. He could have," I tell him, and I'm so desperate I'm shaking too.
Ethan looks at me, the anger evaporating when he sees me on the verge of a breakdown. He hugs me again immediately, petting my hair, shushing me.
"It's okay, baby," he whispers, and I don't think he cares if the others hear. "I've got you. Daddy's here. I'm going to take care of it. You don't have to worry."
"No! I mean it!" I exclaim, tears starting again. I feel sick. I really need to vomit. Really, really.
"Shh," he says, holding me against his chest. I can hear his heart beating, and it grounds me immediately. "It's okay. I'm here. You're okay."
"Griff said I have to tell him by tomorrow, or I go back to the hole for another week," I say, barely making sense because I'm crying so hard it's difficult to speak.
"Hey, hey, shh. It's okay," he says. "I've got you."
"You can't tell him, Ethan, please!" I feel completely desperate.
"Don't think about this anymore, baby," he says. "I told you I'll handle it, okay?" I don't answer. He grabs my chin, gently, and makes me look at him. "Okay?" he repeats.
I nod. I'm sure I'm pouting.
