Page 32 of Break Me

She pushes past him, bare feet hitting the porch. Her eyes go wide when she sees me.

“Sam?”

“Get inside.” My voice comes out sharp.

“What are you doing?"

“Raven, go.”

She shakes her head, panic rising in her throat. “No. If you’re⁠—”

“Raven.” I grit out her name. “Please.”

Knox’s boots hit the ground with a thud. “What the hell is going on?” he demands, eyes darting between his sister and me.

Jon’s eyes cut through me. “Go on, Wolf. Tell your brother here why you showed up at my front door.”

My stomach drops.

Knox’s gaze snaps to me. “Tell me what, Wolf?”

Raven makes a strangled sound, stepping forward, but her father’s arm shoots out, blocking her with a fierceness that freezes the air.

“Knox—” I start, but I don’t get any further.

His fist connects with my jaw before my brain can process the movement. A white flash explodes behind my eyes, and I hit the gravel on one knee, tasting blood.

Raven screams. A raw, broken sound that slices straight through the pounding in my skull.

“Samuel,” she yells as she throws herself between us before he can swing again, hands flat on Knox’s chest, her whole body shaking.

Knox’s breath heaves out in harsh, uneven bursts. He’s looking at me like I’m a stranger who broke in and stole the most important thing in his life.

Jon steps down off the porch, voice deadly quiet. “Tell him the rest, Samuel,” he says. “Don’t make my daughter do it.”

My pulse hammers, blood dripping from my lip.

Raven turns to me, tears streaking down her cheeks.

Every rib screams in protest as I push up to my feet and meet Knox’s blazing stare. His chest is heaving. His fists flex like he’s deciding whether to hit me again or tear me apart with his bare hands.

Raven’s voice slices through the chaos. “Knox, stop. Please.”

He doesn’t look at her. Not yet. His fury is all for me.

“Tell me it’s not true,” Knox growls. “Tell me you haven’t fucking touched my sister.”

Jon steps between us just enough to stop Knox from lunging again. His gaze pins me in place.

“Wolf,” he says quietly, “this is your chance.”

A warning. A sentence. A door slammed shut unless I open my damn mouth.

Raven grabs her father’s arm. “Pop, please⁠—”

“Raven.” His tone is sharp, the kind that ends every argument. “Get in the damn house.”

“No,” she cries. “You don’t understand⁠—”