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“Missed you too.”

We’d never dared meet like this before. The rare stolen minutes at school were barely enough to wet our appetites for each other, too many people watching, too many risks. But here, in my space, alone… I wanted to breathe him in and soak in his presence. My parents would kill me if they knew. They weren’t home.

The thought echoed through me like a promise. For one night, I didn’t have to hide. Even if it was only the touch of his hand, it would be enough. That strange exhilaration of knowing someone cared, dared even, to look at me like he did.

He stepped closer. His hand found mine. His fingers were cold from the night air, but they warmed against my palm.

“You okay?” he asked. Maybe he felt the pounding of my heart through my veins in his palm against mine. I was certain it fluttered like a bird, excitement and joy a constant beat of wings in my chest. I was almost certain I could fly.

“Yes.” I nodded, staring up into his face, memorizing the dim light reflecting in his eyes, the curve of his lips.

“Your parents are out for a while?”

“Every third Thursday.” I had no idea where they went, and I didn’t care. Not right now. Not when he was looking at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to hold his hand and never let go.

So I kissed him.

Clumsy. Probably bad. But he opened for me, making a sound against my lips, part relief, then something hungrier. His hands found my waist. We were awkward, nervous, completely lost in each other. Just touching him, feeling this chaos of emotion, need, hope, and adoration, was something I feared I’d never experience. I longed to drown in it, and him, and forget all the rest of my chaotic and depressing life alone.

The door burst open, startling us apart, though Jason clutched me tight, refusing to let go.

My father filled the doorway. Gone was the mild-mannered man most people knew, lean, well-dressed, always ready with a polite smile for the neighbors. In his place stood something dark and looming, larger than I’d ever remembered him being, even through all the years I’d spent avoiding his anger. His face was twisted with rage, his snarl like an animal ready to attack. He never looked more terrifying than in that moment.

He’d always been a monster wearing a suit to me, fast to raise his voice or his fist. And he’d just taken off the mask.

“Dad…” I began, trying to put myself in front of Jason. To shield him. To protect him from whatever was about to happen.

Jason kept his arm wrapped around me, pulling me closer instead of pushing me away. “It’s okay,” he murmured, though I could feel him shaking. “I’ve got you. It’s not what you think, Sir,” Jason tried.

My father crossed the room in three strides. His hand closed around Jason’s throat and ripped him away from me. Jason’s feet left the floor—he yelped as he was thrown against the wall, his head cracking against the plaster. He slid to the ground, dazed, blinking in confusion.

“Dad,” I tried again, holding up my hands. Years of trying to be smaller, to pretend to be non-threatening, those things usually calmed him. Not this time.

His fist connected with my face.

An explosion of pain, and the world tilted. I found myself on the floor by the window in one blink to the next. A kick landed in my gut, hard, brutal, stealing what little breath I had left. A rib splintered and I cried out in pain, sparkles of darkness popping around my vision in warning.

I gasped for breath, and couldn’t scream, or beg for help. Jason protested, crawling toward me. Blood trickled from the back of his head, and he kept blinking as he struggled to keep from falling over. But the toe of my father’s shoe heading for my face was the last thing I saw as the world vanished into darkness.

The sound of chanting roused me.

I couldn’t help but roll over and hurl, nausea sending a spattering of stars across my vision, stars that crackled and flickered.

Wait. That was fire.

What the hell?

I was outside. The scent of grass and woodsmoke filled my nose. In the dark, towering pine trees loomed overhead, their shadows echoing the eerie voices whispering things I didn’t think were in any language I recognized.

A sobbing broke through the humming voices.

I blinked a dozen times, eyes stinging with smoke until the blur eased and I saw Jason a few feet away. He whimpered, curled in on himself.

“Jason,” I whispered, trying to reach for him.

Everything hurt. When I tried to put pressure on my left arm, it collapsed beneath me and screamed in agony. I stared at it in confusion, it looked twisted, wrong. Broken, maybe.