I sat there, the burger with one bite taken out of it lying in my lap.

“I have plans, Emory.”

He unfastened his seatbelt, and I closed my eyes.

“And you would fit in nicely if you stayed in school and stopped troubling me.”

His hand whipped against my face, and my head hit the window. I let out a small cry, fire and pain spreading across my cheek and skull.

No… My body started to shake.

No matter how I read the signs and braced myself, it was always so much harder than I thought it would be.

“I didn’t ask for this!” he screamed, grabbing my collar and slamming me into the door again. “I didn’t want it! Why can’t you help me out? Why can’t you be better?”

I opened my mouth to scream, but I gritted my teeth and bared down instead as he slapped me.

“Goddammit!” he yelled, gripping my collar so tightly the skin on my neck burned.

“Just…” He sucked in a breath, and I saw tears fill his eyes. “Just be fucking normal! Why do you do that, huh? Why?”

“Martin, stop…” I gasped.

I turned and opened the door, but he grabbed the handle and shut it again. Gripping my arm, he threw another hand across my cheek.

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Not the face!” I cried out.

But he didn’t listen—no longer able to think or care about who saw or knew. He’d lost his mind.

The rain pummeled the car, drowning out the sounds of his fists and curses as I dug my nails into the seat and the taste of blood filled my mouth.

Will’s truck flashed in my memory—the smell and the feel of him next to me.

But after a few moments, I couldn’t think of anything. I couldn’t remember anything.

No green eyes. No beautiful smile. No warm arms around me.

My glasses spilled to the floor and then…something wet dripped into my eye.

After a few moments, I couldn’t even remember his face.

• • •

I sat there, staring through the windshield and the wipers, barely mustering the motivation to breathe.

Martin sat back in his seat, lighting a cigarette as blood spilled off my eyebrow and the cuts stung in my mouth.

“It’s Devil’s Night tomorrow,” he said as we sat at the stoplight near the village on the way home. “The little devils fancy themselves dangerous, but no one is more of a threat than the person willing to do what everyone else won’t.”

I cast my eyes to the side, seeing his shotgun in its holder. Sobs lodged in my chest.

I could take it. It would all be over.

I could sleep at night.

“This is my town, Em.” He didn’t look at me, the blessed exhaustion calming his voice now. “It will be someday. This will all seem like a dream compared to the nightmare that awaits everyone who stands in my way.”

I could sleep forever.

I looked out at the rain, my vision blurry through the tears that wouldn’t stop.

I was tired. And sad.

And if he didn’t die, I would, and it had to be tonight. My insides screamed. I couldn’t take it anymore.

My fingers balled into fists, every muscle in my body tightening, and my legs were moving before I’d even made the decision. Pushing the door open, I leapt out in the rain, hearing him bellow my name and telling me to come back, but I just ran.

I was at the edge, and I didn’t want to stop.

Digging in my heels and splashing through the puddles, I ran as hard as I could, up the sidewalk and through the grass, back to the cathedral.

My hair coated my face, and I didn’t look behind me, because I knew he wouldn’t leave the car to chase me, and he might suspect I went into the church, but he wouldn’t be able to find me.

I dashed into the church, slowing my steps to not bring attention, and made my way through the nave to the stairs again. I escaped up to the gallery, behind the door, up the steps, and back inside The Carfax Room, locking the door behind me.

Safe.

Hidden.

I walked to the trunks by the windows, found the dress, and pulled it out.

Emmy Scott was tired and sad.

But Reverie Cross was going to Homecoming.

Will

Present

My groin ached, and I flipped over in bed, my cock tenting the sheet.

I reached my hand underneath and fisted it, slowly stroking the hard muscle.

Fuck.

How did that girl always do this to me? She had me about ready to break and go ask her for it instead. I knew she wouldn’t come to my room last night after I’d left her in the drawing room. I knew that.

I just hoped I was wrong.

God, I wanted her. I could chalk it up to being without a woman for so long, but no…it was Emory Sophia Scott and how good her smiles felt.

All the frowns were worth the trouble for just one smile.

Or so I used to think.

The morning light streamed through my small attic window, warming my chest as everything tingled, and my dick swelled more.

I groaned, closing my eyes and wetting my palm with my tongue, diving back down and pumping my cock faster and tighter.

From the moment I’d laid eyes on her, everything about her turned me on and there wasn’t a single way I didn’t dream about fucking her. It was an obsession from the start.

But why?

She was moody, intolerant, judgmental…and while I knew exactly where her distrust and hard heart came from, she refused to warm toward me after all this time. If she hadn’t by now, she wouldn’t.

Loving a guarded girl, I had realized, was a pyrrhic victory. The rare moments of happiness came at too great a cost.

But there she was, always in my dreams—beautiful and bare—letting me ride her and lose myself in her lips and scent.

I stroked again and again, my cock hard and fully erect, the images of her buried in my sheets—soft and sweet—filling my head as my cock dripped for her.

And I went with it. Fuck it.

I tried to forget her with others. I went with women who looked nothing like her, so I could get her out of my system, but at the end of the day, it only hurt me more.

I tightened my stomach, feeling myself coming, and I envisioned myself inside her, going hard and making her moan.

Because maybe if I could screw her, I could leave, and it would be like someone flipped a switch where she no longer mattered.

“Fuck me, baby,” I gritted out, tugging on my dick faster and faster. “Come on, spread your legs.”

In my head, there she was—plastered to the mattress under my weight and my nose buried in her hair as I drove into her. She kissed me and smiled and God, she wanted it, the soft skin of her tight stomach sticky with sweat as I moved on top of her.

I tensed, jerked, and threw off the sheet, spilling all over my hand, cum shooting out, and I swear I could feel her tight heat over my cock. I knew exactly what she felt like.

I gasped and exhaled, melting into the bed as the orgasm wracked through me, and I grunted, letting it course.

Fuck.

Finally, I opened my eyes.

A pyrrhic victory. And here I was, pretty sure that no cost was too great to just be able to hold her. It kind of scared me what I’d pay.

Rising from the bed, I grabbed a cloth and cleaned up, tossing it down the laundry chute before yanking a towel that was hung over the chair and wrapping it around my waist.