"I won’t," I say lightly.
I run my hands down his chest but my hand shakes so much that I pull it back quickly before he can notice.
Then I turn and strut into the bathroom.
The door shuts behind me, and the second it does, my smile drops.
My hands brace against the sink as I lean forward, breathing through my nose slowly. My reflection staring back at me.
I turn on the tap, splash cold water onto my wrists, my neck, grounding myself in the shock of it. I stare at the drain until the spinning in my head eases.
You’re here. You’re in control. One step at a time.
I straighten, wipe my hands on my clothes, and lift my head.
My hands slide down to my thigh, fingers finding the small pouch strapped there beneath the fabric. I hesitate for a while, my pulse stuttering loud in my ears. This wasn’t how I imagined today going.
I open the pouch.
The weight inside feelih familiar, in a a second, doubt creeps in, an ugly voice asking me what the hell I think I’m doing. Asking me if this is really who I want to be in the end. Asking me if this is worth it.
But my chest tightens.
That night crashing back into me without warning. The pressure on me, the helplessness. The way my body stopped feeling like mine after.
My jaw clenches.
I don’t have the luxury of pretending this is just a bad memory. I don’t have years to heal, hell I don’t even have time.
If this is how my story ends, then at least it ends on my terms.
Prison walls feel small compared to what already lives in my head.
My decision settles.
I close the pouch, fix my expression in the mirror until nothing shows on my face except control, then tuck it back where it was, hidden and secure for only when I need it.
I straighten my clothes, lift my chin, and unlock the door.
The second I step out, I slam straight into a solid chest.
I gasp, stumbling back half a step.
Zane is right there in my face looking furious as hell.
His eyes rake over me in one sweep, jaw tight and anger rolling off him in waves.
"What the fuck are you doing here!?" he snaps.
My heart slams so hard it hurts.
"I... I uhmmmm" My mouth opens, then shuts again. I steady myself, forcing my spine straight. "What does it look like?"
His hand comes up, stopping just short of grabbing me, like he thinks better of it at the last second. His eyes burn whilescanning my face
"This place," he says, his voice rising, "this fucking place?!! are you out of your freaking mind?"
The sudden force jolts me out of the fog I’ve been holding myself together with. My feet stumble as he pulls me, my shoulder slamming lightly into the wall.
"No," I bark, yanking back with everything I have.
I twist, ripping my hand from his grip. My skin burns where he touched me. "Get your hands off me!."
I scan the room fast, panic spiking when I don’t see him. The man. The one I followed in here. The one I needed to off this night.
"Where is he?" I demand, my voice sharp, frantic. "Where did he go?"
"Where did who go?."
"The man I came in here with Zane."
Zane turns back to me so fast I almost collide with him.
His face is inches from mine, his eyes are dark, furious and wild in a way I haven’t seen before
"You don’t ask about another man around me," he growls. "You don’t even mention him. Not now. Not ever. Especially one you came in here to fuck!." He says then adds after a bit.
"You know if you were so fucking horny you would have come to me, if you couldn’t keep that greedy pussy in check you would have asked me to. Instead of coming to MY fucking club!!!! To get some loser to fuck you."
My hands itch at my sides to slap the freaking shit out of him but I refrain, instead I shove at his chest. "I don’t care about anything you have to say."
His jaw tightens. "You brought a man into a room t...."
"Shut up!!!! Shut the fuck up" I scream. My voice cracking, loud enough that it echoes. "You ruined it, you fucking ruined it!."

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