"Maybe but I don’t care," I shoot back.
He grabs my arm. Not really hard but not gentle either. Just enough to make his point.
"Don’t say that," he says, teeth clenched. "Don’t ever say that."
I yank my arm free. "You don’t own me. You don’t get t "save me" from things I choose."
"You weren’t thinking right," he says.
"I was thinking clearer than I have in years," I scream. "For once I wasn’t scared."
His eyes flick over my face, searching, like he’s trying to understand something.
"You think killing him would’ve fixed it," he says quietly.
"I think it would’ve maybe stopped him from doing it to someone else," I fire back.
The car continues moving through the city, the silence now thick and brutal.
I turn away again, folding into myself, arms wrapped tight like I can hold myself together through sheer force.
My voice comes out quieter this time
"You took that from me."
Neither of us speaks after that.
When we reach home, I get out of the car before he can think of opening it for me. I’m not in the mood for that shit.
I slam the door hard enough that the sound rings through my bones. I don’t look back. If I do, I’ll either scream or collapse, and I refuse to give him either.
When I get into the house my footsteps echo as I head for the stairs, each step heavier than the last. With my chest feeling tight
I make it halfway up before a hand clamps around my wrist.
I’m yanked back so fast my shoulder jolts. My back hits the banister, pain flaring sharp and sudden.
"What the hell was that back there?" Zane snaps.
I don’t answer, I don’t even look at him. My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears.
"Elaine." His grip tightens. "Why were you going to kill him?"
I laugh but it comes out wrong. "Let go of me."
"Answer me."
"It’s none of your fuckign business," I say, my voice shaking despite myself.
For a split second, there’s silence.
Then his hand slides up and his fingers close around my throat.
Not enough to crush but enough to make my breath hitch, panic flashing hot and instant.
"I won’t ask again, little spitfire" he says, low and dangerous. "Why."
The world narrows and vision blurs at the edges. Not from lack of air, but from memory. From the way my body remembers this exact position, this exact helplessness.
Tears spill before I can stop them.
"Let go, please." I choke.
He doesn’t.
And Something inside me breaks.
"Because he raped me," I say.
"Elaine," Zane says, and his voice is different now. "I’m sorry I didn’t know.... I’m sorry."
I laugh again, bitter and broken. "Of course you didn’t. I never told anyone asides my family."
He crouches in front of me, careful, like I might shatter if he moves too fast.
"Is that why......" he starts, then stops. Swallowing. "Is that why you ran when I grabbed you the other night?"
My breath catches.
I nod.
"Yes," I say. "That’s why."
I squeeze my eyes shut. "When you bent me like that, I wasn’t there anymore. I was back there, I could hear them again, I could feel their hands on me."
My hands tremble as I press them flat against my thighs, grounding myself in the present.
"I know you didn’t mean it," I add quickly, because some stupid part of me still feels the need to protect him. "I know you weren’t trying to hurt me."
Zane’s jaw tightens. His hands clench into fists at his sides.
"I should’ve known," he mutters. "I should’ve stopped."
"It’s not your fault," I say, even though my chest aches. "But it’s why I couldn’t stay. Why I panicked."
He exhales slowly, dragging a hand down his face.
"I didn’t just want revenge," I whisper. "I wanted closure, I wanted him to feel afraid of me too."
Silence stretches between us.
"I won’t touch you like that again," Zane says finally. "Not without your consent and when you’re ready."

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