War has a dress code, and tonight I’m fully committed to the uniform.

Lucas’s house pulses with bass-heavy music that vibrates through the hardwood floor and into my bones. Bodies pack every corner, moving together in the dim light like a single organism breathing in rhythm.

I chose my armor carefully—tight jeans that sit low on my hips, a top cut deep enough to make a statement. More makeup than I’ve worn in months, eyes lined dark and lips painted the color of bad decisions.

Lucas’s hand settles on my waist the moment we step through the door, possessive and warm through the thin fabric.

“You look incredible tonight.” His mouth brushes my ear over the music. “Every guy here is going to hate me.”

“That was the general idea.” I smile up at him, and it almost reaches my eyes.

Since my text yesterday, he’s been attentive again, texting constantly, making plans, showing up exactly when he said he would. Almost too attentive, like he’s compensating for something.

If Caleb hadn’t come looking for me that night.

Rachel’s voice slithers through my memory, and I have to force my body not to flinch away from Lucas’s touch.

His fingers trace small circles on my hip, gentle and patient, and I search desperately for any trace of the monster she described.

I find nothing but warmth and easy confidence and a smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes.

Maybe she was wrong about everything that happened back then. Maybe time has transformed him into someone better.

Maybe I’m just telling myself pretty lies because the alternative is too terrifying to examine closely.

I spot Caleb within three minutes of arriving at the party.

He’s stationed in the corner like a sentinel, Jade pressed against his side with proprietary confidence. She laughs at something, head thrown back, throat exposed.

He’s not laughing at all.

His eyes find mine across the crowded room, and the connection hits like lightning through my nervous system.

Hot and cold simultaneously, my blood can’t decide which temperature to commit to fully.

“Want to dance?” Lucas tugs me toward the makeshift dance floor before I can respond to his question.

I let him pull me into the crowd, let his hands settle on my hips as we move together.

But my gaze keeps drifting toward that corner, toward blue eyes that haven’t looked away once.

Caleb pulls Jade closer, whispers something against her ear that makes her giggle with delight.

I laugh louder at whatever joke Lucas just told, the sound brittle and bright in my own ears.

His hand slides down Jade’s back, fingers splaying across the curve of her spine possessively.

I wind my arms around Lucas’s neck, pressing closer until our bodies align from chest to hip.

Every touch becomes a weapon, every smile a carefully aimed arrow shot across the battlefield between us.

We’re using other people as ammunition, and the realization should disgust me more than it does.

Lucas spins me, and when I come back around, Caleb is watching with an expression that could burn cities.

Mia materializes beside me like a conscience I didn’t ask for but desperately need right now.

“Bathroom break.” She grabs my arm and pulls me away from Lucas with the determination of a woman on a mission. “Girl emergency, you understand.”

Lucas waves us off with an easy smile that doesn’t quite reach his calculating eyes.

He leans close, breath hot against my ear, and whispers: “Nice performance tonight. He buying it?”

My heart slams against my ribs so hard I’m certain he can feel it. Before I can form a response, Lucas is there, arm snaking around my waist with sudden force.

“Time to go, beautiful.” He pulls me away from Caleb, and his grip is just a little too tight on my arm. “I want to introduce you to some people.”

I stumble slightly at the abrupt movement, caught off balance by his urgency.

Looking back over my shoulder, I find Caleb watching Lucas’s hand where it digs into my flesh. His expression has gone very, very still—the kind of stillness that precedes earthquakes.

The room is suddenly too hot, sweat gathering at my temples and the small of my back. Lucas’s grip has relaxed now, but I can still feel the phantom pressure like a brand on my skin.

Across the room, Jade is tugging Caleb toward the dance floor with playful insistence.

He’s not following her lead at all.

He’s watching me like he’s waiting for a signal, like he’s preparing for something neither of us can name. The air crackles with inevitability, electric and dangerous and impossible to ignore.

I think about Rachel’s story, about a girl cornered in a bedroom at a party just like this one.

I think about Lucas’s fingers digging into my arm moments ago, casual and possessive and wrong.

I think about Caleb’s face when he saw it happen, the violence coiling beneath his stillness.

This night is about to go very wrong, and I’m not sure anymore who the real danger is.