WARNING: VIOLENCE AND ABUSE MILES I stared at Dom's number, now saved in my phone, then at Maverick's. I’d never had so many numbers saved before. My mother had given me this old flip phone years ago, stating that I needed it only when she called. She had started to get annoyed when she'd kick me out for an entire day and had no way to summon me back for her bidding. "I call, you come. That's it," she'd said. So for a while, hers was the only contact. Then it was Kenzie. When I started my job, the diner's number was added. Now, two more people. I couldn’t help but feel a little happy. Maverick had insisted we all exchange numbers after dinner. Apparently, he hadn’t liked the fact that I walked home, and I could see him getting close to chewing Dom’s ass out for it. I could have asked around for Dom at the university, but I figured he wouldn’t have wanted that. So, I couldn’t have let him take all the blame when I was the one who chose to walk home. Despite how down I felt this
MILES I was already in the kitchen by 3 a.m., waiting. Waiting for the day to start. Waiting for Dominic. Waiting to feel something. The coffee in my hands should have been a comfort, but it was just there. No warmth. No taste. Just another thing I was holding onto because it was expected. Last night had been... fucked. I hadn’t slept. My body ached with the deep, burning throb of fresh wounds, but my mind was worse. My mother had told me to steer clear of Maverick, yet she kept me locked in his house. The contradiction clawed at my brain. What the fuck did she want from me? Rage had bubbled up inside me, raw and violent, but it only made me angrier because what the fuck could I do with it? Nothing. I could do nothing. By the time Dominic walked in, I had already drained my cup, but it did nothing to clear my head. He was wearing gray sweatpants slung low on his hips and a plain black tee, his dark hair still tousled from sleep. Normally, I would have savored the sight, let my m
MILES I waited in the library for Dom to finish practice, keeping myself occupied with assignments and the occasional book. The pain from my back was still there, but the bandages helped. At least I wasn’t wincing with every movement like this morning. The heat outside was brutal, making me stick to the shadows like some lurking vampire. I wasn’t ready to deal with Dom yet, not after this morning, so I avoided him all day. That didn’t stop him from texting me. Dom: Where are you? Miles: Why? Dom: I want to check your back again. I stared at the message, biting my lip. My face heated at the memory of his careful hands wrapping me up, his touch so unlike the usual annoyance he directed my way. Miles: I'm fine. Dom: Miles… Miles: See you after practice. I silenced my phone to ignore the constant buzzing. He was persistent, but I wasn’t in the mood to deal with his guilt or whatever this was. Classes had been exhausting. I spent most of the day trying to avoid bumping into peop
MILES "Do we eat free or something?" I asked, stepping into the retro diner Marcus brought us to. It was called The Dine and Dash, and I was in love with it instantly. The walls were lined with colorful, vintage décor, the cozy booths were plush with upholstery, and the checkered floor gleamed under the lights. A jukebox sat in the corner, playing an old tune, and even the waitress was in a poodle skirt. This place had character. I scooted into a booth, Marcus sliding in beside Dom across from me. My eyes scanned every inch of the diner, taking in the warmth of it. "Do you like it that much?" Marcus asked, amusement lacing his tone. I nodded, unable to wipe the grin from my face. Dom cleared his throat, and if I didn't know better, I'd say his ears turned red. “What’ll it be, darlin’?” The waitress asked, clicking her pen against the pad. She had bold red lips, black hair in a high ponytail, and a southern drawl that felt completely at home here. “We’ll have the dou
DOM Why didn't she want to tell me who did it? I understood not wanting to talk about it, but I needed to hold the person responsible. Personally. Seeing her back this morning did something to me. A dangerous rage I hadn’t known since the day my mother died resurfaced, boiling beneath my skin like magma, and I wanted fucking blood. I could do it too. I could make whoever was responsible pay dearly and get away with it. I studied law—I knew full well what I was capable of. But she wouldn't tell me. I couldn't exactly blame her. And yet, the thought of her suffering in silence killed me. Did I really even care? Fuck. I did. I did fucking care. I didn’t want to, but I guess I just couldn't help my damn self now, could I? I didn’t even deserve to care. Every petty thing I did to her, every cold remark, every fucking scowl—I was just another weight on her shoulders, another reason to suffer. Had something like this been on her plate the whole time? And there I was, just adding to i
DOM "Did you guys fuck?" Marcus didn't even hesitate. Mouth full of food, burger in one hand, like he was just making casual conversation about the damn weather. Miles nearly choked on her milkshake. "Excuse me?" "When we returned to the table, you two were gone forever. Felt like an appropriate question," he said, chewing obnoxiously. "Oh, come on, I can't have relations with my big brother," Miles said, voice dripping in sarcasm as she waved her hand dismissively. I arched a brow. Cute. She thought she was funny. "Oh, I know you two have fucked before," Marcus added, wiping his mouth with a napkin like he just exposed some government secret. Miles’ entire face whipped toward me so fast I thought she might snap her own neck. "What the fuck, Dom?" I just shrugged, utterly unapologetic. "He's my best friend. What did you expect?" Her mouth opened in an adorable little gape, and before she could launch a full verbal assault, I took the opportunity to shove a fry in her mouth.
MILES The week passed quickly. Too quickly. Between classes, the library, and my careful avoidance of certain people, I hardly spent any time at the manor. Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays were stacked with coursework, and when I wasn't in class, I made myself scarce. Wednesday and Friday were my "off" days, but Dominic still had morning and evening practice. The only day he was free was Sunday, and somehow, he insisted I spend it with him. Dom had become something of a caretaker. An excellent one. Too excellent. He rebandaged my back at every opportunity, his hands frustratingly gentle. I’d feel his fingers graze the nape of my neck, the tips skating over my skin before he’d pull away and pretend like it never happened. We didn’t talk much during those moments. Maybe he was biting his tongue, waiting for me to explain. I never did. And I never asked him to kiss me again. Not because I didn’t want to, but because he always left before I could. As soon as he finished tending to me
MILES I was in my corner chair, reading when a knock sounded at my door. I had left it open, trying to keep an eye out for my fucking demon of a mother. Dominic stood, leaning on my door frame with his arms crossed. I ignored the way his chest and arms bulged. "Can I come in?" I nodded, putting my bookmark in place and setting my book down on my side table. "What's up?" I questioned, noticing he closed the door, then locked it. I kept a straight face as he approached me. "Let me check your back," he requested, motioning towards the bathroom. I chewed on my lip, thinking of how to decline. "I think we should wait until later, when our parents are out, or in bed." Dominic gave me a small smile. "They went out for lunch, so now's the perfect time. Gotta stay diligent, Miles," he countered, reaching out to grab my hand. Damn it. I really liked the way he said my name and how deep his voice was. And he looked delicious today in those dark jeans and plain black shirt. Did
DOM I felt like a fucking puppy. Following Miles around like gum on her ass. If she went to her room, I hung out in the hall. If she went to the library, that’s where you’d find me. And now? Now, I was leaning against the wall outside her bedroom door at four in the damn morning on a Monday. Fucking ridiculous. She had insisted on going back to school. Much to my—and my father’s—dismay. “Miles,” I’d said, already knowing I was wasting my breath, “you don’t need to—” “I’ve rested long enough, Dominic.” I hadn’t even argued. Not really. Because fuck, it felt good to hear her say my name. She was here. She was breathing. She could have whatever she wanted. As long as she wanted. Even if it meant standing here, waiting for her stubborn ass to open the door— The lock clicked, and Miles stepped out, limping. I let her get three steps before I reached behind me and revealed the wheelchair. She stopped. Looked at it. Then at me. Yeah, she was pissed. “Yeah,
MILESThe first thing I noticed was how empty my arm felt.For weeks, the IV had been a part of me, a tether keeping me here. But now, as Nurse Hilda carefully slid it from my skin, I was free."You’re all set, sugar," she said, her warm hands smoothing over my arm, gentle in a way that made something tighten in my chest.I had gotten used to her voice—her presence. Hilda was the only reason my mother didn’t have more time alone with me. Every visit, every lingering moment where Candice might have tried to poke and prod at my weakness, Hilda would swoop in, checking vitals, fluffing pillows, telling long-winded stories about her family.And I had let her.Because I knew what she was doing.And I liked her for it.She smiled as she set aside the IV. "I sure will miss those gorgeous eyes of yours, sweetheart. You remind me of my brother, you know. He’s got dark hair too."I blinked.A strange pull tightened in my gut, something like a whisper of familiarity. "Oh?"Hilda’s grin was all s
MILESDid this happen to all survivors?Did they wake up feeling like a new person? Like they’d been reborn?I thought maybe I’d be disappointed.The surprise?I wasn’t disappointed at all.I was relieved.Opening my eyes, seeing everyone… it made me so relieved.At first, I didn’t know why. But then my mother hugged me.Tears streamed down her face like she was glad I had made it. Like she wouldn’t have known what to do without me.And maybe that much was true.But I wasn’t going to be her punching bag anymore. I wanted to be something else to her. Something much closer to her heart than she had ever allowed me to be.I was going to be her pain.I was going to be her suffering.But most of all…I was going to be her weakness.---"You fucking bitch!"Kenzie’s voice snapped through the air like a gunshot.She took a shuddering breath, setting down the cup of coffee that I guessed had been for me before she crossed the room, murder in her eyes."I want to fucking hate you right now," s
*WARNING METAPHORICAL DEATH OF SELF* VIOLENCE*MILESI was weightless.Calm.Still.And I think I loved it.I floated on something endless, something vast. No light, no dark. Just quiet. I was neither here nor there. No pain, no burden, no fear.I just... existed.And that was all I had ever wanted—to simply be.But the thought alone woke something inside me, something long tired of staying quiet.A sharp tug behind my navel knocked the breath from my lungs.I gasped—only to find I had no lungs, no air to take in, no body to feel the pull of gravity.Then—Pain.The sensation of falling hit me all at once, a rush of sound and wind slamming into me before I landed on my back in a green field. The impact sent a dull ache through my bones, a feeling so jarring after that endless nothingness that I barely registered the voice—"Fucking finally."I jolted upright.And I saw—Me.But not me.She was everything I wasn’t. Everything I had never been.Her long black hair cascaded down her back
*WARNING MENTION OF SUICIDE* DOM "Oh my god... someone just jumped!" No. It wasn’t her. It couldn’t be her. A voice somewhere—distant, muffled—"A suicide?" I didn’t know who said it, but I didn’t fucking care. I was already moving. Running. Running toward her. Running to jump in after her. "Dom!" Hands grabbed me, pulling me back, and I nearly ripped them to shreds. Couldn’t they see? Couldn’t they fucking see? Miles was in the water. She was drowning. And I wasn’t there. I fought. I fought like hell. Marcus. I could hear his voice—his shouting—but it wasn’t reaching me. Because nothing was. Nothing except the weight in my chest. Crushing my ribs. Suffocating me. My legs shook and my mind spun. And for the first time in my life— I was fucking terrified. What if she didn’t make it out? What if this was it? What if I had to watch the ocean devour her? What if I never saw her again? What if I lost her? Fuck. I--I couldn't lose her. Marcus had to pin m
*WARNING! READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED* *SUICIDE ATTEMPT/TALK OF SUICIDE* MILES "You should just fucking die already. No one wants you. Oh and, don't call him again." I didn’t even hang up. I just dropped the phone and took step after step forward. It landed with a soft thud behind me, but I didn’t turn back. Didn’t reach for it. It didn’t matter anymore. My body was still moving, still breathing, still aching. But my mind? That had already given up. I couldn't tell the difference between pain and nothingness anymore—maybe they were the same. Maybe I was just too tired to care. My foot dragged against the gravel on the road to the Cliffs. I was supposed to meet the guys at the party to watch the ocean storm and hit the highest cliffside. I was supposed to be having a good time and finally let myself...be. But of course, not if my mother had anything to do with it. Tanya's words hit home. "You should just fucking die already." The words coiled around my throat, venomous, unsha
*WARNING: SUICIDE ATTEMPT**READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED* DOM Something was wrong. I had been feeling it all night. The way my phone burned in my pocket. The way my gut twisted every time I checked my screen and saw nothing. No messages. No calls. No Miles. I had tried. Three times. Three fucking times, and she hadn’t answered. Marcus was already knee-deep in some girl’s attention, laughing, drinking, having a good time. But even he noticed. "Dude," he called over, watching me check my phone again. "She probably just fell asleep or some shit." I forced a half-smirk, pocketing my phone before I squeezed the back of my neck. "Yeah. Maybe." I didn’t believe it. Not even Marcus believed it because the bastard was dead wrong if he thought I hadn't caught him checking his phone as well. I knew Miles. She didn’t just disappear. Not like this. Not without a fucking reason. "Dom." The voice was too close, too familiar, and I already knew who it was before I turned. Tanya. Fucki
*WARNING VIOLENCE AND ABUSE * MILES My mother had been watching me all morning. Not in the usual way. Not with irritation. Not with thinly veiled disgust like she always did when I so much as existed in her space. No, this was different. She was calculating. I could feel it in the way she lingered in doorways, in the way her eyes flicked toward me at breakfast, in the way she adjusted her rings, twisting them around her fingers like she was thinking. Plotting. I had half a mind to ask her what the hell she was up to, but instead, I let her wait. Let her decide how she was going to approach me. And then when she finally did? I nearly laughed. "Miles, come with me." It was demand but it lacked her usual bite. Maverick had left early this morning on a business trip so it was a surprise she wanted to be near me at all. I arched a brow, barely glancing up from my book. "Excuse me?" She sighed as if I were the most difficult person in the world, then crossed her arms,
DOM I wasn’t getting enough of her. That was the problem. Miles had been right there—in the house, in the hallways, at the dinner table—but it wasn’t enough. Not anymore. She had been keeping her distance, not too much, not enough to be obvious, but just enough to make me ache. To make me want more. And I couldn’t have more. Not like I wanted. Not with my father watching. Maverick had been more observant lately. Not just with me, but with everyone. I noticed it at dinner. The way his eyes tracked conversations, the way his fork hovered mid-air as he listened. The way he watched Miles. She had been more talkative. Not forced, not in the way that would make anyone suspicious, but in a way that felt natural. Like she had finally settled into her place at this table. And my father? He had noticed. Not in a bad way. If anything, he seemed pleased. It made sense—he liked her, actually liked her. She was sharp. Smart. She could hold a conversation and keep up with him, somethin