What happens when you come face to face with feelings you don't to want to admit? More times that not...you run. xoxo
MILES "I'll go see what's wrong with him," I said, grabbing my bag and tray. "See you after practice, Marcy. Later, KenKen." I felt Kenny’s eyes on me as I walked away, felt Marcus’s knowing smirk burning into the back of my head. But I didn’t turn back. I dumped my tray and stepped outside, gulping in the crisp, fresh air. I needed it. There were too many eyes in that cafeteria. Too many whispers. And then there was Dominic. Storming off like that. I searched for him, scanning the crowd for his broad shoulders, his black shirt. Nothing. So I headed toward the field. The hallway leading there was quiet, the hum of campus life fading behind me. And that’s when it hit me. Why am I chasing after him? It wasn’t like we were anything real. It wasn’t like I should even care if he was upset. Except… Except I did care. And I didn’t like that. I didn’t like the way the thought of him shutting me out made my stomach knot. Because I wasn’t supposed to feel th
*WARNING SEXUAL CONTENT * DOM She had no idea what she was asking for. Or maybe she did. Miles was playing a dangerous fucking game. She thought if she made this just about pleasure, she could keep herself safe. That if she played the game just right, she wouldn’t get burned. Too late. I leaned in, close enough that my lips brushed against hers, but I didn’t kiss her. Not yet. "Take what I want?" I whispered. My hands braced against the wall, caging her in. Daring her to run. She didn’t. Her chin lifted defiantly, though her breath hitched. I smirked. "I don’t think you could handle everything I want." Something flickered in her eyes. Hesitation. Maybe even fear. And for just a second, she faltered. Her fingers clutched at the hem of her shirt, gripping the fabric tight, like she needed to hold onto something. Like she wanted to cover herself. Fuck. I had pushed too hard. Regret punched through me, swift and sharp, but before I could say anything, she
MILES His confessions made my skin blaze. Something deep inside my chest was unlocking, that painful pinch that made me breathless trying to consume me. He talked like he thought about me all day. Like he could imagine nothing more than to be buried inside me. The earnest tone in his voice had fear clawing its way up my throat, but the sensations of his movements made my mind go blank as I came. "Mine." I would have frozen up if I wasn't coming so hard against his bulge. I almost thought I was imagining things. I didn’t even have time to be embarrassed that all it took to get me off was a little dry humping. But I had heard it, and it was all that occupied my mind. I guess he hadn’t realized what he said since he didn’t stop his movements until my climax was over. "Mine." The word circled my brain even as he gently put me on my feet, kissing along my neck in sweet, soft pecks, holding me tight. Even as he cupped my cheeks in his hands to kiss me softly on the lips. "Mine."
MILES I tried my best to avoid Dominic for the rest of the day. We usually didn’t run into each other for classes. He didn’t seem to mind it either, which was better for me. I couldn’t be bothered to glance at him as he picked me up from the library after practice, and he couldn’t be bothered to say a single word to me on the way home. It would have been a nice, quiet ride if not for Marcus’s need to ask too many damn questions. "The hell? You guys fighting already?" Marcus flicked a fry at me from the passenger seat. "It hasn’t even been that long since you finally got along." I said nothing. Just kept my eyes glued to the window. Dominic’s grip on the wheel tightened, but he didn’t speak either. Good. I needed space. I needed air. Because I couldn't stop hearing his words. "Just forget all those things I said. I was in the heat of the moment. It didn’t mean anything." I wanted to believe him. I needed to. But the memory of his touch, his voice, the way he looked at me—none
MILES Marcus came to get me for dinner. I wasn’t hungry—not in the slightest—but I knew Maverick would be expecting me. He made it a personal mission to ensure I ate. If he noticed the way my mother looked at me in disdain, he didn’t let on. "Come on, Miles. The fight couldn’t have been that bad." Marcus walked beside me down the stairs. The fight? No, it wasn’t a fight at all. A fight I could handle. Yelling, anger, slamming doors—I could deal with all of that. But this? This was different. It was quiet. Unspoken. This was him making it clear. It was me realizing I cared too much. "It wasn’t," I finally answered. "We simply made our... situations clear." Marcus made a noise low in his throat, something close to a scoff, but I could hear the undertone of frustration. "What a fucking idiot," he muttered under his breath. I didn’t ask who he meant. Then, softer—"Are you okay?" My first instinct was to say yes. That was always my answer. "I’m fine." Or maybe, "Yeah
DOM Something was happening right before my eyes, and I had no idea how to go about it. Marcus almost never said things without reason. Even a joke or his teasing always had relevance. He liked to control mindsets and steer them in the right direction... or sometimes the wrong. He was quite good at it. It didn't take me long to figure it out when we were younger, but when I did, I learned to read the room like he did. It was a skill I needed in order to succeed in law, so I adapted quickly. Sometimes, I'd let him steer me. Sometimes, I didn’t. But I knew this: Marcus always had the best intentions for good people. But the ones who crossed him? The ones who stepped on the weak? He made them pay. That made him dangerous. And right now, he was turning the wheel. Miles’s abuser. He knew. I knew he knew. I had suspected it back when he suddenly started coming over more, when he suddenly had more time to check in on Miles. But that comment in the cafeteria—the one abo
MILES "You guys coming to The Cliffs this weekend? There's supposed to be a wicked storm coming through. A buddy of mine said the view is superb for a bonfire on the north end." "Won't the waves get too crazy? The north end is too close." "That's the thing. For some scientific reason, the waves don't touch the north end. It never has. My buddy says it's Branshire's tradition to bonfire during a storm. The parties are known to be epic." "Small town folks sure are creative... but I'll take the bait. Pick me up at eight." The Cliffs bonfire. That’s all Branshire University had been talking about. It was the kind of tradition that had been around long before any of us were even born, passed down like a ritual no one dared to question. I couldn’t count how many times I heard someone say “Shit always happens at The Cliffs.” Some said it with excitement, others with something else—something that didn’t sit right in my gut. I didn’t believe in superstitions. But still. There was somet
MILES I felt like a different person. The moment Dominic got close to me, my heart went on a rampage, my body flushed with a mix of excitement and dread. I should have pushed him away. I should have made an excuse to leave, to put some distance between us before I did something reckless. Instead, I stayed. His scent—warm, masculine, familiar—was clouding my thoughts. His presence was suffocating in a way that I didn't want to escape. "Is. It. Her?" His deep voice vibrated through me, hitting every nerve like a plucked string. His body was so close that I could feel his heat radiating into mine, and I hated that it soothed me. I didn’t speak. I couldn’t. But my nod was answer enough. His hands flexed at his sides, the tension rolling off him in waves. The golden flames in his eyes darkened into something unreadable—something I should be afraid of. "That explains a lot." His voice was low, sharp. I searched his face, trying to gauge his emotions, but I couldn’t tell if he was
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