Mag-log inThen, through the warped blur of water, a strong arms wrapped around my middle, and dragged me upward. My head broke the surface with a violent gasp that tore through my chest.
I coughed, choking up water as he hauled me toward the edge. “Whoa! Damn… she really went under!” “I didn’t think she’d panic that hard—” “Is she okay?” Their voices came in fragments, floating above me as he propped me up on the pool ledge. My throat burned and my hands were shaking so hard I couldn’t even grip the tile at first. And then… Laughter. Actual fucking laughter. I turned, water streaming down my face, vision blurring with tears and chlorine. He was laughing. They all were. “Oh my God,” one of the girls giggled, covering her mouth like she was trying to hide it but failing miserably. “You really freaked out.” “She looked like someone threw a cat in the pool,” one of his guy friends added, sending another wave of laughter through the group. Ha. What a bunch of lunatic’s. They were insane. They had to be. I stared at him—my boyfriend—waiting for him to look horrified, apologetic, SOMETHING. But he was still grinning with them like a fool, like the whole thing was nothing more than a hilarious accident. “Are you fucking crazy?” I yelled, my voice breaking from inhaling water. “What is wrong with you?! I told you—I told you not to do that!” The smile slid off his face, replaced by surprise… then irritation. “Oh, come on,” he said, water dripping off his chin. “It was supposed to be fun. You’re overreacting.” “Overreacting?” I choked out, clutching my chest as another cough racked through me. “I almost drowned!” “You weren’t going to drown,” he scoffed. “I was right next to you. Calm down.” “Yeah, Thea,” one of the girls chimed in, flipping her wet hair over her shoulder. “It was just a joke.” “Take it easy,” another guy added, raising his drink. “He didn’t mean anything by it.” “Seriously,” the girl from earlier said, eyebrows raised in disbelief, “you’re ruining the mood.” Ruining the mood. Ruing the goddamn mood??! My mouth hung open as I stared at them. At him. At all the faces staring back at me like I was the problem. Like my fear was an inconvenience. Like my panic attack was bad fucking manners. “I told you I was scared,” I whispered, voice trembling from something that wasn’t the cold anymore. “I begged you to stop.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “You always make everything such a big deal.” Was he actually listening to himself right now? I shook my head and stood up. I won’t stand another second of their dismissive eyes, their judgment, and disgusting laughter. With shaky legs, soaked clothes clinging to my body, and hair dripping down my back, I started to walk away. “Thea… wait,” he called out behind me. But I didn’t. I didn’t look back and I sure as hell didn’t slow down. Someone else called after me too—maybe one of the girls, maybe one of the guys. “THEA!” But their voices only made my throat tighten even harder. I headed toward the house, my wet sandals slapping loudly against the pavement, water trailing behind me like a path of humiliation leading straight through the backyard doors. The coolness of the house hit my skin instantly, sending chills through me. I kept walking, past the kitchen, past the living room, heading straight for the hallway that led to the bedrooms. I just needed a moment to fucking breath. A place to drown quietly in my own embarrassment without an audience. But as soon as I stepped into the hallway, my soaked clothes dripped water on the tile… And my foot slid. It happened so fast I didn’t even have time to brace myself. My leg shot forward and the floor rushed up to meet me. The impact knocked the wind out of me, pain shooting through my elbow and hip as I smacked against the cold ceramic tile. I lay there. Stilled, as everything came rushing in. The first sob that came tore out of me so violently it surprised even me. Then another. And another. Soon I was shaking, curled on the cold tile floor with water pooling under me, mixing with tears as everything scattered inside me. I pressed my forehead against my arm and let myself cry because there was nothing left in me to hold it back. I cried for the fear I felt underwater. I cried for the way he laughed. I cried for how small I felt, how foolish, how invisible. I cried because the one person who was supposed to protect me had shoved me right into the thing I feared most. And I cried because, deep down, I knew something in our relationship had shifted today. Maybe forever. I didn’t know how long I lay there on the floor, trembling, my hair clinging to my cheeks, wondering how pathetic I must look—and how nothing could possibly make me feel any more pathetic than I already did. Until I heard the front door creak open. My head shot up instinctively. And I froze immediately. Standing in the entryway, framed by the afternoon sunlight spilling in behind him, was Mr. Gage… Noah’s father. Still in his suit from work. One hand holding a sleek leather suitcase while the other was tucked into his pocket. My heart dropped. “Oh my fucking God,” I whispered to myself before I could stop it.My cheeks were burning so hot I was sure they could light the hallway on their own, and every time someone gasped or snickered or—God forbid—actually pulled out their phone to record, I pressed myself tighter against him, trying to disappear into the solid wall of his chest. The automatic doors hissed open ahead of us and the cold January air slapped me in the face like a wake-up call. Snow was still falling in lazy, fat flakes that caught in my hair and melted instantly against my flushed skin. The parking lot lights turned everything orange and stark, and he strode straight toward the black SUV waiting at the curb.The driver stood by the rear passenger door, expression professionally blank even though I could see the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth when he saw me draped over Gage’s shoulder. He proceeded to open the door without a word.Gage didn’t set me down immediately.He ducked slightly, maneuvering us both into the backseat with the same easy strength he’d used to c
We stayed like that for a long moment—his hand on my face, my cheek pressed to his palm, breathing each other’s air in the narrow space between us. His thumb kept moving and I let myself lean into it harder, closing my eyes for just a second because looking at him hurt too much and not looking at him hurt worse. Eventually his thumb stilled and his hand slid down to cup the side of my neck, thumb resting against my pulse point. “What happened?” he asked quietly, voice gentle. I opened my eyes, met his gaze, and felt the familiar twist of irritation flare up again. “You should stop acting like someone hasn’t already filled you in,” I said. “Mrs. Harlan’s nurse probably talked to you. The doctor probably talked to you. Even the security. You’ve probably got a full report typed up somewhere with bullet points and timestamps. So don’t pretend you don’t know.” He didn’t speak nor pull away for some moments and just kept his hand on my neck, thumb still resting over my pulse, feeling
THEA -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- My cheek was pressed against the thin hospital pillow that smelled faintly of bleach and cheap laundry detergent, and for a second I couldn’t remember where I was. Then the steady beep-beep-beep of the heart monitor pulled me back, followed by the hiss of oxygen through the nasal cannula and the low murmur of nurses in the hallway outside. Mrs. Harlan’s. I sat up too fast, head swimming, neck stiff from sleeping half-slumped in the ugly plastic chair beside her bed for who-knows-how-many hours. With my mouth tasting like old coffee, I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands, blinking until the room came into focus: pale blue walls, a single window with the blinds half-closed against the afternoon light, the IV stand dripping clear fluid into the back of her hand, the monitor showing numbers that had finally stabilized into something that looked almost normal. Mrs. Harlan was awake. Been awake since yesterday. I swallowed hard, and managed a small, shaky
Silence choked off whatever bullshit he was about to spit next. I just kept walking. Every step sent fresh spikes through my cracked ribs, my fucked-up shoulder, and the goddamn staples holding my scalp together. When I finally hit the bedroom door, I rammed it open with my good shoulder and staggered inside. Then I kicked the fucker shut hard enough that the latch snapped like a promise. The room was dim, curtains still drawn tight. I didn’t bother with the light. No way in hell did I want to catch my reflection in that mirror across from the bed—didn’t want to see the walking disaster of bandages, purple bruises, and dead-eyed exhaustion staring back. So I limped straight to the nightstand. My good hand shook like a junkie’s as I fumbled the drawer open. Fingers finally closed around the orange bottle of oxycodone. Label worn to shit, corners peeling, but the pills inside still rattled like loose change. I shook two into my palm… paused… then shook out a third. Fuck it. I neede
Lex exhaled through his nose. “Wow.”One word. That was all he managed at first.While Ellis on the other hand just blinked.Then he rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting between me and Lex like he was waiting for one of us to say it was a joke. When neither of us did, he dropped his head and sighed, “Bro… I know I say all sorts of things about women but the little I know of Thea, she doesn’t seem like the type who would just… leave a relationship like that and then go fucking your dad to get back at you? That’s not her.”I couldn’t help but laugh.“So you think I’m lying?”“I never sai…”“And what do you even think you know about her, Ellis?” I cut him off. Silence.I took another drag then crushed the roach into the ashtray until it was pulp.“I’m taking her back,” I said quietly.Lex’s head snapped up.“I’m not letting him take her from me.”He exhaled slowly. “Noah…”“I’m not asking for permission,” I cut in. “I’m telling you because she’s mine. She’s always been mine. He d
NOAH ❁✿❀ The smoke curled thick and lazy from the joint between my fingers, filling my living room with that heavy, skunky haze that always made everything feel a little slower, and a little less sharp. Lex had brought the good shit—some sativa-leaning strain he swore was “clean as fuck, and just vibes”—and right now the vibes were the only thing keeping me from putting my fist through the goddamn wall. I took another long drag, held it until my lungs burned, then exhaled slowly through my nose. The cherry glowed bright in the dark room, casting dull blinking light across the coffee table that littered with empty beer bottles, an ashtray overflowing with butts, and the half-eaten pizza box someone had ordered at three in the morning. Lex was sprawled on the sectional with his legs kicked up on the ottoman, scrolling through his phone like nothing had happened while Ellis sat cross-legged on the floor, back against the couch, picking at the label on his beer bottle. They’d sh







