LOGINAVA The two weeks back in Los Angeles were a slow-motion car crash of both anticipation and doubt. Every time my phone beeped with a notification, my heart would try to punch its way out of my ribs, only for me to find a goddamn promotional email from my bank or a text from the manager at the club. Bradley was silent. No "how are you doing?" No "I can’t stop thinking about you." Nothing. He was playing me, and the worst part was that I knew it. He was a Marine; of course he knew exactly how to starve an enemy out until they were willing to surrender just for a drop of water. By day ten, I was pacing my small apartment, checking my calendar app every hour. By day thirteen, I was convinced the whole thing had been a fever dream brought on by the trauma of being back home. Then, Saturday came and exactly 6:00 PM on the dot my phone beeped. Unknown Number: Room 412, The Garland. I didn't even reply. I just dropped my phone and ran to the closet. I chose a red lace dress that
AVA He was sitting on the leather sofa, a phone pressed to his ear. He looked like the exact picture of a professional Marine, his posture straight, his expression impossibly neutral. But the second his eyes landed on me, he ended the call abruptly. He didn't even say goodbye to whoever was on the other end. He stood up, his presence filling the room. "You’re ready to go?" "Yeah," I said, gripping the handle of my suitcase so hard the blood rushed from my knuckle. "Just going to call a ride and head to the subway station." "Don't bother," he said, stepping toward me. "I'll drop you off." "No, Brad, really. You don't have to do that,” I said in a rush. “Linda probably wants you to help with something, and I've already booked the ride," I lied, fumbling with my phone. Bradley reached out, his large hand gently but firmly covering mine, pushing the phone down. He was close enough now that I could see the golden flecks in his hazel eyes. The air between us felt like a live wire. I
AVA The morning light was like an unwanted intruder. It filtered through the thin curtains of my childhood bedroom, sharp and unforgiving as though it was trying to chastise me. I tried to roll over, but my body immediately reminded me of everything that had happened in that dark, quiet gazebo last night. My inner thighs were sore with a dull, familiar ache that thrummed between my legs, and my back felt I’d sprained a muscle or two there. I was sore in all the right places, and every bit of that soreness was like a danger sign pointing toward my brother-in-law. I stayed under the covers for a long time, staring at the ceiling. I felt like a different person than the girl who had walked into this house forty-eight hours ago. I was no longer just the black sheep who everyone thought was living a dirty life as a stripper sister. I was now far worse. I had taken something that belonged to Linda—something she had fought to keep through chemo and radiation—and I had done it without a
AVA Just as I was about to speak, My Aunt Janice practically teleported into the garden, her voice shrill as she told us Linda was about to give a toast, and that we were needed inside. The spell had broken instantly. Bradley had vanished back into the light of the dining room, and I had followed a few minutes later, feeling like a criminal despite having done nothing but stand in the dark and heard him confess what might have been his deepest secrets to me. The rest of the dinner had been a fog of forced smiles and clinking glasses. I watched Linda soak up the attention, her hand constantly resting on Bradley’s arm, marking her territory without even trying. I barely ate. Every time Bradley’s hazel eyes drifted toward mine, I felt a spark that made my stomach flip. By midnight, the house had finally settled. The extended family had retreated to guest rooms and local hotels. I was in my childhood bedroom, the walls still covered in old posters that now felt like they bel
AVAThe drive from Los Angeles to my parents' house in the suburbs had felt like a slow descent into a past I tried to outrun. For three years, I’d stayed away, carving out a life that my mother called "a cry for help" and my father simply ignored. Being a stripper in LA wasn't just a job, it was my armor. It was the one thing that was entirely mine, far away from the shadow of my older sister, Linda.The last time I came home was for Linda’s wedding. It had been the event of the decade. She’d met Bradley on a dating site—a real-life US Marine, built like a brick fortress with eyes that could melt steel. They were the golden couple. And then, two years ago, the universe threw a wrench in the perfection: Linda was diagnosed with cancer.The family group chat became a shrine to her resilience. Everyone pulled resources, said novenas, and flew across the country to hold her hand. A year of hell later, she’d come out on the other side miraculously cancer-free. This Thanksgiving wasn't
STEPHANIE It was another regular chaotic day at school. Lockers slammed like cymbals down the corridor while voices bounced off the tile walls and someone shouted across the hall. The air smelled like a nauseating mix of cheap perfume, cafeteria fries, and dry-erase markers. I stepped into the hallway and immediately felt the noise crash over me. To drown it all out, I had my earbuds jammed in, Taylor Swift’s Blank Space blaring loud enough to vibrate my skull. I was leaning into the beat, my sneakers squeaking on the floor as I rounded the corner toward the old wing—the part of the building that was mostly storage and empty classrooms. I was thinking about two days ago. I was thinking about the way the mattress had dipped under Stefan’s weight as he fucked me and the way my room had smelled like him long after he’d left. My heart gave a traitorous little thump just at the memory. Suddenly, the world spun. A hand, large and strong, clamped onto my upper arm and yanked me sid
FINN“And my job is to clean up, Mr Sterling.” she said reassuringly, boldly picking the challenge I was throwing. I had her pinned between my desk and my body, the scent of her—a mix of industrial lavender and something soft, like honey and vanilla—filling my lungs until I just couldn't think str
ESMEMaddox suddenly broke from the kiss, hands softly cupping my face in a very unfamiliar sweet gesture. This was a new side to Maddox I hadn't seen before. He had never been sweet on me, never in his life. “I can almost smell your desire, Es.” He murmured, sending tingling sensations dancing d
ENIDThe way he kept saying "Get out" shouldn't have been terrifying. I mean it was a basic command, a very simple directive if you ask me. But coming from Knox Steele, in that gravelly, no-nonsense baritone, it made my knees suddenly feel like they were made of jelly even if I was still sitting.
ENID “Hello, this is your captain speaking. We’ve started our descent…” The rest of the words faded into the background as the captain’s voice crackled over the intercom, a distant, disembodied drone announcing our descent into the O’Hare International Airport. For me, it felt like I was just ab







