Cheryl’s POVThe morning light streamed through the pale curtains, brushing my room in gold, but it only made the pounding guilt in my head stronger.I sat up slowly, rubbing my arms, feeling the faint bruises of last night's chaos beneath my skin. It was almost absurd how normal everything looked. The smell of bacon frying downstairs, the creak of the old wood floors in my aunt’s house, the chirping of birds outside.But inside me?Nothing felt normal.Every time I closed my eyes, the gunshot echoed in my brain — loud, sharp, deadly. My fingers twitched at the memory, and I recoiled, wrapping my arms around my knees like they could somehow hold me together.I had shot someone.Not just anyone. Damon.I hadn't meant to — God, I hadn't meant to. It was instinct, pure reflex. I had seen the gun pressed to Aiden’s head and I hadn’t thought — I had acted.Like some wild animal, desperate to protect.But the more I thought about it… the more I realized the sinking truth:I wasn’t sure I ha
Cheryl’s POVI stared at the phone on my dresser for longer than I should have, the contact name glowing like it knew too much — like it was mocking me.Damon.I didn't even know what I wanted to say. What did you say to a man you shot? To a man you might've killed — who might still be bleeding out in some forgotten room?Still, my fingers moved on their own, like muscle memory. I tapped the call button before I could talk myself out of it. I held my breath as the dial tone started.Once.Twice.Three times.He’s not going to pick up, I told myself. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe—Click.His voice, low and gruff, filled my ears like smoke curling under a door."What a pleasant surprise," he said.I froze. My throat clenched, mouth suddenly dry."...You're okay," I managed. My voice sounded far away, like someone else had spoken for me."For the most part," he said, and I could almost hear the smirk beneath his words. "But my heart is still broken. Wasn’t expecting the woman I’m in
CHERYL'S POVThe sky hung heavy and gray above me as I drove, casting the entire town in a muted haze. It was the kind of weather that whispered secrets and warned of storms—fitting for the place I was heading. Damon’s house. Or, more accurately, the house Damon bought for me. My grip on the steering wheel tightened as I turned onto the long, winding driveway. The structure loomed into view like a forgotten secret—modern, cold, and elegant. It hadn’t changed. White concrete walls, dark paneling, glass edges that reflected the world but let no one in. It was still as breathtaking and lonely as the man who owned it.I parked and stepped out slowly, gravel crunching underfoot. The keypad beside the tall black door blinked awake as I approached. I didn’t hesitate—my fingers moved by memory, punching in the code he had set using my birthday. There was a soft click, and then the door opened with a sigh, as if the house had been holding its breath all this time.Silence met me inside.Thick
“Do you know Cheryl – “ my boss, Mr. Thompson pulled me by the arm to the corner, a small glass of tequila latched to his hand like a baby holding a thumb, he had that glassy look in his eyes, the kind where I knew he was drunk and I knew what was coming next.“Do you know the only way you can keep your job is if you get on your knees and give me a blowjob” he paused, I paused, we stared at each other for a whole minute before he burst into laughter and I echoed with my own awkward laughter – this had better be some sick joke.“Wouldn’t that be scandalous Mr. Thompson?” I turned to leave, thinking I could easily slip away and speed walk back to my office which was just down the hall but he grabbed my arms again, tighter this time and pulling me towards him, I repulsed. Mr. Thompson was a man a beer gut, protruding out and nearly cutting out some of his buttons, he was balding and smelled like he smoked cigarettes twenty hours of the day.“I’m serious Cher – “ he pulled harder and I ya
Roommate needed: Male or female, doesn’t smoke, tidy, can cook tasty meals is a plus, minds their business – I scoffed at the roommate ad, is he looking for a roommate or does he want a maid? I folded the paper into my bag as I walked into the bank to clear out all the money from me and Marty’s joint account, ten thousand dollars, it was nothing much but it was enough to get me started on a new life.It was a week after, and I hadn’t set my eyes on Marty since I found those videos on his laptop. Immediately, I packed all my stuff and moved them out of the house before he returned home. I left the laptop on the bed, playing that one video with him going down on another woman and then I sent him a text. “I saw the videos – I’m done Marty. I want a divorce” Then I blocked him because I knew he was going to try and call and I didn’t want to speak to me. I didn’t want him to try and charm me with his words, look into my eyes with those big brown orbs of his and draw me back into his arm
“Hello Tiny” I heard the voice before I saw the face and it felt like I had been transported back in time, to where I was still in high school, and this voice taunted me all through. I paused, stepping back a little and I saw his face – I took a sharp intake of breath. It was him quite alright – Aiden Scott.“What – what are you doing here?” my voice came out squeakier than I intended it to be and I cleared my throat.“It’s my house silly – turns out you’re my roommate” he flashed a smile and I felt my stomach churn. He stretched upwards to retrieve the pots and placed them in the sink “I shouldn’t have kept them so far away – anyways what are you making cus I’m starving tiny”I couldn’t breathe – I placed a hand over my chest and my heart beat felt off the charts. It was him – and he hadn’t changed at all. He still had the sharp jaw with his reckless blue eyes, I could still feel his wicked charm ricocheting off him and he still had the face that looked like it was carved specially b
I had already downed my second glass when I began to fill the floozy effects of the bitter booze. Don’t get me wrong, I had gotten drunk or more likely tipsy, a few cans of beer, few glasses of wine but never the vodka and tequila kind, I always liked to keep it clean and a bit classy.But this was a different kind of drunk, I could feel the room spinning around and my tongue felt kind of loose, kind of sour and although it wasn’t a feeling I hated yet, it was different.I flashed my attention back to the group as they bickered on and on, and I tried to blend in, bob my head to the beat of the music in the background, nod my head to my conversations and maybe chuckled every bit now and then. I thought I was getting away with it until I heard Anika call my name.“That reminds me Cheryl, you got married didn’t you, you made this big fuss about it on social media” then I saw her eyes flicker to my finger where I had gotten rid of the ring, and my fingers lay empty.“What happened?” she a
I woke up the next morning in my room, still wearing the clothes I wore the previous night. Soft rays of sunlight streamed lazily through the window and just as I tried to sit up that was when I felt it – a sharp zing slicing through my head, I fell back to the bed immediately. I shut my eyes to ease off the pressure and then it slowly started coming back to me.The previous night.‘Teach me’ I remembered saying to Aiden before I had puked all over his shoes.“Fuck!” I groaned internally. We had been roommates for barely twenty four hours and I had already embarrassed myself and puked on him. This is the reason I get bullied – I was always so clumsy and stupid. Well it was going to be okay, all I needed to do now was to avoid him at least just until I got a new place and then I would never have to see him again.I stood up gently from the bed, putting some slippers on and I walked quietly out of the room. The house was quiet, I wish the air would still even further so I could listen f
CHERYL'S POVThe sky hung heavy and gray above me as I drove, casting the entire town in a muted haze. It was the kind of weather that whispered secrets and warned of storms—fitting for the place I was heading. Damon’s house. Or, more accurately, the house Damon bought for me. My grip on the steering wheel tightened as I turned onto the long, winding driveway. The structure loomed into view like a forgotten secret—modern, cold, and elegant. It hadn’t changed. White concrete walls, dark paneling, glass edges that reflected the world but let no one in. It was still as breathtaking and lonely as the man who owned it.I parked and stepped out slowly, gravel crunching underfoot. The keypad beside the tall black door blinked awake as I approached. I didn’t hesitate—my fingers moved by memory, punching in the code he had set using my birthday. There was a soft click, and then the door opened with a sigh, as if the house had been holding its breath all this time.Silence met me inside.Thick
Cheryl’s POVI stared at the phone on my dresser for longer than I should have, the contact name glowing like it knew too much — like it was mocking me.Damon.I didn't even know what I wanted to say. What did you say to a man you shot? To a man you might've killed — who might still be bleeding out in some forgotten room?Still, my fingers moved on their own, like muscle memory. I tapped the call button before I could talk myself out of it. I held my breath as the dial tone started.Once.Twice.Three times.He’s not going to pick up, I told myself. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe—Click.His voice, low and gruff, filled my ears like smoke curling under a door."What a pleasant surprise," he said.I froze. My throat clenched, mouth suddenly dry."...You're okay," I managed. My voice sounded far away, like someone else had spoken for me."For the most part," he said, and I could almost hear the smirk beneath his words. "But my heart is still broken. Wasn’t expecting the woman I’m in
Cheryl’s POVThe morning light streamed through the pale curtains, brushing my room in gold, but it only made the pounding guilt in my head stronger.I sat up slowly, rubbing my arms, feeling the faint bruises of last night's chaos beneath my skin. It was almost absurd how normal everything looked. The smell of bacon frying downstairs, the creak of the old wood floors in my aunt’s house, the chirping of birds outside.But inside me?Nothing felt normal.Every time I closed my eyes, the gunshot echoed in my brain — loud, sharp, deadly. My fingers twitched at the memory, and I recoiled, wrapping my arms around my knees like they could somehow hold me together.I had shot someone.Not just anyone. Damon.I hadn't meant to — God, I hadn't meant to. It was instinct, pure reflex. I had seen the gun pressed to Aiden’s head and I hadn’t thought — I had acted.Like some wild animal, desperate to protect.But the more I thought about it… the more I realized the sinking truth:I wasn’t sure I ha
Cheryl’s POVThe moment I felt his arms wrap around me, I thought everything would be okay. For a single, fleeting second, the chaos quieted. But then I looked down. My eyes found Damon’s body lying limp on the cold, cracked earth, blood blooming beneath him like ink spilled from a broken pen.That’s when it hit me.I had shot someone.I had taken a life. Maybe not completely yet, but I could see the way his chest rose in stuttered breaths, each one weaker than the last. His blood... his blood was on me.I stepped out of Aiden’s embrace like I was in a daze, my body numb, the gun suddenly burning hot in my hands. I dropped it. It clattered to the ground like it had fulfilled its purpose.“We need to call someone,” I breathed. “911. We have to call for help.”Aiden’s voice was firm but low. “We need to get the hell out of here, Cheryl. Now. Before Alejandro realizes what’s happening.”“No!” I snapped, shaking my head. My voice cracked. “No, we can’t just leave him like that. I shot him
Damon’s POVHe always knew it would come to this.The moment he saw Cheryl for the first time — in that slinky red dress at that bar, soft curls falling over her shoulders like poetry in motion — he knew he'd never stand a chance. Not when Aiden was involved. Aiden always got what he wanted, he looked like a guy that got everything he wanted. The girls. The glory. The forgiveness. Even after everything.But not this time.Not anymore.Damon lit a cigarette and took a long drag, leaning against the black Impala parked under the sickly orange glow of a dying streetlamp. The road out here was cracked, half-swallowed by overgrown weeds. The silence of the place clawed at the back of his neck, broken only by the distant echo of a rusted windmill creaking with each breeze.The warehouse ahead of him stood like a tomb — abandoned, graffitied, the scent of oil and mildew bleeding from its rusted frame. It used to be a car assembly plant, once. Now, it was the kind of place nightmares came to
Cheryl’s POVThe room was dimly lit—too dim to tell if the red smears on the floor were wine or something far worse.The air smelled of rusted metal, sweat, and something faintly floral—like someone had tried to mask the decay with cheap perfume, or maybe it was my own perfume turned cheap from the deathliness of this place. A single lightbulb swung lazily from the ceiling above me, casting long, flickering shadows that danced across the concrete walls like ghosts.My hands were still untied and free when my eyes popped again to the strangeness of this place, but they still ached from the pressure of the zip ties. My legs were numb, folded underneath me on the cold stone floor. I didn’t know how long I’d been here—minutes, hours—it all bled together in this silent, chilling purgatory.Until the door opened.It didn’t creak or groan. It glided open smoothly, almost soundlessly, like it had been waiting for this moment. And when I looked up—he was there.The boss - or so I assumed becau
Cheryl’s POVThe first thing I felt was the cold. It seeped through my skin like tiny shards of ice, making it impossible to stay asleep. Then came the pain—an aching throb behind my eyes, the sore sting in my wrists, the bruised thump of my knees. My body felt like it had been tossed like trash into the back of a car.I opened my eyes to darkness. Not complete darkness, but the dim, flickering kind—the kind that hummed from a dying fluorescent bulb overhead.My heart pounded. My breathing stuttered.Where the hell am I?I sat up slowly, the thin mattress beneath me crunching with old springs. My hands were free, but the bruises around my wrists told me they hadn’t always been. I looked around. Four walls. One metal door. No windows. A chair in the corner. A bucket near the wall that made my stomach turn.This was not a misunderstanding.This was not a mistake.I had been kidnapped.My fingers clenched into fists as panic began to crawl up my throat. And then… Aiden. His name crashed
AIDEN'S POVI didn’t touch my food. I mean how could i even bring myself to eat in the situation but I had ordered the pastas already, it would be a shame to let it all go to waste.I couldn’t even bring myself to look at it.The table sat still, mocking me—her untouched wine glass, the roses she didn’t take with her, the memory of her voice echoing in my ears like a haunting."Do you know why I didn’t show up to that party?"God. I could still see the tears in her eyes when she said it. I could still feel her slipping through my fingers like smoke I couldn’t hold onto.She had walked out of that restaurant with her head held high, but I knew the storm she was holding back. Just like I knew I’d caused it.I stood slowly, threw some cash on the table, and stepped out into the night air. The streets were a little quieter now, the golden light of the restaurant casting long shadows across the pavement.That’s when I saw it.Her purse. Her phone.Just lying there. Abandoned.Panic sliced
AIDEN'S POVI’d texted her earlier asking if she wanted to meet for lunch. But this wasn’t going to be just lunch — I was planning a date. A real one. The kind where I’d lay it all out: the truth, my past, my feelings. I was going to tell her everything. Then I was going to tell her I loved her and I wasn't that person anymore.So I dressed like it mattered. A dark navy suit, tailored. The tie she once complimented. I bought a bouquet of red roses — ones that matched the silvery-red dress I’d sent over earlier. It had taken me a solid hour to choose that dress, something that clung just right and shimmered when she moved.The restaurant was tucked into the edge of the waterfront, the kind of place that wore its elegance like an old song — soft jazz playing in the background, golden lighting that kissed the walls, waiters in pressed shirts moving with quiet grace, and tables set with flickering candles and polished silver.I arrived early. Sat by the window with the view of the river g