Page 25 of Tainted Tempos

His weight bearing down on me. The fabric of the back of the couch against my palm.

I shudder. Mav moves closer and slips his hand over mine.

“Take your time,” he says patiently. His thumb rubs soothing circles in the center of my palm, reassuring me.

His kindness brings tears to the corners of my eyes, and I blink them away.

“We went outside first. I remember looking up at the sky. There was a deck and a bonfire and red Solo cups. Students were hanging out in clusters, talking, laughing, dancing. At some point, Bran ushered me upstairs. I didn’t feel well. Hot and cold, like I was having an out-of-body experience. I was floating above myself, watching everything unfold, but I couldn’t speak. Or move. I tried to tell him I felt sick. But he covered my mouth with his hand.”

Mav flinches.

“Don’t tell anyone, Mckenna Byrne.”

“I’ll destroy your fucking life.”

“You owe me. And I own you.”

I clear my throat. Bran’s voice echoing in my mind makes me feel nauseous and unsteady. I pull in a deep breath and try to regulate my erratic heartbeat.

Bran’s not here. It’s only Maverick.

I’m safe.

“He told me not to tell anyone, or he’d destroy my life. He said he owned me.” I screw my eyes closed as more moments crystallize in my mind. “We were in a common room. There was a couch and a huge TV. Bran dropped me behind the couch. He held me down. I remember the weight of his chest pinning me to the floor. His breath was hot, all over my face. And he was…” I drop my head, ashamed of what I will say next.

“You’re okay, beauty. You’re doing great,” Mav murmurs, his words gentle.

“He was rough and barbaric, and he raped me on a dirty, sticky floor while a party raged right below us,” I rush out, wanting to part with the words, with the memories and reminders and fear and shame, once and for all. “Afterwards, he spit on me and reminded me that it’s my word against his and that he’ll win. He always wins. Then, he left. Just left me lying there.”

Mav sucks in a breath and straightens. He rears back like I kicked him in the stomach, and I watch him carefully, noting every expression that crosses his face.

They change rapidly.

Fury, anguish, pain, hatred, hurt, concern, and then… I avert my gaze. I hate that I’m hurting Mav. I hate that he knows the truth, yet I’m also relieved that he knows.

That someone knows and believes me.

“He deserves to rot in fucking hell,” Mav says, his voice raw and dangerous.

I shiver and nod in agreement.

“Fuck, beauty, I’m sorry that happened to you. I’m so goddamn sorry,” Mav continues, his voice cracking.

Before I can reply, I’m in his arms. He hauls me against his chest and wraps his arms around me, cocooning me againsthis body. He presses kisses along my hairline and murmurs soothing words in my ear.

I relax in his hold, and my heartbeat slows.

“He won’t get away with this, Mckenna,” Maverick declares.

I snuggle deeper into his embrace, not wanting to think about what comes next. Not tonight.

Now that I’ve confessed, exhaustion clings to me. I’m drained—physically, emotionally, mentally. And Maverick’s here—strong, steady, protective.

“I promise I won’t let him get away with this,” Mav repeats.

“Maverick?”

He pulls away slightly so he can look down and meet my eyes. “Yeah, baby?”

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