Page 135 of Let Me In

Not of shame. Not of punishment.

Of consequence.

Because I walked toward danger. Because I broke the rule meant to keep me safe.

And my safety…

That’s everything to him.

It goes on.

Not for seconds, but for minutes.

He is not cruel. He is not angry.

But he is unrelenting.

Each one lands with a heat that sinks deep into the flesh of my backside, but I keep my face buried in the cushion. Keep my hands balled tight beneath me.

I don’t cry, I don’t speak. Still.

Even when the swats start to fall faster.

Even when my skin begins to burn.

Even when my body tenses so tightly I think I might shake apart.

Because somewhere inside me, there’s a voice that still says: you don’t get to fall apart. Not really. Not out loud.

But Cal sees it.

I can feel him reading me. Every shift. Every clench. Every breath I hold too long. His palm comes to rest at the small of my back—warm and grounding.

“Don’t you hide from me, little one.”

The words wrap around me like heat—stern, grounding. My stomach draws tight, nerves flaring low as heat prickles along my skin. It’s not fear. It’s being seen. Known.

My whole body goes still. I feel his hand pause against my back—just for a second, just enough to catch his breath like it’s caught in his throat. There’s a faint tremor there, like this is costing him, too.

“I know what you’re doing,” he says. “Trying to take it all without a sound. Like you think you’ve gotta earn safety, little one—when it's already yours to keep.”

The words hit harder than any swat.

“You don’t.”

And then his hand rises again.

The next strike lands lower. Harder.

I gasp. Just once.

And somehow… I don’t disappear.

And then, I feel it. My waistband is drawn lower. Just enough.

Just enough for him to reach the tenderest place.

My upper thighs.

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