Page 176 of Crave
Then I saw him.
Penn.
He was seated across from me, spine straight but hollowed out like something vital had been scooped from his chest. His lip was split, one eye swelling shut.
He didn’t speak.
Didn’t move.
And when his gaze finally met mine—it wasn’t relief or guilt.
It was shame.
Shame so deep it made my stomach twist.
“Sorry, Angelica,” he said, voice rough. “They made me do it.”
The words sliced through me.
No.
No.
I scrambled back, my foot catching on the floor mat as panic crushed my ribs from the inside. I reached for the door handle, blind with terror?—
A hand caught me from behind.
Cold. Dry. Iron.
It slammed over my mouth as the scream built inside, killing the sound cold.
And then I felt him.
Behind me. Around me.
Him.
The monster in my head. He was real.
He was here.
His breath brushed my ear. Slow. Intimate. Poison.
“Go still, little flame…”
The words didn’t just touch me. They pierced me.
My muscles froze. My heart thundered once—twice—then slowed to something dull and dragging.
I could hear the blood moving in my veins. Could feel the shift behind my eyes.
The command dug in. Burrowed deep.
My body betrayed me.
My arms fell limp. My mouth went slack beneath the hand that still held me in place.
Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, but I didn’t blink.
