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When we’re finally together, Jett’s hands immediately find my hips, both of us swaying to the rhythm of the music.
“You tellin’ me you want me to take you home, baby?”
I peer up through my lashes at his towering frame. For the first time in all my endeavors with men, Jett makes me feel…feminine.
Like I don’t have to wear the pants, or to take charge in order to protect myself.
Like I’m the fucking prize.
With a singular nod, I follow as Jett turns with my hand in his, weaving us through the club.
In a world of our own, we stall by the front door as the ongoing line from outside is escorted in by the group load. The same double doors we’re waiting at to exit, open, and the one a.m. crowd whisks their way in.
“Holy shit, Fia. I haven’t seen you in forever.” A familiar voice creeps up my skin before I can register where it’s coming from.
My eyes squint through the crowd, and as soon as they find him, my stomach freefalls. Brandon, the man I only remember as the friend of my worst nightmare, stands tall and eerily too friendly for my liking.
My grip on Jett’s hand turns deathly, my knuckles white, all the blood from every inch of me draining to my feet.
Unable to speak, Jett’s seductive rasp finds my ear and whispers. “Do you know him?”
Nodding, I turn and face him, finding safety in the only thing that I know won’t hurt me.
Keeping his voice low, even in the loud club, he pleads. “Please don’t tell me this is him.”
I shake my head quickly, all the while feeling a tremor clog my throat. “N-No,” I respond weakly, grounding myself in his honey-brown eyes. “His friend.”
I’m fucking quivering at the thought of possibly seeing the monster. Will he walk in next? Will he notice me? If Jett weren’t here with me, would he do it to me again?
Jett latches tighter onto my hand, leaning protectively into my body.
“No one’s going to hurt you, baby. I’ve got you.”
Hanging desperately onto his words, I let him take the lead. Giving what I think is a tight smile to Brandon, I watch his face contort in confusion, but my vision blurs just as I allow myself to really notice him.
Outside, the cold air is a relief to my scorching lungs as dry heaves wheeze from my mouth. My grasp on Jett’s arm holds tighter, like my life depends on it.
Panic still surges while the memories of that night stabs me in the chest.
Remind me to thank Brandon for inviting you.
Had it all been a setup? Was Brandon behind it all? Did he know just now that his friend abused me? Stole from me? Took a part of me that I never wanted anyone to have?
“Hey,” Jett whispers, grabbing my face between his two large palms. “Look at me, I’ve got you.”
“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what just happened. I…”
“Stop.” His harsh tone wakes me from my dark daydream.
“You don’t apologize for someone else making you uncomfortable. You don’t for a goddamn second feel bad for being frightened by someone who put you in danger. Men are put on this earth to protect, and we’ve failed you. Fuck, Sofia baby, I am so sorry all of this happened. It eats me alive, but know this, you will never be scared in my arms. Your walls will never have to be built so high in fear that no one will protect you better than yourself, because I will. I love your strength. It’s one of the most beautiful things about you, but your safety is my job, you got that?”
Tears well at the corners of my eyes. I shake and nod all at once.
Keeping Jett close, I clutch at his forearm, not wanting to let him go. Peering up with a beseeching stare, I breathe out, “Please just take me home.”
Since our shows started, we’ve been staying at Jett’s penthouse in the city, and while it’s beautiful, I wish, more than anything, that we could’ve driven back to Greenway Grove.
I don’t know what it is about being there. Maybe it’s where I finally opened the vault, or the comfort I felt for what feels like the first time in two years, but Jett’s home didn’t feel like just a milestone. It felt like ours. A place where all the outside noise couldn’t get in.
