CHAPTER 121
**WINTER**
“Ethan fucking Wilde.”
Just listening to his name sends a violent shudder through me. I flinch at the sound of it, my body reacting before my mind can catch up.
Zion's head whips towards me, his eyes narrowing into slits as he zeroes in on my reaction.
For an instant, his face is a mask of granite-hard fury, his jaw clenched and his nostrils flaring. But then, something in his expression shifts. He sees the fear and revulsion etched on my face, and the hardness in his eyes softens ever so slightly.
“Shh, I’ve got you,” Zion murmurs, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he carries me into my room.
He lowers me onto the bed with such care, as though I might shatter beneath his touch. The tension in his jaw betrays the storm raging inside him, but for now, he reins it in.
Jenny is at my side in an instant, her face etched with anguish. She climbs onto the bed beside me, her movements hurried but gentle. Her fingers find mine, lacing them together with a tender grasp as though trying to anchor me. With her other hand, she brushes the damp strands of hair from my face, her touch light and soothing.
Her gaze locks onto mine, searching, for answers. Her lips part, but it takes her a moment to speak, her voice trembling as she whispers,
“Winter…” She swallows hard, her words catching in her throat.
Her voice is barely audible, a fragile whisper that cracks under the weight of her own fear.
"Did he...did he..." The question hangs in the air, unfinished and unspoken, yet its implication is clear.
I can see the worst-case scenarios playing out in her mind, the terrible possibilities that she dare not speak aloud.
I shake my head weakly, my hands clutching hers cling desperately needing something solid something.
My voice is barely above a whisper as I force out the words, each one tasting bitter and acrid on my tongue.
"No...when he...he was about to..." The sentence trails off, incomplete and broken,
"Harry got there in time."
As I speak, Zion's body tenses beside us, his fists clenching at his sides like granite boulders. His entire body trembles with restrained fury, his muscles coiled and ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.
His eyes burn with a fierce intensity, a fire that seems to rage hotter with every passing moment. The air around him seems to vibrate with tension as he struggles to contain his anger, his fury simmering just below the surface like a volcano waiting to erupt.
“I’ll kill him,” he growls, his tone deadly.
“I swear to God, I’ll fucking kill him.”
Jenny shoots him a pointed look, her disapproval clear.
He rolls his eyes but doesn’t take it back. Not even a little.
“I’m fine.” The lie slips from my lips too easily, a fragile shield I desperately cling to. I want to believe it, need to believe it—for their sake and mine. Everyone needs to calm down, and I need to pull myself together.
But Ethan’s hands are still imprinted on my skin, his vile, disgusting words echoing in my mind like a poison. The memory of his touch, his fingers invading places they never should have—
A wave of nausea rises so fast it chokes me. My stomach heaves violently, and I scramble off the bed, barely making it to the bathroom. I drop to my knees, my head hanging over the toilet just in time to retch.
“Shit,” Zion curses behind me, his voice tight with worry. He’s by my side in seconds, sweeping my hair back off my shoulders and holding it out of the way. His other hand moves to my back, rubbing soothing circles as my body convulses.
“I’ll grab her some water,” Jenny says softly, her voice trembling as she runs out of the room, leaving us alone.
When the contents of my stomach are finally gone, I lean back, exhausted, my trembling body sagging into Zion’s waiting arms. He lowers me gently to the floor, his grip steady and grounding.
“Its over—” His voice is low, the question barely audible but laced with a dangerous edge.
“What if…” My voice falters, trembling as the words claw their way out of me.
“W-what if Harry… hadn’t gotten there in time?”
My chest tightens, the realization crashing over me like a tidal wave. Ethan was going to rape me. He was going to—
“Oh God,” I gasp, my hands shaking as I press them to my face, trying to block out the memories clawing at me.
“Hey, hey,” Zion murmurs, his arms wrapping around me protectively.
“You’re safe now. I’ve got you. No one’s going to hurt you again.”
His words should be comforting, but all I can feel is the icy weight of what almost happened.
“He’ll pay, Snowflake,” Zion vows, his voice cold, steady, filled with an unshakable determination.
“I promise you, he won’t get away with this.”
I shake my head, barely hearing him, his words distant and muffled under the rising panic swelling in my chest. My fingers claw at my shirt, the fabric suddenly suffocating, clinging to me like a sick reminder of what happened.
“I need to get out of these clothes,” I mutter, my voice shaky, my hands trembling as I tug at the material, desperate to rid myself of the feeling.
“Shit, Snowflake. Wait—stop. Let me help.”
Zion moves quickly, his hands firm yet careful as he steadies me. He helps me to my feet, his touch light as he peels the soiled fabric away, his jaw tight with suppressed emotion.
When the shirt finally slips off, I feel exposed, raw, even though I know he’s not looking at me like that. Zion steps back, motioning toward the shower.
“Can you manage?” he asks, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.
I nod, too weary to speak, the lump in my throat making it impossible anyway.
“If you need anything,” he says softly, lingering near the door, “I’ll be right outside. Okay?”
“I’m fine.” The words are sharp, defensive. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to hold on to whatever shred of dignity I have left.
His jaw tightens, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. “Snow—”
“Just go. I can manage,” I snap, cutting him off.
He hesitates, his gaze searching mine like he doesn’t quite believe me. But then he nods once, his lips pressing into a thin line as he steps out and quietly shuts the door behind him.
I stare at the closed door for a moment, anger bubbling beneath the surface.
What's up with him?
Zion, acting like he cares.
Like he’s the hero in all of this.
The same guy who left me humiliated in the woods, who turned his back on me when I needed him. And now he’s pretending I mean something to him?
The thought sends a bitter laugh to the back of my throat, but it dies before it escapes. I strip out of my underwear and step into the shower, stumbling slightly as my legs threaten to give out. My fingers fumble to turn the water on, and soon it’s cascading over me, but I don’t register the temperature.
I’m numb. Empty.
The water mixes with the tears I can’t hold back anymore as the reality sinks in. What happened. What almost happened. My knees hit the floor of the shower, and I don’t even care. The weight of it all is too much. Too heavy to carry right now.
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