CHAPTER 122
**WINTER**
As I press my palms flat against the cold tiles, the first tear falls, then another, until silent sobs wrack my body beneath the steady stream of water. My chest tightens, the weight of fear, shame, and humiliation pressing down on me, suffocating.
I grab the soap with trembling hands and scrub at my skin—hard.
Hard enough that it burns, hard enough that it should erase the feeling of Ethan’s touch, but no matter how much I scrub, I can still feel him there, like a stain that won’t wash away.
The tears blur my vision, but I stay quiet, biting down on my lip to keep the sobs from escaping, to keep anyone from hearing. I don’t want them to know. I don’t want them to see how broken I feel.
But with every tear that falls, with every frantic swipe of my hands over my skin, I only feel worse—like I’m washing away everything except the weight of what happened.
A loud knock at the door startles me, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts.
“Winter, you good in there?” Claire’s voice drifts through the door, laced with concern.
I swallow hard, forcing my voice to stay steady.
“Um… yeah....I’m coming,” I call out, though my voice is barely more than a whisper.
Shutting off the water, I step out, my movements slow and shaky. Grabbing my thick, fluffy robe, I wrap it tightly around myself, as if it can shield me from the lingering ghosts of Ethan’s touch. My hands tremble as I wipe my face, trying to erase the evidence of my breakdown, trying to pull myself together.
I don’t dare look at my reflection. I already know what I’ll see—and I’m not ready to face it.
When I open the bathroom door, Claire’s eyes immediately widen. The pale look on her face says everything—she’s terrified.
“Feeling better?” she asks softly, her voice full of cautious hope.
I nod.
“Are you sure?”
I take a shaky breath, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes.
“I’m okay.”
The words sound hollow, even to me, but I keep saying them, as though maybe, just maybe, if I repeat it enough, it will be true. Maybe if I keep saying it, everyone else will believe it.
“I never should have made you go to that stupid party… and I should have never left you alone,” Claire whispers, her voice cracking under the weight of her guilt.
I reach for her hand, trying to offer her the comfort I barely have myself.
“You couldn’t have known he’d do… this.”
She shakes her head fiercely, eyes shining with unshed tears.
“No, Winter. It doesn’t matter. I should have been there. I should have protected you.” Her voice quivers, thick with guilt, and I see it pressing down on her, crushing her.
She gently leads me to the bed, pulling the blankets over me with careful hands, as if tucking me in could somehow undo the damage. But I don’t miss the way her fingers tremble, the way her breath catches like she’s barely holding it together.
I wish I could tell her it’s not her fault. That it’s his.
“Claire......”
“I’m going to get you something to eat… and maybe a sleeping pill,” she murmurs.
“You need rest. The guys are downstairs... they’re angry. They’re saying they’ll take care of this. They’ll make sure Ethan pays for what he did.”
I nod, the words hanging heavy in my chest, but I can't bring myself to say anything more.
What else is there to say?
Of course, I want him to pay.
But right now, I just need silence.
I need to forget, even if only for a little while.
“I’ll get you something,” Claire says, her voice softer now, before turning and leaving the room.
I’m left in the quiet, the emptiness wrapping around me like a suffocating fog. The only sounds are the rush of blood in my ears and the frantic beat of my heart, each thudding pulse a constant reminder of everything I wish I could erase.
......
I squeeze my eyes shut, willing sleep to come, but it’s useless. My mind won’t stop replaying everything—every touch, every moment of fear.
I haven’t seen Harry, Ronald, or Clark since we got back, but I know Zion is close. I’ve heard his voice, low and sharp, swearing under his breath somewhere in the house. I saw him rip into Ethan, his rage untamed, radiating off him like a storm.
But why?
Wasn’t he supposed to hate me? He’s shown that hatred over and over, each time colder and more cutting than the last. So why was he so... different now?
His anger wasn’t just for Ethan, it was for me, too, wasn’t it? Or was it?
So why was he acting like this now? Like he cared?
The soft creak of my bedroom door pulls me from the edge of restless sleep.
My body stiffens.
Footsteps. Slow, deliberate.
My breath catches, my pulse hammering in my throat. Panic surges like ice through my veins as I jolt upright, my heart slamming against my ribs.
"W-whos there..."
“Snowflake..,” a voice murmurs in the dark.
“Z-Zion?” I whisper, and the door creaks open.
“Shit, I didn’t mean to scare you…” Zion’s voice is filled with panic as he steps closer to the bed, his tone heavy with regret.
“Zion, what—”
“I won’t stay long,” he interrupts, his voice low, almost hesitant as he moves closer.
“I just needed to see you. To make sure…” His words trail off as he stands right at the edge of my bed, his eyes sweeping over my face, lingering on the bruises.
They must look worse now.
“Fuck,” he breathes, running a hand over his jaw, the frustration and pain in his tone clear.
“I’m okay,” I murmur, though the words feel hollow in the silence.
“Nothing about this is okay.” Zion’s voice is tight with emotion, his hands curling into fists at his sides.
“This is all my fault.”
I stare at Zion, a storm of emotions raging inside me.
Yes, this is his fault.
I want to scream at him, ask why he let this happen—why me—but instead, I see the storm of guilt and regret in his eyes.
And for some twisted reason, I try to ease it.
“I’m okay. How were you supposed to know he’d—”
“Don’t. Don’t try to make excuses for me.” His voice breaks, raw with pain.
“He hates me, but to get back at me, he thought he could use you…”
“You’re worried about little ol’ me? Now that’s a first since I got here.” I try to lighten the tension with a smile, but it falters when I see his face.
He doesn’t smile back.
“I’m fine. It looks worse than it is.”
“He almost fucking raped you. Because of me.” The words are a punch to the gut, and I watch as the color drains from his face, even in the dim light.
He stands up, pacing the room, his hand raking through his hair in frustration.
"I'll just go... you rest," he says, his voice thick with defeat, and a cold, desperate fear spreads through me.
The thought of being left alone, tightens its grip around my chest. I don’t want him to go, don’t want to face the silence that will swallow me whole.
“Stay” My voice is barely a whisper, fragile,
Zion stops, his hand still on the door handle. He turns to look at me, a question in his eyes.
“What?”
“I can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I—” My words catch in my throat, the panic creeping up, choking me with its intensity.
“Just lie with me for a little while, until I fall asleep.”
His eyes flicker with hesitation.
“Your dad... he’ll kill me.”
Dad.
Right.
The same man who hasn’t even bothered to check if I’m okay. The one who abandoned me emotionally long before I ended up here.
“It’s nearly three in the morning. Everyone’s asleep... or at least, they should be,” I add quietly, almost to myself.
Zion doesn’t answer right away, his gaze shifting away from me, his expression unreadable.
“Just for a while.”
I’m not playing fair, but the thought of him walking out the door now, of being left alone, feels like it would break me.
“Please, Zion. I need my old best friend back, even if it’s just for tonight,” my voice breaks on the words, but I can’t stop it.
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