CHAPTER 123
**WINTER**
“Please, Zion… I need you. I need the old you, the best friend I had before everything changed… just for tonight,” my voice cracks as I speak, the desperation pouring out of me, raw and unguarded. I’ve never felt so vulnerable, and I can’t fight it anymore.
I know I’m not being fair, but if he walks out now, I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle it. I need him—his presence, his arms around me.
There’s a torment in his eyes, a struggle, and for a moment, I’m convinced he might leave me. But then, after what feels like an eternity, he speaks, his voice rough and quiet.
Zion stares at me for a long moment,
"I can never be the best friend you remember..." he pauses, licking his lips, his gaze flickering toward the door as if considering leaving.
"And if I stay, it won’t change the fact that I still hate you."
“I know…” I whisper, the words barely escaping.
Then, with a deep sigh, he murmurs,
“Budge over,” and climbs into bed beside me.
“Thank you,” I whisper, pressing myself into his side, absorbing the solid, unwavering presence of him.
“I wanted to kill him,” he breathes into the dark.
“I know,” I whisper back, my throat tight.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he continues, the weight of his words pressing down like a heavy blanket.
Us.
He’s talking about what’s happened between us, but I don’t fully understand it. I don’t know how our friendship, once so effortless, turned into something full of anger and distance from his side. But I’m too tired to ask, too worn out to seek the answers I should be looking for.
“Zion...” My voice is barely above a breath.
“When I saw him on top of you, it broke something in me, Snowflake. It fucking shredded me.” His voice cracks with raw emotion. "It's because of me....."
“I don’t blame you, Zion.” My heart aches at the truth of those words.
“You should.” He pulls me closer, his chin resting gently on top of my head.
“Zion, I—”
“Shh, Snowflake,” he murmurs.
“You need to get some rest.”
“Yeah,” I whisper, though I don’t want to sleep.
I want to talk about everything—the things between us, our friendship, the hatred that twisted it all. I want to understand what I did wrong, what I lied about,and what happened to us.
But as his hand moves slowly up and down my spine, the gentle rhythm lulling me, my eyelids grow heavy. Despite myself, sleep begins to pull me under, and I can’t fight it anymore.
Wrapped in Zion’s arms, I finally let go.
...............
The bright morning sunlight filters through the blinds, but as I try to open my eyes, a sharp wince of pain radiates through me. Everything hurts—my cheekbone, my jaw, the bruises on my throat from Ethan’s grip. But nothing hurts more than the emptiness beside me.
Zion’s side of the bed is cold, and the absence of him is a weight I can’t ignore. I’m not surprised—he’s probably back to his angry, distant self—but it still stings.
“Winter?” Jenny’s voice calls from the other side of the door.
“I’m awake,” I croak, my throat still sore. She peeks inside, her worried gaze settling on me.
“How are you feeling?”
I pause before answering, the words slipping out more honestly than I intended.
“Honestly... everything hurts.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmurs, slipping into the room and sitting gently on the edge of the bed. Her fingers trace over the bruises on my face with a tenderness that makes my heart ache.
“Gosh, I’d love to drive over right now and teach that boy a lesson,” she says, her voice thick with fury.
“I’m fi—”
“Don’t you dare tell me you’re fine,” she interrupts, her voice sharp.
“You were sexually assaulted, Winter. If Harry and the boys hadn’t gotten to you in time, we’d be having a very different conversation.”
The thought hits me like a punch to the gut, and my body trembles with the raw horror of what almost happened.
I draw in a shaky breath and ask,
“Um, does Dad know? I mean, he didn’t even come in to check on me…” The question slips out before I can stop it, my voice laced with a bitterness I wish I didn’t feel.
Does he not care at all?
Jenny reaches for my hand, her grip warm and steady, and I cling to it like a lifeline.
“He knows,” she says softly, her thumb brushing over my knuckles.
"Oh. But he didn’t bother to come in, didn’t bother to ask how I was…"
“Don’t, Winter, don’t say that,” Jenny says, her voice firm yet gentle.
“Your dad cares. When he found out what happened, it took everything in me to stop him from going after Ethan and killing him on the spot. I know he doesn’t always show it, but he does love you. He loves you more than you realize.”
She tightens her grip on my hand, her eyes filled with a fierce kind of reassurance.
“You’re not alone in this, okay? We’ll get through it together. I promise.”
I try to nod, to believe her words, but the weight in my chest is too heavy to lift.
Maybe it will be okay… eventually. I hadn’t even thought of Ethan or his disgusting hands since Zion was here. His presence had chased those dark memories away, giving me a momentary reprieve.
But now they creep back in, suffocating me with their vileness. I shake my head, trying to force them away again, as Jenny squeezes my hand.
She clears her throat, pushing through the discomfort. “The boys have Ethan detained at the warehouse.”
“Detained? What does that mean?” I ask, confusion mixing with fear.
“It means they won’t let him leave until your father has had a word with him.”
Jenny’s gaze hardens as she looks away, the tension in her shoulders stiffening.
A cold knot tightens in my stomach. “What’s going to happen to him?”
“Ethan Wilde is a predator, Winter,” she says, her voice low and laced with something dark.
“And your father will make sure he’s dealt with accordingly.”
My father is holding Ethan…
The words slam into me, my breath catching in my throat. My father—who has never so much as looked at me with real concern—is personally handling Ethan.
A shiver runs through me.
What does that even mean? Is he going to hurt him?
Jenny’s voice pulls me back.
“Hey, don’t worry,” she says gently, brushing a strand of hair from my face.
“Your dad and the boys won’t do anything illegal. They’ll handle it the right way.”
I nod slowly, trying to believe her, but my mind is spinning.
What is the ‘right way’ for them?
She offers me a small smile. “Can I get you anything?”
I hesitate, my throat dry. “Maybe… coffee?” My voice is weak, uncertain, but it’s something.
“Of course,” she says softly, squeezing my hand before standing. But even as she moves away, my thoughts stay locked on one thing—what exactly is my father doing to Ethan?
“Zion is downstairs, trying to make himself useful.”
Zion’s still here? He didn’t leave?
“I have a meeting to go to soon,” Jenny continues,
“So I’ll ask him to bring it up to you and stay with you until I get back. He’ll never admit it, but I think he’s worried about you.”
“He is?” The words escape me before I can stop them. Something about hearing that sparks a flicker of warmth in my chest.
Jenny smiles knowingly. “Of course he is, Winter,” she says gently.
“You’re family.”
Family?
The word hangs in the air, unfamiliar and bittersweet.
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