CHAPTER 125
**ZION**
"Please, Zion… I need you. I need the old you, the best friend I had before everything changed… just for tonight."
Her voice was a whisper, but it cut through me like a blade.
I hesitated, standing at the base of the stairs, my pulse hammering as her words echoed in my head.
Last night, every instinct screamed at me to walk away. To remind her that she wasn’t just some lost girl seeking comfort—she was a liar. A traitor. She had shattered our friendship, torn it apart with her betrayal. And yet… I couldn’t move.
I should have left. I should have turned my back and let her face the weight of her choices alone. But the way she looked at me, raw and desperate, made it impossible. My body betrayed my mind, my anger warring with the part of me that still remembered what it felt like to be her Zion.
Before I even realized it, I was beside her, slipping into bed. Not because I forgave her. Not because I had forgotten. But because, for tonight, I couldn’t bear to be the one to walk away.
I hadn’t expected my presence—let alone my embrace—to be enough to lull her into sleep. Yet, here she was, curled against me, her steady breaths ghosting over my skin. My body ached to give in, to let sleep take me with her scent filling my lungs. But I couldn’t.
I couldn’t risk Stepdaddy or Mom walking in and finding me there. I suppose I could’ve tried to spin it as me fulfilling my stepbrotherly duty—watching over her, making sure she was safe. But I doubt they’d buy that.
Not when Snowflake had slipped her hand beneath my shirt, her warm palm resting against my abs as if she belonged there.
Now, as I climb the stairs toward her, my heart pounds. Slipping away from her this morning had been torture. I’d been too damn comfortable—too fucking hard—to leave. But I had to. Because I knew the moment she woke up alone, her thoughts would go straight to him.
That bastard didn’t deserve a place in her head. And I hated that I wasn’t there to chase him out of it.
Stepdaddy was unraveling, coming apart at the seams because his daughter had been touched by someone who should’ve never been anywhere near her. I never thought the man had it in him to care about anyone but himself.
I hover outside her door, my knuckles rapping against the wood. Once. Twice. Nothing.
Frowning, I knock again, harder this time. Still nothing. My gut twists, unease creeping in.
“Mum said—” I start as I push the door open, stepping inside before I can think better of it.
My words die in my throat.
She’s sitting on the bed, half-dressed—her bra and pajama shorts doing little to cover the bruises and bite marks littering her skin. The second she sees me, a sharp, panicked shriek escapes her lips. She scrambles for the oversized shirt beside her, yanking it over her shoulders, but it’s too late.
I’ve already seen.
My pulse roars in my ears, drowning out her ragged breaths. My hand trembles, grip loosening around the coffee cup until it spills, dark liquid splattering over the cream carpet. But I don’t even register it.
All I can see is her—bruised, bitten, marked. And the fury inside me turns blinding.
Rage surges through me, my hand trembling uncontrollably, coffee sloshing over the edge of the cup and splattering across her cream carpet. I don’t even register the mess as it quickly spreads, the dark stain mirroring the fury building inside me.
I’m going to fucking kill him.
“Zion...w-what...are you?” Her voice cracks, trembling with raw emotion, and it’s like she’s reached into my chest and gripped my heart.
I try to speak, but the words come out a stuttered mess. “Uh… I—I—” My throat tightens as I watch her, her fragile state threatening to undo me.
“I’m okay,” she says, but it’s a lie, just like all the others. The same lies she’s been feeding me since we found her.
“Bullshit,” I growl, my voice sharper than I intend. The words hang in the air, and her gasp of shock cuts me to the bone. Immediately, I regret it. She tries to hold herself together, but I see the tremble of her lip and the tears pooling in her eyes, and I feel like the world’s biggest asshole.
“I brought you coffee,” I say, stepping forward to cover the tension, to distract myself from the brokenness in her gaze. It’s like looking at the shattered pieces of her heart, and it’s my fault.
“Th-thank you. Where… um… where did you go? I woke up and you—” Her voice falters, her words slipping away, but I can’t let her finish.
“Did you want to be caught?” The words slip out before I can stop them, the image of someone walking in and seeing her, tangled up with me, like a fucking snake, too fresh in my mind.
Her fingers twist in the shirt she’s pulled over herself, trying to hide, but it’s too late.
“N-no, but—”
“Then there’s no but, is there?” My voice is cold, cutting through the air like ice. I don’t want to hear it.
“Did you want your dad to walk in and find us like that? Did you want him to think I was forcing myself on you, too? You’re a liar, after all.”
Her face crumples, and I see the tears that won’t stop.
“Zion, I would never—”
But it’s too late. I can’t stay. I’m already halfway to the door, my mind screaming at me to get the hell out before I do something stupid—something like stripping off and crawling back into bed with her, pretending everything’s fine when it’s clearly not.
I don’t give myself a second to breathe. I storm down the stairs, the need to escape burning through me like wildfire.
“Zion, what’s the matter? Is Winter okay—” Her voice fades as I slam the door behind me, cutting her off mid-sentence. I don’t stop to listen to the worry in her tone.
Throwing myself into my car, I slam my finger onto the start button, the engine roaring to life. But as I glance up toward the window, I catch a glimpse of Mum standing there, her face a mask of concern. I don’t look back.
I throw myself into my car, jabbing my finger into the start button as my eyes catch movement through the hallway window. I glance at Mum, but I can’t bear to look into the confusion and concern I know will be there. Without a second thought, I slam my foot on the accelerator, tearing out of the driveway and heading toward the highway.
The drive to the warehouse feels like it’s over in a heartbeat. Every mile, every turn, brings no relief from the tension coiling in my shoulders or the guilt gnawing at my insides.
The only thing that brings me any comfort right now is knowing Stepdaddy will make sure Wilde pays for this. It might not come in blood—though that’s what I crave—but I know William will make sure that bastard suffers for even thinking about touching his daughter.
I walk toward the massive double doors of the warehouse, my footsteps echoing in the silence. With a swift turn, I shove the key into the lock, and the heavy doors creak open.
The moment I step inside, a bloodcurdling scream rips through the air. Ethan.
A dark satisfaction curls in my chest, cooling some of the rage burning through me. Good. At least he’s already suffering. At least someone is making him feel even a fraction of the pain he’s caused.
For the first time since seeing Winter broken and bruised, I finally take a breath.
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