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It felt… strange. Like something seriously fucked up had happened to me, but there was something worse just on the fringes of my memory. Like my mind was trying to downplay my terror in a feeble attempt to help me through my discomfort.

Because that’s all it was, right?Discomfort. Manageable, bland, felt in mundane situations like when the train was a little too full.

Not vein-chilling, breath-stilling terror. Panic.Unmanageable amounts of horror that made my heart race at the idea of walking back into that bar.

Suddenly, I was very glad I was alone. Relieved that I didn’t have to try and mask my rapidly changing moods with Juniper, who, despite her tenderness and gentle care last night, was still an exceptionally prickly woman.

There was no way I was going back to the bar tonight. Partially because of…

My mind strayed whenever it came too close to the memory of his fingers locking around my wrist, turning immediately into happier thoughts.

It was… jarring.

But I was too emotionally raw to fight it, so I allowed my brain this little kindness.

It wasn’t just the moment and the fear.It was the embarrassment too.

Vi, what kind of insane victim-blaming bullshit is that?

If it had been Kaylee, I’d be telling her that she was being incredibly unfair to herself. And yet here I was, beating myself up because most of the staff and half the clients got a front-row seat to my meltdown after the venom wore off.

And tonight would be the second busiest night of the week.

No. Nope. Not happening.

I’d call in sick tonight. Totally reasonable after being assaulted at work.

Then, I’d wallow in my embarrassment for a bit, let myself feel my feelings, and rally next week. Or I could quit and beg Jay for my job back at the Silver Bullet; at least there I knew that I’d be able to defend myself if I had a problem. Well, Daxton, their bouncer would. But still.

Jay was serious about safety, not that I didn’t trust Dana to keep me safe. Last night had been a freak fucking thing and could’ve happened anywhere. I just… God, this whole thing was such a mess.

I pulled my phone into my cocoon, unlocking it to text the O group chat with my brilliant excuse for not coming in today—a headache—when Dana’s message popped up on my screen.

Dana

Stay home today, don’t worry about the hours. I’d like you to rest. If you need anything, call me.

Warmth invaded my chest, a soft sigh escaping me when I realised I wouldn’t have to say anything—lie, excuse, truth, or whatever.

A hard knock at the door drew me from the comfort of Kaylee’s bed, bare feet meeting the cool hardwood and making me shiver.

If I had to guess, that would be Danny. There’s no way Kaylee didn’t text them the minute I was on the way home. They’d want to make sure I was all good.

I knew my roommate—if you can call the person whose couch you usually slept on your roommate—had already fucked off to get to the garage to work on her car. It didn’t matter that there was freezing rain damn near every night—races didn’t stop for any season.

In layman's terms? Babydoll needed to make sure that her ride was race-ready.

I checked the clock on the stove. It was getting late enough that if she wasn’t showering at the club, she’d be back any minute to rinse off the motor oil and get ready for a night of dancing.

Steeling myself for whatever state Kaylee had worked my sibling into, I padded my way across the room and threw the door open.

“Danny, whatever she told you—” I started, but my placating speech died on my tongue, replaced with a high squeak at the sight of the vampire standing on Kaylee’s ‘Sometimes, the back door is better!’doormat.

Ren was uncharacteristically nervous, holding a cardboard tray with two coffees, free hand raised as if she was going to knock again. She’d dressed in a pair of fitted black trousers, a long grey jacket over what looked like a white T-shirt. Decidedly casual, if not a little too put together, thanks to the layered necklaces around her tattooed throat that matched her silver earrings.

Her eyes trailed over my state of undress, unbrushed hair, and tracks of mascara no doubt still smudging my face from thenight before. The tiny pyjamas I’d thrown on could barely be called shorts, with the snatch of skin at my waist and upper thigh catching the vampire’s eye.

I’d given Juniper my biggest T-shirt and made a mental note to go online and order something that’d be comfier for her before she slept over again.