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“Let go of me, you sick fuck!” I scream, but it’s too late. He slams me onto the ground, knocking the wind out of me. My face throbs from where it made contact with the pavement, and I can already feel blood trickling down my cheek.

“Look at you,” he spits, landing a punch on my jaw. “You’re nothing but a worthless whore.”

“Get the fuck off her!” a voice shouts from nearby, but I barely hear it over the ringing in my ears. All I can focus on is the pain and the man who’s causing it.

The sirens wail, getting closer and closer. Nick’s eyes flicker between the approaching commotion and me. “This ain’t over,” he hisses before sprinting away and disappearing around a corner.

“Miss, are you okay?” A cop rushes to my side, concern etched on his face. I can’t fucking believe this is happening. My whole body shakes, but I force myself to sit up, cradling my throbbing face.

“Y-yeah, I think so,” I manage to choke out through gritted teeth. The pain is relentless, but I’m not going to let it show. Not now.

“An ambulance is on its way,” the officer says, trying to reassure me. Like that’ll fix everything. He only helps me to my feet when the paramedics arrive, and they swarm me like fucking vultures.

“Let’s get you checked out,” one of them says, attempting to guide me towards the ambulance. But I shake my head, refusing to budge.

“Can you just… patch me up here?” I ask, and he raises an eyebrow but nods. They clean and bandage my face right there on the damn sidewalk.

“Can you tell us what happened?” another cop asks. I take a deep breath, steeling myself, and recount the nightmare—running into Nick, calling for help, the chase, and the assault.

“Thank you for your statement,” the cop says gravely. “We’ll do our best to find him.”

“Great,” Imutter, wiping away angry tears. It’s not enough. None of it is fucking enough. I’ll never escape my nightmares.

“Let us walk you back to your hotel,” the first officer offers, and I nod, feeling exposed and vulnerable. I need to get back inside so I can fall apart in peace.

“Thanks,” I mumble to the officers, stepping into my room and closing the door behind me. Alone at last, I lean against the door, letting the tears flow freely as I cradle my bruised face in my hands.

I stumble into the bathroom, my reflection in the mirror a mangled reminder of everything I want to forget. I turn on the shower, letting the hot water scald me, trying to burn away the pain and humiliation. The steam fills the room, fogging up the mirror.Good, I think. I don’t want to see myself like this again.

I step out of the shower, red and raw but still feeling dirty. My whole body aches. I pull on some soft pyjamas and pad over to the bed, collapsing onto it with a choked sob. Why can’t I escape my past? It’s always there, lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce. Fucking Nick. I hope the cops find him and lock him up for good.

I curl up in a ball, hugging my knees to my chest. Tears flow down my cheeks, leaving hot trails on my bruised face. I close my eyes, trying to shut out the world and all its horrors. I manage to rest for a while but not fully sleep.

A sudden knock on the door startles me, and I gasp, my heart pounding hard. Who is it? What if it’s Nick again? No, it can’t be… could it?

“Who’s there?” I demand, voice shaky.

“Darling, it’s Felix,” comes the reply, deep and smooth as velvet.

I scramble to my feet, rubbing at my tired red eyes, and unlock the door. As it swings open, I see him—Felix, tall and brooding, his dark eyes burning with murder. He takes one look at my battered face and clenches his fists, his tattoos swirling around his knuckles like vipers ready to strike.

I flinch as his fingers graze the bruises on my cheek, careful not to hurt me more. “Who did this?” Felix demands, his voice low and dangerous.

“Nick,” I admit, feeling a fresh wave of shame wash over me. “My ex.”

“Full name,” he orders, and I comply without hesitation.

“Nicholas Morgan.”

“Stay here,” Felix warns, his dark eyes burning with rage. “I’ll be back.”

“Wait!” I cry out, grabbing his arm. “Please don’t do anything stupid.”

“Stupid?” he scoffs, shaking off my grip. “No, darling, it’s called justice. And you deserve it.”

Before I can argue, he presses his lips against mine, a gentle kiss that soothes my shattered nerves. When he pulls away, I see the promise etched in his features.

“Stay put,” he orders again, stepping outside the hotel room. The door clicks shut behind him, leaving me alone with my thoughts and fears.