Page 105 of From the Wreckage

Joey eases me onto the mattress, his hands too careful, too gentle, like he’s tucking away a fragile thing. My body sinks against the sheets, too heavy to lift. My arms twitch when I try to push up, but they collapse uselessly at my sides.

“I don’t—” The words rasp from my throat, thick and clumsy. “Don’t want this.”

His face swims above me, golden hair damp, blue eyes too bright. “Relax, Bri. I’ll take care of you.”

No. No.No. My gaze drifts past him, landing on the door. Just a few feet away. Freedom. If I could just… move. My fingers twitch, my legs jerk, but they won’t obey. My body is no longer mine.

Joey’s weight dips the mattress as he lowers over me. His lips graze my neck, hot against my skin. I want to shove him off. To scream. To run.

But my voice is a broken whisper swallowed by the room. “Please… No.”

The word doesn’t stop him.

Hands press and slide. His heavy weight traps me. His touch is everywhere, invasive and wrong. My mind claws against it, tearing at the fog, but something drags me deeper, drowning me in a haze I can’t escape.

Tears burn at the corners of my eyes. They slide into my hair, cold trails against overheated skin.

This isn’t me. This isn’t what I want.

My eyes move to the door again. I try to reach it in my mind, to imagine standing, running, and breaking free of… this. Going home. But my body stays still beneath him, trapped.

And as the haze swallows me whole, one thought screams louder than the rest.

I wish he was Everett.

CHAPTER 76

Brielle

I jolt awake,my stomach rolling, the room spinning in sickening circles. The shadows are wrong, heavy and blurred, and for a second, I don’t even know where I am.

My throat burns. I stumble out of bed, nearly tripping over my own legs, and crash into the bathroom.

The second I hit my knees, bile surges up. I retch until my stomach is empty, until I’m shaking so hard I can barely hold myself upright. My hands clutch the rim of the toilet, slick with sweat, my hair plastered to my face.

When the heaving finally stops, I blink through gritty, swollen eyes—and the realization slams into me.

I’m half-naked. My pants are gone. My underwear, too. Only Meghan’s sweatshirt clings to me, wrinkled and sliding off one shoulder.

My heart seizes, pounding so hard it hurts. I gasp, pulling the sweatshirt tighter around me, like it can erase the evidence. Snippets flash through my head, jagged and broken—Joey’s voice in my ear, the door clicking shut, my body refusing to move. His hands. The weight of him.

“No…” My voice cracks, the sound raw. I choke on a sob, clawing for air that won’t fill my lungs.

I stagger back into my bedroom, briefly wondering how I got here, then decide I don’t care. Not right now. I fumble with the pile of clothes tossed on the floor.Sweatpants.I yank them on, not bothering with underwear, my hands trembling so badly I nearly fall again. I snatch my keys, my phone, and at the last second, my purse, then stagger for the door.

The cool air slams into me as I stumble across the porch. My vision tunnels, the porch and streetlights too bright. I collapse into the driver’s seat of my SUV, my sobs breaking free, racking me until I can’t breathe.

I start the engine with shaking hands, then pull out of the parking lot. The headlights cut across the empty street, slicing through the darkness as I drive.

The highway stretches ahead, endless and black. I cling to the wheel like it’s the only thing keeping me tethered. Tears blur the road, my chest heaving with broken gasps.

I just want to go home.

But Everett isn’t my home anymore. His silence proved that.

There’s only one person left. The only person who’s ever loved me unconditionally. My dad.

The first hour passes in fragments—crying, gasping, flashes of the night clawing at me. Joey’s grin. His voice. The suffocating weight I couldn’t escape.