Chapter 45 Pulled Under
(Micah POV)
I stared at Dante’s text for way too long, the glow of my screen painting my dorm room in cold, pale light. My thumb hovered over the message even after I’d already replied. Okay. Just that. Just one word. I didn’t know why it felt like I’d handed him something important, something I couldn’t take back.
My roommate wasn’t in tonight, thank God, because I couldn’t pretend to be normal. Not after everything that happened. My skin still tingled, especially where Dante’s fingers had slid over my shoulder slow, claiming, like he wasn’t checking an injury but marking me. The memory pulsed through me like heat in my veins.
I tossed my phone onto the bed, then immediately reached for it again. I hated how I checked to see if he’d text again. Hated how disappointed I felt when he didn’t. I showered like he told me to. Ate like he told me to. Moved through each action on autopilot because it felt easier than fighting the voice that had settled in my mind his voice.
By the time I crawled into bed, the room was silent except for my heartbeat, which felt too loud. But sleep didn’t come. I kept replaying Max’s face in the hallway hurt, scared, angry all at once. The way he grabbed my wrist and begged me to tell him the truth. But I didn’t tell him anything. I’d stepped away. Not toward him… Toward Dante. Why? Why did I do that?
I pressed my palms over my eyes, trying to block out the memory. “Because you feel safe,” I whispered into the dark. “Because you’re God, what are you doing to me?” I could still feel Dante’s breath on my neck from earlier, warm and slow, just before he told Max to walk away. The way he didn’t raise his voice but still made Max retreat. The way he touched my shoulder after just a thumb brushing my skin and every thought in my head melted.
This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t good. But my body didn’t care. I turned on my side and curled up, knees pulled to my chest. For a moment the silence felt heavy enough to smother me. Shapes in the dark formed edges I didn’t like corners of the room turning into shadows with teeth, the way they always did when my anxiety got bad.
And then the nightmare started before I even fell asleep. I wasn’t on my bed anymore. I was in the gym dark, silent except for a single bouncing echo from somewhere I couldn’t see. My breath fogged in front of me even though the air was warm. Then I heard footsteps behind me.
“Dante’s voice. Low. Calm. Too calm. I turned, and there he was, standing in the middle of the court with a single spotlight above him. Everything else was pitch black. When he tilted his head, the shadows deepened around him, stretching like they were alive. “Come here,” he said.
My feet moved without permission. One step. Then another. But something grabbed my arm hard. I looked back. Max. His face was pale, eyes wide with terror. “Don’t. Micah, don’t go to him. He’ll pull you under. Please.” Dante’s voice cut through the dark like a blade. “Let go.” Max held tighter. Pain shot through my wrist. “Micah, listen to me he wants to control you...” But Dante took a step forward, and everything around us trembled. The court shook like an earthquake. The darkness behind Dante surged, spilling across the floor like liquid ink.
“Come here,” Dante repeated, voice deeper now. “You know where you belong.” Max pulled. Dante pulled. My chest tightened. My vision blurred. “Please,” Max whispered. “Mine,” Dante whispered. The darkness swallowed everything.
I shot awake with a gasp. My whole body was shaking. My shirt clung to me with cold sweat, and my pillow had fallen to the floor. For a few seconds, the room didn’t feel real. I couldn’t even breathe right.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. My hand moved before my mind caught up, like muscle memory. I grabbed the phone with trembling fingers. One new message. From Dante. “Sleep.” Just that. No question mark. No explanation. No softness. But I felt myself exhale, something loosening in my chest. The panic in my ribs eased instantly too instantly and shame crept up my throat.
How did he know? How did he always know when I needed something? I typed back before I could stop myself. “Trying.” My thumb hovered over the send button for a full second. I knew I shouldn’t. I knew it made me look… dependent. Weak. But the message sent anyway.
Ten seconds passed. Twenty. Then my phone buzzed again. “I’m here.” That was all it took. My breath hitched, my heartbeat slowing and racing at the same time. I curled around my phone like it was an anchor, pulling in air until my chest stopped hurting.
He wasn’t here physically. He didn’t have to be. Just those two words wrapped around me like arms. This was wrong. Every part of me knew that. But the part of me that still felt Dante’s fingers on my skin his hands guiding me on the court, his body close enough to steal my breath didn’t care. That part wanted more. Wanted him.
I lay back down, phone on my chest, eyes staring at the ceiling. My voice cracked when I whispered, “What are you doing to me…” My phone buzzed again. “Get some rest, Micah. I’ll see you tomorrow.” The message wasn’t sweet. Wasn’t gentle. It was a promise. A claim.
And despite everything despite the fear, the nightmares, the confusion I felt myself smile, small and helpless. I turned off the lamp and let the dark settle again. This time, it didn’t feel like drowning. It felt like sinking into warm water. Into something I shouldn’t want. Into someone I shouldn’t trust. But I did. God help me, I did.
And as my eyes finally drifted closed, the truth settled over me like a blanket I couldn’t shake off: Dante’s voice wasn’t just in my head anymore. It was inside me. And I didn’t know if I wanted to escape it.