I curled into a ball, knees pressed to my chest, arms wrapping around my trembling body. The cold floor was unforgiving, a harsh contrast to the burning shame that consumed me. My throat was raw, my lips swollen and bruised, but it was my heart that ached the most-splintered into pieces so small I couldn't even feel it anymore.
Judas was gone. He left me lying here, broken and discarded like I was nothing. I wasn't even a person to him. I was a possession. A toy he could break over and over again just to prove a point.
Tears welled up in my eyes, hot and thick, sliding down my cheeks as silent sobs racked my body. My fingers clutched at the torn fabric of my sweater, but it offered no comfort. I was exposed-physically, emotionally, entirely. I could feel every bruise, every mark of his claim still searing on my skin.
I should hate him. God, I do hate him. But I hate myself more for not fighting harder. For letting him take from me what little I had left.
Minutes passed, or maybe it was hours. Time no longer mattered. I was lost in the spiral of pain, guilt, and devastation that clawed at me from every side.
Then I heard it. The soft creak of the door opening.
My body tensed, fear coursing through me. Was he back?
I didn't have the strength to look up, didn't have the energy to face whatever new torment awaited me. I just stayed there, curled on the floor, hoping if I didn't move, I could disappear.
I flinched as something heavy and warm dropped over me. My heart skipped, panic flaring. I looked up in surprise, my blurred vision clearing just enough to see him.
Kyle.
He stood there, his back stiff, eyes locked on the window as if he couldn't bear to look at me. His face was hard, jaw set in that familiar cold, unreadable way. The coat he'd thrown over me was black-just like Judas's. For a second, I thought it was the same one.
My fingers trembled as they brushed the fabric. It was too warm. Too soft.
Kyle said nothing. The silence between us was deafening. I sat there, clutching his coat like a lifeline, still too shaken to speak.
Finally, he broke the silence, his voice cold and detached. "Don't mess with him. This is the last warning."
I scoffed, the bitterness in my chest bubbling up to the surface. "When will this end? When?" My voice cracked, but I didn't care. I had nothing left to lose.
He didn't turn to face me, his hands buried deep in his pockets, his expression hidden. His shoulders were stiff, and for a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer.
Then, his voice cut through the silence. "Get ready. I'll drop you at your college."
I blinked, disbelief lacing my voice. "He's letting me?"
Kyle's head shifted slightly, just enough to give me the briefest glance. His eyes were hard, impassive. "Do you not want to?"
"I mean… yes, but…" I trailed off, confusion swirling in my mind. Judas never let me out of his sight unless it was on his terms. At least, not after last night. This couldn't be real.
Kyle turned back towards the window, the tension in his body coiling tighter. "I don't have an answer to this," he said, his voice clipped. "Get ready, unless you have some other plans."
His words were dismissive, uncaring, like this was just another task he had to complete. But there was something else in his tone-something guarded. He was hiding something.
I nodded, barely able to find my voice. "Okay." My voice was small, shaky, but I managed to get to my feet. My legs were unsteady, and I could feel the soreness in every muscle, every inch of my body that Judas had ravaged.
I wrapped Kyle's coat tighter around myself, the warmth almost overwhelming. It smelled faintly of him-a clean, sharp scent that was nothing like the suffocating musk of Judas.
As I walked back into the bedroom to change, my mind raced. What was happening? Why was Kyle suddenly helping me? He was always distant, always cold-never getting involved. But today… he threw me his coat. He told me to get ready. He didn't look at me when I was at my lowest.
Why?
The thoughts spiraled as I quickly changed into the clean clothes I found, my hands still trembling from the weight of everything that had happened. The devastation inside me was overwhelming. Short breaths. Quick, shallow. I was drowning in emotions I couldn't even name.
Kyle had always been an enigma-loyal to Judas, ruthless, and yet… there were moments. Tiny flickers. Times when his cold exterior cracked, just for a second. Like now.
I don't know what was more unsettling-the fact that he was helping me or the fact that I couldn't understand why.
My thoughts were scattered, jumping from anger to fear to guilt, all crashing against each other in a tidal wave of pain.
I glanced at my reflection in the mirror-a girl I barely recognized stared back at me. Hollow eyes. Tear-streaked cheeks. A broken, shattered version of who I used to be. I hated this. Hated how I looked. Hated that Judas had reduced me to this.
And I had let him.
The moment I decided to sleep with him? Did he not hear what he was saying? I slept with him? He practically forced me. Manipulated and blackmailed me.
I wiped my face, swallowing the lump in my throat. I couldn't let him keep breaking me. Not anymore.
With trembling hands, I opened the door and stepped back into the living room where Kyle stood, his back still to me. The air between us felt heavy, suffocating.
"I'm ready," I said quietly.
Kyle nodded, not turning around. "Let's go."
And just like that, he was back to being the distant, stoic soldier. No emotion. No warmth. Just ice.
But something had shifted between us. Something I couldn't quite name.