Chapter 13 Aslan
Aslan
I shrugged, forcing my shoulders loose like I wasn’t shaking on the inside. “I’m here to have a good time—like everyone else.”
His mouth twisted. “Really?” His eyes raked over me. “Aren’t you a little far from your charity dorm… or your mom’s trailer park?”
My brows slammed down. Rage sobered me up real quick. “Go to hell, dude.”
I grabbed his wrist and tried to shove him off—but either I was drunker than I thought or he was stronger than he looked, because he didn’t move an inch.
“Let go of me and I’ll take off.”
He ignored me.
His grip tightened until I could hardly breathe, my heart starting to beat a little faster.
“So,” he said, voice low and feral, “you wanted to have a good time with James?”
I stared at him, pulse hammering.
“That’s why you sit with him at lunch?” he went on, eyes narrowed, like he’d been chewing on this for days. “So you can make out like two fags and rub each other’s cocks?”
I didn’t want any of that with James, but I also didn’t hate hearing it come out of Garrett’s mouth. Didn’t hate the way he said it—angry, low, like each word tasted bitter. Didn’t hate how he leaned closer as he spoke, like he couldn’t stop himself from closing the distance, like he wanted to swallow the air between us just to punish me.
His cologne wrapped around me, sharp and expensive, mixing with the sweet stink of alcohol and sweat, and it made my head spin harder than the drinks I had. Something reckless sparked in me. Something stupid. Something brave. I smiled right in his face.
“Careful, Garrett,” I murmured. “You are starting to sound jealous.”
“Oh, you wish, lion.”
I inched closer until my voice was barely a whisper. “Maybe it just pisses you off seeing someone else play with your lion.” I tilted my head. “Trying to tame it.”
Something shifted, and his mask cracked for half a second. His eyes went unfocused, glassy—as if my words hit somewhere they weren’t supposed to. His fingers tightened on my throat, and the pressure made my breath stutter.
Then—oh, shit—my body betrayed me. A hard twitch, low in my gut, like my dick had its own brain and had decided now was the perfect time to develop a death wish.
Garrett blinked once. The softness vanished. He scoffed, shaking his head slowly, like I was pathetic for even trying. “That’s what you don’t understand.” His voice dropped, heavy with contempt. “Despite what I call you, you’re not a lion, and you're surely not mine. You’re not anyone’s.”
His gaze cut into me. “You’re just… a sheep. Following me around like some desperate loser. That’s all you’ll ever be.”
The boldness drained out of me as if someone had pulled a plug. And normally, I would’ve laughed it off; normally, I would’ve found something sharp to throw back. But the alcohol had lowered my walls—made every word hit deeper, made it all bleed straight through.
I tried to turn my head away. He wouldn’t let me. His fingers pinched my face and forced me back, so I wasn’t allowed to look away from him.
He stared straight into my eyes. “You’re trash,” he said softly. “Trailer trash. Nothing.”
Then he leaned closer—conspirational. “Evan found out your secret—”
My heart lurched so hard it hurt. No, he couldn’t—
“There was some sealed family scandal,” Garrett continued, his voice almost casual now, like he was discussing grades. “We know it involved a staff member. Then, your mom moved you two away.”
His mouth curled. “So what was it? Was she screwing a teacher…?” His eyes sharpened. “Or were you?”
I swear my whole body froze, like the room tilted, like the air suddenly wasn’t enough. My throat tightened under his hand, and my chest started doing that awful thing—too fast, too heavy, panic clawing up my ribs like it wanted to crack me open from the inside.
I needed my pills.
What happened that day wasn’t my fault. None of it was. Yet, that shame that never left hit me like a sledgehammer.
I didn’t even realize I was crying until the first tear slid down my cheek. I hated it. Hated myself for it, even though I knew better.
Garrett noticed the shift in me and—just for a second—he looked… off. Almost uncomfortable, like something in him didn’t know what to do with what he’d just hit. Like he’d gone too far and it scared him.
Then, his stare dropped to the tear, tracking it like he was watching something fascinating. And—without warning—he leaned in, and his tongue dragged slowly up my cheek, licking the tear away as if it belonged to him.
My skin burned from the contact. A broken sound ripped out of my throat, half gasp, half choke—humiliation hanging on by a single thread.
“Keep crying, baby cub,” he murmured, voice velvet-dark. “I love how your tears taste.”
He watched my eyes, waiting. Waiting for more. Waiting for me to break open so he could drink my pain. But I forced it down. Forced the tears back like swallowing glass. I stared at him hard, refusing—refusing to feed him.
He held my gaze another second, then abruptly let go. I stumbled forward, coughing, breath scraping my throat.
“Get the fuck out of here,” he said quietly, but it filled the entire room like a gunshot.
I didn’t argue. I couldn’t. Twisting the door open, I bolted, running up the stairs, through the club, past bodies and lights and music, and none of it mattered. I kept running outside into the cold air, running until my lungs burned and my legs felt like they were going to snap.
I didn’t stop until I couldn't see or hear the club anymore. I sat on the curb like my bones had turned to water, hands shaking as I pulled out my phone. I texted James fast—too fast, messy fingers, words blurring.
You were wrong. I’m walking back. I’m fine.
Lie.
I stared at the screen a second, then locked it and shoved the phone into my pocket like it had betrayed me too. And then I let the rest of it happen.
The tears fell—silent at first, then harder, like my body had been holding them hostage and they’d finally escaped. All the ones I’d forced back for him. All the ones I wouldn’t let him have.
My chest hurt. My throat hurt. Everything hurt.
With shaky fingers, I pulled a folded piece of foil from my pocket and tipped the contents onto my tongue—tiny pills I swallowed fast, forcing my heartbeat to calm before it could spiral out of control.
I’d gotten too comfortable and actually let myself have fun, forgetting for a second who I was at Crownwell and what I was. A target.
I wiped my face with the sleeve of my shirt, angry at myself for shaking.
No more.
I've lowered my guard once, but I wasn’t gonna make that mistake again.