Darryn had destroyed something deep inside and I needed to figure out how to begin fixing it.

I suppressed my mocking laughter, all of it aimed at myself.

Darryn the Destroyer.

Some fairy tale he’d turned out to be.

Turned out he’d been sent to ruin another piece of me.

My chest tightened as sadness pooled in my belly. And that was the truth of it. It made me sad, because I missed him. Missed his face, missed all that arrogance that endeared him to me, the way he joked and laughed. Most of all, I missed the way he’d made me feel.

Sighing, I shoved it off and forced myself to try and enjoy the time with my friends. We ordered, and Amber brought me a beer that I had no stomach for. Still I sipped at it and tried to relax in the boisterous mood of the bar, the lights dimmed and the huge television screens streaming the game. Cheers rang out, everyone there to support our team. People would jump to their feet and grip their heads on the tricky plays and boo when our team fumbled or the vying team gained on them.

No one even seemed to know I was there. I’d disappeared. Become invisible. Just like I wanted to be. I let my mind wander with the noise, and I sank into the first calm I’d felt in days.

“Well, look who’s here.” The voice came from behind, just at my shoulder. It sent fear slicking icy tendrils down my spine, leaving a frozen path in its wake.

I shook and a knot formed in my throat. I hadn’t seen him since that night when I found out what he’d done, when I’d confronted him, trying to be brave when all I’d felt like was a stupid little girl.

All I wanted was to curl into a ball under the table.

Instead I sat stock-still, all except for the rush of goose bumps that lifted in warning on my neck when his vile presence encroached on me from behind. Something triggered my senses, and I was assaulted by memories of the smell in his room, ones I could only attribute to Hunter. Something threatening—vulgar and depraved. It flooded my nostrils and manifested as nausea in my stomach.

“Been too long, Misha.” Hunter laughed, a taunting sound that took me back to that night and how deeply he had hurt me.

Anger and shame billowed through me, but I kept myself still and gave him no response. Maybe if I ignored him long enough he would leave me alone.

I should have known a jerk like Hunter would not give up.

He ran his hand along my shoulder and gripped me by the back of the neck, as if he had some sort of God-given right to touch me.

I cringed and tried to fling off the perversity of his touch.

I choked as he gripped me tighter.

And the tears came.

God, I didn’t want to cry, I didn’t want to be that naive little girl that cowered in front of him.

But I couldn’t stop the tears from breaking free. Heated, they raced down my face and dripped from my chin. I didn’t wipe them away, praying he couldn’t see them in the dark.

“Aw . . . are you crying?” he said as if it were sympathy, but he said it loud, so the people around him would hear. He was begging for an audience, the way he always did.

My hands fisted.

Maybe it was Hunter who was the coward, so insecure he needed to steal the attention of others around him to make him feel good.

Not at my expense. Not ever again.

“L-l-leave me a-a-alone,” I tried to get out of my shaking throat, my tongue all twisted and thick.

The motion seemed to jar Indy from the game, and her eyes narrowed when she turned and found Hunter looming over my shoulder. He paid her no mind, just continued to degrade me.

“Oh . . . come on, M-M-M-M-Misha,” Hunter drew out, digging the knife a little deeper. I could almost feel myself bleeding out. “Know how much you like me. Let’s say you and me go for another round. Maybe this time you won’t be so shy.”

Vomit lifted in my throat, and I swallowed it down.

By now, Hunter had garnered that attention he was always hungry for, and all the tables surrounding us had tuned in on us, curious eyes peering our way. I could feel them, watching.

“I wouldn’t mind a little retake,” he almost shouted, his obnoxious laughter ringing through the room.

“L-l-leave me alone.”

Indy leaned toward him, her brow all pinched up in a scowl. “Take a hint, Hunter. She doesn’t want anything to do with you, so why don’t you get your sorry ass away from her? Like she’d ever let a pathetic asshole loser like you touch her again.”

“Fuck you,” he hissed in her direction, and he twisted his hand in my hair, tight enough that it made me yelp. “The only two people this concerns are me and Misha.”

And I hated . . . hated him that he thought he had even an ounce of control over me, hated that he made my heart pound in fear and my stomach turn with sickness. I refused to allow him this.

“L-l-let me g-g-go.”

“I’ll let you go when I’m ready to.”

My heart hammered with a flutter of energy that suddenly swirled around me, movement at my side that I couldn’t process, but I saw Hunter’s eyes widen with something like shock. A fist rammed into the side of his face. I screamed in both relief and confusion, my eyes going wide as Hunter’s head violently rocked to the side, his hand releasing its hold in my hair as he stumbled back.

“Wrong.” Darryn stood just off to my side, seething, flexing his fists while Hunter rubbed at his jaw. “You let go of her when she tells you to.”

Darryn glanced over at me as if he were in pain, as if seeing me here hurt him just as badly as Hunter had been hurting me.

Completely caught off guard and confused by the rage boiling in Darryn’s body, Hunter seemed flustered. He rubbed at his jaw. “What the fuck, dude? You just fucking punched me.”

Darryn sneered at him. “And I’ll gladly do it again if I ever find you anywhere near her,” Darryn growled. He took a menacing step forward, his jaw clenched tight in warning. “You got me?”

Hunter chuckled when his eyes darted between the two of us, like he was slowly catching on. “Oh, I got it. Your turn to take her for a ride.”

Rage filled Darryn’s eyes, and he rushed forward, gaining speed as he rammed into Hunter. Hunter flew back into the table. The table toppled over, wood crashed on the hard floor, and mugs flew to the ground, shattering when they hit. Hunter landed on top of it all. Everyone scattered, a rush of voices and screams and people jumping out of the way.

Darren dove for Hunter, straddling him as he landed blow after blow. “Stay the fuck away from her, you got me? Stay. Away.” He fisted his hands in Hunter’s shirt, lifted him from the floor, and then slammed him back down. “If anyone ever says one word to her about that video . . . if anyone even thinks about it . . . I’m going to hold you personally responsible. You understand what I’m telling you?”

Hunter groaned, nodding weakly.

I backed away, shaking, trying to catch my breath and make sense of what Darryn had done.

Indy came over and reached to wrap me in her arms.

I shook her off. “I need some air . . . just . . . I’m fine.”

Reluctantly she nodded, then released me. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

I ran outside. Rain poured from above. Freezing cold water drenched my hair and face, soaked through my T-shirt. Overcome, I dropped to my knees, weeping as I bent toward the loose-pebbled ground of the parking lot. Chills rolled through my body, and my teeth chattered.

The door flew open, and Darryn came running out. He skidded to a stop when he saw me on the ground, the anger on his face transforming with remorse and sorrow.

The rain continued to spill from the sky, dousing his hair and soaking into his clothes. Long chunks of his light bangs clung to his forehead, all of his questions sweeping across his face as he watched me with caution.

My boy-man-god. My avenging angel. All that skin wet and glistening under the streetlamps that glinted in the driving rain.

I gasped when he seemed to win whatever war was raging inside him, and he jogged to me and scooped me into his arms. He hoisted me high up and hugged me to his chest. “I’ve got you.”

He began to walk away from the bar, his feet urgent as he carried me without looking back. Behind us, every sound bled away into nothing until all I could hear was the erratic beat of Darryn’s heart where my ear rested against his chest.

He leaned down and tenderly brushed his lips across my forehead. “I love you,” he murmured, never stopping his stride. “Not gonna let him hurt you. Not ever again, Misha. Not ever again.”

His steps never faltered as he carried me toward our neighborhood. He started to turn up the walkway to my house, and I clutched his shirt. “Take me to your house . . . to your room.”

He hesitated, looking between me and the window on the second floor of his house, weighing what was right, maybe weighing if I was thinking clearly or not.

“Please . . . just . . . I need to go there. To face what Hunter did to me there.”

Slowly he nodded in understanding. “Okay.”

He hefted me a little more securely into his arms and quickly made his way into his house. Inside, everything was quiet and dark. He carried me up the stairs, cautious as he twisted his bedroom doorknob without ever letting me go. The door slowly swung open to the room where I’d allowed Hunter to take advantage of me.

But had it ever really been my fault? Was trust such a bad thing?

My pulse was all thready and harsh, clattering around in my rib cage as my spirit came to the realization.

Because I wanted to be that girl, the one who trusted with everything she had and loved with every piece of her spirit.

I didn’t want to be scared or hard or filled with hatred. I didn’t want to miss out on what this world had to offer because there were some in it who would rather hurt than cling to the good.

And as Darryn stood there with me in his arms in his doorway, I knew that was exactly what I was doing, my hands in fists in his shirt and my face buried in the perfect warmth of his chest.

I was clinging to the good.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Darryn carried me in and set me on his bed. He climbed down to his knees, all of his movements watchful and slow, assuring me I didn’t have to be afraid.

No longer would I allow myself to be.

“Let’s get you out of these wet clothes.”

I nodded but made no move to help him as he took charge, unlaced my soaked boots, and pulled them from my feet. He dropped them to the floor, turned to peel off my socks and my jeans. His smile was both timid and reassuring when he glanced up at me. Gently he gathered the hem of my shirt, his eyes filled with devotion as he slowly removed it. Leaving me in my panties and bra, he pulled a fresh T-shirt from his drawer. He said nothing as he settled it over my body.

It swallowed me, it was so big, but I knew it fit perfectly. The way Darryn perfectly fit me.

He shed his own clothes, down to his underwear, then lifted the blankets. “Climb under,” he whispered.

I slipped in, and I felt my entire body sigh in relief when he got in beside me and pulled me into his arms.

He brushed his fingers through my hair, his mouth pressed to the top of my head as he murmured quietly, “Please forgive me, Misha . . . for lying to you the first day I met you. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His lips moved slowly as he brought them to my ear. “I love you . . . I meant it when I told you the other day. I fell in love with this sweet, shy, beautiful girl . . . She’s the same one who was in that video . . . one who trusts and loves and sees the world unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Don’t ever be ashamed of who you are.”

And I let go, sobbing in his arms, let it all out, because he knew—and he still loved me. I cried because I’d spent so much time hating the girl I was instead of embracing her. Instead of finding someone who accepted her.

I guess I needed to accept myself first.

He leaned forward, his touch tender as he wiped all my tears away.

Pulling back, I stared up at him. “I love you, Darryn. So much. I should have told you, too, but I was so scared you wouldn’t want me anymore once you found out.”

“Not possible,” he said, kissing me tenderly. “Not for a second. Not for a day.”

He pulled me impossibly closer, my entire body tucked against the warmth of his and my head pressed to the strong, even beat of his heart. “Sleep, sweet girl. I’m here. And I’m never going to let you go.”