Page 46 of Phantom Flower

Dimitri’s jaw tightened. “It wasn’t me.”

I laughed, but it came out as a sob. “Who else? There was no one there! It was just us in the middle of fucking nowhere and now everyone has a video of me—” My voice cracked. “Of me on my knees like some… some whore—”

“Rei.” He said it firmly. “Look at me. It wasn’t me. I would never film that. I’d tell you if it was.”

I could not think straight. My chest hurt so badly I thought I was having a heart attack.

Without thinking, I grabbed his arm - the one braced against the wall beside my head - and dug my nails in hard. I felt the skin break under my fingers.

Dimitri stayed there, letting me claw into him like my panic was something he could absorb.

“My mom,” I whispered. “She’s going to see it. Daniel’s going to see it. Everyone’s going to know what I—” I could not even finish the sentence.

Dimitri’s free hand came up and cupped the side of my face, his thumb brushing under my eye where tears were already falling.

“I won’t let this get out,” he said. “I promise. I’ll shut everyone up. I’ll find out who filmed it and I’ll make sure it disappears. Your parents won’t know. No one important will know. I’ll handle it.”

I dug my nails deeper into his arm, feeling more blood coat my fingertips. He still did not stop me.

“Why would someone do this?” I asked. “Why would they film that? It wasn’t even—” I cut myself off before I said too much.

Dimitri’s eyes darkened like he knew exactly what I was thinking.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But I’m going to find out. And when I do, they’re going to regret ever picking up that fucking phone.”

I leaned my head back against the wall, still struggling to breathe. My chest kept hitching with these awful gasps. I felt like I was back in that car one year ago.

Except this time, it was not my father dying.

It was me.

“I hate this,” I whispered. “I hate that everyone saw me like that. I hate that they think I’m just some slut who lets you—” My voice broke again. “I’m not. I’m not like that.”

Dimitri’s thumb kept stroking my cheek.

“I know,” he said. “You’re not.”

I laughed weakly, more tears slipping down my face. “You don’t know shit about me.”

“I know enough,” he murmured. “I know you wear flowers in your hair because they make you feel safe. I know you’d rather starve than eat at home with your stepfather. I know you’d punch someone twice your size if they touched your friend. And I know you’re not a slut, Rei. You’re just mine.”

The possessiveness in his voice should have scared me.

Right now, it was the only thing keeping me from completely falling apart.

I kept my nails buried in his arm, grounding myself in the warmth of his blood under my fingertips. It was sick. I knew it was sick.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, even though I did not know what I was apologizing for. For clawing him? For existing? For letting him see me like this?

“Don’t be,” Dimitri said.

I let out a shaky breath and rested my forehead against his chest without thinking. I was still crying. I was still struggling to get enough air. But his heartbeat under my ear was helping me.

“I’m scared,” I whispered.

Dimitri’s hand slid into my hair, careful where the flower used to be.

“I know,” he said.