Page 107 of After Midnight

Grabbing Remi’s bag, I sling it over my shoulders. Then, stooping, I wrap one of my arms around Remi’s back and the other under her knees and lift her gently into my arms. She curls against my chest, small and shaking, and everyone in the room parts for me as I carry her through the doorway and back down the hallway, the rumble of music vibrating in my chest.

Someone opens the door for me, and the security guard gets the passenger’s door on the Jeep so I can ease Remi in. She sniffles as I wrap the seat belt around her and click it into place. And when I go around the other side and get in, closing the door, quiet finally comes over us.

But inside, I’m anything but quiet. My heart still races, and I try not to let Remi see how my hands shake. I reach over slowly, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear, and she leans against my hand, closing her eyes as she takes a shuddering breath.

“I’m right here, Rem,” I whisper to her. “Okay?”

She finally looks up at me, eyelashes still speckled with tears under the dim streetlights. And she whispers, “Seb . . .”

I lean over the center console to press a delicate kiss to her forehead.

And then I drive us home.

BACK AT REMI’S CONDO, I sit on the floor in the bathroom, leaning against the wall, eyes trained on the shower, where steam rises over the shower curtain to make the overhead light look hazy. I can hear Remi moving under the stream of water, but she doesn’t speak. I rest my head back against the wall and close my eyes, flexing my jaw and curling my fingers into fists.

And I feel like this is my fault. Like I should never have let her go back to that place. To that man. If only I’d pushed harder, tried to convince her not to go, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

I wanted to protect her. But I failed.

My chest feels tight, overfull with emotions, and I open my eyes as the water turns off. Slowly, I push to my feet, and I already have a towel in my hands, open and ready, when Remi slides the shower curtain open.

Her makeup has all been washed away, no hint of Mirage left on her face. But the marks are still there, her cheeks swollen and bruised, and the sight of them makes me wish I could pummel that asshole into the fucking dirt.

She steps out of the shower and lets me wrap the fluffy towel around her shoulders. Her body is warm now, and she’s no longer shaking as I walk with her to her bedroom and help her dress in cotton shorts, a tank, and a baggie hoodie—my hoodie, which I now realize she didn’t bring with her when she came to visit me in Cali. It drowns her, hanging to the middle of her thighs, but it seems to bring her some comfort, given the way she pulls the hood up and curls into it when I help her into her bed.

I drop to my knees next to the bed, one hand stroking the mark left on her cheek. “Are you hungry?” I whisper. But she just shakes her head. “What can I do for you, Rem? What do you need?” I feel like a fool for asking, feel so incompetent in this situation.

But Remi just blinks at me and whispers, “Will you hold me?”

Rising from the floor, I get into bed beside her, and she immediately scoots over to huddle against my chest. I hold her close to me, stroking my hand over her head, just feeling the heat of her against me.

After a few moments, voice quiet, she says, “I don’t want to go back there.” Pressing her face to my chest, she whispers, “He ruined it.”

My jaw clenches, and I try to keep my emotions in check. Right now, this isn’t about him. It isn’t even about me. This is about her.

Wrapping my arms around her, I whisper, “You don’t have to, Rem. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

She starts to cry again, and I rub her back, trying to keep my breathing deep and easy, wanting to be a safe place for her, even when the outside world feels dangerous.

“I’m here,” I whisper. Even if I’ve said it a million times, I want her to know it. I want her to know that I’m here tonight, and when she wakes up tomorrow, I’m still going to be here.

Her fingers grip my T-shirt, and I hold her in bed even after her breathing has slowed and deepened, and I’m still awake when the morning sun starts to paint the sky.

chapter 50

Remi

WHEN I WAKE UP, THE first thing I notice is the smell of coffee hanging heavy in the air. It takes me a moment to process why I can smell coffee, since I’m still in bed and obviously haven’t brewed it.

Then I remember.

Seeing James at the club. His body caging me in while his fingers crushed my cheeks against my teeth. Screaming until my throat felt raw. Then Seb.

Seb.

I fling the blanket back and hurry across my room, yanking the bedroom door open, as if maybe I imagined Seb entirely and he’s not actually here. I need to see him. Need to—

I take the few short strides down the hallway, and my kitchen comes into view.