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There's a silence in the room which for once feels suffocating. The usual comfort and stillness he brings shifts into something neither of us can name. His voice is quieter now, his slurring changed into something softer. He's sobering up, which I can see with the way his body no longer sways. "I shouldn't have come here."

"No, you shouldn't." I stand my ground, even though every part of me aches with the way his face changes back to pain.

The silence stretches again, each painful second of my bedside clock beating in my ear. His hands flex at his sides into small fists that I long to wrap my hands around. I hate that he's the only person in these walls that I seem to trust. I hate that I trust anyone here.

"What happened, Jax?" I hope for honesty. For an explanation as to why he's here and to maybe understand.

He sucks air through his teeth. "I fucked up. I've fucked everything up."

I take a step closer, even though every part of his body screams at me to move away. I ignore it, my hands moving slowly over his fists, our chests almost touching. "You can talk to me."

He pauses. "I feel like I'm drowning, Amora. Before you came here, everything was simple. The guilt only came in my dreams, guilt I'd only remember when I slept. But now, since you, it's creeping in during the day. I feel it in my soul with every breath. The worst part is that when you look at me, it's like you're looking at someone else. Someone who doesn't exist. And I hate that, because I wanna be that man you see. I want to know him, too, but I can't. Because I'm his fucking executioner. I'm the man he shoves contracts at, and before, they were easy. Fuck, some of them were fun. But now, each one is taking a piece of me I can't get back, and fuck, Amora, it hurts. It hurts to care. It hurts to want more." He stays perfectly still, my thumbs stroking along the skin of his hand as we stare into each other's eyes. Every ounce of his pain I feel, every part of Vincent's claim wrapping around both of our throats like nooses we can never remove.

Everything in my mind remains blank. My hands move along his chest, slow and gentle until I reach his face. My thumb rubs along his jawline, everything in the room coming to a pause. My heart is beating so loud in my chest, I swear he'll hear it, too.

I lean on my tiptoes, closing the distance between us, gently pulling his face to mine and softly placing my lips against his. I don't know how or when I decided to kiss him, but at this moment, nothing else feels right. Nothing else feels so easy. This is a choice, and I'd make it every time because it is mine.

He freezes under my touch, his body stiffening as my lips stay pressed against his, until finally he relaxes and kisses me back. Slow and gentle, like he's terrified to break me. His hands find my waist as my lips part to welcome his tongue. He pulls me into him, our bodies connecting. He pulls away for the slightest second, his eyes narrowed as he searches my face. "Why?" he whispers.

"I'm drowning, too, Jax. But being close to you makes it easier to breathe." My words undo him as his mouth finds mine again, but this time it's different. It's hungry, it's wanting. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull him closer to me, needing him just as much as he needs me. Every inch of his touch against my skin sends a heat through me that isn't forced. His tongue colliding with mine as our kiss melts into more.

I'm so lost in this moment that I barely hear the boots outside the door or the voice that sends fear flooding into my soul. The key scrapes against the lock, just loud enough for Jax to hear. He pushes me away, panic in his eyes that match my own.

"You need to go," I rush the words, running to the balcony door. "Go, now!"

"I won't have time." His words are as urgent as my own. The door begins to open, and he drops to his knees, sliding himself under the bed. My chest aches as my heart tries to break through my sternum.

"Hello, my love." Vincent's voice sends a cold shudder through my body and my eyes drop to the floor. Jax is under the bed, and he's about to hear every part of my shame. Vincent steps forward, the smell of his aftershave filling the room as he stops before me. My body is attuned to the memory of him enough for every hair to stand. I keep my eyes on the floor, trying to stabilize my breathing as I'm consumed with fear, which for once isn't what he'll do to me—but what he'll do to us both if he discovers Jax under the bed.

"I didn't expect you to come so early," I whisper.

"Do I need your permission on when I come?" He tilts his head with a kink in his eyebrow.

"No, sorry—no. Of course not. I just…I just didn't prepare," I lie through my teeth, and I hope to God he believes me.

His hand reaches out to my face, cupping my cheek. Thumb tucked under my chin, he pulls my gaze to him. "You're trembling, my love, and I've barely touched you."

I smile. A complete and utter fake smile that I've practiced for every time he touches me. I just hope it's enough to appease him and get him out of here faster. The silence stretches as he studies my face, his head tilting as he pulls me closer by my neck.

"You seem different." I hear the accusation in his voice, his eyes not leaving mine. "What did you do?"

"Nothing, Vincent," I whisper, eyes dropping back to the bed.

Silence fills around us, but it doesn't feel quiet. It feels loud and haunting, the noise from the clock louder than before.

The sound of a limb connecting with a wooden slat breaks it.

I hear it instantly, and by the way Vincent's head jolts around the room, so does he. This is it. This is where we die.

He pushes me away by my face and storms towards the bathroom. "Is someone in here?"

I follow, feet shuffling against the carpet. "What? No." I sound false, even to myself.

He kicks open the bathroom door and I wait outside, chewing on my thumbnail as anxiety settles into my bloodstream. I can hear him picking up the shards of glass and tossing it back into the sink.

"Who the fuck is in here?" he growls as he comes back into the room, heading for the wardrobe. Oh God, he's going to look under the bed. He's going to find Jax. We're going to die. Every dark thought runs through my mind as I begin to think of every way he's going to kill me, of every promise he's made if I ever betrayed him. He rips open the wardrobe doors, searching through every item of clothing he's bought for me. He turns with a death stare, and I know I have to do something, anything, to stop this.

"Vincent," I call out across the room, moving before my feet can root themselves into place. Pressing my palm against his chest, I look into his eyes. "There's no one here but me and you. There's no one else I'd want close to me…" I pause, sucking in a breath, "but you."