Chapter 6

The bottle spun, landing on Jesse. She chose dare.

Tiffany giggled. "I dare you to give the sexiest man in the room a real, passionate kiss."

Jesse blushed, looking coyly at Brayden. "Oh, I don't know... Kianna's here. I wouldn't want to make her uncomfortable."

All eyes turned to Kianna.

"It's fine," Kianna said, her voice a monotone. "Do whatever you want."

Brayden's jaw tightened. He looked at Kianna, a dark, unreadable expression in his eyes. Then he turned to Jesse, pulled her close, and kissed her.

It wasn't a dare. It was a punishment. A deliberate, public performance of his choice.

A piece of paper, a cocktail napkin, fluttered from the table and landed at Kianna's feet. It seemed to mock the wreckage of her heart.

She stood up and walked away, needing air. She found a deserted rooftop terrace. The cold night air was a relief.

But she wasn't alone for long. Tiffany and two other women followed her out.

"Think you can just walk away?" Tiffany sneered, blocking her path.

"What do you want?" Kianna asked.

"We want you to know your place," another one said. "You're a leech. Did you sleep your way into his life when he was vulnerable?"

They surrounded her, their faces twisted with scorn. They pushed a glass of whiskey into her hand. "Drink up, little cook. It's probably the most expensive thing you've ever touched."

They forced the glass to her lips, spilling the liquor down the front of her dress. The alcohol burned her throat and churned in her empty stomach. She choked, stumbling back.

She fell to the ground, her head hitting the concrete. The world spun.

Through the haze, she saw one of the women pull something small and sharp from her purse. A pocketknife.

"Jesse was too soft on you," Tiffany said, her voice a low growl. "A little scar will be a good reminder to stay away."

She felt a searing, unbelievable pain on her back. They were carving something into her skin. A word. Whore.

Tears of pain and humiliation streamed down her face. Her hand fumbled for her phone. With trembling fingers, she dialed 911.

"911, what is your..."

The phone was kicked from her hand.

Her vision blurred. Through the glass doors of the terrace, she could see Brayden. He had finished his kiss with Jesse. Jesse was now nestled in his arms. He looked happy. He hadn't even noticed she was gone.

She tried to scream his name, but her throat was raw, and only a dry croak came out.

He used to protect her. He once fought a man twice his size who had harassed her at the diner. Now he was kissing another woman while his new friends tortured her.

Another slice of the knife. Blood soaked through the back of her dress. She felt cold, so cold.

The world was fading to black. The last thing she saw before she passed out was Brayden's face, his eyes finally finding hers, his expression shifting from contentment to shock, to a flicker of what looked like panic.

She woke up in the hospital again. The pain in her stomach was immense. A nurse told her they had pumped her stomach. Alcohol poisoning. They had also stitched the deep cuts on her back.

She woke again in the middle of the night. Brayden was asleep in the chair next to her bed. He looked haggard, his hand gripping hers even in sleep.

He woke with a start when she stirred.

"Kianna," he rasped, his eyes red-rimmed. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know they would go that far."

She looked at his tired face, at the genuine distress in his eyes, and felt nothing. It was too late.

"It doesn't matter," she whispered.

"I have to go," she said, her voice weak but firm.

He stared at her for a long moment, then nodded slowly. He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a document.

"Before you go," he said, his voice heavy. "I need you to sign this."

She looked at the paper. It was a legal document. A non-disclosure agreement and a legal waiver. A settlement.

"What is this?" she asked, though she already knew.

"It's a settlement," he said, avoiding her eyes. "You shouldn't have called the police. Tiffany's father is a big investor. They're just kids who had too much to drink. Jesse came to me, crying. She begged me to make this go away."

He was asking her to forgive the people who had assaulted her, who had carved a slur into her skin. For Jesse. Always for Jesse.

Her entire body trembled. "And what about me?" she whispered, the words shaking. "The cuts on my back? The alcohol they poured down my throat? Am I just supposed to forget that? Am I supposed to be grateful I'm still alive?"

He flinched. "Kianna, please. Don't make this harder than it has to be."