26. Derek's Destiny

Destiny’s confession of a haunting past forces Derek into a battle with his own demons, as his love for her pushes him to the brink of revenge.

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Trigger Warning:

This chapter contains sensitive content that may be difficult for some readers. Topics include graphic depictions of sexual assault, physical violence, trauma, and discussions of self-defense. The story delves into the emotional aftermath of these events, including the impact of guilt, shame, and coping with the consequences of life-altering decisions. Please proceed with caution if any of these themes are triggering for you. Your well-being is important. If you need to step away, take care of yourself, or seek support, please do so.

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DESTINY

I couldn’t breathe.

My chest felt tight, as if my lungs were collapsing in on themselves, as if the air around me had thickened, choking me from the inside out. The weight of my confession was heavier than anything I’d ever felt. It crushed me, suffocated me, leaving me trembling in the bed, my body still shaking from both the aftermath of the orgasms Derek had pulled out of me—and the truth I had just unleashed.

I killed someone.

The words still echoed in my mind, like a broken record stuck on repeat, scratching at the edges of my sanity. I never meant to say it out loud. I never meant for him to hear it. For anyone to hear it.

But Derek... God, he had dragged it out of me, pulled the darkest piece of me to the surface with his hands, his voice, his strokes, his relentless demands for the truth. And now, I couldn’t take it back. There was no erasing the words that had ripped through the room, no pretending they hadn’t shattered everything between us.

Tears burned at the corners of my eyes, spilling over onto the pillow as I lay there, barely able to move. My body ached—raw, used, exhausted. My heart pounded in my ears, and I felt a crushing sense of vulnerability, of exposure, like I had been stripped bare in a way that had nothing to do with the physical.

Derek’s presence was overwhelming beside me, even though he hadn’t said a word since I screamed the truth. He hadn’t moved either, but I could feel him. I could feel his gaze burning into me, watching every broken breath, every tear that fell from my eyes, every inch of me that trembled under the weight of my own guilt.

I couldn’t face him. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Destiny.” His voice was low, rough, but not with the same heat it had carried before. It was softer now, almost... gentle.

But I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t.

My fingers clenched into the sheets, gripping them like they were the only thing keeping me anchored to reality. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to disappear into the mattress, to sink into the void where I didn’t have to face what I had just done.

“Look at me,” Derek commanded, but there was an edge of restraint in his voice now, as if he was trying to hold back. Trying to stay calm, when everything between us was about to snap.

I couldn’t. My throat tightened, a sob threatening to choke me.

“I... I can’t,” I whispered, my voice barely a breath, trembling like the rest of me.

“Baby it’s me, let me see you,” he said, and this time, there was no room for argument. He shifted beside me, his hand gripping my shoulder, turning me gently but firmly onto my back until I was facing him.

I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to meet his gaze. But I could feel him hovering over me, his presence like a storm ready to break.

“Open your eyes,” he demanded softly.

Tears slipped down my cheeks as I slowly forced my eyes open, meeting the full intensity of his stare. His dark eyes were locked on mine, and there was something there I couldn’t read—something that terrified me. But it wasn’t anger. It wasn’t disgust.

It was something deeper.

“I can’t lose you,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “But I know I just did.”

Derek’s hand reached for the one he’d put a ring on, his jaw clenching as he shook his head slowly. “No,” he said, his voice low, firm. “You don’t get to decide that.”

My chest ached with the weight of his words, and I could feel my heart cracking under the pressure of it all. How could he still want me after this? After knowing what I had done?

“I killed someone, Derek.” My voice was barely a whisper, but the words felt heavier than anything I had ever spoken. “How can you look at me the same way after that?”

His eyes never left mine, steady and unflinching. “Because I know you, Destiny. I know the woman I fell in love with. Whatever happened, whatever you did, it wasn’t without reason. You wouldn’t just break like that unless something or someone pushed you to make that decision.” His voice was low, full of conviction, but underneath it was a tremor of fear, like he was bracing himself for the weight of what I hadn’t said yet.

I shook my head, my vision blurring as tears slid down my cheeks, hot and unchecked. My breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, the truth clawing at my chest. “You don’t understand—”

“All I need is for you to trust me,” he cut in, his voice stronger, sharper now. The kind of voice that didn’t leave room for doubt. “To let me in. I don’t care what it is, Des. I don’t care what you’ve done. I’m not judging you, and I’m damn sure not walking away. You get that? I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, no matter how dark shit gets.”

The way he said it, like a vow, like a promise carved in stone, should’ve made me feel safe. But all I could feel was the crushing guilt, the weight of what I’d done pressing down on me, threatening to choke me.

“I deserve to be punished,” I whispered, my throat burning, raw with the truth. “For what I did... If Arnold tells, I deserve whatever happens to me.”

Derek leaned in closer, his breath warm against my face, his hands firm on my shoulders. “No, baby. That’s not how this goes. I’m here now.” He paused, his eyes softening just enough for me to feel the depth of his conviction. “I’ll protect you from Arnold, the law. Even from yourself.”

How could he still be sitting here? How could he still look at me like this after everything? After I had just confessed to killing someone?

I didn’t deserve him. I didn’t deserve this kind of love.

But there he was, holding me, grounding me, refusing to let me fall apart.

“I’ll never leave you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against my forehead.

Tears fell from my eyes as I clung to him, my body shaking, my heart breaking under the weight of my confession. I didn’t know how to move forward from this. I didn’t know if I even could.

“I just need you to tell me everything, Destiny. Please.” His voice softened, a quiet plea beneath the strength he usually carried, but I could hear the desperation in it now. It cut deeper than anything else.

My throat tightened, the words tangling together as they tried to claw their way out. I wasn’t ready for this, wasn’t ready to pull it all out in front of him—bare and ugly. But I could feel Derek's eyes on me, his hand resting on my trembling skin, waiting, pulling me back to that night with a silent, unrelenting need. I had no choice as I laid bare, naked physically and emotionally, my body still trembling under the weight of what I had just confessed. His

And then, with my heart pounding in my chest, I started to speak. His grip tightened on me, like he could feel the pain still lingering beneath my words.

"It was my senior year of college," I began, my voice barely a whisper. "I hadn’t seen you in years... you were gone, living your life out there, and I was just trying to survive mine. I was lonely, Derek. So fucking lonely…”

I didn’t even mean to watch it. I hadn’t thought about Derek like that for years—at least, that’s the lie I fed myself.

I’d done everything I could to erase him from my life, from my mind. But Derek was like a stain, one you can’t scrub out no matter how hard you try. His voice, his face, his touch—it lingered, haunted me, even though it had been years since he shattered me. Broke me in half with a single phone call, telling me how he was fucking anything that moved, as if it was nothing.

When I hung up that night, I threw up until I thought my body was going to collapse. I was sick to my stomach, doubled over on the floor, sobbing and retching, my heart in pieces. I hadn’t seen him in almost six months by then. Six long, aching months of missing him every day, of wondering where the hell he was, what he was doing, and why he wasn’t with me.

We’d been inseparable before that. Every day, every moment, we were together in Juniper. Except for when he got sent to juvie. And even then, I waited. I wrote to him, called him whenever they let me. I was there, always. And when he signed that deal, I thought we were in this together. But signing that contract made him inaccessible. I’d call, and most of the time, he didn’t even pick up anymore. He was always at the studio, or on some photoshoot, or—apparently—on top of some girl.

The night he finally confessed, I was done. It didn’t even feel real, hearing him say it so casually, confirming every suspicion that had gnawed at me for months.

But it broke me. I hated him. God, I hated him so much I could taste it. But I loved him too, and that was the worst part. The love wouldn’t just go.

I tried to block him on everything. His number. Social media. Deleted every picture of us on my feeds, every reminder of him. But Derek—no, D-Truth—was everywhere. His songs were on every radio station, his songs blasted in cars around Juniper, his face splashed across every billboard, every magazine. He had taken over the world, and even though I tried to run, there was no escaping him.

So when that video popped up in my feed, I froze. Just seeing his name there, the familiar footage of him performing, brought it all back. Every single memory I’d tried to bury. I knew I shouldn’t have clicked it. I told myself don’t do it, but my hand moved on its own.

Just one click.

That’s all it took for everything to come rushing back like a tidal wave. The late nights, the way his laugh used to fill up a room, the smell of his skin when he’d pull me into his arms. Back then, he wasn’t D-Truth, the superstar, the one everyone wanted a piece of. He was just Derek. My Derek.

I wasn’t prepared for the flood of feelings that hit me. The ache of missing him so much it felt like a physical pain. The anger that still burned in my chest every time I thought about him and those girls. The love that I could never quite get rid of, no matter how hard I tried.

I sat there on the edge of my bed, staring at the screen, watching him perform. The crowd was screaming his name, but all I could hear was the thrum of my heartbeat, the weight of every unsaid word between us. I should’ve turned it off. I should’ve stopped right then and there, but I didn’t.

And that’s when Jake walked in.

“I thought you didn’t care about him anymore,” Jake’s voice sliced through the air, jagged and sharp. My stomach dropped, my hand fumbling, trying to scroll away from Derek’s face, but it was too late. He saw.

I looked up, my breath catching in my throat, the room shrinking under the weight of his stare. Jake’s eyes were already locked on the screen, his face twisting as Derek’s voice poured from the speakers. His jaw clenched tight, the muscles in his neck tensing, and I could see the storm brewing in him. That familiar darkness creeping into his eyes like a slow-burning fuse.

Jake wasn’t my boyfriend, not really. He was just another guy I tried to use to fill the void Derek had left. A lot of guys blurred together in those years at college—anyone who could make me feel wanted, even for a little while. Derek had abandoned me, leaving this gaping, hollow space in my chest that ate at me like a hunger I couldn’t satisfy. And being away from Juniper for the first time only made the loneliness worse. I was untethered, floating in a world where no one knew the real me, and I was desperate for something, someone to hold on to.

Jake Hamilton fit the bill. Blonde-haired, green-eyed, he came from money—the kind that didn’t flinch at Ivy League tuition or luxury vacations. He was popular, always the center of attention, and when he showed interest in me, I was surprised. I’d never even seen him date a Black girl before. But one afternoon, while I was sitting out on the yard with some friends, Jake walked right up to me, like it was nothing, like we were already something. It wasn’t long before we were “hanging out,” which really meant late-night visits to my dorm room, a lot of sex, and me helping him study for classes he barely cared about.

But Jake had this weird obsession with Derek—always bringing him up, always asking questions I didn’t want to answer. I’d tell him over and over again that I hadn’t seen or spoken to Derek in years, but he never believed me. He’d ask if I was still fucking him. If I bought something new, he’d sneer and ask if Derek bought it. He hated Derek, yet it felt like he couldn’t stop thinking about him. Like Derek was a ghost hanging between us, haunting him more than me.

“I don’t.” The lie was bitter on my tongue. “Jake, it’s nothing,” I said quickly, but my voice betrayed me—too shaky, too weak. I could feel the tension rising between us, thickening the air in the room. “It’s just an old video of Derek. I wasn’t even—”

“Derek.” He spat the name out like poison, his voice low, dangerous. “You mean D-Truth. Your ex. The one you never fucking got over.”

“I am over him!” I spat, the words sharp enough to cut.

“Then why the hell are you sitting here watching his videos?”

“It just popped up on my feed,” I said, my voice wavering, knowing it wasn’t enough. Not for Jake.

“What the fuck ever.” His words were bitter, soaked in alcohol and anger.

The bitter smell of gin hung around him like a cloud, and I could already tell this wasn’t going to be easy. The minute he walked in, stumbling, dropping his keys with a clatter, I knew he’d been drinking. And I hated it. The liquor always brought out the worst in him—erratic, mean, unpredictable.

I sighed, watching him toss his stuff down, trying to avoid the fight I knew was coming. But tonight, I wasn’t in the mood to play games. I’d called him over for one reason—to end whatever toxic mess we’d been tangled up in. I was tired. Tired of being used, of being someone’s secret. Tired of not being enough to even be acknowledged.

Before he could settle in, I squared my shoulders and looked up at him. “Look, before you get comfortable—whatever this is between us, let’s just end it.” My voice was steady, but inside, my nerves were twisting.

Jake looked at me like I’d told him a joke. He chuckled, that low, mocking laugh that sent a chill up my spine. “You serious?” he slurred, shaking his head like I was out of my mind.

“I’m serious, Jake.” I crossed my arms, standing firm even though the smell of gin made my stomach churn. I just wanted him gone.

“We can’t break up,” he scoffed, leaning against the wall like it was holding him up. “We were never together.”

That hit harder than I wanted it to. I knew what we were—nothing real, nothing that mattered. But hearing him say it so casually, like I meant nothing, made my chest tighten. I swallowed hard and shrugged, trying to shake it off.

“I know that,” I replied, my voice quieter, but still steady. “That’s why I said whatever this is.”

Jake’s face twisted into a smirk, the bitterness seeping into his voice as he leaned closer, his eyes narrowing.

“You think this is gonna get him back, huh? D-Truth? He’s not coming back for you. He’s never coming back for you.” He let out a cold laugh, the words dripping with cruelty. “You’re used up, damaged goods, Des. You think he’d want you after getting passed around campus?”

The words sliced through me, sharp and unexpected. The way Jake said it, the way he spat those words out like they were some kind of truth I needed to hear, it stung in a way I wasn’t prepared for.

“I’m not someone who has been passed around and I don’t want Derek,” I mumbled, my voice shaky, barely audible. It was a lie, one I wasn’t sure I believed. My eyes dropped to my phone, thumb scrolling through the screen without really seeing anything. But all I could think about was Derek—wherever he was in the world right now, probably halfway around the globe, living a life I wasn’t a part of anymore.

Before I knew it, Jake grabbed the front of my sweatshirt, yanking me to my feet like I weighed nothing. His grip was iron, his breath hot and heavy with gin as he held me there, his eyes darkening, face turning red with rage. I could feel the heat radiating off him, burning away any space between us.

I froze. My heart raced, pounding against my ribs like it was trying to escape.

“Jake, stop,” I whispered, my voice catching in my throat.

“Stop?” He barked a laugh, a cruel, humorless sound that sent chills down my spine. “Stop what, Destiny? Stop pretending I don’t see what’s really going on here? You’re still hung up on him. You’re using me to pass the time, to fill the gap until you run back to your ghetto rapper boyfriend.”

The words dripped with venom, each one meant to sting.

“I haven’t seen him in years,” I said, trying to steady my voice, trying to make him see the truth—or at least what I wanted him to believe. My body trembled beneath his grip, but I stood my ground, even as his eyes bore into mine. “It’s not like that.”

“Bullshit.” His breath came out in harsh bursts, laced with gin and something darker. The jealousy twisted him, turning him into someone I didn’t recognize. His eyes were wild, consumed by an anger that had been brewing for months, maybe even years. “You’re still in love with him. Just admit it.”

“I’m not!” My voice cracked, raw with desperation as I pushed him away, my hands shaking, my body trembling. I backed up, my legs hitting the edge of the coffee table behind me. I felt the sharp edge dig into my skin, but the pain barely registered. All I could focus on was Jake, the fury burning in his eyes like wildfire, closing in on me.

Before I could react, he lunged at me again, grabbing my arm hard enough to bruise. His fingers dug into my skin, his grip unrelenting.

“You think I don’t see it?” he growled, pulling me closer, his face inches from mine. “You think I don’t notice the way you look whenever his name comes up? Whenever they play his songs at parties. You think I’m stupid?”

“Let go of me, Jake! You’re drunk!” My voice broke as I tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t release me. His grip tightened, squeezing the air out of my lungs, fear clawing its way up my throat. My pulse thundered in my ears, drowning out every thought except one: I had to get away.

His face twisted, full of rage I had never seen before. He shoved me hard, and I stumbled backward, crashing into the coffee table. Pain exploded in my side as the glass top shattered beneath me, shards flying in every direction, slicing into my skin. I gasped, trying to push myself up, but my body felt heavy, weak. My mind was spinning, everything happening too fast, too violently.

Jake loomed over me, his shadow swallowing the room. His face was twisted, wild, the fury turning him into something unrecognizable. He grabbed my shoulders and shook me, hard, so hard I thought my bones might splinter beneath his grip.

“Admit it!” he roared, his voice booming, shaking the walls. His hands dug into my skin, his nails biting into me like claws. “Admit you’re still in love with him!”

Tears stung my eyes, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I fought to breathe, to push the words out, but the air felt too thick, too heavy. All I could do was look up at him, terrified, desperate for him to stop.

But he didn’t stop. He shook me harder, his eyes wild, as if he was trying to rip the truth out of me by force.

“Jake, please, stop!” My voice came out hoarse this time, broken. But the second I begged, something in him shifted, something darker, meaner.

“You know why guys even talk to you?” His words were slick with venom, each one more vicious than the last. He crouched down, looming over me like a shadow. “Because they know you used to be D-Truth’s girl. They wanna see what’s so special about you. Turns out, it’s nothing.”

“Jake, no—” I whimpered, trying to scramble back, but he grabbed me by the shoulders, flipping me onto my stomach with a strength that made my body feel small, fragile.

I felt the sharp sting of glass digging into my skin, and then his weight pressed down on me, pinning me there. Panic surged, adrenaline screaming through my veins.

“Turns out you’re just a fucking slut,” he sneered, yanking at my sweatpants, pulling them down roughly, glass crunching beneath us. “You give it up to anyone who gives you a little attention.”

“Stop! Please, stop!” I screamed, but my voice bounced off the walls, unheard. He was too far gone, his body heavy and solid, his legs trapping mine.

“Always lying about not doing anal,” he spat, his breath hot against my ear. “I bet you do it for him, don’t you? I bet you let D-Truth have whatever the fuck he wants.” His voice was cold, cruel, as I heard the unmistakable sound of his zipper being pulled down.

“Help! Somebody!” I screamed, my voice breaking, but it felt like the walls swallowed my words whole. I writhed beneath him, trying to twist free, but he was too strong. His weight was crushing me, his hands ripping at my panties.

“Shut up!” he growled, tearing at the last bit of fabric between us, exposing me, making me feel like I was disappearing inside my own skin.

“Jake, no—please!” My body trembled with fear, with desperation. But his hands were everywhere, forcing me down, suffocating me.

“Stay still!” he roared with a harsh slap on my backside that made me scream in pain, his voice cracking with rage as I felt him trying to force his way inside, trying to spread me open in the place I always told him was off-limits.

I gasped, my eyes widening, terror giving me strength. The fight in me flared up like a spark. I twisted, shoving hard with everything I had left, managing to flip onto my back. My body screamed with pain, but I didn’t care. I was running on fear now, adrenaline pumping through my veins like fire.

Suddenly, I heard Derek’s voice in my head, a memory that flared up out of nowhere, burning brighter than the pain. “Don’t let nobody punk you, Destiny. People will try to punk you cause you’re quiet, they think you’re weak, but you're strong. I need you to always fight back, especially if I’m not there.”

I could almost see him—his young face full of intensity. It was 11th grade, the day Alexa had shoved me on the track during gym class, her eyes full of malice just because Derek had put her boyfriend in his place the week before. She’d wanted to make me pay for it, and I hadn’t known what to do, standing there frozen in fear. But Derek had shown up, fought my battle for me, and later he’d promised me that I wouldn’t need him to save me next time. After that, he’d taught me how to fight. How to throw a punch, how to defend myself when no one was watching.

That memory fueled me now, dragged me back from the edge of terror. “You’re strong,” Derek’s voice whispered again in my mind. “You’re stronger than they think.”

I twisted beneath Jake’s weight, every muscle in my body screaming in protest, but I didn’t care. I shoved hard, everything I had left pouring into one desperate push as he tried to put his hands around my neck. My vision blurred with pain, but the adrenaline pumping through me was sharper, hotter, like fire licking at my skin.

“Fucking bitch!”, Jakes yelled.

Pain didn’t matter. I was running on fear, rage, and instinct now.

My hands clawed at the ground, frantic, desperate for anything that could turn the tide. My fingers curled around something cold and sharp—a shard of glass, slick with blood and dust. I gripped it tight, the edges biting into my palm as I raised it high.

Jake didn’t see it coming. His eyes were wild, full of booze and cruelty as he tried to enter me, not even noticing the change in me. He was too lost in his own rage, too sure of his control. But in that split second, I found mine. I wasn’t weak. I wasn’t going to let him take anything from me.

“Fight back, Des,” Derek’s voice urged, echoing louder in my mind.

And I did.

With everything I had, I swung.

The glass sliced through the air, connecting with Jake’s neck. The impact was brutal, immediate. It cut through skin, muscle—everything. Blood bloomed like a dark flower, spreading across his shirt in a wave of red.

Jake sat up, his eyes going wide with shock. He clutched at his neck, gasping for air, his hand slick with blood. For a split second, his anger turned to disbelief, his face draining of color as the realization hit him.

The world went silent. My heartbeat roared in my ears, thundering, deafening. Everything felt frozen, like time had stopped just long enough for me to understand what I’d done.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, my voice barely a breath. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the blood soaking through his fingers, pooling on the floor like it was growing out of him.

Jake tried to stand, but his legs gave out. He stumbled, his body folding in on itself, crashing to the floor with a thud that shook the room. The sound of it echoed in my chest, in my bones. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, his body twitching, fighting for life.

And then… nothing.

Just stillness.

“No… no, no, no,” I cried, my voice cracking as I crawled toward him, my hands trembling, my knees scraping against the broken glass. I pressed my fingers to his neck, searching for a pulse, for any sign that he was still there. That I hadn’t…

But there was nothing. No breath, no life. Just the silence of a body that no longer belonged to him.

The glass shard slipped from my hand, falling to the floor with a soft clink, swallowed by the blood and the darkness. My hands were stained with his blood, my mind spinning with disbelief, with horror. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.

I had killed him.

My mind went blank. There was nothing—no thoughts, no air. Just the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears. Blood on my hands, on the floor, on him. Everywhere. My vision blurred as the panic rose in my chest, thick and suffocating. It crawled up my throat until I thought I might choke on it, drowning in fear and disbelief.

“Oh Jesus… Oh my God…” My voice trembled as I whispered the words, barely audible through the pounding in my head. I covered my mouth with my hand, watching the life drain out of Jake’s body. His eyes, once wild with rage, were now empty, staring at nothing.

I had to call 911.

My fingers fumbled for my phone, shaking so badly I almost dropped it. But then reality slammed into me like a freight train. How would that look? Me, a Black girl from Juniper, standing over a dead white boy from Westonberry Hills. Jake Hamilton wasn’t just anybody. He was money. He was privilege. And I—I was the girl who killed him.

They wouldn’t care why. They wouldn’t ask what led to this. All they’d see is blood, a dead body, and me. They’d throw the book at me. I was supposed to be the one who made it out, the first one in my family to go to college. I was supposed to change things for us. But instead, I had taken a life… and ruined mine in the process.

What was I gonna do?

My phone shook in my hands, the screen blurring through my tears. There was only one person I could call. One person who would know what to do, who wouldn’t ask me questions I couldn’t answer yet.

“Pick up… please pick up,” I whispered into the phone, my voice shaking as I dialed.

If they didn’t pick up, if I was left here alone—

“Des? What’s up?” The deep voice on the other end was groggy, like I’d woken them up.

“I need you,” I cried, my voice breaking, barely able to get the words out.

“Destiny, what’s wrong?” I could hear them sit up, their tone sharp, awake now. “What happened?”

“Please… please come get me. I—” My throat tightened. I couldn’t say it, couldn’t get the words out. “I hurt someone real bad… I think he’s—”

“Don’t say shit else,” they cut me off, his voice hard, focused. “Where are you?”

“I’m at school. Dorm 1B. Okofor Building.”

“I’ll be there. Don’t let anyone in. Don’t call anyone else.”

I nodded even though they couldn’t see me, the panic still clinging to every part of me. “Okay.”

The line went dead.

Forty minutes felt like a lifetime. I sat there in the corner of my dorm room, my knees pulled to my chest, my back against the cold wall. My sweats were bunched around my ankles, and the sharp sting of glass still dug into my skin. Jake’s blood was everywhere—on my clothes, my hands, pooling beneath his lifeless body on the floor. My mind kept playing the same scene over and over—his hands on me, the sound of my panties tearing, the weight of him pressing me into the broken glass.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop the memories, but they wouldn’t go. Every time I opened them, I saw his body, saw the blood soaking into the carpet, spreading like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.

When the door opened, it was slow and quiet, but the moment Anthony Harris stepped inside, I felt the weight of his presence. His tall frame filled the doorway, and his eyes—those familiar, strong eyes—went wide with horror as he took in the sight.

His face went cold. Not from Jake being dead—but because he was piecing it together. His eyes stayed on me. His eyes softened, the unspoken bond between us tightening like a noose.

Anthony’s gaze finally flicked to Jake’s crumpled body, then to the broken shards of glass, then back to me. He didn’t need to ask what happened. He could see it. He could feel it. His jaw clenched, and he quietly locked the door behind him, shutting out the world. Shutting out everything except the mess we now had to clean up.

Without a word, Anthony stepped around Jake’s body as though he were moving pieces on a chessboard. Like he had done this before. Like he knew exactly what needed to be done. And me… I sat there, frozen, watching him, waiting for the moment when it would all feel real.

Because right now, none of it did.

“Where’s your roommate?” Ant asked, his voice calm but edged with tension.

“She left for the semester,” I whispered, my throat tight. “Her dad died.”

He crouched down in front of me, his eyes scanning over me, taking in the torn clothes, the blood on my hands, the way my whole body shook.

“Des…” He breathed my name like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, like he wasn’t sure how to piece this all together.

I was a mess. Crying. Shaking. My heart thudding so loud in my chest, I couldn’t hear anything else. My whole world had collapsed in the space of a few brutal minutes, and I was sitting there, in the rubble, not sure what the hell to do.

Ant reached out, his big hands resting on my shoulders, pulling me in. He wiped the tears off my face with his thumb, his jaw tight. I could see the tears in his eyes, though he blinked them back, keeping himself together. For me.

“He hurt you, Des.” His voice was rough, trembling as he looked at the state I was in.

“He was going to…” I couldn’t finish. My throat closed up, the words getting stuck there, choking me. “He was going to—” I stammered, shaking my head. “I just wanted him to stop.”

I took a breath, my words tumbling out, frantic, broken. “Derek always said—he said I’m strong. And even if he’s not here, I can protect myself.” My voice cracked.

Ant looked at me with so much pain in his eyes, it almost broke me. He nodded slowly, his voice soft but firm. “And you did, Des. You did.”

My eyes flicked to Jake’s body. Lying there, lifeless. The blood staining the carpet, the glass scattered across the floor. The reality of it all hit me again, harder this time.

“I’m in trouble,” I whispered, the weight of it settling in, crushing me from all sides.

“You’re safe,” Ant said, his voice steady, but I could hear the tremor in it. He pulled the sheet off my bed, gently wrapping it around me like I was a child. Covering my exposed body. He held me close, rocked me as I cried, my body shaking against his.

“Ant…”

“I got you, little sis,” he whispered, his voice low, rough, like he was holding back everything he wanted to say. “I got you. You hear me?”

I nodded into his chest, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping me from drowning.

“Okay,” I breathed, trying to believe it.

“Des, I need you to do something for me.” He pulled back, looking me dead in the eyes. There was something serious, something heavy in his gaze.

“I—” My voice wavered, the panic still sitting heavy in my chest.

“I need you to get up,” he said softly. “Get dressed, and head to one of these parties on campus right now.”

I blinked at him, confused. “I don’t—”

“I need people to see you tonight.” His voice sharpened, his eyes hard, insistent.

And then it hit me. An alibi. I had to be seen. If people knew Jake came here, and he turned up missing, I’d be the first person they’d come for. I was his secret. Maybe no one even knew he was coming here. But still, the fear gripped me.

“Cameras—” I managed to croak, wondering if they’d caught him coming in.

“I got it covered.” Ant was already ahead of me. “I just need you to do what I said.” He rocked me gently, his voice softer, but still firm. “Go be seen. I’ll handle the rest.”

I nodded, understanding now. “Okay.”

Ant helped me to my feet, careful to keep me covered. He led me to the bathroom like I was fragile, like one wrong move might shatter me completely.

“I’m gonna step outside,” he said, his voice low and steady, though I could hear the tension in it. “By the time you’re dressed, I’ll be right outside the door. When I knock, make sure it’s me and no one else, ok?”

I nodded again, swallowing hard. He didn’t move until he saw the nod.

And after I got showed, dressed and did my makeup despite a dead body outside my bathroom, he was right there, waiting. Just like he said.

I pulled myself together as best as I could. I tried to look normal, tried to make my face stop trembling, my hands stop shaking.

“Go have fun, aight? Or at least look like it.” Ant’s voice was soft but firm, giving me something solid to hold on to in all the chaos.

“What about this?” I asked, glancing back at the room. At him.

Ant’s face hardened. “The less you know, the better. Just know it’s handled. And we gon act like this never happened.”

“Ant…”

“Don’t fold on me, Des,” he said, his voice tight. “Keep your shit together. You hear me?”

I nodded, even though I felt like I was unraveling, like everything inside me was coming apart.

“Tonight never happened,” he said, his eyes drilling into mine. “Don’t think about it. Don’t talk about it. Not to me. Not to anyone.”

I swallowed, the knot in my throat making it hard to speak. “Okay.”

“Go,” he said, his voice a whisper now. “Go.”

I stepped out into the night, plastering a smile on my face. I forced myself to laugh, to joke with people, to look like everything was fine. But underneath the surface, my whole body was screaming.

When I finally made my way back to my room, everything was…normal. Like it never happened. No body. No blood. No mess. Just silence.

By the next morning, rumors spread like wildfire. Jake Hamilton was missing, but he’d left a text behind, confessing to something that could destroy his family’s reputation. He wrote that he couldn’t face the shame and fallout, and now he was gone.

Whispers darkened quickly. The police found something disturbing on his computer—files they wouldn’t release publicly—he’d left a digital trail of self-destruction behind. Whatever Jake had been hiding had finally consumed him, leaving nothing but the wreckage he couldn’t escape.

When his parents came to campus, their faces were a mixture of confusion and devastation, like they’d been blindsided by a storm they never saw coming. Campus videos showed him leaving his dorm with a small bag and that was it, it seemingly disappeared into thin air.

The police asked questions, eyes sharp and voices edged with suspicion, but I stayed quiet. I was invisible anyway, never questioned. Why would I know anything about Jake Hamilton? My lips sealed like a vault, even though the truth burned at the back of my throat.

Besides, technically I didn’t make Jake disappear.

Ant did.

---

---

We sat in silence after my confession, side by side on the edge of the bed, the weight of the truth pressing down on both of us. I clutched the sheet to my chest, my body still trembling from the flood of emotions, from the release, but it felt far from over. My eyes were swollen, burning from crying, waiting for Derek to say something. Anything.

The silence between us was suffocating. Derek hadn’t moved. He was hunched over, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor. His jaw was tight, the muscles in his neck tense, but he hadn’t said a word. Not a sigh, not a curse. Nothing. The only sound in the room was the sound of me trying to hold back more tears.

I kept waiting for it. The moment he’d get up, look at me, and decide I wasn’t worth it. That I wasn’t the woman he thought I was. I was damaged, tainted by what I’d done. I kept expecting him to pull away, to tell me that this was too much. That I was too much.

The ring on my finger felt like it was burning, branding me with the weight of everything I had done, everything I had tried to bury. It wasn’t just metal and stone anymore; it was the weight of his love, his faith in me, and now, the truth I had just confessed. My heart was breaking again, shattering into pieces because deep down, I knew. I knew this was it. The moment he’d see me for what I really was and walk away.

I couldn’t stand it. The weight of my confession, the silence stretching between us like a chasm I didn’t know how to cross—it was suffocating. I couldn’t wait for him to take it back, to tell me I wasn’t worth it anymore. So I did the only thing I thought I could. My fingers, trembling, reached for the engagement ring. It felt heavy, wrong, like it didn’t belong on my hand. Like I didn’t deserve it—or him.

I slid the band halfway off when his voice cut through the air, sharp and rough, but carrying something that twisted in my chest. Hurt.

“You plan on going somewhere?”

I froze, the ring only halfway off my finger. Derek had finally looked at me, his eyes locking on mine, full of disbelief and anger.

“You— I—” I stammered, my voice cracking, barely able to string the words together. “I thought you—”

“Didn’t I tell you I’m not leaving, Destiny?” His voice wasn’t soft, wasn’t gentle. It was raw, like a wound ripped open, bleeding pain that cut through me. “And I know damn well you ain’t leaving me.”

His words hit me like a slap, a sharp reminder of the man in front of me, the one who loved me in ways I hadn’t even known were possible. The one who was still here, still sitting next to me after everything I’d just told him. But that didn’t make sense. He shouldn’t still be here.

I blinked, trying to make sense of it, my mind racing, trying to catch up with the reality of him, of us.

“But you know now,” I whispered, my voice trembling like it didn’t belong to me anymore. “You know everything.”

“Yeah, I do.” His eyes never left mine, dark and intense, pulling me in even when I felt like I was falling apart. “I know everything, and I’m still here. I told you, I’m not going anywhere.”

My hand, still holding the ring, shook. “How can you say that?” The words tumbled out, fragile and broken. “How can you even look at me after what I’ve done? I’m not… I’m not the person you thought I was.”

Derek let out a breath, slow and steady, but his fists were still tight, knuckles white. “You think I didn’t know you had your demons? You think I loved you because you’re perfect? Des, I know you better than anyone. I still chose you.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing against mine, stopping me from sliding the ring any further. His touch was warm, steady, and it felt like he was trying to anchor me to him, to remind me that I wasn’t falling, that I wasn’t lost. Not to him.

“But I hurt someone,” I whispered, my voice shaking, tears burning in my throat, clawing to break free. “I took a life. How can you—”

“You protected yourself,” Derek cut in, his voice sharp, each word laced with a rough edge that sent a shiver down my spine. “You did what you had to do, like I taught you. You survived. And I would’ve done the same. Hell, if I could go back, I’d take that glass from your hand and finish the damn job myself.”

His words hit like a hammer, pounding through the silence, heavy and full of conviction. I tried to swallow the knot in my throat, but it wouldn’t move. The weight of it sat there, thick, suffocating. My chest ached, but the pain wasn’t just mine. It was his too. I could see it in his face, etched deep into the lines of his jaw, the tension rolling off him like a storm that hadn’t fully broken yet.

“I didn’t kill nobody back then ‘cause you stopped me,” Derek’s voice softened, but it was no less fierce. His eyes flickered with memories—dark, violent ones, ones I had stood by him through. “But you remember what I’ve done with my bare hands the last time I saw somebody try you. You were there, Des. You stood right there screaming for me to stop. You came to my hearing, you sat through my trial. You wrote me when they locked me up for those months. You never judged me for what I did. You stood by me, even when Juniper looked at me like I was a monster.”

I felt the tears welling up again, but I blinked them back, the weight of his gaze too much to bear.

“So why,” Derek’s voice dropped low, the words wrapping around me like a vice, “why would I ever judge you when you were defending yourself? When you had no choice but to fight back? I know what it’s like to be pushed to that point, to feel like you got no other way out. And you, Des… you did what you had to do. I’d be more mad if you didn’t fight.”

He wasn’t just saying this to calm me down, to ease my guilt—he meant it. Every syllable hit like a promise, like an oath.

“I would’ve killed him myself,” Derek murmured, his voice raw, full of something darker than just love. It was protectiveness—feral, violent, but threaded with tenderness too. “For touching you, for thinking he could hurt you. I don’t care what it took, I’d have ended him without a second thought. And I would’ve done it smiling.”

A shudder ran through me at the intensity in his words, the finality in his tone. Derek meant every single word, and that realization both terrified and comforted me in ways I couldn’t explain. He saw the darkness in me, the violence I had been forced to use, and he didn’t flinch.

“I can’t ask you to carry this with me.”, I choked out, the tears spilling over now.

His grip tightened on my hand, pulling the ring back down onto my finger, sealing it there like a vow. “You don’t have to ask me for shit. I’m already carrying it. And I’d carry it a hundred times over if it means you never having to feel it.”

His voice softened, just a fraction, but it was enough to make the tears fall harder. “I just need you to be here. With me. Not running, not hiding anything from me, not trying to tear yourself apart because of something you couldn’t control. I need you. And I’m not letting you go. Not now.”

I didn’t deserve him, not after everything, but here he was, refusing to let me go, refusing to leave me in the darkness I had secretly buried myself in for so long.

“I’m not leaving you,” he repeated, his voice low but fierce, the words cutting through the air like a promise. “So stop trying to leave me.”

I swallowed hard, my breath shaking as I nodded, my fingers clenching around his. “Okay,” I whispered, the word barely there, but it was enough. Enough to keep me grounded, enough to remind me that I wasn’t alone in this.

I shifted slightly, and the bed creaked beneath us, a sound that felt too loud, too sharp against the heavy quiet. My fingers clutched at the sheet still wrapped around me, the fabric cool against my skin, but even that felt distant. Like everything around me was moving in slow motion, like I was here but not really here, watching my own body from somewhere else.

"I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, Destiny. That kind of love doesn’t just go away because of something like this. It makes me love you harder. Makes me want to protect you with everything I have.", Derek said.

"But what if one day you look at me and realize I’m not worth it?"

"That day will never come. Not in this life, not in the next."

I wiped at my tears, the weight of his words both a balm and a reminder of the darkness we now shared. His eyes stayed locked on mine, glassy with emotions he wasn’t quite letting out. I could see it—he was fighting back his own tears, trying to stay strong for both of us. But the pain was there, raw and bubbling just beneath the surface.

“You did the right thing calling Ant,” Derek said, the words coming out tight, like it hurt him to even say it. “I couldn’t be there…but you did the right thing calling him.”

His voice cracked a little on the last part, and I saw the way his jaw clenched, his fists tightening. It was like admitting that tore at him, the knowledge that he wasn’t the one I’d called when it all fell apart. That I hadn’t turned to him. The guilt gnawed at me, but I knew I didn’t have a choice back then.

“I didn’t know who else I could call,” I whispered, my voice shaky, full of apology and regret.

Derek’s gaze dropped for a second, his hand still gripping mine. His veins popped in his neck, his pulse pounding so hard I could see it. He was holding back, so much left unsaid, so much tension coiled inside him like a storm waiting to break.

When Derek finally spoke again, his voice broke the quiet, low and rough, vibrating through me like a current. His words didn’t match the softness of his touch, though. They were sharp, full of anger and something else—something darker.

“Destiny,” he murmured, his voice almost a growl, though he was trying to keep it steady. “Look at me.”

I lifted my eyes slowly, the weight of his gaze pressing against my chest. His hand moved from my wrist to cup my face, and I couldn’t help but lean into his touch, my cheek burning under the warmth of his palm. The warmth I needed, the warmth I craved, but it felt like too much and not enough at the same time. His thumb brushed over my skin, and the tenderness of the gesture made my breath catch in my throat. It was soft, almost comforting, but there was a tension beneath it, a tension I couldn’t ignore.

I blinked against the tears still threatening to fall, my vision blurry, but I didn’t pull away. I couldn’t. I needed this. I needed him, even if I didn’t know how to ask for it.

“You’re trembling,” he whispered, and I could feel his thumb pause against my cheek. His eyes flickered, just for a second, from my face to the sheet still clutched in my hands, like he was putting it all together. “Are you cold?”

I shook my head quickly, but my body betrayed me. My hands were shaking, my fingers still numb, not from the temperature but from everything else—the fear, the shame, the weight of what I’d just laid bare between us. My body felt disconnected, like it didn’t belong to me anymore.

“Can I ask you something?” Derek’s voice broke the stillness, a quiet rumble that carried weight, like he’d been holding the question in for too long.

I turned my head slightly, meeting his eyes.

“Why do you like it when I spank you, push you that hard, be so rough… considering everything you’ve been through?”, he asked.

His voice was steady, but there was something underneath it, like he was struggling to understand. His eyes searched mine, looking for answers I wasn’t even sure how to give.

“I don’t know if I can explain it,” I whispered, my voice barely audible as I tried to find the words, my chest tight with the weight of it all. “It’s not about what happened to me, Derek. It’s about… control.”

He frowned, his brow furrowing as he tried to make sense of it. I could see the conflict in his eyes, the way he was trying to understand something that felt foreign to him.

“When it happened… with Jake… I didn’t have any control. I was powerless at first, and I hated it. Every part of it,” I said, my voice trembling as I spoke, the memories pressing down on me like a weight. “But when you’re rough with me… when you push me, tame me like that… I choose it. I decide.”

Derek’s eyes darkened, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t speak. He was listening, letting me say the things I hadn’t even admitted to myself.

“I know it sounds crazy,” I continued, my words coming out faster now, like once I’d started, I couldn’t stop. “But when you’re in control like that, it’s the one time I feel free. I’m not scared. I don’t have to think. I trust you. Completely. And you know how far to push me, how much I can take. It’s like… you see all the parts of me that I’ve tried to hide. The parts that crave something darker, something that feels.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. This wasn’t about breaking down. This was about letting him in. Letting him understand.

“You remind me that I’m strong.”, I said finally.

Derek’s breath hitched, his fingers brushing against my cheek, rough and gentle all at once. His touch was steady, but I could feel the storm brewing beneath his skin. He wasn’t just hearing my words—he was feeling them. Every syllable sinking into him like a knife.

“You don’t see it as… reliving that moment?” he asked, his voice low, tight with emotion.

I shook my head. “No. It’s the opposite. With you, I’m in control, even when you’re the one taking it from me. It’s mine to give. And when you spank me…it’s like a release. All the pain, all the shame, it just…goes away.”

Derek’s eyes softened, but there was still a hardness there, something he wasn’t ready to let go of yet. He swallowed, his throat working as he tried to process what I was saying. Didn’t seem like he was buying it.

“I never want to hurt you, Des. Never.”

“You don’t,” I whispered, my voice soft but firm. “You’re the only one who makes me feel safe enough to give that part of myself. The only one I trust to take that part of me.”

He exhaled sharply, the tension in his shoulders easing, but I could still see the conflict warring behind his eyes. His hands cupped my face, pulling me closer, his forehead resting against mine. I knew in that moment that he understood.

I leaned into his touch, the weight of his words settling deep inside me. “I can let go with you. That’s why I can take it. Because you know when to be rough, and you know when to hold me together.”

Derek got quiet again, his jaw tightening as he processed what I said. His fingers twitched slightly against my skin, like he was holding something back, his mind racing in a direction I couldn’t fully follow. I could see the conflict in his eyes—the guilt, the worry. He wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing, wasn’t sure if I truly meant what I’d just confessed.

“I’m putting your ass in therapy, Princess,” he finally said, his voice firm but laced with concern. “You know that, right? I know I gotta go for my shit…but you gotta go too. We’ll do something together, if that’s what it takes.”

It wasn’t a question, more of a quiet demand wrapped in love, the kind only Derek could give. His tone had softened just enough to let me know this wasn’t about controlling me—it was about saving me, saving us. His need to protect me was fighting against the reality that sometimes, even he couldn’t be enough.

I nodded, biting my lip as I felt the weight of his words settle in.

“Okay,” I whispered, my voice steady but small, the sound of agreement leaving my lips before I had time to second guess it. It was a good idea, a smart one. But that didn’t stop the fear from creeping in, from reminding me of all the things therapy might bring to the surface.

“So you told Arnold and Jonathan?” His voice was clipped, controlled, like he was barely keeping himself in check.

“I never told Jonathan. And I don’t recall telling Arnold either. I swear, Derek,” I said quickly, my voice trembling. “Ant told me not to say anything, and I didn’t. Because I knew it would get him in trouble too. The pictures you mentioned—I’ve been racking my brain, and I truly don’t remember ever taking naked pictures, I promise—”

Derek’s jaw clenched, the tension rolling off him in waves. “Eden told Hakeem she saw them. She said they were very explicit.”

I shook my head, the panic rising as I tried to make sense of what he was saying. I scrambled to jog my memory, digging deep into the moments I had tried so hard to remember, but nothing surfaced. There was no recollection, no images in my mind that matched what he was describing. It was like grasping at shadows.

“I don’t remember,” I whispered, shaking my head harder. “I wouldn’t have done that, Derek. I swear.”

His eyes softened, just for a moment, but there was still a storm brewing behind them, still questions hanging heavy in the air.

“Were you drinking?” he asked, his voice quieter but laced with a darker concern.

I hesitated, my mind racing through nights I’d spent at Arnold’s, trying to find any piece of this puzzle that would make sense. “You know I’m not much of a drinker... but sometimes when I went to Arnold’s, he’d make something just for me. He knew I didn’t like the hard liquor he drank, so he’d always make me something different.”

Derek’s eyes darkened, a flicker of something dangerous passing through them. He was quiet for a moment, his mind clearly working through what I’d just said. I could see the wheels turning, the anger simmering beneath the surface.

“Something he made just for you?” he repeated, his voice low and sharp.

I nodded slowly, swallowing against the lump forming in my throat. “Yeah… it always tasted sweet. Different from the stuff he drank,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to complain because… he was trying to be accommodating, you know?”

Derek shot to his feet, tension coiled tight like a spring ready to snap. He paced sharply, restless, his fists clenching and unclenching, veins popping in his forearms. His chest rose and fell like every breath was a battle against the storm brewing inside.

The room felt charged with his energy, dark and suffocating. His heavy steps echoed as he moved, the floor creaking under his weight. Each time he seemed on the verge of calming down, his fists would tighten, his knuckles white, and the pacing would start all over—like he was teetering on the edge of something dangerous.

“Derek,” I whispered, watching him, my heart pounding as I saw the war he was fighting with himself. “Please… talk to me.”

He stopped mid-step, his back to me, his shoulders rising and falling with each heavy breath. For a moment, I thought he might explode, that the anger simmering inside him would finally break free and consume everything. But instead, he just stood there, his hands at his sides, fists still clenched, his whole body shaking with the effort to stay in control.

“I’m trying, Des,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, barely audible. “I’m trying not to lose my shit right now.”

He turned slowly to face me, and when his eyes met mine, I could see it—the raw, unfiltered rage burning behind them. His jaw was clenched so tight I could see the muscles twitching, his lips pressed into a thin line as if he was holding back everything he wanted to say, everything he wanted to do.

But even with the fury simmering just beneath the surface, his gaze softened when it landed on me. His eyes, dark and stormy, filled with love and something else—something darker, more dangerous. His love for me had always been fierce, but now… now it felt like a double-edged sword, something that could protect me but also destroy anyone who dared to hurt me.

“Princess…” Derek’s voice faltered, his eyes flicking away from mine as if he couldn’t quite look at me. His hand paused mid-air like he was trying to catch a thought that had slipped through his fingers. “Are you…hungry?” His voice was strained, unsteady.

I blinked, confused by the shift. “We just left a party, Derek. I’m fine,” I said softly, searching his face, trying to figure out what he wasn’t saying.

“Right.” He muttered the word like he was talking to himself, his hand rubbing roughly over his face, his movements jerky, restless. “Right.”

“Derek—” I started, but he cut me off, his eyes flicking back to mine with a sudden intensity that made me freeze.

“Let me get you cleaned up,” he said, the words rushing out like he’d just made the decision. “I didn’t…I didn’t do your aftercare.” His voice was rough, the tenderness in it almost lost under the weight of something heavier, something he was trying to hold back.

“Because I was telling you what happened,” I reminded him, narrowing my eyes, trying to read him, trying to understand what he was really feeling. “I don’t need—”

“Yes you do, Destiny,” he interrupted, his voice firmer now, though there was an edge to it, like he was barely keeping himself in check.

He stopped again, standing still, like he was caught between two thoughts. Then he came over and reached for my hands, his grip gentle but tight, like he was anchoring himself to me.

“You need to regulate,” Derek finally said, his voice low, almost a whisper. He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto mine, but there was a darkness in them, a weight that made my heart ache. “You went through hell tonight. And I pushed you harder than I ever have. I pushed you because I needed you to give me everything, to trust me with your pain.” His voice cracked, just barely, but I heard it. “Let me take care of you now like I always do.”

His eyes searched mine, desperate for something—absolution, maybe, or forgiveness for pushing me so far. For not knowing, for not being there when I needed him most.

“Okay,” I whispered, my voice trembling, the word falling from my lips before I could stop it. Not because I needed it, but because he did. Because I could see that he needed this moment to put the pieces back together, to ground himself in the one thing he could control—caring for me.

Without another word, Derek turned and headed for the bathroom, his steps quicker than usual, like he was trying to outrun the storm brewing inside him. The energy in the room had shifted. He wasn’t angry with me. But something was eating at him, something sharp that cut between us like a blade.

I stepped into the doorway, leaning against the frame, unsure of how to break the tension. He wasn’t looking at me. His hands moved with precision, adding bubble bath, adjusting the temperature. It was like he was trying to drown out everything else, bury himself in this small act of care.

“Will you get in with me?” I asked, my voice barely louder than a breath.

He froze for a second, his hands still on the faucet, the muscles in his back tense. When he turned to face me, his eyes softened, but there was something buried deep in them—something he wasn’t ready to let out yet.

“If that’s what you want,” he said quietly, his voice strained, like he was forcing the words through a clenched jaw.

I nodded, stepping closer. “That’s what I want.”

He let out a breath he’d been holding, and his lips twitched into a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “What my princess wants, my princess gets, right?”

But even as he said it, the words felt heavy, like he was trying to convince himself. Trying to find comfort in the role he’d taken on for me, the protector, the one who always knew what to do. But tonight, that mask was slipping, and I could see the cracks.

“Derek, talk to me,” I pressed gently, stepping into the bathroom fully now, my eyes locking with his. I needed him to let it out. I needed him to stop pretending he wasn’t hurting too.

He stood up straighter, his hands gripping the edge of the sink like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. His gaze dropped, his jaw tightening before he finally spoke.

“Destiny… the love of my life just told me that someone assaulted her, tried to rape her.” His voice wavered, the rawness in it cutting through the air like a slap. “And I wasn’t there to stop it. I wasn’t there to protect you, and you had to kill him to survive. You were out here, alone, handling that shit while I was God knows where.”

He paused, running a hand through his locs, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “And my brother… my own brother helped you cover it up, and I didn’t know. I didn’t know anything because I left you out here. Unprotected.”

I could see it in his eyes, the weight of what I’d confessed, the fury and helplessness swirling together like a storm ready to break. His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles white as if he was holding onto control by a thread.

“It was a long time ago,” I whispered, my voice barely steady, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference. His anger wasn’t something time could erase.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice low and sharp, cutting through the air like glass. “That trauma doesn’t have a timestamp, Destiny. It’s in you. I felt it. In your body. I heard it in your voice, like you were still living in that moment. You were scared to tell me, and I get that. But I felt your body reliving it, and that’s why I pushed you tonight. I wanted you to get it out. I needed you to. I didn’t think it would be this.”

My throat tightened, the truth of his words slicing through me. I had been scared. Terrified, really. Not just of reliving it, but of what he might think of me once he knew everything. The shame. The guilt. The blood.

“You can’t protect me from everything,” I said softly, my voice cracking as I tried to make him understand. He couldn’t carry this weight. Not this. “You can’t fix what’s already broken.”

“Don’t say that,” he whispered, his voice raw, almost pleading. His gaze flickered with a desperation I hadn’t seen before, like he needed to believe he could protect me from this, from everything.

He stepped forward, closing the space between us, his hands gently cupping my face as if I might shatter under his touch.

“Don’t ever say that again.” Derek’s voice was thick, trembling with a rage he was barely holding back. His words hit me like a weight, heavy with all the things he wasn’t saying.

The room was suffocating, the kind of heavy silence that feels like it’s choking the air right out of your lungs. Derek stood there, staring at me, eyes dark and wild, a storm brewing behind them. Love, guilt, anger—emotions twisted together like vines, tangling him up inside. And then, something darker. Something he couldn’t bury no matter how hard he tried. I could feel it pressing against him, threatening to tear him apart. To tear us apart.

“Whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t,” I said, my voice barely a whisper, though it felt like it echoed off the walls. I didn’t know where the words came from, only that I needed to say them. Needed to stop him before he went too far.

Derek’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. He looked at me like I was speaking in a language he didn’t understand. Like I’d just asked him to do something impossible. Slowly, he let go of me, his hands dropping to his sides. His expression was tight, wounded, like I’d taken a knife to his chest and twisted.

“You don’t even know what you just asked me to do,” he said finally, his voice raw and broken, as though I’d stabbed him in the heart. His words cut through the air, sharp and unforgiving.

I could feel the tremble in his voice, the barely contained fury simmering beneath the surface. Derek didn’t yell. Not yet. But I saw the violence brewing in his eyes, the need for vengeance building, tightening its grip on him. It was a rope pulling tighter and tighter around his throat, choking out reason, suffocating him in ways I couldn’t touch.

“It’s not worth it,” I said, my words pleading, trying to keep him anchored. Trying to pull him back from the edge he was so close to stepping off.

He snapped his gaze to mine, a fire blazing in his eyes, burning so hot I could feel it searing through me.

“You’re worth it,” he growled, his voice thick, trembling with the weight of everything he was holding back.

I stepped closer, my heart thudding in my chest, my breath catching in my throat. “Derek, I’m safe. It was years ago. I’m ok. Let it go.” I could barely get the words out, the desperation choking me.

His face twisted, and before I could blink, he yelled, “No!” The force of it hit me like a punch, making me flinch, my body jerking back. The sound reverberated through the room, bouncing off the walls, hanging in the air like a gunshot that wouldn’t fade.

I stared at him, eyes wide, my heart racing, tears stinging the back of my throat. Derek was unraveling right in front of me, piece by piece, and I didn’t know how to put him back together. I didn’t know if I could.

“You don’t get it, Destiny,” he continued, his chest rising and falling like he was fighting to hold himself together. “I can’t just let it go. You telling me to move on from something that almost destroyed you, that’s still trying to destroy you—it’s like asking me not to breathe.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. The room felt too small, like the walls were closing in on us, trapping us in this moment.

“Derek, listen to me.” My voice shook, but I forced myself to keep going. “I’m okay. I turned out fine. I survived. I don’t need you to—”

“To what?” he cut me off, his eyes blazing with an intensity that made my heart skip. “To protect you? To make sure no one else tries to hurt you? You think I can just sit back knowing what they did—knowing what they tried to take from you? Knowing what Arnold and Johnathon are trying to do right fucking now?”

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but the words got stuck. Derek’s pain was too big, too overwhelming. I could see the storm building in him, could feel it in the way his body trembled, like he was one breath away from breaking apart completely.

“You’re asking me to let them get away with it,” he said, his voice lower now, but somehow more dangerous. “And I can’t, Destiny. I won’t.”

“I’m not asking you to forgive them,” I whispered, stepping closer, trying to reach him through the storm that was pulling him under. “I’m asking you to choose us. To let us heal without dragging this into the light. You don’t need to burn everything down for me.”

He stared at me, his eyes softening for the briefest moment before the fire blazed back, fierce and unrelenting. “It’s not just about protecting you, Des. It’s deeper than that. You’re mine, and anyone who tries to hurt you? They pay. That’s it. No discussion. I’m not sitting by while naked pictures of you are out there, and I’m damn sure not letting this motherfucker drag Eden into his shit, working in that club to pay off some twisted debt because she’s trying to shield you.”

Tears burned my eyes, but I blinked them away, my voice trembling. “I don’t want you to carry that weight, Derek. I don’t want you to destroy yourself for me.”

He stepped closer, the distance between us disappearing as his hands found me, trembling but sure, pulling me tight against his chest. His touch was warm, steady, but his body? His body was like a live wire, buzzing with barely contained fury.

“I’d burn the whole goddamn world down for you,” he whispered against my hair, his voice thick with a raw intensity that made my heart ache. “Don’t ask me to do anything less.”

I buried my face in his chest, feeling his heart pound against me like a war drum. I knew he meant every word. That he’d tear apart anyone who tried to hurt me, who had hurt me. But that wasn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want him to lose himself in the rage, to drown in it. I just wanted him. Whole. Not broken by vengeance.

“Derek, please,” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. “Don’t let them take any more of you. Of us.”

His jaw clenched, and I saw the fire flare back in his eyes when I looked up at him, simmering just below the surface. He took a step back from me, his voice low but edged with steel.

“Did you hear me, Des? These motherfuckers aren’t done. Jake was bad enough, and yea that was years ago, but Arnold? He’s got pictures of you—you—and he’s threatening to put them out there. And if he thinks for a second he can run to the cops about what happened that night? I have to shut that shit down. Now!”

I could feel the weight of his words, heavy like they were crushing him under the pressure to fix everything, to bury the past. His breath was ragged, hands trembling like he was holding the world together with nothing but his fists.

“You understand?” His voice cracked, raw, his eyes searching mine, begging me to see it his way, to let him fight the demons closing in on us.

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring his face, but I could still see it—the pain etched into his features, the way his jaw clenched like he was trying to hold himself together. I wanted to reach out, to comfort him, but I didn’t know how. How could I, when I was the one who caused this storm inside him?

“I’m gonna handle what’s left of this,” he continued, his voice low, dangerous. “I couldn’t save you back then, but I’ll fix it now. I’ll bury this, Des. I’ll bury them—Johnathon, Arnold—all of it for trying to put their hurt what’s mine. For trying to extort you, for dragging Eden into this.”

He wasn’t just talking. He was promising something darker, something final. And the way he said it, the way he stared at me like he was daring me to challenge him, made me believe him. Made me feel the weight of that promise settling in my chest, cold and unrelenting.

“There’s nothing you can say, nothing you can do, that’ll stop the Hell I’m about to bring down on them.” His voice dropped lower, quieter, but somehow more intense, like the calm before the worst part of a hurricane. “Understand?”

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t speak. But I nodded, swallowing hard as I stared at him. There was no turning him back now. Derek wasn’t just a man protecting the woman he loved—he was a force of nature, and I was caught in the center of it.

His hands were suddenly on my face, strong and sure, pulling me close like I was his lifeline, like he needed to feel me to keep himself grounded. His eyes softened, just a little, but the intensity was still there, simmering beneath the surface.

“And I’m not asking you, Des,” he murmured, his grip tightening. “I’m telling you. I’ll burn the whole world down before I let anything else hurt you…and I’m starting with Juniper.”

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a declaration of love. It was a vow, one that felt as real as the air between us, as heavy as the silence that followed. And I knew—there was no stopping him now.

Hell was coming. And Derek was the one bringing it.

---

To be continued.