The two men dropped Clinton to the floor with a thud, and I heard him grunt in pain. My heart clenched, but not from pity—at least, not entirely.
Zayn stood beside me, fists clenched, his entire body radiating fury. I knew I was the only one who could stop him from doing something irreversible. But as much as I feared him in this moment… I feared myself even more.
Because deep inside, buried beneath the shock and confusion, there was a darker emotion clawing its way up.
Satisfaction.
Seeing Clinton like that—bruised, weak, broken—for everything he’d done to me all those years ago… it stirred something I didn’t want to name. And Zayn, the dangerous man I barely knew, standing there ready to go to war for me… it awakened a part of me I had long buried.
I closed my eyes, trying to shut i
