Ava woke to the sound of rain hammering against her window, the storm outside echoing the turmoil in her chest. The clock read 3:17 a.m., yet her body refused to rest. She lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, every nerve tingling from the memory of Ethan’s hands on her, his voice, his relentless claim.
Her lips still burned from his kiss, her skin haunted by his touch. No matter how much she scrubbed, no matter how many times she told herself to push him away, he clung to her like a phantom she couldn’t shake.
She turned on her side, clutching the pillow as if it could hold her together. Why can’t I escape him? Why do I let him back in, even when I know I should run?
A sharp knock jolted her. Ava shot upright, her breath catching in her throat. She didn’t need to ask who it was.
He
