Kiss Me, Damnation

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Adrian

Secrets are like blood. You just have to know where to press to make them bleed.

Evelyn thinks she hides it well—the quiet stiffness in her shoulders when family is mentioned, the way she flinches at certain words, the practiced smile she wears when someone asks about her home. But to me, the cracks in her armor are obvious. I've been watching her too long not to notice.

It didn't take much to find the truth.

My father's connections open doors others don't even know exist. d**k helped to in finding information although he's currently in New Jersey for some crazy interview or whatever he called it. A name here, a favor there, a whispered conversation with someone who knew too much about her custody battle. Her father won the case, then left her with the uncle instead. Unusual. Suspicious. And when I followed the threads—when I looked at the police reports that never went anywhere, the buried complaints, the way her uncle's name was whispered in certain places—I understood.

She isn't just broken. She's bleeding. And nobody has cared enough to stop it.

Except me.

That's what she doesn't realize yet. I'm not Daniel Rowe, her little knight with his soft words and predictable temper. I don't want to shield her from the truth. I want to take it, twist it, and make it ours.

So when I saw her trembling under the weight of my words—when I told her I knew about her uncle—I saw the shift in her eyes. Terror, yes. But also something else. Recognition. Because finally, someone wasn't fooled by her mask.

That's power. That's intimacy.

I plan to use it well.

It's simple, really. If she clings to Daniel, she clings to a lie. He doesn't know her, not really. He loves the version of Evelyn she's constructed—the strong, clever girl who debates fiercely in class and laughs at his jokes. But me? I see the Evelyn who walks home heavy with secrets, who shakes when she thinks no one is looking, who is bound by chains her own family forged.

And that is the girl I want.

So I'll give her a choice, though it isn't really one. Break up with Daniel, or I'll tell him the truth. Leave him, or I'll paint her life in blood and shame before his eyes. And she'll know I mean it, because I've already proven I can find what no one else has.

It isn't cruelty. It's clarity.

Daniel is a distraction, a fantasy she clings to so she doesn't have to face what she really is. But me—I am the only one who can hold the parts of her she hides from the world. And if I must drag her into the light kicking and screaming, then so be it.

Because when it's over, when she finally comes to me, she'll understand.

She'll see that the boy who let Daniel hit him, the boy who knows her deepest wound, is the only one strong enough to carry her.

And then, she won't just be mine. She'll be free.

And what did I say about a sheep coming back to its master.

It's almost time.

---

Evelyn

I don't remember walking home.

One minute, Adrian's words were echoing in my head, sharp and cruel, and the next I was in my room with the door locked, my back pressed against the wood like it could hold me together.

He knows.

He knows the one thing I swore no one would ever find out. He knows the truth I buried so deep I sometimes pretended it wasn't mine. And he's holding it like a knife, dangling it over me with that smug smile that makes me want to scream.

I sink onto the floor, knees pulled to my chest, shaking so hard my teeth chatter. The sob rises before I can stop it, breaking out of me in a sound I haven't made since I was twelve years old.

Because now the secret doesn't just live inside me. It belongs to him, too.

My uncle.

The first time, I thought it was a mistake. A hand on my shoulder that lingered too long, a laugh that bent too close, words whispered that made my skin crawl. But it didn't stop. It grew sharper, darker. He called it love, then discipline, then games I was too young to understand. He called me names I didn't even know the meaning of—masochist, weak, broken—and said they were proof I belonged to him.

I tried to tell my father once, during one of our brief visits after the custody battle. But he was distracted, already worn thin from the divorce, and he brushed me off with a tired sigh. "Don't exaggerate, Evelyn. Your uncle's doing us a favor. Be grateful."

So I swallowed the words. I buried them where no one could touch them. And my mother was too far gone, too wrapped up in her own battles to notice.

That's when I learned silence was safer than truth.

I built my walls high. I buried the bruises under long sleeves, the fear under jokes, the shame under grades and debates. I smiled, and everyone believed me. Even Daniel. Sweet, gentle Daniel, who thinks my quiet moments are just shyness and my guarded silences are strength.

If he knew... if he knew the truth... he'd look at me differently. Not as the girl he fell for, but as something ruined, something tainted. Adrian knows that. That's why he threatened me with it.

I press my palms into my eyes until I see stars, until the tears burn away.

Adrian isn't lying. He could destroy everything I've built with one whisper. And part of me hates him for it. But part of me hates myself more—because he's right. He's the only one who's ever really seen me, even if it's through cruelty.

And that thought alone makes me want to tear my skin off.

I don't know what to do. If I break up with Daniel, I lose the only light I have. If I stay, Adrian will rip the truth out and shatter it in front of him. Either way, I lose.

I lean back against the bed, staring at the ceiling until the shadows blur.

I used to think secrets kept me safe. Now I see they've only made me a prisoner. And Adrian... Adrian is standing at the door of that prison, holding the key.

And I'm terrified of what he'll make me do next.