EVE.
6:58 am.
I had two minutes to convince myself I was okay.
I smoothed my dress one last time and tugged at the hem of my short sleeves. It was pointless, really. It wasn't like they could hide the panic clawing at my chest.
My hair was combed, clipped, and as neat as I could get it considering the throbbing pain I'd been ignoring since 4 am.
I hadn't slept.
The moment I closed my eyes last night, I had felt his fingers around my neck, his breath behind my ear, and the sound of my body hitting his chest.
The pain. The fear. The absolute powerlessness of it all.
No matter how hard I tried to replace that haunting memory with the most recent memory of safety I had felt in a very long time – in Kyrie's arms – it just didn't work.
But all that didn't matter right now. I had to a
