𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆: 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐲

𝐓𝐖: 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐑𝐚𝐩𝐞, 𝐒𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

...🏀...

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓, 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋

𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟓

𝐈 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐝𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐬.

I squeezed them shut, wanting to go back to sleep for just a minute longer. But then, I felt warmth. It wasn't the kind from blankets or sunshine—no it was from being held. My cheek was pressed against bare skin—a chest that was rising and falling beneath me in a slow, steady rhythm that lulled me for a second.

Until everything that happened last night flooded back to me.

Me waking up from another nightmare filled with my living one, Andrew.

Me sneaking out in the storm because I needed Nathan.

Me almost crashing into a fallen tree and my car dying.

Me telling Nathan everything.

Me letting my walls down and choosing myself for the first time.

I didn't regret it, sleeping with Nathan. Because for the first time, it was my choice.

Carefully, I slipped from beneath Nathan's arm, lifting it gently. His hand twitched, and I paused, holding my breath, watching his face for any sign of waking. There was nothing but the furrowing of his brows and a soft, peaceful look on his face that made my chest ache a little with how much I loved him.

I padded across the room, grabbing the black t-shirt he'd tossed off last night—my mouth twitched at the memory—and ducked into the bathroom. Pulling it over my head, tugging the hem down past my thighs, and stood in front of the mirror.

I didn't recognize the girl staring back at me.

Same curls—now wild and tangled around my face.

Same eyes—hazel, tired but not empty.

The necklace around my neck caught the light, that little moonstone glowing against my skin. The engraving on the back pressed against my chest like a quiet reminder.

Twenty-three.

Gone was the broken girl with the haunting eyes that held lies. Lies of pretending that everything was fine. Pretending that Andrew didn't terrify me and the constant risk that his mere presence threatened not only me but everyone around me.

Instead, I saw someone new. Someone who was stronger, braver. A girl who was still healing but not hiding.

Not anymore.

I turned the doorknob slowly, slipping back into the bedroom. The floorboard creaked, just enough to stir him. Nathan blinked awake, groggy and adorably confused for half a second—until he saw me.

His eyes softened, the way they always did when he looked at me like I was the only thing in the room worth seeing.

"Hey," I whispered, my voice still scratchy from sleep.

"Mm." His smile was sleep-rough and crooked. He sat up just as I reached him, arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me into him. "You're never leaving."

His lips brushed mine—slow at first, gentle. Like he was savoring the kiss, committing each brush to memory. But then his hands slid beneath the oversized hem of his shirt, fingers skating over my bare thighs, his grip tightened and before I knew it, I was in his lap.

I gasped against his mouth and he deepening the kiss.

Without thinking, I straddled him, my knees sinking into the mattress. His hands slid up my back, pulling me closer until our bodies pressed together and a moan escaped me. His mouth devoured the sound, biting at my lip before his tongue slid into brushing against mine in a way that brought delicious pleasure to my core.

Nathan devoured me like I was the air that he needed to survive. And God, I let him.

His hands slid down over my ass and pushing me against him as his lips moved with mine—slow, then faster, rougher, deeper. My arms wrapped around his neck, running my fingers through his hair as my knees tightened at his hips pressing down, my breath hitched and I let out a soft moan.

My nails scraped gently along his skin, leaving marks, and he groaned—low, guttural—into my mouth. Heat floods my body at the sound and I rocked against him, needing more, needing him.

He kissed along my jaw, biting the lobe of my ear and my eyes rolled into the back of my head as I moaned loud.

I couldn't think. Couldn't breathe.

Didn't want to.

His fingers tangled in my curls, tugging hard, pulling me back as he trailed kisses down my neck.

"Nathan," I gasped out as a wave of pleasure was taking over my senses.

BANG.

Nathan's door slammed open.

I barely had time to turn before Nathan grabbed the sheets and twisted, shielding me with his body as I let out a startled yelp, buried under him. His weight pinned me protectively while I blinked up.

"Jesus," he growled. He looked into his open doorway and his jaw clenched. "What the hell Brooke?!"

"Relax!" her voice rang out like she was totally unfazed and always walked into Nathan's bedroom, uninvited all the time. "I'm only here looking for Mylah with Rambo here who needs to calm the fuck down!"

I peeked out from behind Nathan's shoulder just in time to see Brooke striding into the room like she owned the place. Koa trailed behind her, arms folded and scowling, wishing he could be anywhere else.

Brooke's eyes locked on us—on me in Nathan's shirt, still tangled in his sheets and then on Nathan on top of me—and her mouth fell open.

She fucking screamed.

"Oh my God, finally!"

I groaned and dropped my head back onto the pillow and throwing an arm over my eyes as Nathan let out a grumbled, "Nice to see you too, Brooke. Now get out."

"No can do, lover boy," Brooke chirped. "We've got Rogue Vogue, remember?"

I dropped my arm and turned, finding my best friend grinning like she was living her best life, circling the bed and grabbing my wrist. "Brooke—"

"Look, I know you would love nothing more than to stay in this room all day with him," Brooke grinned. "I mean, you're glowing. We love that for you. But Rogue Vogue waits for no one."

Nathan groaned just as Brooke marched around the bed. She yanked the covers off with zero remorse and grabbed my arm. Nathan protested instantly, lunging, but Brooke shoved him off the bed with one hand, and he hit the floor with a loud thud.

"Oh, my God!" I squeaked, trying not to laugh. "Did you just—"

"Totally did," she said proudly, tugging me upright. "She's my best friend and you can have her back when I'm done." She threw a wink at Nathan, who was now glaring from the floor with disheveled hair and murder in his eyes.

"Are you serious right now?" he hissed, glaring up at her from the hardwood.

"Deadly," Brooke replied sweetly. Then she grinned and turned to me, yanking back the blanket. "Up. I got a fashion show to get to. Not to mention, Haley and Peyton are waiting in the car."

Before I could get a single word in, she had me by the wrist and was dragging me off the bed, still clutching the surrounding blanket. "Brooke—"

"I will get you back for this," Nathan interjected. I looked over my shoulder, finding my boyfriend sitting up on the floor, hair mussed, blanket in his lap, glaring murder at Brooke.

Brooke blew him a kiss. "Love you too, Scotty."

Brooke hauled me out of the room and Nathan's voice made us pause. I turned, finding his gaze on me. "When you get back, I better see you in that shirt."

I blushed as Brooke pulled me down the stairs.

Koa trailed us silently, but I caught the way his jaw twitched—either from secondhand embarrassment or amusement, I couldn't tell.

"Can I at least put on pants?" I asked, glancing down at my very bare legs.

...🏀...

I shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my cropped jean jacket, my fingers curling against the soft lining, keeping them warm. The runway stretched out before me, all polished with harsh lights illuminating it. It was lined with photographers and fashion editors, some I've seen from the countless of magazines that Brooke threw in my face over the years.

"How stinkin' great is this?!" Brooke's voice exploded beside me.

I turned to her, letting a smile curve my lips. She looped her arm through mine, practically bouncing in place like this was her version of Disneyland.

"Well, thanks for coming with me, team," she said sweetly—before side-eyeing Koa with a smirk. "Even you, Rambo."

"Sparkplug," Koa muttered without missing a beat, arms crossed, jaw locked.

He hadn't taken his eyes off the crowd since we got here. 

"Yeah!" Peyton chimed in, ignoring the tension. "We made it."

Before any of us could take another step, a clipboard-wielding woman in a headset stormed by like she owned the entire building. "Guys, guys—this is Rogue Vogue, not prom!" she snapped. "Would you please, please, get rid of those astounding, repulsive streamers before I hang you by them?"

Brooke dropped my arm, stalking toward her with a smile on her face. "Hi."

The woman turned slowly, flashing the kind of tight-lipped smile that screamed fake. "Hi," she echoed before turning, dismissing her.

Brooke hurried to follow her. "Excuse me—I'm Brooke Davis and I just wanted to check my time. I have a little bit of a schedule crunch cuz we're trying to hop a flight tonight back to North Carolina for a cheerleading competition tomorrow." Brooke turned and motioned to us. "My three best friends drove down with me—"

I gave a small wave. "Hi."

"—and I'm in love with them for it. But we wanted to fly back together—"

"The schedule's changed," the woman interrupted flatly.

Brooke blinked. "Okay. Good change or bad change?"

The woman skimmed her clipboard without looking up. "Your clothes aren't shown until tomorrow."

I saw the way Brooke's shoulders stiffened.

"That's a bad change," she muttered.

"Yeah, looks like you've got a cheersion to make," the woman added with a sarcastic smile.

I scoffed, stepping forward. "You don't have to be a bitch about it."

The woman froze, and so did everyone within hearing range.

"Excuse me?" she hissed, heels clicking as she charged toward me.

But before she could close the distance, Koa stepped between us like a wall of muscle and death glares.

A man appeared behind her, sharply dressed in a red blazer with perfectly styled blonde hair and eyes that landed right on me.

"What seems to be the problem?" he asked smoothly.

"The problem," I said, stepping around Koa, "is that we just wanted to check her time. But your girl over there decided to act like Regina George with a clipboard."

"Mylah..." Brooke grabbed my arm, her voice half-scolding, half-terrified.

"And yeah," I added, staring the woman down, "I did say bitch. Because that's how you're acting. And honestly? That's me being nice."

The woman turned sharply. "Chris. Throw her out."

Chris looked at me. Then her. Then me again. "I'm so sorry."

I blinked, shocked. "Um, did he just—"

"Yeah..." Haley whispered. "I think he did."

Chris stepped closer, speaking to the woman like she lost her mind. "Don't you know who she is, Amanda? That's Mylah Evans."

Amanda paled. "Oh."

Chris turned back to me, apologetic. "If we'd known Brooke was your friend, we wouldn't have bumped her time. But we did."

I could feel the heat of everyone's stare in the room. It burned along my skin, and I shifted awkwardly.

This fame this was going to take some time to get used to.

I folded my arms. "First thing's first—Amanda, was it?" She nodded meekly. "Apologize to my best friend."

Amanda turned to Brooke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry."

"And second," I looked back to Chris, "is there any chance you can move her time back to tonight?"

Chris pressed the earpiece deeper into his ear, listening. The tension made my spine stiffen. Brooke squeezed my hand like she was willing the answer out of him.

Finally, Chris nodded. "My boss says that's fine."

Brooke squealed and tackled me in a hug that I almost lost my balance.

"But—" Chris added.

I closed my eyes. "Of course there's a but."

"My boss says Mylah has to be your model."

My eyes snapped open. "I beg your finest pardon?!"

Brooke spun, grabbing my arms. "Please, please, please—!"

Peyton and Haley gave me knowing nods, like I'd already lost the fight.

I sighed. "Fine."

Brooke screamed, pulled me into another hug, and bounced on her heels like a kid on Christmas morning.

Koa looked over at me with a smirk. I shot him a glare, and he held up his hands in response. 

What the hell did I just get myself into?

...🏀...

The bass from the speakers rattled the floor beneath my heels. It was loud enough to drown out my heartbeat, though it did nothing for the pounding in my chest.

I sat stiff in a white leather chair backstage, lips slightly parted while the makeup artist leaned in with the last stroke of lipstick—a deep rose that made my skin pop. Her fingers were steady. Mine weren't.

"Don't move," she murmured, her voice all clipped professionalism.

I couldn't even if I tried. Because my nerves had clawed at me and they weren't letting go anytime soon.

Brooke was pacing like she was the one about to step onto the runway in a pale blue silk dress and four-inch heels. Her hands fluttered at her sides, fingers twitching.

"I'm nervous," she said, eyes wide as she spun back toward me.

I arched a brow. "You're nervous?"

The makeup artist looked at me, nodding at her work, and moved on.

"I'm the one doing the catwalk in a dress that barely covers my ass." I said flatly.

Brooke blew out a breath and waved Peyton over, yanking her from her stool. "I'm going to check the lineup."

"Have fun," I called after her dryly.

Haley slid into the seat beside me, fingers curling around the edge of the bench. She looked everywhere but at me, her cheeks flushed.

"So," I said slowly, watching her from the corner of my eye. "Are we gonna talk about you and my cousin, or...?"

Haley's mouth twitched. "We're dating."

"Oh."

She turned, biting back a smile. "That's it? Just an 'oh'?"

"Do you like him?" I asked, and she nodded, blushing. "Then there's nothing to say. Except Brooke owes me twenty dollars."

She laughed, soft and genuine, then looked down. "It's new. But...I really like him."

"Good," I said, nodding once. "Atlas needs someone who genuinely like him for him and not the movie star."

"Yeah, well...I do."

We didn't say anything else after that, and we didn't have to.

Minutes later, Brooke returned in a frenzy, her clipboard tucked under her arm and strands of hair falling loose from her bun.

"Mylah, you're after the girl in the emerald corset," she said, gesturing vaguely behind her. "I just need you to walk straight, slow, stop at the end and pose."

"Got it," I muttered, standing.

My heels clacked against the floor as I followed her toward the curtain. The dress skimmed my thighs, cool silk brushing skin, the open back letting in every draft in the building.

Brooke turned to face me, hands braced on my shoulders. "You okay?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" I said.

She gave me a strained smile.

"Breathe, B," I said gently, curling my fingers around her wrist. "This is your moment. You made it here. Just...don't forget to enjoy it."

Brooke's eyes softened, and she nodded once before stepping aside.

I exhaled, adjusting the strap at my shoulder, feeling the weight of the moonstone necklace settle against my collarbone like an anchor.

The stagehand with the headset looked at me and nodded.

I stepped forward.

The curtain parted, and the lights hit me like a tidal wave. Flashbulbs snapped in every direction. Heat flared up my neck. My spine straightened instinctively.

I walked.

Each step echoed on the wood beneath me, swallowed by the pulse of the music. My eyes stayed forward. My hands didn't tremble. My breath stayed steady.

But inside—nerves ricocheted against my ribcage. The cameras, the crowd, the weight of all of it pressed down like I was walking underwater.

The things I do for Brooke.

...🏀...

"I used to be happy and wished, more than anything, I could be happy again."

My eyes widened as I froze mid-step, books cradled against my chest. The air caught in my lungs like a fist. Because there it was—me. Well, more like my voice. Echoing from the flat screen bolted to the wall above the lockers, right outside a classroom.

On the screen, I looked younger. Raw. Unfiltered. My voice cracked slightly—like I'd been holding back tears and didn't quite succeed.

"I thought I loved your dad once."

I didn't have to look to know Haley was standing beside me. I could feel her stiffen.

"Mylah..." she whispered, like she already knew what was about to unravel.

I turned to her slowly, my voice low, barely audible over the hallway chatter.

"Why is the time capsule video playing?" I asked, not blinking. "Wasn't it supposed to be buried?"

Haley's lips parted, but no answer came. I didn't need one.

"I thought he loved me too," the version of me on the screen whispered. "But love doesn't hurt like that. He hit me when I didn't do what he wanted. He always said he did it because he loved me."

The hallway turned into a tunnel. My vision blurred at the edges. Every whisper, every glance—sharp, cutting. I didn't even need to look around. I felt it. The stares. The shock. Some pity. A few gasps. And worse—that girl on the screen had just told the entire school.

Not just a friend.

Not just Nathan.

Everyone.

I slammed my locker shut, the metallic clank loud enough to draw a few heads. My fingers curled around the strap of my bag as I pivoted and shoved through the crowd.

Koa fell into step beside me, and I didn't speak. Couldn't. My heartbeat roared in my ears as I shoved the front doors open, blinking against the cold sunlight.

I made it halfway across the lot before a voice called out behind me.

"Is it true?"

I froze, pulse skipping. That familiar voice was laced with venom.

My stomach dropped.

I didn't turn around. Just kept walking.

He moved faster. I felt his hand close around my arm like a steel clamp, jerking me to a stop.

"I said—is it true?"

I yanked my arm back. "Let me go."

His face twisted. "I want to know if it's true. If what you said in that video—about me. About... her."

His voice dropped an octave.

"Is she mine?"

Koa moved like lightning. His body wedged between us, hands gripping Andrew's wrists and tearing them off me like they were made of paper.

"Don't touch her," he growled.

Andrew glared, but stepped back.

His eyes snapped to me. "Answer me."

Everything inside me—every part I'd worked so hard to glue back together—felt like it was shaking again.

A tear slipped out before I could stop it.

"Yes," I said. My voice barely made it past my throat. "She's yours."

Silence cracked wide between us.

"I want to see her," he barked.

"No." I met his eyes. My voice, though soft, was firm—cold.

"I'll see her one way or another," Andrew snapped. "You can't keep her away from me forever."

I took a step closer, something rising in me I hadn't felt in years. Not fear. Not panic.

Fury.

I looked into those dark, hollow eyes that used to haunt my nightmares. I let him see what he'd created.

"After the way you treated me," I said, my voice sharp and deadly quiet, "I think I can."

His jaw clenched.

"Come near my daughter, Andrew, and it'll be the last thing you ever do."

His brows lifted, like he couldn't believe I said it.

"Is that a threat?" he sneered.

"No." I squared my shoulders, fire coiling in my chest. "It's a promise."

For a moment, neither of us moved. Koa stood like a boulder between us, hands clenched at his sides, eyes locked on Andrew.

Andrew finally scoffed and backed away, muttering something under his breath before turning and storming off.

I didn't breathe again until he was gone.

The silence he left behind felt heavier than when he was here.

Koa turned to me slowly. "You good?"

No. Not even close.

But I nodded.

My legs felt shaky as I walked back toward my car. Koa didn't press me. He never did. He just followed, always two steps behind.

Once I made it to the driver's seat, I dropped my bag and collapsed into the seat, gripping the wheel with both hands, head bowed low.

That video had been buried. A memory locked away in some school time capsule no one was ever supposed to see again.

And now the entire school knew.

Now Andrew knew.

And maybe, for the first time, really knew the truth.

And even though I was terrified of what came next—of what he might do—there was one thing I knew with complete certainty.

He wasn't getting near my daughter.

Not ever.

...🏀...

I'd counted every speck of dust under this damn desk. The number—113.

It's been two weeks—two exhausting weeks since the time capsule. Since the entire school got a front-row seat to my trauma. Since the internet devoured it and spit out headlines with my name in bold, but not only that—my daughter was thrust into the spotlight. One that was filled with rumors and hostile threats. I wanted it be her choice to be seen in the spotlight, but that was stripped from her—from me.

Now everywhere I turned, it was whispers and camera flashes. Probing questions disguised as concern. I could barely get out of my house or even into school without a reporter throwing a mic into my face.

"Who's the father?"

"You have a daughter?"

"Why did you keep her a secret?"

"Who is the real Mylah?"

I curled tighter beneath the desk, letting my head fall back against the wood. The chill of it kissed the back of my neck as I gripped my phone, trying to block out the sound of footsteps outside the tutoring center. Koa sat in the corner near the door, legs stretched out, arms folded, watching like always with that stoic look on his face.

My phone buzzed. I answered before the second ring, pressing it to my ear like a lifeline.

"How's my girl doing?" Nathan's voice rumbled, soft and warm.

A slow, soft smile curved my lips. "You don't have to call every hour, you know."

"I know. I want to." He said easily and my heart squeezed at his answer. "We just got done at the Bobcats' facility and I wanted to check in."

I sighed, eyes fluttering shut for a second, welcoming the much needed distraction. "How was it?"

"Good." He said. "Did you go to your classes today?"

"Nope." I exhaled, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "I'm seriously thinking of finishing the year in this room. Away from everyone."

Nathan chuckled under his breath. "We're like five minutes out. I'll walk you to your next class."

It was such a simple offer, but so him—it almost brought tears to my ears. I didn't utter a word, just let the silence speak for me.

"I was also thinking..." Nathan hesitated. "We should get away this weekend."

That perked me up. "Go where?"

"My mom got the beach house in the divorce. We could head up there. Just us. You, me, and Leila."

Warmth bloomed in my chest. The thought of escaping—even if it was just for a weekend—was the most appealing thing in the world.

"I'd love that," I whispered. "But are you sure it's not because you saw me buying new lingerie?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

I rolled my eyes at the cheekiness in his tone. "Sure."

A gunshot echoed through the air like thunder and I went still. Terrified screams reached my ears a half second later. I could feel the thumping of my heart against my ears drowning out the screams as another gunshot went off.

"Mylah?" Nathan's voice sharpened. "What's going on?"

I scrambled from under the desk and my eyes lock with Koa's. "I—"

Koa pushed the chair back, getting to his feet. His hands moved to his side, pulling at a holster I was just now noticing and drawing a gun.

My stomach drop. "You brought a fucking gun?"

"Don't ask stupid questions," he muttered. "Of course I have a gun. I'm your bodyguard."

"Code red, code red," Principal Turner's voice echoed from the overhead speaker. "This is not a drill."

Nathan's voice crackled through the phone again, panic bleeding into every word. "Mylah, talk to me."

My fingers tightened around the phone. "Nathan—"

"All students to a designated lock-down area. This is code red. Repeat this is a code red," the intercom blared over him. "...go to a designated lock-down area or exit the school. Immediately."

Another shot and I flinched as the glass of the tutoring center's door shattered. Koa moved in front of me and jerked back. My eyes widened as he grunted, grabbing his side as blood pools through his fingers.

"No!" I dropped beside him, catching his weight as he collapsed, taking me to the ground with him. "Koa—shit. Stay with me."

My hand pressed over the wound, shaking, and my phone dropped to the ground beside me. I could faintly catch Nathan's voice on the other end and lift one hand pressing speaker just as someone yanked me up by the arm.

A scream caught in my throat and I was forcibly pulled just as Nathan's voice yelled, "Mylah!"

Andrew had a vice grip on my arm, dragging me back. I felt the cold press of metal against my side before I even saw the gun.

"Make a sound." He threatened in my ear. "And you won't have a best friend anymore."

A whimper sounded and my breath hitched at Brooke landed on the ground, curling near Koa. His face twisted in pain, still conscious—but barely.

So...I kept my mouth shut.

Andrew smiled darkly and picked up my phone from the floor. "She can't come to the phone right now. She's...a little busy with me."

"I swear to fucking god if you fucking hurt her or touch her..." Nathan growled. "I will fucking find you and I will kill you."

"You're never going to find her." Andrew taunted.

He tossed the phone down and pulled the trigger. The screen exploded, and I flinched every nerve on high alert of the danger that I was currently in.

"Why are you doing this?" I mumbled, every world trembling.

Andrew moved closer until only a sliver of space was separating us and he placed his hand on the back of my neck, holding me in place, his fingers curling into my skin like a fucking leash.

"One day, you're going to be mine, Mylah," he whispered, his breath hot against my temple. "And he can't do anything about it."

He traced the barrel of the gun down my cheek. I didn't move. I didn't even fucking breathe.

"At least that's what I used to think. But baby, I'm tired of waiting."

"Principal Turner called the cops." I whispered, forcing myself to remain calm because Koa and Brooke needed me. "The school's gonna be surrounded."

"It doesn't matter," He said, his grip tightening. "Either we leave together...or not at all."

It wasn't the first time, but his eyes darkened and I could the truth that shone there.

"You and Leila are going to be with me. One way or another."

He raised his gun again, pressing it directly to my forehead.

"If you don't want our daughter to suffer," he said coldly. "you'll do everything I say. Or she'll grow up without her mom."

...🏀...

"He needs a doctor."

Andrew paced the room, keeping the gun in his hand at his side, never letting it go, not in the four hours they had been trapped in the tutoring center. "Not until I get what I want."

I sucked in a breath as the black zip bit into my wrist from the arms of the chair I was bound to. Brooke was still on the ground, her jacket off, using it to put pressure on Koa's wound. He was getting worse by the hour. Koa's usually golden brown skin went pale and sweat formed droplets on his forehead and upper lip. He was trembling and Brooke's eyes like mine gleam with concern.

I turned to Andrew, steadying my breath. "What do you want, Andrew?"

"Mylah—" Brooke shook her head, knowing she see the look in my eyes.

He stopped and turned to me. "You and Leila. I want for us to be a family."

"We can't be a family, Andrew." I looked at him with pain in my voice. "You don't beat your family. You don't lock your family into closets when other guys speak to them. You don't almost drown your family when they try to leave."

"You were trying to leave me." Andrew pointed out like it was justified what he did.

A tear fell down my cheek. "You don't...rape your family."

He moved, and I braced as he raised the gun. But he just shoved the gun into the waistband of his pants before cupping my cheeks. "I love you."

Those words meant everything to me in another life—in another time. When I was a girl who was too young to fully understand what Andrew did to me. When I was a little girl who was just surviving the monster who had his claws into me and never going to let go. Because those very words would have me give in. But the thing is...I'm not that girl anymore and I would never be that girl again.

"You need to let Koa get help, Andrew." I pleaded. "He's dying, please!"

Andrew's jaw ticked, and he turned, looking at Koa and Brooke on the floor. "You want me to let them go?" I nodded, and he dropped his hands, shoving one hand into the pocket of his pants, pulling out a knife and I went still. "Then you know the price, baby."

He quickly cut the zip locks, pulling me to my feet. "You'll let them go?"

"Don't." Koa gritted out.

My eyes snapped to his and I could see the plead there. I turned to Brooke, my best friend, and I could see a plead in her eyes and my heart clenched. Because to save Koa—to save her. I'll have to make a deal with the devil himself.

"What will it be?" Andrew asked, rubbing his thumb on my cheek.

I blinked and swallowed my fear. "Okay." Brooke's sobs were the first to hit my ears, and I had to close my eyes as another tear slipped down my cheek. "You let them go and I'll go with you."

It took me a while to muster the courage to look into Andrew's eyes, but I did. That wicked smirk that haunts my dreams stared back at me and he cupped the back of my neck, kissing my temple and it took everything in me to not to shudder in repulsion.

"Then let's go baby."

Andrew had to carry Koa out of the tutoring center, with Brooke and me following closely behind. The halls of Tree Hill High were deathly quiet and grim. It was oddly fitting. Because I was going with Andrew, I knew—and so did Brooke—that itself is a death sentence.

But I would do it again. Because I couldn't let Koa die, not when he wasn't just my bodyguard...he was my friend. And Brooke—god Brooke along with Haley and Peyton are like sisters I never had. I would die for them and I know they would do the same. So I had to do this. Because I needed Brooke to be safe. I needed her to look out for Leila for me and apologize.

Because, like Andrew said, we're not making it out of here alive. Not today.

We stopped by the front doors and I ignored the glass scattered around the floor from the broken double doors that lead outside. Instead, I turn to Brooke and pulled her into a hug, squeezing her tight. She immediately hugged me back, just as tightly.

A soft smile graced my lips as I felt her shaking in my arms. "I'm going to be okay."

"You don't know that," Brooke mumbled against my curls.

"Maybe, but I need you to look after Leila for me."

She pulled back and her brows furrowed as she stared at me. "Mya—"

"I love you Brooke Penelope Davis and when you cross those doors, I need you to run fast for me." I stared into her eyes and I begged that she didn't fight me.

Brooke swallowed tightly. "Okay. I love you too, Mylah Persephone Evans."

I stepped back just as Andrew placed Koa's arm around Brooke's neck and she grimaced, holding him up. Andrew's back was to me and I looked at Brooke, giving her a nod. She slowly turned with Koa limping beside her and I feel my chest pounding in my chest.

Keep her safe.

"Now let's go get—"

He didn't get a chance to finish as I slipped the knife from inside my boot, flipping the blade and stabbed into his side. Andrew screamed, and I stabbed him again, blood soaking my fingers as I aimed up. He stumbled from me and I held the knife between us. I looked up, finding Brooke staring at me with wide eyes and worry.

"Go Brooke!"

She listened.

I didn't wait and slowly backed away as Andrew whirled to me, gripping his side, glaring at me, seething with anger.

"Drop it, Mylah, and I won't kill you," Andrew choked out.

I jerked my arm back, and with a flip of my wrist, let go of the knife. It landed in the space between where his shoulder chest meet. Andrew cried out, and I didn't wait I turned weaponless and ran. I pumped my arms and ran, heading for the stairs leading up to the second level, knowing it wouldn't take Andrew long to recover and he was going to be pissed.

A gunshot echoed, and I slammed against the railing of the stairs, lifting my gaze finding a bullet hold just where my head was. I gripped the stairs, taking two at a time, and moved, trying not to flinch at another gunshot that hit the lights above my head, shattering glass on me.

"I will find you!" Andrew screamed from far away.

I reached the third floor and didn't stop. My hands reached for doors and I tugged on them, hoping to find one of the administrator's offices opened. I almost gave up hope when one opened and I ripped it open and closed it softly behind me.

My head whirled around finding a couch and I grabbed the end of it and pushed, gritting my teeth until it was up against the door barricading me against the lunatic that would soon be on the other side.

I moved to the other side of the room, away from the windows, and tried to calm my racing heart. There was no time to panic or let my fear over take me. I promised myself that I was done letting my fear of Andrew have control over me, and I meant that. 

Because I wasn't going down without a fight.

Pain sliced through the adrenaline, and my breath hitched at the pain in my side. My hand comes to clutch my side, and I pulled it back. It was coated in blood. My eyes trailed down landed on my side, just below my ribs under the hem of my gray crewneck crop top was blood pooling through my white tank top, was a knife sticking out of me.

Slowly, I slid down the wall, gritting my teeth from the pain and exhaling harshly through my nose. I placed my hand over the wound and closed my eyes before gripping the knife and, with a tug, ripped it out. A silent scream escaped my lips, and I shook from the white hot pain, a few tears slipping through down my cheeks.

He fucking stabbed me.

...🏀...

My cheek lolled against the wall coldness of the wall, soothing my fever-hot ache in my side. 

The sun had started to set beyond the blinds, slicing the room into gold and shadows. I couldn't tell how long I'd been bleeding. But it was getting harder to keep my eyes open. Everything was getting fuzzy, and I was getting weaker. 

The office backdoor slammed open, and I flinched at the noise, blinking hard. Boots thudded against the floor. 

"Jesus, Mylah." 

I barely turned my head and my eyes widened at the person standing in the doorway. 

What the hell? 

"Dan?" 

"Here," he said, crouching low beside me, his voice ragged as he yanked off his suit jacket and pressed it against my side. 

Pain seared through me, sharp, and I hissed. My vision tunneled for a second, then came crashing back in.

"God, I should've found you sooner," he muttered, mostly to himself. 

I blinked up at him, unsure if I was hallucination or if Dan the devil incarnate Scott was actually kneeling beside me with something that like concern etched into his face. 

He tightened the jacket against the wound. I choked back a cry. 

"I need you to stay with me," he said, jaw tight. "We need to get out of here." 

"Andrew," I croaked, throat raw and dry. "He—he..." 

"I don't give a damn about that psychotic son of a bitch," Dan growled. "He and his twisted excuse of a mother lied to me about everything. About you."

I blinked hard, trying to stay conscious, my head lolling.

"And both of my sons," he continued, voice quieter now, "they need you. Especially Nathan."

He slid an arm carefully around my waist. When he lifted, I cried out, breath catching as agony shot through me like fire. He froze, muttering a soft "Sorry," like he didn't quite know how to say it out loud.

A shaky laugh escaped me. "Did Dan Scott just apologize?"

"Yeah," he whispered. "I did."

I looked up at him, meeting his eyes. And for the first time, there was no arrogance, no wall of steel. Just exhaustion and regret. 

"I was a damn asshole to you," he said. "It shouldn't have taken this—shouldn't have taken Nathan storming into the school to get to you—for me to see how wrong I've been about everything."

My breath caught. "Nathan ran in here?"

"Of yes. Nothing was stopping him from getting to you." Dan explained, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Before I could even begin to process it, the back door burst open again. I turned, finding Nathan standing in the doorway, his blue eyes locked on mine like I was the only thing in the room. 

"Mylah," 

I tried to stand, but my knees buckled. Nathan reached me in three steps, cupping my face, resting his forehead against mine. His hands trembled against my skin. I whimpered as he held me close, but my side screamed in protest. 

He jerked back panic sliced through his features as he glanced down at the dark red soaking Dan's jacket. 

Dan stepped forward. "We need to get out of here—now."

But it seemed like the universe had other plans as the back door slammed open again. 

Andrew burst through the door. His eyes are wild, unhinged. Blood seeped from the gash on his shoulder and side—where I'd stabbed him. It looked like it didn't even faze him at all. All he saw was me. 

And the gun in his hand was aimed straight at Nathan. 

"No!" I shouted, but the word barely left my lips before a shot rang out. 

Nathan and Dan lunged for me, dragging me down, covering me with their bodies. My head hit the ground hard, and my vision went dark for half a second. But it was enough for another shot to ring out and glass shattered. 

I lifted my head in a daze just as fingers latched onto my ankle and yanked. 

I screamed. 

He hauled me toward him, dragging me across the floor. I kicked, thrashed, but he was too strong. Andrew climbed over me, pressing his knee into my thigh and shoving the gun against my temple. 

"Back off!" he shouted at Dan and Nathan. "I swear to God, I will fucking kill her." 

They both went still. Nathan lifted his hands and Dan mirrored him, their faces were unreadable. 

I didn't move. The barrel of the gun was cold against my skin. 

"You hurt me," Andrew said, panting. "You stabbed me, Mylah. After everything I did for you—for us..."

"There's no us," I whispered.

His eyes flared, and I could tell he didn't like that answer. "I love you." 

"No," I said tiredly. "You don't, and I don't think you ever did. You wanted to own me like some kind of toy. That's not love."

The gun in this hand shook, and there was nothing but anger in his dark eyes leaving behind the monster that he desperately tried to hide from the world. But I knew it was there. He couldn't hide it from me. 

"If I can't have you...no one can." 

It all happened in slow motion. Andrew cocked the gun, and I braced for taking my last breath. But a gunshot echoed through the air. 

Andrew's body jerked backward. A hole bloomed in the center of his chest. 

Another shot rang out. And then another. 

Two more holes pooled with blood on his chest. Andrew's eyes widened. He looked down at himself—stunned—before he fell back, beside them with a sickening thud. 

Dead. 

He's fucking dead. 

Silence fell upon the room, all except for my pulse hammering in my ears. 

I looked up. Dan stood, his gun stilled, raised. His jaw clenched and his breath was heavy. And it only took a couple seconds before he lowered the weapon. 

Nathan was by my side in a blink, hands cradling my face. 

"Mylah," he begged, voice hoarsely shaking. 

My eyelids felt heavy as I blinked, looking at him. My heart ache at the pain in his eyes mixed with the worry in his voice. 

"Nathan..." 

The room tilted and everything turned blur once again. It was taking the last bit of my strength to keep my eyes open and look at him as darkness peeked at the edges of my vision. 

My eyes fluttered shut.

Nathan kissed my forehead, tears dripping onto my cheeks. "Please baby, open your eyes..." 

I tried. 

God, did I try. But the darkness covered me like a soft blanket, feeling so inviting and welcoming. The pain was gone, and I knew consciously that was bad. That feeling nothing was not a good fucking sign. But I'd been in pain for so long. That letting go sounds like such a relief to that life I had been living. 

So despite what Nathan wanted. My will to fight was gone. So...

I let go. 

...🏀...

𝐀/𝐍: I'M BACK BITCHES!!!!

Literally, life has been keeping me busy along with writing my debut book. But my babies have pulled me back so here I am. 

I KNOW I LEFT Y'ALL ON A CLIFFHANGER...I'M SORRY. 

But on the bright side, Andrew is dead. Honestly, I wasn't going to kill him yet kinda want him to have to go to jail for what he put Mylah through, but it just felt right for him to die here. Also, yes I going from the tv show by having Keith live and Dan instead killed off Andrew. It was the least he could do. 

Don't worry, Mylah is not dead. Just giving poor Nathan a heart attack. He's never going to let her out of his side now, guys. 

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy the update. 

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: How do we feel about the book so far? How are we feeling now that Andrew is dead? Dan apologized? How are we feeling about Keith still being alive? What else are you guys looking forward to or wanting in the rest of the act???

-𝑀𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛𝑎 𝐵𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘