Riley met me every step of the way, giving back as good as he got, his teeth nipping my lips, his fingers digging into my ass, and I loved it.

“You want it rough?” he asked against my mouth, hauling me up against him and grinding his erection into me. “Is that what this is about? You want me to fuck you hard?”

No. I wanted to fuck him hard. I wanted it faster. Rougher. More intense.

I wanted something more than what I had now because it wasn’t helping. I needed something, anything, so I could feel in control again. So this helplessness wouldn’t eat me alive.

Pressing my hands to his bare chest, I pushed, forcing him backward until his knees hit the couch and he toppled down. He reached out and grabbed my wrist, yanking me down next to him, and then he rolled, pinning me between the arm of the couch and his body. And even though I wasn’t really trapped, even though I could easily slip out, that panic inched its way up my chest, cold fingers grappling at my throat. I had to close my eyes and remind myself that this was okay. Everything was okay.

This was Riley. It was just Riley.

And I wanted it. I wanted him.

I thought—hoped—that would be enough. That it’d be like the other times I’d felt like this, when I’d been able to gain control and let my memories slip down deep where they belonged. Except it wasn’t like every other time, because when he leaned into me, the hard ridges of his body pushing down along mine, pressing me into the arm of the couch, it wasn’t his body I felt. It was another one instead. And even though Riley wasn’t pinning me until I couldn’t move, my mind conjured up the last time I had been pinned down, held in place. Held there so I couldn’t struggle … couldn’t even move.

And I tried so hard to stay present. Did everything I could think of to try and stay in the moment. I breathed through it, pushing back that panic creeping up my spine, but it didn’t help. No matter how many times I said it in my mind, how many times I breathed in Riley’s scent, knowing it wasn’t stale smoke and spicy cologne, that it wasn’t the scent that could still manage to make me sick, it didn’t matter. None of it mattered because I felt the memory of someone else’s hands on my stomach, on my breasts. Someone else’s lips on my mouth, my neck, my chest.

Clenching my eyes shut, I repeated to myself a hundred times that this was Riley. This was Riley and this was my choice and everything was fine. But my body and brain weren’t communicating, and despite the words repeating over and over in my head, I couldn’t stop the images of so long ago from coming back to me. Bombarding me. Consuming me. And with each flash in my mind, my breathing got faster. Harsher. Until Riley finally noticed, pulling back.

“Evie?”

“No…” I choked out, mangling the single syllable, and then I couldn’t manage any words at all. I pressed against his chest with feeble hands, my breaths coming in gasps. Riley’s eyes got wide and he pulled back, but it was too late. Even though he wasn’t against me anymore, that didn’t stop what I knew was coming.

My throat closed up, my chest tightening, and I couldn’t get in enough air. Waves of panic rushed over my body, my skin prickling with heat. Riley was talking, but I couldn’t understand his words, could only hear the cadence of his voice. I couldn’t swallow, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t control the chattering of my teeth despite my body burning up, and all I could think about, all I could remember was the last time.

All I ever remembered was the last time.

In my tiny little box of a room, no space to move even with only a single twin bed in it. Quiet and pitch-black, always dark. Scratchy sheets under my skin, my throat raw and sore from sobbing, from screaming, and then there was always that feeling of weakness. Complete and utter helplessness. That no matter how hard I struggled, how much I thrashed, how loud I screamed, it wouldn’t matter. No one would hear me. No one would come. He’d overpower me anyway.

He always did.

“Baby, breathe. Follow what I do. Listen to me, Evie. Listen to my breaths. In and out, in and out. Come on.”

I blinked away the memories, the rushing heartbeat in my ears finally receding enough that I could try and focus on not just Riley’s voice but also the words he was saying. He was squatting in front of me, his hand a gentle pressure on my back as he murmured bits of encouragement, and I wanted to break down. Right there, on this couch that wasn’t mine with a man who wasn’t mine, either, I wanted to cry. I’d never allowed myself that, not after I’d left. After I’d run all those years ago, I hadn’t broken down. Not once. But now? I wanted to release it all, get rid of it once and for all, because I was so sick of letting it have this hold over me. After so many years, I was still letting this rule my life.

Letting him rule my life.

“Listen to my voice, okay? Just focus on me. That’s it. When I used to get these as a kid, Gage would talk me out of them. Tell me stupid stories that I don’t even remember, but just focusing on his voice, listening to him helped. I want you to do that, okay?”

With the barest move of my head, I nodded, keeping my eyes closed and trying desperately to focus on him, on his words, even through the wheezing rasps of my breaths that echoed as loud as a bullhorn in my ears.

“Did I ever tell you about the first time I saw you?” He laughed, a breathless, self-deprecating sound. “No, I probably wouldn’t have, because it’d make me sound like a pussy. I’d seen you in school a couple times, just in the hall, and even before I knew anything about you, I was curious. You were hot as hell and so unapproachable with this … fuck-everything-and-everyone attitude. And then one day after school, I went to meet up with my brother, and there you were. Standing over by him and Aaron and the rest of the guys their age, and I hated it. I was pissed as hell that you were already around him, especially when I saw you first. And back then everyone called me Kid, and I’d thought I was fucked. But then you’d looked at me, smiled that smile I love so much—the one where your dimple pops up. Did you know your beauty mark disappears in it when you smile like that?”

As I listened to the soft cadence of his voice and focused on his words, the buzzing in my ears lessened, the awful, crushing weight on my chest easing enough so I could think back to the day he was talking about. The first day I’d followed a sort of friend there, the first day I’d stepped into that life. And hearing it from Riley’s perspective was so different from how I remembered it. I wanted to tell him I’d felt like a complete poseur, fumbling my way through shit I had no business being involved in. That I’d thought at any second, someone would call me out for being fake, and that would be it, but I couldn’t get my voice to work, couldn’t talk past the anxiety still gripping my throat.

“But then you came back the next day and then the next and the next, and it was like I’d won the fucking lottery. But of course I didn’t do anything about it. I thought you liked Gage, because you were always hanging around him, but then you asked me to come with you on your first job, and that was it. I was gone. You had me wrapped around your finger from that moment on. I probably shouldn’t tell you that—give you more ammunition against me—but there’s not really a point in denying it.”

Riley didn’t stop. He never let up, hardly took a moment to even breathe, it seemed like, as he kept talking about the days back in high school, those early months when we’d first started seeing each other. And through everything, I listened with my eyes closed. Through every story, every memory, I tried to control my breaths, matching each inhale and exhale to the slow circle of his hand on my back, and eventually that tightness in my chest lightened until I could drag in lungfuls of air without struggle. I focused on his words and forgot about everything else. Eventually, my teeth stopped chattering, the cold sweats that had swept over my body passed, and I was left with this overwhelming relief that it was over. That I could breathe again.