The Prey

I stared at the ceiling.

You’ve already had me… even the pieces you broke.

What was I thinking? Why did I say it? Those words tasted bitter on my tongue now, shame rising like bile in my throat. What he must be thinking? I turned my face into the pillow, groaning against the suffocating heat in my cheeks. He hadn’t even touched me again after that. He’d left the bed cold again.

And then, as though his absence wasn’t enough, his words still clung to me. You’re the light I can never touch, the salvation I don’t deserve.

Liar.

I pushed the thought aside as I swung my...