I heard the rustle of clothes and the distinct sound of a zipper. Mom glanced in the rearview mirror, noticing I was hovering. "What's wrong? Why are you standing?"

"He's just helping me... get comfortable," I lied, my voice tight.

"Okay, settle down back there," she said, turning her focus back to the road. She had no idea. My stepdad had just freed himself, preparing to do the most forbidden thing imaginable while she drove us to our new home. I could have stopped him. I should have. But the craving in my veins was stronger than my conscience.

I felt him shift beneath me, slouching back to create a...