Ecstasy

He laughs but it dies quickly, and then he steps closer to me, leaning down to get in my face. “Do you remember what you did last night? After we got back here? After I took you home from a party that you might’ve gotten gang raped at?” His voice is low, but I can sense his rage, and it makes my stomach twist up in knots. He’s usually so loud and obnoxious; when he’s all quiet and shit it’s a little u

But he ca

No way. He would’ve torn this house apart. Probably set the mattress on fire with me in it.

I need water. I need to go home. I need to get the fuck out of here.

But I do not need Alex fucking Cardi in my face talking about a potential rape of all things.

Because I remember. I remember what Jax said.

“No, but you wa

“Because I what?” he snarls, stepping closer again.

I swallow, still tasting that vile drug drip taste in the back of my throat. Crossing my arms, I look down at the floor, not wanting to admit it. Not wanting to tell him exactly why I don’t want to be without him. Even if I do stupid shit. Even if I fucking blew Jamal Clint.

Even if I just fucked around with his best friend.

It’s stupid. Idiotic.

I can’t say it.

I don’t say it.

Because you make me feel safe.

I’m an idiot.

I shake my head, meet his gaze again. “Nothing. You said you needed space, I’ll give it to you, okay? Just, take me home. Go to Riha

He shoves me.

He actually fucking shoves me.

I sink down onto his bed, losing my balance, and before I can jump back up, he steps between my legs and grabs my wrists, pi

“Get off me,” I snarl.

His eyes are blank. Dark and dead and he’s breathing hard, his bare chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale and I think about what Jax said. I think about watching Alex break Nate’s nose. The blood pouring down his face. How he swept me up in his arms right after without a care.

I think about him forcing that bottle into my mouth. Jumping with me into the pool when he knew I wouldn’t be able to swim.

He tightens his hold on my wrist.

I don’t know if I’m afraid. I’m not sure if I think he’ll hurt me. But maybe I’m just used to treating people like shit and being treated like shit. Maybe that’s the comedown talking because everything feels kind of heavy and sad and some weird part of me wants to fold myself into Alex’s arms even though he’s not looking at me right now like he wants to hug me. Unless a hug constitutes squeezing someone so hard, they choke to death.

“What did you do last night, Zara? What did you fucking do?”

I suck in a breath, swallow a few times. My throat feels tight, but I keep reminding myself this room would be torn to pieces if he knew.

He doesn’t know.

“What are you talking about?” I hate how my voice turns up at the end of that question, hate how his eyes flash when I ask it.

I hate how he smirks at me. “You don’t remember.” It isn’t a question.

“Alex.” I swallow, try to push up, but he yanks my arms down, keeping me on his bed. “I have to go.” I try to find a reason I need to go and come up with, “My mom—”

“Your mom know you were snorting shit up your nose last night? Think I should tell her about that, huh? Maybe I’ll go with you to the engagement party and make an a

I furrow my brow, feeling suddenly clammy, my palms sweaty as I grip his sheets. “How do you even know I was snorting—”

“Your good friend Jax told me.”

“Shit,” I swear under my breath, going with this deflection. If he’s pissed about me doing drugs, that’s okay. I can live with that. I’m sure Alex asked him what the fuck I was on and Jax, being a fucking drug dealer, didn’t think shit about it. I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. That was really none of your business. But speaking of moms, if yours needs a reputable dealer for all that Xanax she’s doing, Jax is definitely her guy.”

I know it’s a low blow. I know I shouldn’t have said it. I used a secret he shared with me against him. A moment where I met his family and knew his mom had a problem. And I know, I know it’s wrong, but I can talk drugs all day long.

Eli, though, I can’t.

Alex lets go of my wrists and digs his fingers into my thighs, pressing his weight into me as he leans in, his breath against my mouth. “Don’t ever talk about my fucking mother. I—”

“Fine,” I snap. “I won’t talk about your mother, but I am not your problem, Alex—”

“You are.” He presses his forehead to mine, his fingers tightening painfully around my thighs. “You are my problem, Zara. It’s why you’re in my bed. It’s why I picked you up last night.” I watch him swallow, watch him close his eyes. And for a moment, I feel guilty about something besides Eli.

I feel guilty about all the drugs and last night and even texting him in the first place. I feel guilty for trying—and failing—to hide my problem even from him. For lying to my mother. I feel guilty about all of it.

“Why did you take your shirt off in front of my best friend last night?” he asks me, catching me completely off guard.

What?

What the actual fuck?

I’m so genuinely confused, all I can manage is a, “What the fuck are you talking about?” Despite the fact I didn’t do what he said, I feel my cheeks grow warm, and I’m so glad his eyes are closed.

Just keep them closed. Just keep them closed.

“Eli said you went downstairs, and he was there, and you… God, what did you do, Za?” His voice is hoarse, his words quiet, and his eyes, they’re squeezed shut, like he’s anticipating what I might tell him. What I might say.

Eli fucking lied. He lied to him. We got away with it, and he screwed it all up.

“I didn’t, I don’t know what you—”

“Tell me the truth, Zara.” Alex’s voice is still strained, his eyes still closed.

And I want to tell him. For one wild second, I want to tell Alex. I want to tell him that Eli is a fucking liar. That something is wrong with his best friend. Eli Addison is not right. He’s full of shit, and I didn’t fucking flash him, he fingered me.

I want to tell him, but I can’t do it.

I’m not that brave. Eli put me in this position, and he knows it. He fucking knows it.

I’m going to kill him.

The only thing I can do is deny it. “I don’t know what you’re—”

Alex’s eyes fly open and he grabs my throat, his brow still pressed to mine. “Stop fucking lying to me, Za! Stop fucking lying!” He’s breathing hard, his eyes locked onto mine. “I am so fucking sick of your bullshit!” But his voice breaks on those last words.

And there’s more than anger there.

He’s scared.

He’s scared for me.

“Alex…”

His grip on my throat loosens and he slides his hand down to my shoulder, then up through my hair, his fingers grazing my scalp. The little hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and he steps closer to me, between my thighs.

I lift my hands, run them over his back, feeling the strength in his muscles. His warm, smooth skin. He’s so familiar to me. His body is so…mine.