27

Blair

Present

I’m a freaking mess.

I sprint from the warehouse until my lungs are screaming and my right ankle throbs with every step. It’s only when I can’t run another inch that I manage to actually stop shaking long enough to call a cab.

As I slide into the back seat, I catch my reflection in the window. My clothes are filthy, my bare legs scraped up, makeup smudged, and my hair tangled, the ribbon in my hair slipping down my shoulder. I look like I’ve been through a war.

But it was a war that I won.

I should feel invincible. I took control of my own life tonight; I seized what I needed to make my dreams come true. But in the process, I lost the only other thing that’s ever mattered to me.

Asher.

The cab slows to a stop at the end of my street, and I step out, breathing in the early morning air. Dawn is breaking, streaks of pale light piercing the darkness of the sky. It should feel like a fresh start, but instead, dread coils tight in my stomach. Can I pretend this was all just a bad dream? Can I go inside, shower it off, and trick myself into thinking I earned this money in some less blood-stained way?

Sugar . My phone. I’d totally forgotten about it. I slip it out of my purse and turn it back on. It buzzes as it lights up. Then buzzes again. And again and again. My stomach melts into a pool of anxiety as I watch twenty different missed calls and texts light up the screen.

Mom, Wes, even Mackenzie. They know I was gone all night.

I look up at the house. The lights are on, and I can see a silhouette pacing by the window. My heart races as I push open the door, the creak echoing through the hallway. My parents are there, standing in the entryway, staring at me with a mix of shock and anger.

“Hi,” I say. For once, my voice is steady, almost defiant.

Wes appears from the living room, his gaze sweeping over me, eyes widening in shock. “Jesus, Blair. What the hell happened to you? You look like you’ve been to hell and back.”

I shrug. “Yeah, I did something like that.”

“Where were you?” Mom’s voice is sharp, trembling with anger. “I went to your room, and you were gone. No note, nothing. Do you have any idea what we’ve been through? We thought you were dead.”

She’s staring at me with that look of hers, the one that cuts right through me, full of accusation. “Were you with that boy? ”

I know exactly which boy she means. I could spit the word "yes" in her face, throw it back at her, but I’m done with this game. Tonight, I did things they’d never believe. I don’t need their approval anymore.

Instead, I pull out my phone and scroll to my email. I bring up the college acceptance letter, the ticket to my freedom. I want to accept the offer right in front of them.

“I’m going to dance school,” I say. “I’m not getting married. Not to Wes or anyone.”

My mother frowns, the shock flickering into something colder. “College? With what money, Blair? You think that little barista job is going to pay the way? If you walk out now, me and your father will not be here to pick up the pieces when you run out of cash after half a semester.”

I lock eyes with her, feeling an unfamiliar sense of control settle over me. “That won’t be a problem. I’ve already earned enough.”

She looks taken aback. “Enough? For what, the semester?”

“No.” I drop the bag at my feet, the zipper tugging open. I pull out a thick wad of cash, waving it right under Wes’s nose. “Enough for all of school. And then some.”

Wes’s face flushes an ugly shade of red, his jaw clenching as he stares at the cash. “What the hell, Blair? How did you get that kind of money? Have you been… whoring yourself out?”

I force myself to stay calm, ignoring the fury boiling inside me. “No, Wes, but thanks for the typically insightful question.”

I push past him, heading for the stairs, but before I can take another step, Wes grabs my wrist, yanking me back. I stumble, my back slamming against the wall as he towers over me, his face twisted with rage. Strands of his blond hair fall out of its neatly slicked back place as he leans into me.

“We had a deal,” he hisses, his grip tightening painfully. “Our families have been close for generations. It all makes sense. Don’t screw this up for us, Blair.”

I shove against him, my hands pressing into his chest, but he doesn’t budge, his weight bearing down on me. “All you care about is access to your daddy’s trust fund. I know you only get the money if you’re married. I know I’m one of few girls your stuck-up father approved because of the family I come from.”

His mouth twists into a sneer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You mouthy little bitch, I’m going to—”

I push Wes back again and he stumbles, barely managing to keep his balance. His face is twisted in rage, but before he can get another word out, a sound stops him cold.

The front door creaks open, followed by the slow, deliberate steps of heavy boots against the polished floor.

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you.”

I freeze, my heart leaping into my throat as I turn toward the doorway. Asher stands there, framed by the first light of dawn streaming in from behind, his face shadowed but unmistakably furious. He’s battered, bruised, his clothes still streaked with grime from the night we just shared. In his eyes, though—there’s nothing but cold fury and raw, uncontained power. The kind of power that fills the room and crushes the air out of your lungs.

Asher. Out here in the real world. Part of me felt like everything that happened in the warehouse was just a dream, one that couldn’t affect my waking life. But here he is: the man of my beautiful nightmares, standing here in my house.

My mother’s face goes ashen as she takes in the sight of him— a figure from a world they’ve done everything to keep me away from. My father’s mouth drops open, his voice caught somewhere in his throat, while Wes stares, slack-jawed and paling by the second.

But it’s me Asher’s looking at, his dark gaze fixed on me with a fiery intensity. My pulse races, fear twisting through me as the memory of my betrayal flashes through my mind. I’ve seen him furious, but never like this.

In the silence, his voice slices through the air. “ Blair .”

It’s just my name, but the sound of it sends a shiver down my spine. He’s here for me, but I don’t know if he’s come to save me—or to make me pay.

Wes glances back at me, his eyes narrowing. “Who the hell is this?”

Asher’s gaze shifts to him.

“I’m the one who’s going to make sure you don’t touch her again.”