Dane's POV:
I grab her jaw—
And for a second, all I can look at is her mouth.
That soft, infuriating, perfect mouth.
Fuck.
I could ruin that mouth in a hundred different ways and she knows it.
I would get creative this time .
Her lips part—barely—like her body can't decide whether to freeze or lean in.
"If it's so easy to forget," I say quietly, leaning close enough that my breath skims her lips, "I don't mind giving you a reminder. But not here."
Her eyelashes flutter for a fraction of a heartbeat.
That's all I need.
She still feels this.
Buried under hatred, anger, whatever she's pretending—her body remembers mine.
I force myself back a step.
Right now, all I have to do is get us out of here.
Not drag her into a corner.
Not press her up against the nearest surface and fuck her senseless.
Not kiss her until she forgets how to stand.
Focus.
There are eyes on us.
A tail closing in.
Rain's breathing is shaky, her pulse tapping wildly beneath my fingertips, and I want—God, I want—but not at the cost of her safety.
I lower my hand slowly, deliberately, letting my thumb brush the edge of her jaw just once.
A warning.
A promise.
A reminder of exactly who I used to be to her.
"We're leaving," I say, voice low enough that only she can hear. "Now."
Her throat works in a swallow.
She hates that she reacts to me.
I don't.
I thrive on it.
They are closing in on us , There's no time.
I can't take her home.
She can't be alone.
She has to stay with me until I shake whoever's following.
But Rain—Rain is done pretending she's calm.
She jerks her arm so violently it nearly slips out of my grip, twisting like she'd rather rip her own shoulder out than let me control her.
"Rain—"
"No!" she snarls, voice loud enough to snap every head around us. She shoves at my chest, claws at my forearm, kicks out with pure, unfiltered rage.
Her hair whips across her face, eyes wild, chest rising in these sharp, fast bursts like she's fighting for air and fury at the same time.
"Listen to me," I bark, sharper, tighter. "Now's not the time. Just do as I say and we'll talk later."
"Talk?" she explodes. "You think I want to fucking talk to you?"
She lunges again, slamming her hands against me like she wants to claw her way through my skin.
"Dane, let me go!" she screams. "Let me fucking go!"
The people nearby flinch at the venom in her voice.
She doesn't care.
"I want nothing from you—do you hear me?" she spits, every word sharp enough to slice. "NOTHING. There is NOTHING to discuss. I don't need any reminder, I don't need explanations, I don't need YOU!"
She's shaking—not with fear.
With rage so raw it feels like she might burn herself from the inside out.
The van I kept on standby—just in case things went to hell—rolls to the curb exactly when I need it.
Of course it does.
With my luck, I knew something would go wrong. It always does.
Rain is still thrashing like she'd rather set herself on fire than let me touch her.
"Listen to me," I snap, grabbing her wrist and twisting it hard "I've had enough of your theatrics. All this fake calm, fake thrashing—save it. We both know whatever you're pretending—whatever you're trying to convince yourself—"
I lean in, teeth clenched.
"—you still feel it. You still—"
"Theatrics?" she screams, cutting me off, voice ripping through the air like a blade. "Theatrics?!"
People on the street stop. Stare.
She doesn't care.
She's too far gone.
"I will chop your nuts off and feed them to stray dogs—you hear me?" she spits, fighting me with everything she has. "Let me GO, Danny! I swear to God I will gut you—"
Her knee comes up, her nails dig in, she's rabid with fury, pure survival instinct and hatred and history tangled into something explosive.
I don't have time for this.
For her claws.
For her fire.
For her pride.
So I lift her—clean, practiced, efficient.
One arm around her waist, the other bracing her legs just long enough to throw her into the backseat of the van.
She hits the seat still fighting, still feral, still full of unfiltered rage.
"What is wrong with you?!" she screams, her voice bouncing off the metal interior of the van.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Danny?"
She's shaking so hard her hair sticks to her cheeks.
"I want to go home. I told you I want to go home. I made a mistake even agreeing to see you—"
"Jake, take the next turn," I say, eyes locked on the window, tracking the second van that just swung in behind us.
"Lose them. Fast."
I don't look at her.
Can't.
Not when my heartbeat is pounding through my skull and every instinct I have is screaming protect her , there's no explanation needed.
She grabs my arm, nails digging into my skin.
"Are you even listening to me? Listen to me, you—" Her voice breaks, anger tripping over despair. "
"I'm not that girl anymore. I'm not the idiot who used to sit around waiting for you. You let me go or—"
"Or what?"
I turn just enough for her to see the edge in my eyes.
"What exactly are you going to do, Rain?"
Her lips tremble—not with fear but with rage that has nowhere left to go.
She opens her mouth, shuts it, opens it again, breath hitching like she's about to tear my throat out with her teeth.
And then something in her just…snaps.
The fight drains out of her knees first.
Then her shoulders.
Then her voice.
"Look, I'm not interested in whatever you have to say, Dane," she whispers, her anger collapsing into exhaustion.
"I'm done. I'm tired. Just—please—please let me go."
The tears come silently at first, running down her face in clean tracks.
She wipes them furiously, like she's angry at herself for breaking in front of me.
That—
That hits me harder than any punch she could've thrown.
"We're almost there," I say, quieter than I meant to. "Just hold on."
"Hold on to what?" she snaps, voice raw, shaking.
"To this? To being yanked into a van by someone who can't even tell me what the hell is happening?"
Her breaths come fast, panicked.
"Who's following you? Why were you looking over your shoulder every five seconds? Why did you drag me out like that?"
Her voice drops to a whisper that slices right through my ribs:
"Who… are you, Danny?"