Oh my god, I’m dying. He’s killing me. I beat weakly at his arms, but he just won’t let up. A rattling noise comes out of me, and even that isn’t enough to make him let go. I feel myself drifting away. I feel the life leaving me, and he’s not stopping. Why isn’t he stopping?

Something warm runs down my leg, and it takes me a moment to realize that pee is running out of me. The warm liquid trickles down the insides of my thighs, soaking into my jeans.

“That’s what I fucking thought,” he grunts, his face almost touching mine. I don’t even have the strength to try to pull his arm away anymore. My body is going limp. My body is letting go…

Darkness consumes me, and I sink into it. I have no other choice.

When I open my eyes, I’m on the floor. I’m not sure how much time has passed or what’s happening to me. I’m dizzy, I feel like I’m going to throw up, and every time I move my head, my vision swims. I feel like I’m underwater, but wouldn’t my body feel light if I was? Not like lead, the way it does now.

A pair of legs appear in front of me and whatever part of my brain is still working reacts. I try to push them away, but my arms are so heavy. I’m so weak.

Did that really happen? I can’t make it make sense, any of it.

It isn’t James standing in front of me, crouching and taking me by the arms. It’s Nix. Nix, whose expression is blank, who doesn’t say a word as he helps me to my feet. I’m soaked, and I stink like pee, and I’m so fucking weak.

Somehow, though I know it should matter, none of it really does. It’s like I’m floating above myself, watching Nix trying to help me down the hall. My legs are too weak and eventually give out on me—all he does is scoop me up and take me to his room. I don’t have it in me to fight him. I don’t have it in me to do anything but go limp in his arms.

That didn’t happen. It couldn’t have happened. Not James. The things he said. He almost killed me, didn’t he? I felt myself dying. How is this possible?

Nix closes the lid on the toilet in his bathroom, then sets me down on it before reaching into the shower to turn the water on. There’s nothing snide about him, nothing cruel or nasty. He only takes off my clothes one piece at a time, moving efficiently. All I can do is try to help him along as much as I can, but I’m useless.