Layla quietly laid against Gareth for the entire trip home.

Tears welled in her eyes and were quickly carried away by the rushing wind as he expertly weaved through the dusty roads that would take them back into town. He didn’t say anything to her for the entirety of the ride, and he didn’t have to. She was so caught up in her own thoughts that anything he had to say would be lost to her, anyway.

What’d I do? she wondered, her shoulders hitching in a sob. I didn’t deserve that. Did I?

Gareth had started it. She wasn’t the one who tried to maul him in a bathroom—it was the other way around. Why was Jesse acting like it was all her fault?

Maybe because you didn’t try to stop him until it was already too late.

She wiped her tearstained face on his jacket. Goddammit. Why do I always have to fuck things up?

Shame coursed through her as Gareth pulled into her parents’ driveway, cutting the engine once he’d put the kickstand down. He took off his helmet, looked back at her, and opened his mouth to speak.

But nothing came out.

“Don’t,” she mumbled, wiping her puffy eyes. “Just don’t. Okay?”

Gareth nodded. He didn’t say a word.

Layla slid off the seat and shuffled up the walkway to the front door, clutching Bear’s jacket like a security blanket around her shoulders. She was a Marauder now, supposedly. One of them.

But then why didn’t she feel like it?

“Cinderella,” Gareth said.

She turned to look at him, trying to put on a brave face but failing miserably. Gareth looked back at her without pity, his coppery eyes shining above his purpled nose.

“Didn’t know it’d turn out like that tonight. Jesse’s usually such a pussy. If I’d known…”

Layla stared at him, wondering what he was going to say. She suspected he’d leave it at that—he wouldn’t have done a damn thing differently, if he’d known.

Gareth shrugged. “Whatever,” he said. Layla turned away. She’d expected it, but it still stung.

Asshole.

She heard Gareth turn the engine again and pull out of her driveway to vanish into the night once more. She didn’t even turn to wave goodbye. As far as she was concerned, this was all his fault.

She stood on the stoop for some time, her stomach turning, her pulse pounding in her ears. After everything she’d endured tonight, this was the last place she wanted to be. It wasn’t safe here. Not after what she’d done.

A strict curfew. A zero-tolerance policy. Those were the rules her parents had laid down. One wrong move, and she’d get shipped off to God-knows-where. And Layla was just full of wrong moves these days.

That, and Jesse King’s criminal cock.

Layla closed her eyes. Only a few hours ago, she would have relished laying claim to that man’s dick. In fact, she was pretty sure she’d never had one better. But that was before he’d fucked her in front of the rest of his boys and branded her his bitch. That was before the humiliation of being used and abused had set in, penetrating her bones.

She’d never felt so trashy before. So gross. It was like Jesse had opened her up and emptied out everything she had inside her.

He didn’t ask me to stay. He stopped fighting for me. He couldn’t get me out fast enough.

“This wasn’t what I wanted,” she muttered as she put her key in the lock and opened the front door, dread coiling tight in her stomach.

Her fears were fully realized when her father strode down the entry hall toward her, his face a conflicted mask of both rage and worry as he neared. She could tell he’d been up all night, waiting for her. He was usually in bed by ten, and now it was past midnight and he had dark circles under his eyes already.

“Daddy,” she said, but his voice roared over hers.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Layla?!” he demanded, stopping just inches away. “Do you know what time it is?”

“I know,” Layla said. “But Daddy…”

“No,” he snarled, shaking his head. “Absolutely not. We warned you about this, Layla. We told you—”

“You told me that if I fucked up again, I’d be on my own,” she finished, meeting his gaze. Her whole body trembled as she held back the sobs threatening to burst from her mouth. “You don’t want me to make any more mistakes. I get that, Daddy. But I did make a mistake. A horrible, awful, stupid mistake.”

Her father’s face softened, his anger twisting into confusion as Layla threw herself into his arms and wailed.

“I’m so sorry,” she gasped as her shoulders hitched. “I’ve done such a stupid thing.”

There was silence between them for a while, save for the sound of Layla’s crying. Her father felt rigid in her arms, like he’d been ready for a fight and wasn’t sure how to deal with something that wasn’t one. Eventually, slowly, he wrapped her in his arms.

“It’s okay, Layla. We’ll figure it out. Just… tell me what happened. Tell me how to help.”

She closed her eyes. He said all the right words, but like so many others, she knew the truth.

He really didn’t want to know.