june pov:
Before I could fully storm off and slam a dramatic door behind —even if it was taphorical—Justin’s hand shot forward, curling around my wrist.
"You have to stay the fuck away from Nate. He’s not what he seems."
I froze.
Not because I believed him.
But because of the audacity.
I turned around slowly. My voice dropped into dangerous territory—the kind of calm that ca right before a volcanic explosion.
"Oh. I have to stay away from Nate?" I repeated, deadly sweet. "Nate? The guy with an actual job and a clean record and, let see—not a violent streak or a penchant for brooding in dark corners with that serial killer look?"
Justin’s jaw flexed, eyes narrowing.
"I’m serious, June. That guy is off. Sothing’s wrong with him. I don’t care if he smiles like he invented kindness—I don’t trust him."
"Newsflash!" I yanked my hand free. "I don’t trust you either!"
His face darkened. "You should."
"Oh, should I? The guy who tortured my adoptive father like it was so hobby?"
"I saw what you did to my adoptive father. I didn’t stop you, because deep down I wanted him to suffer. But don’t you dare try to stand there and act like you’re my knight in dented fucking armor. You scare , Justin."
His mouth opened.
Closed.
I kept going.
"And don’t even get started on your split moods. One second you’re soft. Vulnerable. The next you’re threatening murder and smirking like the devil in detention. You don’t need to warn about Nate, okay? I already have a bad hunch about you."
That one hit.
His expression didn’t crack—he was too good at hiding behind that stormy, sexy mask—but I saw it. A flicker. A flash. Sothing wrong behind his eyes.
"I knew it," I whispered. "You’re not just a little ’emotionally unstable,’ are you?"
He didn’t answer.
Didn’t deny it.
Just stared at with that locked-down expression, like every word I’d just said was a bullet he refused to let hit.
"I’m supposed to be scared of Nate?" I went on, voice rising now, fists clenched. "You’re the one I should be scared of, Justin. You’re the one who doesn’t sleep. Who disappears and cos back with blood on his knuckles. Who looks at like he wants to both kiss and throw against a wall for fun."
I took a step closer. My rage was boiling, but underneath it—terror. For him. For . For whatever the hell was going on between us.
"You want to protect from Nate? Protect from yourself first."
His mouth opened slightly like he wanted to say sothing. Like he almost would.
But he didn’t.
He just stood there, fists clenched, jaw tight, breathing like he was on the verge of war—either with , or himself.
And for once, I was too tired to decode him.
So I turned and walked away, ignoring how my heart pounded like a grenade.
Ignoring the heat crawling up my neck.
Ignoring how badly I still wanted to turn back.
Justin’s POV:
I stood there, watching her walk away, her words still bleeding through my chest like glass shards dipped in acid.
I scare her.
She has a bad hunch about .
She was right, of course.
About so of it.
But that didn’t an it didn’t rip open.
She walked away.
Again.
And I let her.
Again.
Her words echoed in my skull like bullets ricocheting in a sealed room.
"Protect from yourself first."
Fuck.
I stood in the hallway like a statue soone forgot to put in a museum—cracked, dangerous, not quite human. My fists clenched so tight my knuckles went white. I could still feel the ghost of her wrist in my palm. Soft. Small. Breakable.
And yet she was the one breaking .
Nate had already disappeared around the corner, smug little bastard with his fake charm and too-clean shoes. I wanted to run after him. Drag him into a room and make him confess whatever sick little secret he was hiding behind that badge and polite smile.
But I couldn’t move.
Not after that.
Not after her.
June’s words didn’t just cut—they sliced deep, dragging open a part of I’d spent years sealing shut with duct tape and self-denial.
"You have different personalities."
She said it like a guess.
She didn’t know.
Not really.
She hadn’t seen it yet. Not all the way.
Not Number Nine.
Not the others.
But she was close. Too close. And I couldn’t decide if I wanted to push her away or fall to my knees and tell her everything.
Maybe she was right.
Maybe I was the one she needed protecting from.
I wasn’t stable. I knew that. Hadn’t been since the labs. Since the Hole. Since they shattered into pieces and made survive on the blood of rats and the bones of children.
I could still feel it sotis. The cold. The hunger. The knife in my hand.
The whispering voices telling to kill or be killed.
"You’re the one I should be scared of."
She didn’t even know the half of it.
I leaned against the wall, suddenly exhausted. My skin itched like it didn’t fit right. Like soone else was crawling just underneath, waiting for the next trigger to pull under and take over.
Fuck. I was losing control.
She made feel too much.
Anger. Fear. Lust. Need.
June was the only person who ever looked at like I was real. Like there was more to than the violence and the scars and the shadows in my eyes.
And now I’d ruined that too.
I told myself it didn’t matter. That she’d co back around. She always did.
But part of —the honest part—knew that if I didn’t start telling her the truth, I’d lose her for good.
And that scared more than any mory. More than Nate. More than the voices in my head.
It scared more than myself.
I exhaled slowly and stared down the hallway where she disappeared.
My June.
The girl who made feel alive and completely insane at the sa ti.
The girl I’d break the world for—and maybe already had.
I needed a plan. A fix. Sothing.
Because if I lost her...
There’d be nothing left worth holding the monsters back for.
The thing is—I did an it when I told her to stay the fuck away from Nate. Because sothing about that guy didn’t sit right. The badge, the way he acted surprised to see her, the fake-ass tone in his voice. I’ve been around liars, manipulators, torturers. I know when soone’s playing a ga.
Nate was playing one.
And June?
She was his favorite pawn.
But how the hell was I supposed to protect her when I was the nightmare she feared?
She said I couldn’t save myself—and maybe that’s true. But I’d burn down the whole damn university if it ant keeping her safe from people like him.
I let out a breath and looked at my trembling hands.
I needed control.
I needed answers.
But more than anything... I needed her to trust again.
Because if Nate was who I thought he was?
Then June wasn’t just in danger.
She was the next target.
And I’d be damned if I let that happen while I was still breathing.
I didn’t waste ti.
As soon as I was sure June was gone—far enough not to hear the storm I was about to unleash—I pulled out my phone and hit speed dial.
Rico.
He picked up on the second ring, voice casual like he hadn’t once burned down a warehouse for .
"Yo, what’s up, boss?"
I didn’t even say hello. My voice ca out low, sharp. No room for confusion.
"Nate’s here."
"...Nate who?"
"The Nate. The one from the photos. The one June was with. Smiling. Drunk. In his fucking car. That Nate."
"Shit. He’s supposed to be two towns over, right? That therapist dude?"
"Yeah. Well, surprise. He’s now suddenly a mber of the university staff. Badge and everything. Friendly as fuck with June. Acts like it’s a coincidence."
I paced the empty hallway, eyes locked on the last place I saw him.
"I want eyes on him. Around the clock. I want to know where he lives, where he goes, who he talks to, and what kind of dirty shit he’s hiding under that polished little therapist smile."
"Copy that. Want to lean hard or soft?"
"Start soft. For now. But if I say green light—"
"I’ll crack his spine like a wishbone."
A pause. I let the words settle, the weight of them grounding . Rico knew what to do. He always did.
But I wasn’t done.
"I need you to dig, Rico. Not just the usual background check. I want everything. Real na. dical licenses. Credit history. Arrest records. Who he dated, who he ghosted, where he got his degree and if it’s even real."
"Jesus. You think he’s dirty?"
"I know he’s dirty. He had this... energy. Like he was trying too hard to be normal. And you know what that ans."
"He’s hiding sothing."
"Exactly."
I slowed my pacing, staring down the corridor like I could burn holes through the tile.
"And Rico?"
"Yeah?"
"If he lays a single fucking finger on June again—"
"He won’t."
Click.
I slid the phone back into my pocket, jaw tight, blood still boiling.
Because no matter how broken I was...
No matter how many versions of were clawing under my skin, fighting for control...
There was one constant in all of them:
June is mine.
And if this Nate bastard thought he could slither his way into her life, he was going to learn real fast—
He picked the wrong fucking monster.
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