***CONTENT WARNING: SCENES AHEAD MIGHT BE DISTURBING TO SOME AUDIENCE. READER DISCRETION ADVISED***
(Sanya's POV)
Not spicy. Caustic. Chemical. Like swallowing fire and glass and acid all at once.
My throat closes. Can't breathe. Can't swallow. Can't spit it out because his hand is clamped over my mouth.
Tears stream down my face—not from crying, from the chemical burn searing everything it touches.
"Water," I gasp when he finally releases me. "Please—"
"Tell me his name, and I'll give you water."
Through the burning, through the agony that makes me want to claw my throat out, I shake my head.
I hate Aaron. Hate him for leaving me, for abandoning me, for every moment of suffering I've endured since he failed to show up.
But if Tyron finds out Jake is Aaron—if he discovers the trut
