Aftershocks pulse through me and se

Aftershocks pulse through me and send shivers up my spine. I think I’m momentarily brain dead as I slip out of Savannah, because it takes me a moment to realize why there’s so much extra . . . wetness. 
Fear slams into me as I pull back and look at her still bent over form, watching thick, white globs trickle out of her. 
Oh, fuck.
I didn’t pull out.
Shit, shit, shit! She’s on the pill, right? This isn’t that big of a deal . . . right?
My mind races as I run a hand through my slightly sweaty hair. She told me not to stop—demanded it, really—so I didn’t, and then I— then I—
Damn it. I never should have done this without a condom.
My attention’s wrenched to Savannah when she straightens. A tremor shakes her as she tries to walk past me, and is that. . .? Is she. . .? “Are you crying?” I tuck myself back into my jeans and reach out, trying to stop her, but she shrugs out of my grasp. Her refusal to let me touch her cuts me to the bone.
Her voice sounds reed thin as she says, “I’m fine. I just need to clean up.” She sniffles, pulling her dress back down as her eyes dip to my chest.
This seemingly small gesture absolutely slays me, because I know what she’s doing. By avoiding eye contact, she’s trying to distance herself from me, from this.
It shouldn’t surprise me—this is what she does—but it still feels like a punch in the gut, especially after what we just did. I mean, Jesus Christ, she’s got my semen leaking out of her. You can’t get any closer than that.
Well, it’s not going to work. I won’t let her put up barriers between us. I tore them down once, and I’ll do it again and again and again if I have to. I’ll do whatever it takes to reach her. She has to know that by now. She has to know that I’ll never let her go without a knockdown, drag-out fight that’ll leave both of us emotionally obliterated. 
She’s mine. I love her, and she’s mine.
“Hey,” I say soothingly, lifting her chin up so she’s forced to look at me.
“Don’t touch me.” Her voice cracks as she shoves my hand away, and I realize this is a very big deal. Someone who’s on birth control wouldn’t be this freaked out.
Fear blooms in my chest, making my heart feel like lead as it tries to thrash against my ribcage. Panic rises, but I push it down.
I have to be calm about this. Two people panicking won’t get us anywhere. 
Tears streak down her face and she stubbornly wipes them away. I want so badly to wrap my arms around her. It’s killing me that she won’t let me. “Savannah, I’m so sorry. I meant to pull out, I did, but then you—” 
My lips mash into a thin line to keep from saying any more. This is not her fault, it’s mine, and there’s no use pointing fingers. What’s done is done. We just have to decide what to do next.
“I’ll go out right now and get you the morning after pill, okay? I’ll take care of it, and it’ll be like it never happened. Just don’t. . .” I swallow the lump in my throat, watching her tears come faster. Why doesn’t she look relieved? “Don’t shut me out because of this. Talk to me. Please.”
Every second she’s not in my arms is pure torture. She still won’t look at me. I need to feel her skin against mine and look into those quicksilver eyes that are pure fucking magic. They’re the only eyes on the planet that can make my heart skip a beat with a single look. 
That might sound kinda lame and I’m sure my bro card would be revoked if I ever admitted it out loud, but it’s true, and right now I need to feel that. I need to know we’re okay.
“That’s not—” Biting her lip, she looks off to the side and shakes her head. “It’s fine,” she says, pushing past me as she heads for the bathroom. “I just want to be left alone, okay?” She walks into the dark bathroom and starts to close the door. 
It’s symbolic. I feel like she’s closing the door on us, and it’s got my heart racing as my fists clench. I’m in fight or flight mode, and I never choose flight. 
Stepping forward, my voice is low and clear as I tell her, “No, it’s not o-fucking-kay. You close that goddamn door and I’m gonna break it down.” 
The door stops, but she’s hidden on the other side. I rest my hands on the doorframe, touching my head to the cool wood. “You know I can’t leave you alone, not after what just happened. You were fine until. . .”
Wait, was she fine? I couldn’t see her face, I could only hear her gasps and cries. In the heat of the moment they sounded good, but if that was the case, then why is she shutting down on me?
I didn’t think I was being too rough. In fact, I was kind of holding back. But Savannah might not see it that way.
Grimacing at the thought, I rub my hand over my chest. It suddenly feels like it got cracked in two. “Did I. . . Did I hurt you?”
I hear a sniffle, then, “No.”
She’s lying.
My eyes screw shut, my voice thick with emotion as I say, “Fuck, Savannah, why didn’t you say something?”
“You didn’t hurt me.” Her voice wavers. “I’m fine.”
“Bullshit. You don’t fucking cry like that when you’re fine.”
“Declan—”
“No.” I push open the door and slip inside the bathroom. Savannah’s standing against the wall, gripping the doorknob, as light from the window filters in to the dim space. It’s just enough to see the left side of her body and her tear-stained face. Leaning against the countertop, I fold my arms over my chest. “I’m not going to let you get out of this. You’re always running away from me, and I’m not gonna let you do it this time. Fucking talk to me, Savannah.”
“I don’t want to!”
Her shout seems to echo in the quiet space, and the sudden outburst makes me flinch. She hiccups on a sob and wipes her face, saying almost inaudibly, “I don’t want you to know.”
My throat closes up at the pain and panic etched onto her face as dread settles like a heavy weight in the pit of my stomach. I don’t know what’s wrong, but it’s bad—really fucking bad, and I’m terrified to find out what it is. For a moment all I can hear is the pounding of my heart as I slowly ask her, “Don’t want me to know what?”
Her lip quivers as her eyes burn into me, pleading with me. “Just let it go. Please, Declan, I’m begging you, just let it go.”
“You’re scaring me.” I take a step toward her, reaching up to wipe away her tears. She turns her head until I’m looking at her profile. A drop of moisture hits the trembling bottom lip she’s biting. It has my own eyes stinging as my heart breaks. “Let me touch you,” I beg, my voice strained. “Please. You have no idea how much it hurts that you’re not letting me.” I feel it on a soul-deep level, I swear. It’s like a dull ache that just won’t ease.                     
Her eyes clamp shut, making more tears spill down her ruddy cheeks. 
I can’t fucking take it anymore. I pull her to me and wrap my arms around her, thankful that she doesn’t try to push me off this time. A sob shakes her as I hold her as close to me as I can without cutting off her air supply. My hands skim her back, over the softest skin I’ve ever had the privilege of touching, while my eyes squeeze shut and I bury my face in her neck. I inhale her strawberry scented skin and hair greedily, like a drowning man who’s just come up for air.
“I love you. Nothing you tell me can change that, you hear? Nothing.”
She shakes her head and pulls back. “You don’t know that. You don’t know what I did.”
“Were you with someone else?” She said she hadn’t been, but even if she had, it wouldn’t change the way I feel. It’d just break my fucking heart.
She frowns as I wipe away her tears. “No. I told you I haven’t been.”
“Good. I haven’t either.” Cupping her face in my hands, I kiss her forehead. “Now tell me why you’re crying, because I’m not going anywhere. I’m in it, Savannah.”
She shakes her head again. “I can’t. You’ll think I’m disgusting. You won’t want me anymore, I know it.”
“That could never happen. Now tell me what’s wrong.” My mind’s coming up with all these terrible scenarios and the harder she fights this, the worse it gets.
Inhaling a shuddering breath, she says, “Remember our first date? You thought I told you the worst things in my life to scare you off, and I said. . .”
“You said those weren’t the worst things,” I say numbly, my hands falling away from her as I remember our conversation. 
The floor seems to tilt under me as I register the somber look on her face. It says everything I need to know, but some masochistic part of me still needs to hear her say it. 
My lungs don’t seem to want to work, and my feet don’t seem to be able to move. Dazed, I blink slowly, almost imperceptibly, and catalogue every godforsaken breath that leaves me and every beat my stubborn heart insists on pumping, because I know they’re going to be my last. What Savannah is about to tell me will kill me, I’m sure of it.
“It was the last foster home I was in. The one who kicked me out when I turned eighteen.”
I don’t want to hear anymore. I can’t. I don’t think my psyche can handle it.
Clenching my jaw, I try to brace myself. It’s useless, I know. There’s no preparing yourself for something like this.
“The husband, he— he promised I could stay and finish out my senior year as long as I . . . did things for him.”
My eyes close as I fight through the all-consuming rage I feel seeping into every cell in my body. “What kinds of things?” I ask, very slowly and deliberately.
She shakes her head once more, biting her lip so hard she leaves teeth marks. “Declan, please.”
I swallow as my fists clench and release. “Tell me. I need to hear it.”
Licking her lips, she folds her arms over her chest. “It started off as pictures. He’d take me down to the basement with him, where I’d take off my clothes and he’d . . . tell me how to pose. But after a while, that wasn’t enough. He had to touch me, too.”
Her words punch a hole straight through my chest, and I’m left to bleed out while I struggle for breath.