Three Years Too Late Chapter 04
My cheek was on fire.
Furious, I raised my hand to hit her back, but Kellen caught my wrist in a vice grip.
Pulling me behind him, he stared Denise down. “She didn’t force me into anything,” he said flatly. “I’m the one who likes her.”
Denise froze.
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she shot me a look of pure hatred before spinning on her heel and running off crying.
Once she was gone, Kellen turned back to me.
“Does it hurt? Let me go get you some medicine,” he said.
I just stared at him. “Why didn’t you let me hit her back?” I asked, completely deadpan.
Kellen looked at the ground, refusing to say a word.
I smiled and gave a slow nod. “Fine. If you couldn’t stomach watching Denise get hurt, you can take her slap for her.”
The second the words left my mouth, I slapped him across his handsome left cheek. Hard.
I didn’t hesitate for a split second, swinging with so much force that my palm instantly throbbed and went dead numb.
I was completely willing to give Kellen my time and resources without question—but only on my own terms.
Nobody got to dictate my actions.
Nobody got to dictate my actions.
And naturally, I wasn’t about to let Denise off the hook, either.
I tailed her. The second she turned down an empty alleyway, I shoved a burlap sack over her head.
Clamping my hand over her mouth to muffle the screams, I slapped her face over and over again.
I just kept hitting her until the struggling finally stopped. She lay perfectly still on the pavement, likely knocked out cold.
When I was finally done, I looked up. Kellen was standing a short distance away, quietly watching me.
I met his gaze, keeping my face totally blank.
“So, are you going to call the cops?”
My mind was already racing.
If he called the cops to defend Denise, I’d have Dad cut off his college tuition and living expenses immediately.
He’d have to choose between his own future and the girl he supposedly cared about.
I figured he knew which one to choose.
Instead, Kellen just sighed. He pointed at a spot nearby, half-hidden in the tree branches.
“There’s a security camera right up there,” he said.
I froze.
Stiffly, I turned my head to follow his gaze. Sure enough, a hidden camera was mounted on the wall.
My brain instantly went into overdrive, calculating the fallout of getting caught.
But then Kellen grabbed my hand and started leading me home. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I broke the camera before you even started.”
His palm felt dry and warm against mine.
For years after that, I kept forgiving him. I overlooked all his flaws—most likely because I was absolutely addicted to the profound sense of security I felt in that exact moment.
I hated my own indecision.
I knew his feelings for me were conflicted, but I stuck it out anyway.
That lasted until my college graduation.
When Dad died of cancer, I finally cut ties with Kellen for good.
Thinking about all of that must have kept me awake.
I barely slept that night and was up early.
Just like any other morning, I took my electric scooter down to the cat cafe and started opening up.
Three quiet days went by.
Three quiet days went by.
Kellen never came looking for me.
Then, on the fourth day, I was out front feeding the strays when he materialized behind me.
He just stood there watching me in silence; I had no idea how long he’d been standing there.
I turned around, pretended I hadn’t noticed him, and headed inside.
But Kellen called out, stopping me in my tracks.
He looked completely drained, and when he spoke, his voice was rough and raspy. “Jazlynn, I know everything.”
I froze.