“Who is he?”

My head was under the spray, but because of the increasing temperature of the water, I ducked my head from under the water just in time to hear him.

“I told you there is no one.” I absently reached to turn down the temperature of the water, but his hand on my wrist stopped me. “Let go. The water is too hot.”

“You now have about four minutes to tell me the truth. Who is he?”

If I wasn’t so distracted by the water, I might have answered, but it seemed as if someone had just thrown a pot of boiling water on me.

“I need to get out.” I backed away from the spray, feeling my skin prickle. The water now felt as if it were boiling. Steam rose and covered every inch of the shower until I could hardly see him. Suddenly, his hand appeared through the steam, oblivious to the hot temperature, and he pulled me back under the spray.

“Keenan! It’s too hot.”

“That’s because in two minutes the water will reach a scalding temperature causing first-degree burns to cover your skin. In four, you will suffer second-degree burns. Tell me who he is.” He spoke with a flat tone. So unfeeling and cold. His expression was completely impassive as he watched me suffer under the spray of the water.

I sunk down to the floor of the shower. My body jerked uncontrollably as instinct kicked in, begging for self-preservation. “Please let me out,” I choked out. “I can’t breathe. It hurts so badly.”

“Thirty seconds.”

He continued to appear unaffected, and it was then I finally realized that he would destroy me if I let him.

“Keenan…” I found the strength to lift my head one last time and peered into eyes devoid of a soul, mercy, or love. “Go to hell.”

The water had reached an unbearable temperature, and I could no longer stop the scream that ripped from my throat.

* * * * *

SEVEN YEARS AGO

“Hey, beautiful.”

I looked around in confusion until my eyes landed on an extremely hot guy leaning against the lockers. His dark hair was spiked, and the lopsided grin he wore spelled trouble by invitation. I recognized him as one the popular kids. The girls were always talking about him and his kissing skills… among other things.

“Are you talking to me?” He appeared to be waiting for someone, but it couldn’t possibly have been me. Boys didn’t talk to me. It was a rule set forth by my twin brother, who was older by a few minutes.

“I don’t see anyone else who could possibly make me fall in love at first sight, do you?” Despite knowing it was a line, I found myself shaking my head slowly. “Come here.”

“Oh, I, um… have to get to class.”

He rolled his eyes as if annoyed. “Are you a nerd?”

“No way,” I answered quickly and a little too defensively.

“So come to me… now,” he ordered. The rough tone of his voice belied the easygoing smile on his face. I felt my feet move me closer to him even though my brain screamed to run the other way.

“Good girl.”

“Uh, hi,” I said needlessly when my mind drew a blank. I didn’t know how to talk to boys because my dad and brother didn’t allow me to date.

“You’re Dash’s sister, right?”

“Yes. We’re twins,” I offered lamely.

“I don’t see how. Dash is ugly as hell.”

I burst out laughing and felt the tension leave my shoulders and my nervousness ease.

“You have a beautiful laugh, Shelly.”

“My name is not Shelly.” I pouted in disappointment. Maybe he thought I was someone else despite knowing my brother.

“It’s Sheldon, right?”

“Yeah,” I piped up when he confirmed he did know my name,

“Well, I want to call you Shelly for short.”

“Why?”

“Because no one else does.” He leaned in close and whispered in my ear. “I’m going to be your first and your only everything.”

“What makes you so sure?” I was surprised at my saucy tone but hid it well. I wasn’t one who flirted, but I found with him it came naturally.

“Because I planned it that way.” Before I could ask him to explain, he kissed my cheek and smoothly said, “I’ll see you around, Shelly baby.”

* * * * *

I didn’t know how long it would take for the burning sensation to fade, but when I woke some time later, I felt as if my skin were being pricked by thousands of tiny needles. I cried silently into the pillow, willing the pain away. The soft covers beneath me rubbed against my chafing skin. I didn’t want to open my eyes because I knew what waited for me—it would mean this was real instead of a nightmare.