Ash’s apartment is quiet. Too quiet.

He said five minutes. Downtown. Forgot something from the shop. Didn’t lock the door.

You’re on the couch when it opens.

“Already ba—”

You look up.

Alex.

Your body reacts before your brain does. Heart slams. Hands go cold.

He closes the door behind him and locks it.

Click.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you say, standing up and already backing up, old reflexes acting before you could. “Get out.”

“You always say that,” he answers calmly. Too calmly. “And you always listen after.”

You shake your head. “Ash is coming back. Any minute. Please—just leave.”

He steps forward.

“You really think saying his name protects you?” His mouth twists. “You did that with my name too. Remember?”

You try to move past him.

He hits you.

Fast. Open hand. Hard enough that your vision whites out for a second. You stumble, crash into the wall, slide down.

You’ve forgotten how physical fighting was like a second nature for him.

Before you can even breathe, he’s on you.

He grabs you by the front of your hoodie and force you to stand up. Then he grabs your jaw and slams you against the wall. Once. Twice. Your ears ring. The room tilts.

“Stop,” you sob. “Alex, please—”

He hits you again.

This time a punch. Your cheek. Your mouth fills with blood. You collapse.

“You don’t beg,” he snaps. “You don’t get to beg now.”

You try to curl in on yourself. Doesn’t help. Never did.

He kicks you. In the ribs. You scream. Or try to—no sound comes out. Just air.

“He’s going to kill you,” you cry weakly. “Please. Ash is—”

That name makes him lose it.

He drags you up by your arm and throws you onto the floor again. Your head hits the coffee table on the way down. Everything goes fuzzy.

“I warned you,” he yells. “I warned you not to replace me.”

Another hit. You don’t even see it coming. Your face snaps to the side. Then another. And another.

Your body stops responding right. You taste iron. Hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

“Please,” you whisper. Barely audible. “I’ll do anything. Just stop.”

He kneels over you, gripping your jaw so hard you think he might break it.

“This is what happens,” he says coldly, “when you think you can leave me.”

He hits you again.

Your vision tunnels. The ceiling blurs. Sounds stretch and warp. You can’t tell if you’re crying or not anymore.

The door opens.

Ash freezes in the doorway for exactly half a second.

Then he sees you.

Curled on the floor. Blood on your mouth. Not moving right.

Something in him snaps.

“What did you do?” Ash growls at Alex.

He turns, smirking like an idiot who doesn’t understand he’s already dead. “She needed to remember who she—”

Ash is on him before he finishes the sentence.

He grabs Alex by the throat and slams him against the wall. Ash keeps going—no pause—fist slamming into Alex’s face. Again. Again. Again.

There’s no talking now.

Just fists. Elbows. Knees. Until he collapses.

Ash beats him like he’s purging something. Every hit heavier than the last. Alex tries to cover up, tries to crawl away.

Doesn’t work.

Ash hauls him up by the collar and smashes his head into the wall. Once. Twice. A third time for good measure.

Alex is bleeding. Crying now. Barely conscious.

Ash doesn’t care.

He grabs him by the collar and drag him to the front door.

“Next time you touch her, or make her feel unsafe, I’ll break every single bone of your body.”

He throws him on the ground and closes the door before turning toward your body, still on the floor.