Holding on to Forever

by Davis, Siobhan

  Slowly, he drags his gaze back up to my face. I struggle to keep my eyes locked on his when I notice the giant erection tenting his pants. I love that he’s as turned on as me. That he feels the spark too.

  “Why wouldn’t I want to know?” he says, finally breaking whatever spell we were both under.

  I blink for a few seconds while I try to remember what we were talking about. “Because you don’t know me, so it doesn’t make sense for you to care.”

  “I know enough.” He moves his hand from my face, winding his fingers in my hair. “And if Wes is bothering you, I want to help.”

  Tears pool in my eyes, and I wish he could help me, but it’s looking more and more inevitable.

  I managed to deflect Wes’s plans the last two weekends, playing innocent while telling Dad it wasn’t a good idea for me to help Wes study at his frat house. Not with all the guys and partying that goes on there. I knew that was all it would take to switch the venue, and it worked like a treat. Wes was practically frothing at the mouth that he had to study at our place. Especially when he realized my father was in attendance and he couldn’t lay a fucking finger on me. I’d made all of Dad’s favorite foods and suggested he invite his buddies to our house to watch the NFL game instead of going out, and he loved the idea so much he did it two weeks in a row.

  But I know I’m on borrowed time.

  Wes keeps loitering around outside my classes, so I’ve taken to leaving in a big group of people so he can’t accost me.

  And I ignore all the obnoxious messages he’s sending me from an anonymous account. He’s smart enough to know I’m saving them, so he’s going to great lengths to cover his tracks.

  Which sickens me. Because it means he has nefarious plans in mind, and I know it’s only a matter of time before him and his buddies get their hands on me.

  Zach gave me the list of girls from their old high school, and I’ve been doing some investigative work of my own, but it’s slow progress, and I’ll admit I’ve dropped the ball recently in favor of Molly. But thoughts of what he has planned for me have me so on edge I need the high to just get through each day.

  “Emily.” Adam clicks his fingers, peering into my face with concern in his eyes. “You still with me?”

  “Sorry. My mind wandered.” I clench my hands in my lap, swallowing back bile as my body trembles all over.

  “You’re shaking.” He pulls me to his chest, and I rest my cheek against his shoulder, allowing him to comfort me. He smooths a hand up and down my back, and it’s such a tender gesture it brings tears to my eyes again.

  Adam is one of the good guys. Last night and this morning have proven that. If I was a normal girl, I’d be ass over tits crazy for him.

  But I’m not, and I can’t afford to be.

  I shuck out of his hold. “Thanks for looking after me last night.” I stand. “I should go.”

  “Emily, wait.” He stands, threading his fingers in mine. “I know you’re scared. I can see it in your eyes. And I want to help.”

  “Why me?” I tip my chin up, peering deep into his eyes.

  He takes a big breath. “Because I like you and I don’t want to see you hurt.”

  “Is that the only reason?”

  He blows air out of his mouth, looking undecided for a few minutes. “I know all the reasons why you and I shouldn’t hang out,” he says, and my heart splutters in my chest. “But there are more reasons why we should.” My heart grows wings and soars.

  “You want to hang out with me?” I blurt.

  He rests his forehead on mine. “I want to do so much with you, Emily,” he whispers, and his warm breath fans across my face, igniting new flames. “But why don’t we start with being friends?”

  “I don’t have many friends,” I admit in a hushed voice.

  “Then it’s settled.” He hugs me to him, and I don’t protest this time, wrapping my arms around his solid body, and clinging to him like he’s my only lifeline. He tilts my chin up with the tip of one finger. “Now, tell me what’s really going on with Wes.”

  * * *

  It’s relatively easy to sneak out of Adam’s dorm as most students are in class by now. But it was still supremely stupid to come here last night. I’m not sure if Adam fully bought my explanation about Wes, but I did my best. I told him he has a photo of me snorting coke, and he’s threatening to show it to my parents, but I didn’t tell him the rest. I wanted to, but I just can’t. I can’t drag anyone else into this mess, and he’s already severely pissed at Wes Imagine how pissed he’d be if he knew the full truth.

  Adam is one of my dad’s guys, and he can’t get involved. Especially now the Chicago Bears are showing interest in him. Adam’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when he was telling me about it as he walked me outside. Having a scout take an interest is a big deal, so there’s no way he can get dragged into my shit.

  Besides, there’s nothing anyone can do to help me.

  I didn’t remember when I first woke up, but I remember now.

  I know exactly why I was banging on Sam and Adam’s door last night. Why I got so completely trashed I was beyond the point of caring. Maybe a part of me wanted someone to find me. To report to my mom. Because if I’m kicked off campus, and thrown out of the house, I’ll be forced to leave, and then Wes won’t find me.

  Intense pain presses down on my chest, and my thoughts turn dark. I lean against a tree across campus, trying to stifle my sobs as pain climbs up my throat.

  Images of the video Wes sent me yesterday return to haunt me.

  I don’t know when it was taken, or how he got his hands on it, but someone in the room clearly recorded it. It’s obvious that the majority of people engaged in the orgy, myself included, were out of their fucking minds on alcohol or drugs or, in my case, most likely a mix of both.

  I threw up watching myself being fucked, simultaneously, by Zach and another guy in our circle.

  The thoughts of my parents watching that or, worse, the entire campus—if he uploads it to the college app like he threatened—has me practically convulsing, as I squeeze my eyes shut, hugging the tree, silently crying out for someone to tell me what to do.

  I don’t know how to make him go away this time.

  If I don’t show up at the hotel room he’s rented on Saturday night, he says he’s uploading it.

  Reality is like a stake through my heart as I realize there’s only one thing I can do.

  I need to let him, and his friends, do what they want to me.

  Even if I already know this is one rape I’ll never ever recover from.

  11

  Adam

  Practice was a blur for so many reasons. My mind has been on overdrive since Emily slept in my bed. I can’t shake that night. I can’t concentrate on my classes. I even fucked up a sale, charging less than Ray’s asking price.

  Then there’s Ray.

  He reamed my ass for not showing up for work. He almost took my cut away, but I shut that shit down. He loses me. He loses clients.

  My phone rings as I’m getting out of my truck outside my dorm. Mom’s name comes across the screen.

  “Mom,” I answer as panic sucks the air out of my lungs. “Everything okay?”

  “Yes. Yes. Phoebe and I are fine.”

  I wipe the sweat from my brow, releasing a relieved breath.

  “I wanted to tell you the good news. I have an interview on Monday at a bed and breakfast in town. It’s an eight-hour shift while Phoebe is in school, and no weekends. So, if I get the job, then you can stop...you know.”

  I suspect Phoebe is in the room with her or close by where she doesn’t want her to hear.

  “That’s great news, Mom.” It is. But her minimum-wage job isn’t going to erase all our debt or support her and Phoebe, particularly Phoebe’s medical bills.

  “If I get the job, you’ll quit. Right?” she asks.

  If I know my mom, she’s holding her breath.

  I can’t bring myself to confirm I won’t sell dr
ugs anymore. I’m digging myself into a situation I might not have a way out of, but it’s one that keeps food on the table for them. Besides, my commitment of three months isn’t up yet.

  A group of guys exit the dorm as I’m walking in. They nod at me, and one holds the door open.

  “Mom, can we talk later?” I take the stairs two at a time to the fourth floor.

  “Adam.” Her motherly tone stops me in my tracks. “I love you, and I know why you’re doing it. But please think carefully about it. You’re messing with your future, and I’m not okay with that.”

  I pop my head against the wall in the stairwell, feeling like I’ve disappointed her. In part I have. Drug dealing isn’t going to win me a spot on an NFL team. It’s going to land me in jail if things go south. And that’s what she’s worried about. Not a day goes by that I don’t think the same fucking thing.

  “Remember,” she says softly. “You’re no good to us in jail.”

  My heart sinks to my feet. “I know, Mom. I love you, too. I’ll see you on Sunday.”

  She tells me she loves me again before she hangs up.

  Sam flinches when I walk in, shutting his computer screen down like he’s hiding something—which he is.

  A crease forms between my brows. “What’s going on?” I ask, eyeing his computer.

  He spins around in his desk chair. “Sit down.” He waves to my bed without looking at me.

  Hesitantly, I do as he says only because I’m afraid of what he’s about to tell me. It’s been par for the course since Emily shared what Wes has on her. And it’s one of the main reasons I’ve been a bear to live with or be around. I’m surprised none of the guys on the team, or Coach, has noticed. Coach is the only one who snaps at us, but I took a play out of his book today. I lost my shit on Garrett for not following the play we were trying to perfect before the game tomorrow.

  I chew on the inside of my cheek. “You found something on Wes?” Sam and I fought about him looking into the fuckwad. I know Sam doesn’t want his name anywhere close to this, since President Parker could put a hurt on us.

  But Sam saw how strung out Emily was the other night, and he can’t sit idly by and not help. Like me, he’s afraid Wes will do something drastic, and as vulnerable as Emily is, he doesn’t want that on his conscience, and fuck, neither do I.

  But it’s more than that for me. I want to protect her. To shield her from Wes and anyone who would try to manipulate her. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt so strongly about any girl. Especially one I haven’t even kissed yet. But Emily Parker has gotten under my skin, and I like feeling her there.

  Most of us on campus know Weston Blakely is a dick and treats girls like shit. I’ve witnessed it a couple of times at parties even before I saw how he treated Emily at the frat house.

  Sam purses his lips. “I know you have a thing for Emily even though you won’t admit that. Are you sure she’s worth the potential trouble you could get into? Think NFL, dude. The Bears. Your future.”

  I close my eyes briefly. “I could say the same to you, man. Your future is bright.” I scrub a hand down my face. “She’s worth it, Sam.” Sure, I’m attracted to her. I want to feel her naked body against mine, want to taste her, tease her, and devour her. It was so fucking hard not to do any of those things when she slept in my arms.

  Changing her out of her clothes and into my T-shirt was hell; I’m not going to lie. I looked, but I didn’t touch, because I’d never do that to any girl who was so out of it. Right now, this thing with Emily is not about our obvious attraction. I won’t let any guy blackmail a woman into dating him.

  Sam snaps his fingers. “Earth to Adam.”

  I blink. “Sorry. Look, no girl should be subjected to a guy like Wes. He’s vile, and he has zero respect for women. I’d kill any guy who’d dare to treat Phoebe like that.”

  His face darkens. He adores Phoebe, and I know, even after we graduate, Sam will always be a part of our lives.

  I pop to my feet and pace. “We need to stop him.”

  He grabs the back of his neck. “I agree, but you don’t need to be punching walls or anyone. You have a game tomorrow.”

  I crack my knuckles, the sound exploding in the silence between us. “What did you find?”

  Sam shakes his head. “I’m not sure you want to see this.”

  I cross my arms over my chest, leveling him with a ‘get real’ look. “Sam, I’m a big boy.”

  “Wes has upped the blackmailing stakes.” He gnaws on his lip, and my heart stutters in my chest. “He sent her a video, anonymously, but it wreaks of that asshole.” His nostrils flare, and fire flashes in his eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Sam so mad. “It’s not pleasant viewing. You’ve got to keep your shit together. Promise me.” His tone drops a notch.

  I settle behind him, my pulse jumping erratically, as he opens his computer screen. “I promise.” I want to believe what Sam’s about to show me can’t be worse than what Emily already shared with me, but his reaction is scaring me.

  He taps a key and video begins to play.

  It takes me a second to register what’s going on—naked bodies, group sex, strung-out junkies, and what the fuck...

  I spin around, clutching my head, trying to erase the picture of Emily being fucked by Zach and some other dude I don’t recognize from my mind. Rage pours through me, constricting my airways. She’s stoned, amped up on some shit, and letting these guys screw her every which way to Sunday.

  She doesn’t know what she’s doing, dude. The drugs are controlling her.

  My fury wanes for the moment until the image of two guys fucking her flashes like a beacon before me.

  Drugs or not, the need to strangle Zach overpowers me, because he isn’t Emily’s friend if he’s allowing her to do shit like this.

  He’s an addict, man. Come on, you know that. He’s an enabler.

  Fuck, I am too. I’m the one selling Zach the shit. Regardless, Emily isn’t safe around him—that much I’m certain of.

  I’m about to bolt out of the room and find the jerk when Sam blocks the door. “You’re not going anywhere until you calm down.”

  I angle my head and pierce him with a scathing look. “I can move you out of the way, you know.” I could lift Sam with my little finger and not break a sweat.

  He nods. “But as mad as I am, I might give you a run for your money.”

  I chuckle, allowing myself a minute to regroup.

  “You don’t know the worst of it,” he says, torment sweeping across his features.

  Everything locks up inside me, and I feel ill. “Spit it out.”

  “Wes is demanding she meet him in a hotel in town Saturday night. If she doesn’t show, he says he’s going to send it to her parents and upload it to the college social app.”

  I push out all the air in my lungs. “I’m going to take a walk.”

  “Then I’m coming with.”

  “No. Stay here. You’ve done your part, and I thank you.”

  “Too bad. I’m not letting you do this alone,” he says with a shitload of bravado. “And we need to have each other’s backs. You’re family.”

  That last part hits me right in the chest. When he finds out I’m a drug dealer—Emily’s, in fact—he won’t consider us family.

  The humid air outside is as thick as the tension in the dorm room. I have no idea where I’m going, but I find I’m walking in the direction of my truck.

  Sam grabs my arm to stop me. “Adam. You can’t confront Wes. He’s got President Parker on his side. I’ve seen emails exchanged between Wes’s parents and her. He’ll run straight to her and land Emily in the shitter.”

  I growl so loud that a couple walking by stops in their tracks.

  Sam waves them off. “He’s having a bad day.”

  The couple resumes their nightly stroll like their lives are a bed of roses without the thorns. Maybe so. Perhaps it’s only ours that are a clusterfuck of epic proportions.

  As much as I hate it, Sam is
right. I can’t confront Wes. Especially if he’s covered his tracks. We’ve got to outsmart him to defeat him. But even the thought of Emily meeting him in a hotel room makes me want to rip his balls off and feed them to him and his disgusting posse of fratholes. We need a plan, and we need help. “I’m thinking of paying Zach a visit.”

  “Who’s Zach?” Sam asks.

  “One of the guys fucking her in the video.”

  “You know him?”

  “I se...” I catch myself before spilling to Sam that Zach is a client. “I met him at the frat party that night I saw Wes and Emily get into it.” I shared some of the details with Sam previously.

  “For real?” Sam’s blue eyes are huge. “Is he the one selling drugs to her then?”

  “This is why I don’t want you involved.” I shake my head. “You’re going to rule the world one day. Stick to that plan, and let me handle it.”

  Sam tucks his hands in his pants pockets. “You need my help, because Emily hasn’t exactly been one hundred percent truthful.”

  I hate that he’s right. “I fucking knew she was leaving some shit out.” On one level, I can’t blame her. I do play for her old man. But I hate that she doesn’t trust me enough to fully confide in me. I thought we’d made some progress the other morning. We fucking agreed to be friends, and friends lean on one another. A pang of hurt clutches at my chest like a vise, but this isn’t about me. I’ve got to push my feelings away. She agreed to let me help her, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do

  * * *

  I couldn’t sleep last night. After Sam told me about the video and the email, I tossed and turned all night. Images of Zack and that other asshole fucking Emily tormented me for hours. I wish I’d never seen it, and it’ll take colossal effort on my part to forget about it. But the fact is, it’s before I knew her. I might be mad that she’s totally wasted, but it was still consensual. No one was forcing her into it. And we’ve all got history. I need to put it out of my mind. Especially when the more pressing concern is Wes’s imminent plans for Emily.