Sam clears his throat. “Adam is right. We have to stop Wes. We need to protect other women.” Anger weaves through his tone.
Emily leaves my arms and heaves a sigh. “You’re right. We can’t let him do that to any other woman. He’s been getting away with it for far too long.” She massages her temples, looking a little perplexed. “Sam, you didn’t want to help me when I asked you. What’s changed?”
“Adam asked me to help. He’s like a brother to me, and he adores you. Family sticks together. Besides, now I know what that rat bastard has been up to, I no longer have any crisis of conscience. I’m happy to help, especially if it’ll put that creep away.” He pauses for a beat. “I’ll send Wes an email from an anonymous account that he’ll never be able to trace.”
She rolls her pretty blues. “He’ll know it’s from Adam.”
“You let me worry about that,” I say, drilling her with a serious look.
She drags her lip between her teeth as fine lines furrow her brow. Silence engulfs us for a few seconds. Air whooshes out of her mouth and her shoulders slump in defeat. “Okay.”
“Good. I’ll work on it. Talk soon.” Then Sam is gone.
Emily wrings her hands together. Suddenly, I’m not sure if it’s nerves or she needs a fix or both.
I close the distance between us. “We’ll get through this. But promise me one thing.”
She’s biting her lip, fear evident on her face.
“As bad as things might get, no drugs.” I’m asking her to stay away from something that is impossible to drop cold turkey, but she’s got to try.
“I only do drugs on weekends. It’s no issue, Adam.”
I lift a brow, wanting to remind her she was strung out in my dorm room and that was a weekday. But I don’t want to argue. “I want to be your drug. That sounds corny, I know. If you feel the need to use, come to me, and I don’t mean for drugs.” I grin in the hopes I can break through to her. That she’ll let me take care of her.
She smiles, wiggling her hips as she sashays over to me. Her gaze roams my bare chest. “I think I might like you being my addiction.” She lifts up on her toes and kisses me.
And just like that, nothing matters but her and me.
14
Emily
When Monday morning rolls around, I peer at my reflection in the mirror, reminding myself I can do this. I’ve been on edge since Sam sent the anonymous email to Wes threatening to expose the recording he found. So far, there’s been no response, but it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet.
I know Wes won’t take this lying down. I know he’ll find some way of attacking. And I know I’ll be caught in the crossfire.
But I’m done being the victim.
And I’m done denying the truth.
I’m spiraling down the rabbit hole, and I alone have the power to claw my way back to the top. It’s easy to blame my parents, blame what happened when I was fifteen, for the mess I’ve made of my life, when the reality is I am responsible for my own actions.
In a weird, sick way, Wes did me a favor.
What happened Saturday night—what could’ve happened that night—was the wake-up call I needed. I walked over there like a lamb to the slaughter. Believing I had no choice. And how fucked up is that? To willingly walk into a gang rape? To think it would resolve things when it clearly would’ve only made things worse.
I’m disgusted with myself for being so weak. For going on a bender all week and being incapable of making any sound decisions. I’m smarter than that. And it’s about time I started acting like it.
A smile slips over my mouth as I grab my book bag and leave the house. That I can even smile after the weekend I’ve endured speaks volumes. But I find myself smiling every time I think of Adam. His handsome face flashes before me, and I almost trip on the sidewalk.
Everything about him draws me in.
His gorgeous face and drool-worthy body.
His deep, sultry voice that kick-starts my hormones every time I’m around him.
How protected I feel in his big, bulky arms.
The tender look in his eyes when he promises he’ll keep me safe.
The way my body tingles all over when he touches me, warming me from the inside out.
And that’s before I’ve considered how hot it is that he’s so devoted to his mom and sister.
It’s clear money is an issue, but real wealth resides in the strength of that all-important family bond.
When it comes down to it, Adam is the wealthy one in our partnership because he has something I’ve never had—a true family unit.
Something about Adam gives me hope.
Hope for something I’ve never dared to dream for—a guy who makes me the center of his world. A love that exists before now only in the romance novels I read. A love so encompassing that my shitty family situation doesn’t matter. A prospect of something real that gives me the strength to kick my dependence on drugs and find a new high to live my life by.
Maybe I’m delusional, because I don’t even know him all that well. And being with him is complicated. But Adam has instilled a new fire inside me, and I’m going to embrace that with both hands.
* * *
“What’s his agenda?” Zach asks when we’re seated in the diner at lunchtime waiting for our food to arrive.
“Why does he have to have an agenda?” I inquire, sipping on my water.
“Every guy has an agenda when it comes to women, babe,” he replies, sitting up straighter and propping his elbows on the worn tabletop. “Especially football players.”
“He’s not like most football players,” I say, rushing to defend Adam. “And I’ve been around enough to know.”
“I still don’t trust him.” Zach leans back, slumping in the booth with a sulky expression on his face.
“Don’t trust him or don’t like the fact he’s clearly interested in Em?” Scar inquires, arching a slim brow.
A muscle ticks in his jaw as he glares at Scar for daring to call him on it.
“I don’t know if anything will happen with Adam,” I say, “but if it does, it doesn’t change who you are to me.” I reach across the table and take Zach’s hand. “You’re still one of my best friends.”
He links his fingers in mine, staring at me through a troubled lens. “But for how long?” His eyes penetrate mine. “How long before he asks you to give up your lifestyle and the friends who go along with it?” I avert my gaze, and Zach cusses. “Fuck. He’s already demanded that of you?”
“He hasn’t demanded anything of me. That’s not who he is.” I yank my hand back. “He proposed that we both make changes.”
“And you’re seriously considering it?” Disbelief drips from Scarlet’s tone.
“Yeah.” I nod. “Yes, I am.” I tuck my hair behind my ears. “I’m sick of feeling like shit all the time, Scar. I’m sick of feeling alone and lost and afraid. And I’m sick of being a victim. If the guys hadn’t rescued me Saturday night, I’d be in a new hell of my own making. Something has got to change, and maybe, just maybe, Adam is right. Maybe there is another way.”
Two sets of incredulous eyes meet mine, and my temper flares. “If you were true friends, you’d support this.” I stand, grabbing my bag and pulling a five-dollar bill out from my wallet. “But it’s clear I’m on my own with this.”
“Sit your whiny ass down, and shut the fuck up and listen.” Scar glares at me, jabbing her finger in the air.
I’m tempted to storm out of there, but I owe my friends the courtesy of listening to them, so I sit back down.
“If you’ve found a guy worth getting clean for, good for you.”
“That’s not it,” I interrupt. “If I do this, I’m doing it for me.”
“Even better,” she admits, leaning across the table. “But you’ve got to realize those worlds don’t coexist. How can you continue to hang with us if we’re high and you’re not? Can you honestly say you could resist the temptation when it’s right there in your fac
e?” Sadness washes over her features. “If you do this, our friendship will come to an end whether you want it to or not.”
* * *
Scar’s words are still lingering on my mind as I make my way home after my tutoring session. I know we’re usually high or recovering when we’re together, but could we not hang out when we’re sober? Does she mean our lunch dates are over too? Do I mean that little to both of them that they only want to associate with me if I’m still adopting the same party lifestyle? Her words have done little for my self-confidence, and I’ve been on a downer since our conversation in the diner, and it’s only getting worse.
Now, I’m rethinking my plan. I mean, I had it all worked out fine. Keeping on the straight and narrow Monday to Friday and letting loose on the weekends. There wasn’t any harm in it. If I stick to my guns and limit my partying to weekends, then I’m fine.
Except Adam throws a wrench in the works. But, honestly, his proposal was never going to work. He needs to deal to earn cash for his sister’s medical bills, so suggesting he go cold turkey with me wouldn’t have lasted.
But I don’t want to cut ties with him.
I like him. A lot.
More than Molly? My inner demon taunts me again, but I push that devil off my shoulder.
I want to spend more time with him. I want to see if this connection between us could go further. Maybe, he’ll accept a negotiation of the terms. We could both cut back and still call it progress.
My spirits are slightly lifted as I step foot into my house. My brow puckers as the sound of voices trickles out to greet me. “Hello?” I call out.
“In here, honey!” Mom hollers from the sound of the living room. She only uses terms of endearment in front of others, so that means we have company.
Great. Just what I’m in the mood for.
I tack a fake smile on my face as I walk into the living room. Instantly, the walls spin, and I sway on my feet, clutching onto the door frame to steady myself as I blink successively, sure my eyes must be deceiving me.
“I know,” Mom says, walking toward me. “I got a dreadful fright when I saw him too,” she adds, mistaking my horror for shocked sympathy. She attempts to drape her arm around my shoulder, but I duck out of her embrace, shaking myself out of my terrified stupor.
“Get out!” I snap at Wes, rage pummeling my insides. The absolute nerve of him to show up here. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.
“Emily!” Mom instantly chastises me. “That is no way to speak to Weston! Especially when he came here to ask for your help.”
“Help with what?” Barely holding onto the contents of my stomach, I step into the room but keep my distance from the asshole as he stands.
“I know you’re angry because I stood you up Saturday night,” he smoothly lies. “But I can explain. I was jumped by a bunch of football players in an alley on my way to meet you. Ended up in the hospital with a concussion and a few broken ribs.”
His face is a smorgasbord of mottled bruises and cuts, and he’s hunched over in obvious pain. I make a mental note to properly thank Adam the next time I see him for working him over so thoroughly. Although, there’s a part of me now wishing he had pushed him over the balcony in the hotel room. And I feel zero remorse for having such thoughts.
I snort. “Unbelievable.”
“Emily!” Mom interjects, moving over to Wes’s side. “You’re being rude.”
“I don’t care.”
“Are you pissed because you’re worried it might be that football player you’ve been seeing?” Wes says, acting all wide-eyed and innocent.
“What?” Dad’s bark has me jumping a couple feet in the air. He stalks into the room, sucking up all the oxygen with each heavy stride. “What football player?”
“There is no football player.” I cross my arms, and glare at Wes. “Wes is just trying to cause trouble. As usual.” I narrow my eyes at him. “And if he persists, he’ll find out it won’t work to his advantage either.” He seems to have forgotten we have the tape of him and his friends drugging and assaulting me. If he turns on Adam, or me, he will also be exposing himself because then there is nothing stopping us from releasing that tape.
“I don’t know what’s going on here, but this is no way to treat a guest in our house.” Mom is purple in the face, and I know there’ll be hell to pay for this later. But I don’t care. I’m not letting Wes blackmail me anymore. I would rather live on the streets than put up with this until I graduate. Or worse, be forced into marrying the asshole.
“Just so we’re clear, Mother.” I level her with a solemn look. “I hate him. He is nothing like you think, and he is no friend of mine. I won’t be coerced into helping him or dating him or having anything to do with him. You won’t believe me. I already know that. Throw me out of the house and off campus if you want, but I am done with Wes.”
I step right up to her, fists clenching and adrenaline pumping through my veins. “If he shows up here again and you let him in, I will have no choice but to do something that will ruin your reputation forever. We both know you don’t want that, so for once. Can you at least be on my side!!” I scream that last statement.
“How dare you speak to me like that!” Stinging pain lances across my cheek as she slaps me. Wes chuckles, and I lunge at him, but strong arms haul me back.
“I think it’s time for you to leave,” Dad says to Wes, keeping me locked firmly in his embrace.
“I think your daughter will regret speaking to me like this.” Menace filters through Wes’s tone as he slyly threatens me.
“That sounds like a threat,” Dad replies, his voice cold as ice. “For your sake, I hope it’s not.”
Wes clears his throat and smooths his features into a neutral line. “I apologize, sir. I let my emotions get the better of me. I would never hurt Emily.” He pins me with a look loaded with intent. “All I’ve ever tried to do is love her, but she continuously knocks me back.”
“I’m sure your girlfriend would love to hear that,” I hiss. “And I’ve heard enough of your bullshit. Get the hell out of my house.”
“This is my house.” Mom positions herself in between Dad and me and Wes. “And I’ll determine who stays and who goes.” She levels me with a warning look.
“Last I checked, my name is on the lease too,” Dad says. “And if we want to be technical, it’s the university’s house.” He lowers his tone. “I won’t ask you again, Weston. You need to leave.”
“I’m going.” He lifts his palms in a conciliatory gesture. “I only came to ask for your and Emily’s help in identifying my assailants.”
His meaning is obvious. Dad drops his arms, shoving me behind him as he steps up to Wes. “I don’t take kindly to unsubstantiated claims against my players or veiled threats so be very careful what you say next, son.”
“If I was you, Coach”—Wes puts his face all up in Dad’s, not disguising the smug arrogance ghosting over his features—“I’d take a long, hard look at the guys you seem willing to go to war for.” He shoots me a sly look. “I think you’ll find not all of them are worthy of your loyalty.”
He pushes past us, leveling a lethal look in my direction before exiting the room. I flop down onto the couch in grateful relief when the door slams, signaling Satan has left the building.
“How dare you!” Mom seethes, prodding her finger in Dad’s chest. “How dare you embarrass me like that in front of Veronica and Anthony Blakely’s son!! You know they are one of the university’s biggest benefactors!”
“You think I give a shit about that!” Dad shouts, swiveling around and pointing at me. “Open your eyes, woman! Your daughter was shaking at the sight of him!” It’s only as he says it that I realize my entire body is trembling.
The couch dips as Dad sits down. “Princess.” He cups my face. “You need to tell me what’s going on.”
“Oh, puh-lease.” Mom throws her arms into the air. “Don’t tell me you’re buying into this act.”
“Enough, Caro
le!” Dad hisses. “I’ve had all I can take of this, and I can’t handle much more.”
She huffs. “Say what you really mean, Grayson.”
Dad stands. “I’ve had enough of the way you treat your daughter and me. And I’m sick to death of hearing you threaten her if she doesn’t comply with your outrageous demands. It ends here.”
She laughs. “What makes you think you have any power in this situation.” She shoves at his shoulders. “I’m the fucking president. I can fire your ass like that!” She clicks her fingers in his face.
An ugly sneer appears on Dad’s face. “And I can ruin you in a heartbeat, darling. If you try to take me down, you’re going down with me.”
The bickering cranks up a few notches, descending into familiar territory, and I slip out of the room without either of them noticing.
I grab my bag and close the front door quietly behind me, checking the area to ensure Wes isn’t lingering anywhere. Not wanting to take a chance, I call an Uber to take me to Zach’s.
I need to get high.
To forget that the last hour exists.
To force the internal screaming to stop.
I’m proud of myself for standing up to Wes, but I’m terrified too. Afraid all I’ve done is ruffle the hornet’s nest. He won’t take this lying down, and he’ll come back ten times stronger.
I bend over the bush at the end of the driveway and expel the contents of my stomach. I’ve just finished rinsing out my mouth with water when the Uber arrives. Climbing in the back, I give him Zach’s address while my mind continues to churn.
Wes mentioned football players on purpose. He was sending me a deliberate message. Like I thought, he’s going to go after Adam. And possibly drag Carter into this too. I can’t let him draw a spotlight on Adam, because it’s far too risky. He has so much to lose. And I won’t let anything happen to him because he’s trying to help me. I remember how he asked me to come to him in this very scenario, and right now, I need him.
I pop my head between the two front seats. “Actually, I’ve changed my mind. Can you take me to the Fleming Residence Hall instead?”
Holding on to Forever Page 14
