I laugh out loud, as I turn the corner down the narrow road leading to Ray’s shop. Streetlights blink on and off. Maybe that’s a sign I should turn around and get the hell out of Dodge.
“What’s funny?” Sam asks, still keeping watch like a soldier on patrol.
“You realize we both can get our asses beat to a pulp.”
I didn’t intend to pay Ray a visit tonight, but what the hell. I might as well get the bad shit over with, because come Monday, I need to decide what’s next now that I don’t have football. And then there’s Emily. Just the thought of her gives me butterflies despite her betrayal. I’m so fucking livid she told her old man I sold drugs. But I shove her down a deep dark hole for now as I park outside Ray’s shop.
I’ll deal with one problem at a time.
A light spills out from a small square window, and a shadow is visible behind the glass.
“He’s here,” Sam mumbles with a hint of nerves.
I cut the engine. “Stay in the car. If I’m not out in ten minutes, take off and call the cops.”
Sam’s features twist. “Hell no. Where you go, I go.” He climbs out before I can stop him.
I dig that he’s got my back, but he doesn’t need to get in the middle of this. “Sam.” My tone is abrupt.
“Look, I’ve set up a safeguard before we left. If we’re not back in the dorm room in three hours, then the file I’ve compiled on Ray so far will be sent to the cops. Besides, Ray already knows me. So, let’s go.” He puffs out his chest.
I should’ve known Sam would have our backs covered.
I chuckle. “Since when did you become all badass?”
“Since you got me into this shit.”
We barely reach the door when it opens. The short stocky thug comes out. No doubt he saw us on the camera tacked to the garage above the door.
Stocky thug doesn’t say a word. Just flicks his head, gesturing for us to come inside.
Sam tucks his hands in his pockets, and anxiety rolls off him in waves.
I strut in like I own the joint. No sense in showing I’m shaking inside. If I’m being honest, I’m worried for Sam, not me. Ray’s the type of guy to use Sam to hurt me if I get out of line.
Ray is sitting at the table next to his shiny red toolbox. The black Aston Martin sits on display like he hasn’t moved the expensive ride since I first met him.
“About time you showed up,” Ray says, eyeballing me with intent. He’s sporting his New York Yankees ball cap tonight, and his bling is shinier than ever as though he polished it for me. Ray studies my face. “What happened to you? Your opponent bash your face in on the field?” He grins like a bastard. “Pathetic playing. You went from great to bad in a matter of seconds.” He moves his head back and forth as if he’s a fucking expert all of a sudden.
“Fuck you, Ray,” I say. “I’m done. There’s your phone.” I set the burner cell down on the table. Then I pull out my wallet. “Here’s five hundred bucks. This should make us even.” I throw the bills on the table.
He gives me a half-grin. “You got balls, quarterback. Five bills won’t cover what you owe me. I told you I’d have a word with Coach, and you still owe me time.”
“Tell Coach. I don’t give a fuck.”
Ray gnaws on the inside of his cheek, appraising me with dark eyes as he stands. Then he circles the table. “I had high hopes for you, Miller. I see your boyfriend knows what you do now.” He smirks, and I grind my teeth to my molars.
Sam sticks out his chin. “Adam made a mistake, and he’s dealing with it.”
“Is that so,” Ray says, grinning as though he’s got a secret of his own. He steps closer to me. “How’s that beautiful strawberry blonde of yours? Doesn’t Emily love Molly?” He nods a few times, his grin expanding. “Yeah, she does.” He glances past me. “José, what’s that dude’s name she fucks.”
“Some prissy name like Zeek or Zach,” Jose says with a chuckle.
I’m opening and closing my fists. “Bring her up again, and I’ll—”
Ray gets in my face. “You’ll what?”
I don’t even take a breath when I ram my elbow into his jaw. His head bounces back then forward, and before my reflexes kick in, Ray’s fist comes out of nowhere and connects with my nose. The damn thing bleeds for the second time today, and it’s a miracle if it isn’t broken. But at the moment, I don’t feel a thing as the adrenaline rushes through me.
Lunging, I tackle him to the pristine painted floor and pin him down. Ray might come off as one scary motherfucker, but he doesn’t have the weight I have or the strength. Plus, I wrestled one year in high school, and I’ve got a few moves.
“As of tonight.” I dig my knee into his gut while holding his hands together in front of him. “I no longer work for you. Come near me, my friends, my family, or my girl and I won’t hesitate to rat you out to the cops. Are we clear?” I doubt I scare him, but I seriously will call the cops even if doing so implicates me.
He laughs, glancing at something.
I toss a look over my shoulder and freeze.
Motherfucker.
José has a gun to Sam’s head.
Standing, I lift my hands. “José, put the gun down.”
Sam looks like a deer in the headlights.
“He will,” Ray says, pulling himself to his feet. “When I tell him. Now just so we’re clear.” He sidles up to me. “Run to the cops and see what happens.” Without warning, he punches me in the gut, winding me. “Touch me again, and you won’t live to see how I fuck up all your loved ones.”
I know it’s not an idle threat. I know he’s capable of just about anything, including murder as Sam pointed out.
I wipe the blood off my nose. “I no longer work for you. Accept that, and we have a deal.”
He peers at me through hooded eyes for a few beats. “Agreed, but you still owe me, and I will call in a favor.” Slowly, he nods to José, and he lowers his gun. Then Sam pivots on his heal and drives his fist into José’s gut. “I might not carry a gun. But I’m not afraid to use my fists. Fucker.”
I want to fist pump the air and shout hell yeah, but I’m not dumb enough to claim this as a victory. He let me go far too easily. I’m still indebted to Ray, and I know, without a shadow of doubt, that whatever favor he requests will be something dangerous and illegal.
José sneers at Sam. “Cute, nerd. But next time you try it, I’ll put a bullet in your skull whether the boss man gives an order or not.”
Nice of José to give Sam a backhanded compliment, but it’s time we get the hell out of here before they decide to shoot us for real.
24
Emily
I’m pacing outside Fleming Residence Hall, trying and failing to look inconspicuous. I’ve been here over an hour, and Adam is still a no-show. Sam isn’t around either. I only know because I snuck into the building via the back entrance and listened with my ear pressed to their door for any signs of life. After ten minutes, it was clear no one was home, so I came back outside to wait for them.
Adam has ignored the ten calls I’ve made since I hung up on him earlier, so I’m guessing he’s still pissed at me.
But I’m confident I can sweet-talk him around.
I’m not opposed to using my body if I have to.
But I’m fucked if I’m leaving here without Molly.
With every passing hour, I’m sinking deeper and deeper into a black hole, and my nerves are stretched tight.
Dusk is descending, and I fall back into the shadows, removing the sliver flask from the pocket of Adam’s oversized hoodie. I’d refused to give it back to him one time, and it’s become a comfort blanket of sorts this past weekend. His scent lingers on the fibers, and I inhale deeply, wishing he was here. I lift the flask to my lips, taking a healthy glug of alcohol. I drained the vodka last night, so I’ve moved onto gin now. It’s Mom’s special edition Tanqueray 10. She’ll blow a gasket when she discovers it’s missing, but right now, that’s the least of my worries. My hand sh
akes as I screw the cap back on, pocketing the flask when a familiar truck pulls up to the curb.
Licking my lips, I tug the hood down and smooth a hand over my hair to tame the wild strands. With more confidence than I feel, I stride toward Adam’s truck, ignoring the pulse beating wildly in my neck.
Sam spots me first, his brows climbing to his hairline. He nudges Adam, and his head swivels in my direction.
I suck in a shocked gasp. His nose is swollen and encrusted with dried blood.
“What happened?” I ask when I step in front of them. I lift my hand to cup Adam’s face, but he steps back, out of my reach.
Rejection is swift and painful, and I swallow over the lump clogging my throat.
“Your father is what happened,” Adam spits out. I’ve never heard or seen him so mad.
“My father did that?” My voice betrays my incredulity. How the hell did my dad find out about us?
“What did you think would happen when you outed me to him?”
“Adam.” Sam’s tone is cautionary.
“This is between Emily and me,” Adam replies, eyeballing his friend as he levels a silent communication.
“Maybe you should take this conversation someplace else,” Sam suggests, glancing all around him.
“Let me worry about that,” Adam curtly replies.
Sam bobs his head, glancing at me briefly before walking off.
“Why are you here?” Adam asks, reminding me I have a goal.
“I need Molly,” I whisper under my breath, risking a step closer to him again. He sidesteps me, and hurt batters me from all angles. But I battle on because I’m desperate and that’s all that counts in this moment.
“You’re a piece of work, Emily.” He shakes his head, disgust washing over his face. “Did I mean anything to you at all, or was it convenient to date me for the drugs?”
“Why would you say that? You know that’s not true! You know how I feel about you.” A familiar fluttering feeling invades my chest, alongside the accompanying pressure, as anxiety runs rampant inside me.
“Save it for someone who buys your lies.” He moves to brush past me, and I grab hold of his elbow.
“What the hell has gotten into you? Why are you being so hostile?”
He shakes my arm off. “I could ask you the same thing except I know why you’ve done it. You threw me under the bus for your precious Molly.” His lips curl into a sneer, and it’s not a good look on him.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I yell, throwing my hands in the air.
He frowns. “Your breath reeks of alcohol, and you’re a mess.”
“I won’t be a mess if you give me what I need!”
“Why the fuck should I help you after what you’ve done.” His nostrils flare. “Thanks to you, I’m off the team. And I’ve blown it with the scout. My NFL career is over before it even began.”
“You’re off the team?” I inquire, curious but not as much about that as whether he’s going to give me what I need.
A muscle clenches in his jaw as he drills a look straight through me. “I should never have gotten involved with you. I knew it was a disaster in the making, but I ignored my gut.”
“Fine,” I snap as acute pain punctures my heart. “I got the memo. You hate me and you’re through with me. But you’re still a dealer, and you have to sell to me.”
He snorts out a bitter laugh. “I don’t have to do anything, and I’m done with drugs. I’m out.”
“What do you mean?” My voice borders on hysteria. Zach won’t give me the time of day, and Adam was our only supplier. They are my only hope of scoring some pills. “You can’t quit.” My voice trembles, and my hand shakes as I contemplate what this means. “And you must have some pills left over? I’ll take anything. Whatever you have. Just give me something.” I grab hold of his sweater, pleading with my eyes. “Please, Adam. If I ever meant anything to you, you’ll do this one last thing for me.”
“If I ever meant anything to you, you wouldn’t have sold me out like you did.”
I have no idea what the hell he’s talking about, but I don’t care right now. I need Molly or something mind-altering to eradicate the memories torturing me.
“C’mon, Adam.” I drop my hand down the gap between us, palming his crotch. “I’m sure we can come to some arrangement.”
His jaw locks tight, and anger blazes in his eyes. “You’re offering to fuck me for drugs?” He takes a step back, and a myriad of different emotions washes over his face. “Jesus Christ.” He scrubs his hands down the front of his face. “What the hell happened to the woman I fell in love with? Was she ever real?”
“I tried, Adam. I really did, but I can’t do it. I can’t let reality in. I need something.” I drop to my knees, uncaring if we have an audience as my fingers creep up his thighs toward the zipper on his jeans. I look up at him with my best puppy-dog-eyed expression. “I’m begging you, Adam. Please.” My desperate tone matches the desperation etched on my face. “Please just give me something.”
“Jesus, Emily.” He pries me off his legs, lifting me up under my arms. “What the fuck is going on with you?”
“I told you, I just need a hit,” I say through gritted teeth, losing my patience. “So, stop acting all fucking sanctimonious, and give me what you’ve got.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t understand how we got here. What did I ever do to deserve this?”
I’m clear out of patience now. “Are you going to fucking give me some pills, or do I have to go elsewhere?”
Steel replaces the emotion in his eyes. “You mean your one-time fuck buddy.”
“Zach isn’t the only one,” I semi-lie.
He squeezes his eyes shut, shoving his balled-up fists into his pockets. “Just go, Emily. I don’t have anything, and even if I did, I wouldn’t give it to you so you’re wasting your breath.”
“Well, thanks for fucking nothing.” I pin him with an ice-cold glare as I back away. “I’m glad I found out everything was a lie before I invested any more time in you.”
“Right back at ya, baby”
I flip him the bird. “Screw you, Adam. I don’t need you anyway.”
I take off running before he can respond, uncaring what he has to say. My brain is churning, going a hundred miles a minute as I consider all my options.
Reluctantly, I trudge home a few hours later, still empty-handed and pissed beyond belief. My entire body shakes as my withdrawal symptoms crank up a notch. I dropped by Scar’s place, but she wasn’t there, and I’ve been blowing up her cell and Zach’s, but both of them are giving me the cold shoulder. Zach I expect after his reaction last night. But Scar’s siding with him rubs me the wrong way. What about the fucking girl code? And our friendship? And I’m still pissed at Zach for his treatment last night. I thought I was more than a fuck buddy to him, but he made it obvious that it was all about the sex. I thought he cared about me, but if he did, he wouldn’t leave me suffering like this.
Asshole.
Bitch.
They can both go to hell.
I was stupid not to get Ray Diaz’s number from Zach or sneak a peek at Adam’s burner cell when he wasn’t looking. If I had his number now, I wouldn’t be in this dilemma.
It’s dark as I navigate through campus, mumbling obscenities under my breath and vowing to make all my so-called friends pay.
A man emerges from Randolph Hall, the building on my left, instantly catching my attention. My heart rate speeds up as I recognize him.
Oh, God, no!
Goose bumps the size of melons sprout on my arms as I watch him descend the steps from Mom’s office building, heading toward me. My feet are rooted to the ground, and I want to move, but I’m frozen. The overhead light illuminates his features in perfect clarity, and nausea swirls in my gut. His jet-black hair is threaded with strands of silver now, and his face is more lined than I remember, but the evil glimmer in his eye is still there.
Pain spears me on all sides, and a whi
mper flies out of my mouth. Tears cascade down my face, yet I’m still rooted to the spot.
The large watch on his wrist sends me traveling back in time, and my silent tears transform to sobs as I relive it again.
The breeze on my legs as he shoved my dress up.
My wide-eyed panic as he clamped a hand over my mouth so I couldn’t scream.
The ripping sound as he tore my panties off me.
His rough fingers as they plundered my most intimate parts, untouched up to that point.
The creepy chills dancing up my spine when he called me swee-heart as if it was an act of intimacy between two loving partners.
The searing-hot pain tearing my insides to shreds as he forced his way inside me, taking what he had no right to.
I double over, clutching my stomach as the worst pain imaginable grips my insides.
It takes a moment to realize he’s staring at me, his eyes shimmering in excitement, as he changes course, diverting from the parking lot toward this very spot.
Impending danger snaps me out of it, forcing my limbs to move, and I’m running, pushing my legs harder and harder as I desperately try to put distance between me and the monster who stole my innocence when I was just fifteen.
At the time, I thought it was a random attack.
That my rapist was a stranger and I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
But he was around the corner from my house when he attacked me.
And I see now what I didn’t know back then.
This was no random attack.
He was no stranger.
My rapist was my mother’s lover.
He was only there that night because he’d been with her.
If she hadn’t been cheating on my father, if she hadn’t brought her lover into our house, he would not have been in the neighborhood that night, and he wouldn’t have violated me, and ruined me, the way he did.
Another whimper leaves my mouth at the sound of footsteps chasing me, and I push my limbs even further. “You can’t outrun me, swee-heart,” he hollers, his voice sounding way too close for comfort, and I almost have a coronary. Adrenaline courses through my body at an alarming rate, and sweat glues my shirt to my back. I want to look behind me. To see exactly how close he is to me, but I’m afraid of falling, so I keep running, praying someone appears before he catches me.
Holding on to Forever Page 23
