by Tara Brown
But no matter how much I wanted to chicken out, I told myself that this close call would save lives. If I sent it to Kami, she would see that video, lose her mind, and out him for the pervert he was, and girls everywhere would know what he’d done. I would leak it to TMZ if I had to. I would definitely leak it to the police, anonymously.
There was no way he was ever going to get away with that again.
I got out of the shower and dried off, then forwarded the video to Hennie, needing at least one person to know what had happened.
I sent a text saying I was okay. It was six a.m., but she texted back with multiple raging and shocked emojis before my phone rang.
“What the fuck?” she gasped.
“I know,” I whispered.
“Why are you whispering? Does he have you hostage?”
“No. I avoided the rape train by getting rescued by none other than Jordan.”
“Jordan!” she squealed. “Not our Jordan!”
“The very one.” I closed my eyes.
“The one we legit just screwed over and made a fool of for the benefit of his hateful girlfriend?”
“Yeah, that one,” I whispered harshly.
“Oh my God!” She didn’t sound sleepy at all. “Why does God hate you?”
“I don’t know,” I whimpered. “But Jordan rescued me, brought me to the Four Seasons, and got me a doctor, and the doc took a sample of my blood to test for the drugs Miguel used.”
“Did you send Kami the video?” She gulped. I heard it over the phone.
“I want to. She needs to know he’s a rapey piece of shit.”
“Don’t say rapey. It makes rape cutesy. He’s a rapist. And his friends are, too, and this needs to get leaked. Even if Kami says she doesn’t want anyone to see the video, you need to leak it. You have to.”
“Hennie, she isn’t going to say she wants this covered up. Trust me. She’s going to be so upset, but she’ll want the world to see that shit.”
“Oh, Lacey. She’s your friend, so you’re blind. But those girls won’t want anyone to see their dirty laundry. They’ll protect him like little lemmings. You need to make sure he isn’t surrounded by a fortress.”
“I mean, if she wants to protect him, I’ll totally out him myself. I have no intention of letting this go. He drugged me so that he could rape me. I know what happened. And I have video proof of it. Fuck him. And her, if that honestly is how she responds. But I can’t see it. I really can’t.”
“Good. You need to hand this over to the cops. This is serious. I don’t think it should be protected.”
“I agree.” I shivered.
“Okay, but wait, you’re at the Four Seasons in a hotel room with Jordan right now?”
“Yeah, he’s sleeping.” I lowered my voice again, realizing I was nearly shouting.
“Oh, wow. That is a crazy twenty-four hours. What are you going to do? I mean, you can’t be mean to him. He rescued you.”
“I know,” I hissed. “I’ll be nice to him. Or at least nicer than I’ve been up to this point.”
“You better. You just set him up and screwed him over. So, I’m in your bed right now.” She yawned, losing the adrenaline she was obviously rocking before.
“What?”
“Yeah, Martin asked if I wanted to hang, since you were going out to catch a creep and all. And your grandma was psychotic about him being alone. So I came over, and we watched movies ’til late. Grandma might send you some angry texts; we tried to cover for you, but she was all kinds of sassy about you going out again. Grandma’s a real hater of fun.”
“Oh my God. I got drugged and didn’t come home. Jesus. I’m a hot mess. I’m so sorry. Thanks for going over.”
“No, it was great. We marathoned The Hobbit. I had fun. Anyway, I wanted to make sure you knew the status of Grandma’s rage. I’m gonna go make coffee. I’ll text you later.”
“Okay. Thanks again. Bye.” I hung up and stared at the door, wondering what the heck I was going to say to Jordan. Thanks for saving my life? Thanks for being a cheater but not a pervert? Sorry I screwed you over; wish I’d trusted Monty when he claimed you were really a nice guy even though Marcia and I assumed a lot of bad shit about you?
Cringing, I pulled on a robe and tied it tight before I opened the door and peeked into the room. He was still passed out, so I walked to the closet and got an extra blanket. I covered him with it, trying not to stare at his handsome face as he slept. It was creepy to watch someone sleep, and yet, I found myself wanting to. I spent several minutes this way, being weird, before I climbed into the bed to lie down again.
My head hurt.
My feet hurt.
My throat burned like I’d had heartburn while I was sleeping.
My stomach ached.
And for some strange reason, my right eye wouldn’t stop watering.
When my head hit the pillow, my mind started working.
It ran over scenes from the pin and the club and the way I awoke.
It played with dangerous ideas like what if.
What if Jordan and the doctor weren’t just taking care of me, what if they also—no. I wouldn’t entertain that one.
I owed him a debt of gratitude, regardless of how I felt about the way he lived his life. As a human, he’d been pegged correctly by Monty and Marcia: Jordan was a nice man with a good heart. He was kind. And he and Monty being friends made sense. It didn’t make Monty less; it made them equals. Almost. Close to.
The pillow, the soft bed, and the sound of the cute guy who’d saved me and called me Cinderella snoring softly next to me lulled me, and eventually I lost the battle with my mind and passed out again.
This time I didn’t worry about how I would wake up.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
THE MOST BEAUTIFUL GIRL IN THE WORLD
Jordan
She slept, and again I watched.
This time I didn’t watch the way her chest rose and fell or worry she might die. I still worried, but it was lessened, remarkably.
I worried more about the fact that she was here, and for whatever reason, she might still hate me—well, not whatever, but now that her reason was nonexistent, I hoped maybe we could talk and I could explain. I could even tell her the lengths I went to, humiliating myself by pretending to hit on some random girl at a bar so that I could be free for her.
I mentally took a deep breath, realizing I was rambling in my mind.
Lacey Winters was in my bed, and there wasn’t a chance I was going to screw this up.
I jumped up, ordered room service quietly from the sitting room, and showered as fast as humanly possible so she didn’t wake and leave while I was in there.
While I pulled on the other hotel robe, I ordered us both new clothes and a long jacket for leaving the hotel.
I had my driver on standby to pick us up the moment the clothes arrived.
And then as the food came, I started making noises, like I had just awoken and this food was a normal hotel occurrence. I worried she might think I frequented the hotel a lot and get nervous, but her comfort was more important.
She stirred as I paid the attendant and closed the door as loudly as it would allow.
“Oh, man, I passed out.” She yawned and stretched, shifting and finally sitting up. “What time is it?”
“Ten. I ordered us some breakfast. Fitz said you should try to eat and rest.”
“Fitz?” She scowled.
“The doctor who was here.”
“Oh, right.” She tapped her finger against her lip. A storm was brewing in her eyes, but she smiled and got off the bed, fixing her robe and ensuring not even an inch of skin showed. “I want to thank you, Jordan. What you did, it was amazing, and I don’t know how to ever repay you for that.” She was sincere, not mean or judgmental or cruel or harsh for once.
It threw me for a loop. “You’re welcome.” I said it as if it was nothing, which it was. Technically. “Any man who considers himself a gentleman would have done the
same thing.”
“That’s not true.” She sat at the small table in the window.
“Coffee?” I lifted the large pot.
“Please. With cream.”
I made her a coffee, an act I’d never done in my life. I’d made my own but never for another person. Except my mother. On Mother’s Day.
I handed her the coffee and slid the breakfast plate in front of her.
She lifted the cup to her nose and breathed in, sighing as she took her first sip. “I can’t believe last night.” She sounded upset, which made sense. Someone had tried to do the worst thing possible to her.
“I need to know who.” I leaned in, desperate for the answer. I had plans, not that I would tell her that.
“I don’t know.”
“You said a name this morning. Miguel. What did that mean?”
“Nothing.” She was lying. “I don’t know. I can’t remember now.” She was a bad liar. Why would she protect someone for this?
“I want to make sure this never happens again. He has to be held accountable.”
“If I remember anything I’ll tell you. I barely recall the doctor being here.”
“He’s a friend. I promise you, you were safe from the moment that drug hit you until this moment now.”
“I’m not safe now?” She lifted an eyebrow, cracking a playful grin.
“Well—” I contemplated many jokes and innuendoes but decided against them. She likely wasn’t in the mood to flirt, not after what happened. “I can’t guarantee the food won’t kill you.” It was a bad recovery, but she made me nervous. I desperately didn’t want to screw this up.
“Thank you for this, as well.” She lifted her coffee and sipped.
And we were back to the awkward silence.
“So, I wanted to tell you that you were right. And I want to apologize. I have ended my relationship with Amy; it’s over. You’d be proud I ruined our fathers’ friendship and destroyed any chances mine would ever forgive me for this insubordination. He might never speak to me again, actually. My grandpa told me he will see me on Monday to discuss what happened, so there’s a chance that he might move past this, and he’s the one who matters. And Amy is free to be with her drummer. And I am—” I almost said free to flirt with her but paused. “Free from whoring myself out for the sake of my family anymore.”
Her eyes flared, but her lips lifted into a smile. She didn’t say a word. In fact, the awkward silence multiplied into something monstrous—tension.
“So I will never be that douchebag again who hits on girls while his parents are arranging his marriage.” I lowered my gaze, conflicted on how this wasn’t a positive thing. She’d called my integrity and honor into question. I wasn’t defending myself. I’d told her she was right.
“I’m happy for you,” she said after a minute, still clutching the small mug. “I should probably get going, though. I have to call everyone and let them know I’m safe.” She paused in her new line of lying. “What are we telling everyone, by the way?”
“What do you want to say?” I was not giving up, but considering her situation, this was a tough dance to perform.
“I guess that we hooked up. Marcia will have tracked my phone here. She had to have seen us leave together if you were carrying me. No one saw me drunk, so I can’t say that I was sick. What else is there?”
“Of course. If that’s what you want to say, then it will be the story. I think you should reconsider telling me who this asshole is who drugged you, though. I’d like to deal with that.”
“Thank you.” Her eyebrows knit together, and her eyes softened. “You don’t know what that means to me.” She put the coffee down and got up, glancing at her robe. “I guess I need clothes.”
“They’ll be arriving momentarily. I ordered you something to throw on and a long jacket so you’d be comfortable.” I got up too.
“Oh, that was nice of you,” she whispered, again conflicted about something.
“Lacey.” I stepped closer, taking my chance that the conflict was good and not her coming up with more reasons to hate me. “What I did the first time I met you was inexcusable. And the second time as well.” I stepped closer, though not too close so as not to scare her. “I never thought about you the way you think I did. You would never be a side chick or a fling or someone I could even consider seeing only part of the time.”
“Jordan—”
“Please let me finish.” I tried to be firm. “The moment I saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world. But then you challenged me and scolded me and set boundaries for not only yourself but me too. You demanded I shrug aside the person my parents had forced on me, and also respect you and myself. What I didn’t realize was that I was disrespecting so many people with those simple actions. I hate that I disrespected you. And that you think I disrespected myself. I hate that you think so little of me.” I took that final step, daring to lift a hand to her soft cheek and cup her face. “And I wouldn’t dare ask for forgiveness, but I would ask for a chance. Please, give me a chance to prove to you who I am and how much I respect you.”
Her eyes watered, and she swallowed a lump in her throat as she thought for far too long before she nodded. “Fine. I will give you one chance. You gave me a second chance at life, so I suppose that will make us even.”
“Thank you.” I clung to her, wanting so badly to kiss her, but I didn’t. I held off, proving I was a man of my word.
I was.
Normally.
A knock at the door saved me.
“That must be the clothes.” I slid my hand down her face, memorizing every piece of it, and walked to the door.
Marcia La Croix stood with her head tilted to the side and a smug look on her face.
“Hi.” She grinned, moving her eyes across the room to Lacey. “You didn’t answer my texts, so I had to make sure you weren’t being made into a skin suit.”
Lacey walked to me and slid her hand into mine, making my entire body go numb and then burst to life. “Sorry, I was busy. I should have called.”
“I’ll forgive you. Monty’s downstairs. Let’s brunch here, and you can tell us all about it.” She winked.
“Fine.” Lacey laughed like the horrors of the prior night had never happened. “Be down in a minute.”
“Two minutes. Or I send the marines in to pry you two from this room.” She shook her head and turned away, sauntering off.
As the door closed I stared down at the worried eyes searching mine.
“I’ll call about those clothes again,” I offered.
“I am so sorry for making you do this.”
“You’re not making me do anything.” I smiled and went for my phone.
I contemplated thanking God as I dialed, but I decided I’d better wait for something bigger to thank him for.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
GET IN HER PANTS
Lacey
I stared at my phone for two minutes, then tried not to think as I sent the video to Kami from the Test Dummy email. I took a deep breath and told myself it was the right choice.
“The dress is a perfect fit. We need to hurry.” I came out of the bathroom looking good enough, but not amazing. The clothes Jordan had surprisingly ordered me were not my new favorites, but they were better than my sweat-drenched frock from the night before. And considering I’d arrived at the hotel being carried, I was doing far better on the way out.
“My pants are too tight.” He tried lunging, but the butt was fitted like skinny jeans.
“Oh, my.” I started to laugh, lifting a hand to my mouth. “Yeah, those are tight.” I grabbed at his sweater and pulled it down a bit, wincing. “No time to wait for different pants.”
“This is ridiculous. I ordered the right size, I checked. They should fit me.” He sounded desperate and looked adorable, and I was still struggling with it all.
He was so hot and sweet, and yet here I was in the hotel he’d said he was going to bring Hennie to when she’d pla
yed the role of anonymous seductress.
It was confusing.
“You can see your religion in those pants.” I tried not to stare at the bulging crotch area. “But, you do look nice. They fit you well.” I couldn’t keep a straight face to save my life or his dignity.
“Monty’s going to slaughter me.” He sighed and offered an arm. “I guess my reputation hasn’t got much left anyway.”
Wondering if he meant since Amy dumped him, I held my breath for a moment before I took it, still hesitant in my movements around him. He had me shaken, I had to give him that. I was certain when I’d emailed Amy that my opinion of him wouldn’t ever change, but everything after that moment screamed that I didn’t dare judge him on his actions regarding the fake relationship. And I owed him at least the chance he’d asked for.
I wouldn’t be blind going in, though; I would watch carefully, looking for clues as to who was his genuine self.
We walked to the elevator, both silent. Our awkward silence was weird. Tense.
When we got into the elevator, he glanced down at me, staring at my lips.
“They’re chapped. I know.” I rubbed my mouth with my free hand. “Is it really noticeable?” I didn’t have moisturizer in my purse, the one thing I was missing.
“No.” His eyes narrowed with humor. “I’m not staring at your lips because they’re chapped, Lacey.” He chuckled, still staring. My stomach dropped, and I stole my gaze back from his, glancing at the metal door making attempts to reveal our reflections. I didn’t want him to see the blush on my cheeks.
He wanted to kiss me?
The door opened, saving us from another awkward moment. He led me across the foyer to the restaurant, waving when he saw Monty.
I smiled, trying really hard to be cool.
We were lying about hooking up so no one would know I was drugged, because if they did, they’d know I was the girl in the video. Thankfully no one but Hennie would ever know I was behind the Test Dummy. My face was completely hidden. Since that video was going to get released no matter what, there was a chance Jordan would put two and two together, but I could explain it away, saying I must have been standing near that girl and Miguel. Or maybe he drugged several of us.
