by Kata Čuić
My only relationship was with Kieran, and that turned out to be a lie. One I told myself over and over. One that kept me tied to what was comfortable and easier to ignore than to face. If I want something different, I’ll have to ask for it. Maybe Jason and I can meet somewhere in the middle between who he really is and what I really want.
“As much as I feel like a peacock with you on my arm, I can’t wait to get you home and peel you out of this dress.” His lips rest against my forehead, tickling me as he speaks. “We’re gonna do it right this time. No frustration, no anger. I’m going to make love to you the way he never did.”
My heart lodges in my chest. Not only over the L-word, but at his promise. Call me a glutton for punishment, but I want it so bad, I’m willing to go against the promises I’ve made to myself to believe his lie. “I wouldn’t be opposed to a little light spanking, too.”
He pulls away enough to gaze down at me with shock painted on his face. “Is that you or your friends talking?”
No time like the present to make my wants known, even if my cheeks feel like they’re on fire. “Me.”
“What the fuck?”
Maybe he didn’t hear me because my pulse is pounding so loud in my ears, I can’t hear anything else, either. “I said me. I want that.”
He shakes his head, gazing somewhere beyond me. “Why is Ro here? I thought she wasn’t allowed to attend Greek events anymore.”
I glance over my shoulder and sure enough, there she is at the entrance, looking nothing like her usual confident self. Her nervousness is palpable, even from across the room. “Oh my God. Hayleigh will tear her to pieces.”
“I’ll handle it.” He releases me from his hold but places a kiss on my forehead before he steps away. “You need to work the room. This is your big night, and you’ve earned every ounce of praise for it. Go talk up the Warm Hearts foundation and push raffle tickets. I’ll come find you when there’s no chance of a scene.”
His idea has merit, but I’m rooted to the spot as I watch him obviously interrogate Rosie over her appearance. In spite of her champion appearing at her side, her anxiety seems to grow until Hayleigh steps up to them.
I’m seconds from my claws coming out to play. The winter wonderland I spent hours creating blurs in my periphery as I storm toward Hayleigh with only revenge on my mind and pain in my heart.
Before I can start a fight of my own, Rosie intercepts me. “Let them talk.”
There’s something in her expression that curdles my stomach. “What have you done?”
Although her hands are holding me back, she can’t meet my hard stare. “She wants to apologize to him, Emma.”
I want to scream, but I dare not take money away from people who really need it by creating a scene. Jason wouldn’t want that, either. Wellbridge is hungry for their next fight, but it won’t come from me unless it absolutely needs to. I don’t need a public ring to take Hayleigh down. “How can an apology ever be adequate? You know what she did to him.”
“That’s the only reason I agreed to set it up.” She finally meets my gaze. “He needs this. You know he does. He’ll never be able to have a future until he lets go of his past.”
“How is he supposed to do that if she dredges it up all over again?”
“She wants a second chance.” Rosie’s blue eyes plead with me to understand. I don’t, and she knows it. “Don’t we all deserve mercy? She realizes what she did was wrong, and she wants to make amends. Do you really want to be hung up on another man whose heart and past is tied to someone else? You deserve to know where his loyalties lie as much as he deserves the chance to find out.”
In the deepest recesses of my heart, I know she’s playing me. I feel the deception in my bones. Her argument is so finely crafted, her words so deftly wielded, there’s nothing I can say to refute the facts she’s placed in front of me.
Rationally, I understand she’s taken all our weaknesses and used them to her advantage. But, the weak girl in me can’t resist. “I do. I do deserve to know the truth. And so does he.”
Lie: The truth will set you free.
He leaves the ring with her plastered to his sweaty, shirtless side, a victor celebrating his fortune with all the spoils of life. Always playing the part, Hayleigh beams at his adoring fans, but there’s something decidedly calculating behind her sparkling blue eyes. Something Rosie often tried to warn me about.
She’s smiling because she has what everyone else wants. She’s the leader of the pack again.
I creep along the back wall, intent on making my retreat before anyone notices my presence. I don’t want to be mistaken for the jealous castaway, heartbroken and planning my revenge like a jilted lover might.
I’m here in case Jason gets hurt.
Just as Rosie suspected, he jumped at Hayleigh’s offer to reconcile. I stood with Rosie, watching, as they negotiated the terms of their agreement. Hayleigh would get to relieve her guilt, and Jason would get the do-over he’d been secretly pining for.
“We have a history together.” He holds my steady, helpless hands in his shaking, capable ones, assuming I don’t already know the sordid details of said history, which he doesn’t bother to explain. “I don’t want to hurt you, but this is something I need to do. I fucked up. Badly. This is my chance to get it right. Please understand.”
And that was that. He didn’t ask me to wait for him while he worked out his demons. Didn’t promise we could still be friends, or that he would find me again when he found out what he needed to know.
I blink as his form disappears from sight when the door closes to his usual holding cell. They must want privacy to celebrate.
Tara appears in front of me, holding out a drink and looking as depressed as I feel. “Wanna get annihilated and forget this weekend ever happened?”
As much as I’d rather scurry home and cry myself to sleep, I’m not the only one suffering. I thought the Holiday Bash couldn’t get worse, but not even an hour after Jason made his choice, new rumors spread through the dance floor like wildfire.
“I can’t believe they still had the fight tonight.” Tara shakes her head before throwing back her drink and downing it in three large swallows. “It was one thing to go ahead with the Holiday Bash because we didn’t know what happened yet, but it’s been twenty-four hours. The whole goddamned campus knows by now.”
I chug the drink she offers, knowing no amount of drunkenness will erase my guilt. It claws at me from the inside, tearing me apart slowly. Agonizingly.
All I wanted to do was help. All I’ve done is fuck up. I guess I understand how Jason feels about Hayleigh after all.
“Fuck this. We need shots.” Tara grabs my arm and pulls me up the stairs into the kitchen, where we find Lisa and Jacquelyn. Judging by the glassiness of their eyes, they’re already several shots into the party.
Jacquelyn grabs two more shot glasses and fills them all to the brim with tequila, spilling the golden liquid onto the counter. None of the brothers milling around seem to care. Though the fight went on as planned, the mood in the house is decidedly somber, with the exception of Hayleigh. Kieran has been strangely absent, though it must have been his decision to go on as though nothing is wrong.
Everything is so, so wrong.
Lisa raises her shot glass in the air, her arm swaying a bit. “To Layla. May she finally be at peace.”
A chorus of agreement goes up from anyone within earshot. Every person in the room toasts to our fallen classmate, tipping everything in their various cups back in unison.
Jacquelyn bursts into tears as Lisa does her best to shoulder her nearly dead weight. “Our sorority should be mourning together, but none of us can stand to be in the same house where she was found.”
Tara shakes her head, then pours another shot. “I can’t even imagine, honey. What are you doing here, of all places?”
Mascara runs down Jacquelyn’s cheeks as she raises her bloodshot gaze. A coldness creeps into her eyes I didn’t think she was capable
of. “Because I want to know who’s responsible. Those text reveals are related to this fighting ring. Someone caused this. And that someone should be forced to watch Layla’s parents bury their only child. They should have to be there when Bianca gets out of the psych ward for a suicide watch of her own because she found the body and can’t handle the guilt she feels for not being strong enough to hold up Layla’s weight until the paramedics arrived. They should have to suffer, be tortured, and live a long, despicable life in agony for what they’ve done.”
I should. I should suffer all that and more. It’s all I can think about, but I can’t immolate myself without taking others down with me. Others who don’t deserve to be crucified. Confessions burn my tongue. I open my mouth to speak, to claim ownership of my part, but a shout from the living room cuts me off and has everyone running toward the sound.
I push through the mash of bodies crowding the doorway. I’m responsible for Layla’s demise, even if unintentionally, but I’ll be damned if I let one more person be hurt by this dangerous game.
The expected impromptu fight isn’t taking place. No one is mobbing Jason, assuming he’s to blame. Instead, Kieran stands on the only couch in the living room, obviously drunk out of his mind. His thick, dark hair stands at odd angles, his clothes are rumpled and stained with what appears to be spilled liquor, his face is sporting a day’s worth of scruff, but it’s his eyes that show the depth of his suffering. Tears stream down his cheeks. The aloof alpha male I knew is nowhere to be seen.
God, what this must be forcing him to relive. All his hopes for change, no matter how poorly enacted, have been snuffed out in a heartbeat.
The entire room seems to stop breathing, waiting on his words. Everyone knows he’s the ringleader of this operation. He’s never hidden his role. Maybe they’ve been waiting to mob him, knowing Jason is only the puppet, forced to do his master’s bidding.
I don’t deserve for any of my prayers to be answered, but I beg for a miracle, anyway.
He paces the length of the couch, swigging from a bottle of indiscernible liquor. His motion is stunted; he sinks into the cushions, creating the appearance of a cartoonish variance in height. Phi Kappa brothers surround the perimeter of his self-made prison, but no one makes a move to stop him or to talk him down.
“You stupid fucks,” he slurs. “I see the expressions on your faces. I’ve heard the whispers across campus. You all think you’re so high and mighty. So beyond reproach in this tragedy. You need someone to blame for the unthinkable, so you point your fingers to the obvious culprits. But, what about you? Look how many of you are here tonight. What are you looking for? More bloodshed? Another reveal tomorrow? How many of you colluded together to figure out the lie in the reveals? Wasn’t it all you talked about, just to be able to get into the fights? You spread the gossip, only caring about your own skins. Not ever giving a thought to who was behind your next ticket to fun.”
A large body collides with mine. I glance up to see Jason at my side, with Hayleigh nowhere in sight. “He’s drunk. We need to get him down. No good will come of this.”
“How are we going to stop him?” I hiss. “Even his frat brothers aren’t trying to save face. And I haven’t seen Rosie all night. Kieran’s mourning as much as anyone.”
Jason stares me down, an obvious war raging in his brown eyes. “The story he told you was a lie, but for whatever reason, he chose you. It might not have turned out the way you hoped, but you have power over him. Use it.”
The sword I thought I could wield has proved too heavy a burden. I’m powerless, caught up in this game I never had any hope of winning. For any of us. “This is all my fault.”
“No, it’s not. Kieran’s right about one thing. It’s everyone’s fault, not yours alone. We’re all villains who sometimes do heroic things.”
I glance around the room at all the downcast gazes, the slumped shoulders. Jacquelyn glares at Kieran as he continues to rant about the perversities of society. His words are lost in a muddle of slurring and sobbing.
“There’s nothing heroic about any of this.”
Jason bumps my shoulder to regain my attention. “If you won’t end this, I will. He’s going to take everyone down with him, and that cannot happen.”
The invisible weight of consequences burdens my shoulders, but my spine stiffens. “I’ll go to the police and confess. The only way to end this is for one of us to take the fall.” A watery laugh rasps my throat. “Guess I can still be the hero at the last hour. Maybe it’ll make up for my villainy.”
“Goddammit, Emma,” Jason grits out before throwing me over his shoulder. My airborne feet make contact with a few heads in the packed space, but Jason never releases his death grip on me. “King! No one cares about your sorry rant. Everyone’s already mourning enough. You wanna help someone? Get your ass down here and help her. She fainted.”
For all his poetry about heroism, Jason has no problem making me out to be the helpless damsel in distress.
People seem to buy his lie, probably because I’m not struggling at all. They’re mistaking my limp body for the truth rather than looking past their own grief enough to see what’s really going on. Jason’s tight rear fills my vision but in the periphery, feet clear a path. A loud thump on the hardwood signals Kieran hopping down from his perch. My head bounces up and down as we ascend the staircase at a clipped pace.
Spots dance in my field of view as the blood rushes to my head when Jason rights me and throws me on Kieran’s bed—a place I never imagined I’d be again.
He rounds on Kieran the moment the door closes. “What the fuck do you think you’re going to accomplish with that tirade?”
“What do you think you’re going to accomplish with that bitch on your arm?”
Kieran’s words are the equivalent of waving a red flag at a bull. Jason charges him, easily pinning him to his own bedroom door with a fistful of his shirt collar. Drunk as he is, Kieran doesn’t even try to fend off the attack.
“It was a lie!” I blurt, hoping to keep the inevitably bloody explosion at bay. “They were all lies! No one else was supposed to get hurt!”
Kieran falls to the floor in a heap when Jason releases him, rounding on me. He stalks toward the bed. “I know.”
“How?” Not that it matters. What’s done is done.
His gaze falls to the floor. “Rosie figured it out, not me. People had been confiding their dirty secrets to her for years, and their confessions only ramped up when she made herself the pariah on campus. They must have figured she’d never open their skeleton-filled closets she was only too recently unwilling to expose for herself. She knew nothing you were revealing was true.”
“Except one.” Damming my pointless tears is futile, no matter how selfish they may be. “One was truer than I could have ever imagined.” Slowly, my limbs screaming with every movement, I climb off the bed. “This needs to end. Now.”
Jason blocks my path, grabbing my face in his hands to the point of pain. “You will not take the fall for this. Do you hear me? You will not.”
The tiniest spark of bruised pride smolders in my chest. “You can’t stop me. I’m not yours to control.”
His touch softens, but he doesn’t release me. “I couldn’t control you either way. And I’m not going to try now. What I will do is appeal to your sense of reason and offer you something you’re too devastated to realize.”
My eyelids fall closed. Every breath pierces me with new pain. Arguing with Jason is pointless. I’ll simply have to wait him out.
Damp breath and soft lips feather over my forehead so lightly, the sensation might be imagined. “I want you to use that big brain and bigger imagination of yours. Think about how many more people might have been hurt if you hadn’t fooled everyone with your fake reveals. Remember what happened when Kieran released real ones. None of the people exposed that weekend harmed themselves. You are not responsible for Layla. She’d been struggling for years.”
A fresh wave of tears slicks my c
heeks.
His thumbs brush at the moisture. “You’re going to graduate next semester and go to medical school in Boston. You’re going to be one of the best damn doctors in the country. You’re not going to lift a finger to jeopardize that. I won’t let you. And do you know why?”
I shake my head.
His breath fans over my face. He must be close though I refuse to open my eyes to see. “You lost one, Doctor. One. But, you’re not done saving lives yet. You’ve already saved so many. You’re not selfish enough to take away more people’s futures because of a single mistake you made.”
I blink at him. “I can’t lose any more.”
“You will, though,” he insists. “And you’ll take every loss just as hard as this one. There are some things, no matter how hard you fight, that are completely out of your control. You did the best you could. And you will continue to do exactly that.”
Drunken laughter rings through the room. Kieran tries but fails to stand. “You thought my rant was pathetic? That’s the worst pep talk I’ve ever heard, especially coming from the guy who publicly dumped her last night for a pair of perkier tits.”
Jason’s on him again in a heartbeat, crouching low, getting in his face, and pushing him back against the door. “And you. You’ll keep your fucking mouth shut or so help me God, the skeletons hiding in your closet will be the least of your worries.”
Kieran scoffs at the threat. “You suck at poker, man. You assume I have anything left to lose.”
“Everyone has a weakness. You included. Don’t think I won’t use that to my advantage.” With his back to me, I can’t see Jason’s face, but the smile in his voice is impossible to miss. He’s not making threats; he’s making promises. “Your weakness is my strength. Hayleigh’s waiting for me. I have to go.”
