by Anne Mercier
"After a few minutes of being assaulted, I hear a high-pitch laugh and when I look up, it's Alison. But it's not her hitting me. It's still the masked man."
"Is the man ever revealed?" Dr. Wheeler asks.
I nod, swallowing hard, unsure of what I feel.
"And who did it reveal?"
"Uh," I hedge, picking at my leggings again. "Cameron."
Dr. Wheeler just nods.
"You don't seem surprised," I say.
"Truthfully, I'm not. Cameron's bullied you as a child and in high school, and he's been making you very unhappy lately."
"Plus, he's betrayed me by hanging out with the psycho."
"Exactly. That is the piece of the puzzle that ties your nightmare to Cameron. You know it's not really him who attacked you, right?" he asks.
"I do. He's hurt me emotionally, but not physically," I tell him with a frown.
"Sometimes we tie one form abuse with another and in dreams, or nightmares, we put the abuser into the place of the one who's really doing the attacking," he explains. "In this case, I'd suspect it's because both the past and the present tie Cameron to Alison and she's the one who—allegedly—had someone do this to you. Plus, you feel betrayed by Cameron's continued association with Alison so your subconscious thrusts him into the place of the attacker."
"Man. I am so fucked up," I breathe, dismayed at how screwed up I am in my head and heart when it comes to Cameron and Alison.
The doc just waits for me.
"They really did a number on me," I admit.
He inclines his head.
"How do I know I'm not this messed up about everyone else?" I ask, needing to know if I can trust myself.
"None of this has to do with anyone else. You nightmares are only about these people, this situation along with other situations where Cameron and Alison are present, correct?" he asks.
"Yes."
"Then rest assured, you're only trying to cope with the enormity of what's happened. The nightmares will lessen and eventually stop the more you talk about things and rationalize them in your head. But you're not ready for that yet. It's too fresh—the trauma. It will take time for you to recover and be able to even attempt to make sense of what's happened," Dr. Wheeler explains.
"What do I do until then? The nightmares will keep coming?"
"I'm afraid so."
"Great," I mutter, deflated.
"Sebastian and Alexa are there for you. Lean on them. Talk to them about what's bothering you. When you have nightmares, tell them what happens in them. The more you open yourself up to what's happened, the quicker you'll start to heal."
"Okay. I'll try."
"What else is on your mind, Olivia? Anything new going on?"
"As a matter of fact… the other night Cam an I broke up… well, I broke up with him. It was time," I admit.
"We've agreed that we can be blunt with one another," Dr. Wheeler reiterates.
I nod. "Go ahead."
"Now that you and Cameron are no longer in a relationship, you're going to have to deal with your feelings for Sebastian—the ones you've been denying and repressing," he states candidly.
"Tell me something I don't know," I begin.
And the last thirty minutes are spent talking about Sebastian and the fact that I've always thought he was hot, the fact that he makes my girlie bits tingle, the fact that he makes my heart beat faster, and the fact that he makes me feel safe.
These last thirty minutes I confess everything and it feels good to finally admit it to Dr. Wheeler and to myself.
twelve
"Do you want to go to the game?" Bash asks.
"It's raining," I tell him, wrinkling my nose.
He frowns. "It should be snowing. Mother Nature's all kinds of fucked up."
"Apparently so. Is it okay if we skip the game?" I ask, not really wanting to get soaking wet sitting in the stands watching my ex-boyfriend play football—not to mention the fear of being in the area of the attack. I still have nightmares. They're easing up and Dr. Wheeler is helping. I honestly don't know how I'd have gotten through the last couple weeks without Dr. Wheeler, Lex, and Bash.
He shrugs "I'm good with skipping being chilled to the bone. This game is a no-brainer for them."
"That's what Lex said, but she still wants to go."
"You wanna go to the party after?" he asks.
"Sure. I finally feel presentable enough to be out in public," I admit. "And I'm pretty fond of my new nose—even if it is still bruised a bit."
"Love," Bash says, shaking his head. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. Whoever did this is the one who should be ashamed and they should be locked up."
I nod. "The cops can't find anything but they said they're keeping their eye on Alison."
"The restraining order makes me feel better," Sebastian confesses. Him admitting that is a big deal.
I nod. "Me too."
"Livvy, I—"
The door opens and a livid Alexa comes storming in. She slams the door behind her, her fists balled up tight, her body rigid, and she lets out this angry scream the likes of which I've never heard before. It's pretty damn scary to see her this pissed.
"What is going on?" I ask.
"Are you sure you want to know? Because it's bad. Really bad. Really, really, really bad and I can't believe it. I just can't—what the fuck?!" she shouts. "How… why… son of a bitch!"
"Lex, baby," Bash coaxes, walking over and pulling her into his tall, lean, perfectly sculpted body. "Calm down. Deep breaths." He eases back. "Breathe. There you go. Slow and easy."
When she appears to be calmer, he bends his knees until he's eye level with her. "You alright?"
She nods. "I'm okay," she says too quickly. "Really. I’m good. I'll be fine. I'm okay." She's babbling and a babbling Lex is a distraught Lex.
"Come sit," I urge.
She shakes her head. "I can't. I'm too fucking pissed off!" she shouts.
I look to Bash as he sits down next to me and drapes his arm over my shoulders. "If this is how she's got to be when she tells us, then we'll deal with our ears ringing later."
He sighs, amused. "If we must."
"Let's hear it," I bark to Alexa. Her eyes spark, her face flushes an even darker red, and she lets out another angry roar.
"Someone's going to think we're killing her in here," Bash whispers into my ear.
"Not if they know her," I whisper back.
"True enough."
"No more growling, roaring, or screaming. Words, Alexa Stone," I instruct.
"Oh, you want words. Okay, I've got words. Lots and lots of words. They're shitty words. Horrible words. Horrifying words. I just can't believe it. How could he do it? I mean after everything with you," she seethes and I tense up.
"Cameron?" I ask.
She nods. "Yep, my fuckwad brother. He wins the Dumbass of the Year award. He is such a fucking idiot! How he could…" she stops herself, eyes wide. "You need to be prepared. I know you two don't talk much anymore but this—this is so bad."
Yeah, we don't talk anymore but not because I don't want to, more like Cam doesn't have the time and doesn't want to make the effort.
I take a deep breath. "Oookay. Lay it on me." I mean, how bad can it be?
"Cam'sfuckingAlison," she says so fast I almost miss it.
I just had to ask.
I pause. Shaking my head. "Come again?"
Bash sits forward. "What?" he asks, eerily calm.
Lex nods her head. "You heard me right. He's banging the psycho. I have no idea what has gotten into my brother. He's lost his damn mind—his morals! His principles!" She starts pacing back and forth. "I have no idea what is going on. It's like I'm living in an alternate reality."
"I—wow. Just, wow," I mutter, too stunned, too hurt, and too betrayed to even form a coherent sentence.
"What the fuck?" Bash bites out. "Of all the people he could fuck, he had to pick
her? Are you fucking with me?" Bash scrubs his hands over his face, stands up, and paces much like Lex is doing. "How could he do that to Livvy? The guy claims he loves her but he's banging the bitch who set up Liv's assault?" He growls. "I'm gonna break his face."
"I don't know, Bash," Alexa barks, still outraged. "I don't know who he is anymore. He knows what she did."
"Who told you this?" I ask Alexa.
She balks. "I can't tell you that. Let's just say a reliable source. Someone I trust."
I nod slowly, letting it sink in—the fact that Cameron Stone has once again treated me like I'm worthless—like I'm something he'd scrape off the bottom of his shoe. I just sit in silence, not knowing what to say.
"Could they have misunderstood?" Bash asks.
Lex shakes her head. "No."
"We're going to that party tonight," I announce. "If he's screwing the psycho, I want to see it for myself."
"Babe, don't do this to yourself," Bash tells me.
"Do what?" I ask.
"Put yourself through this—unless," he pauses, narrowing his eyes.
"Unless…?"
"Unless you're still in love with him."
I lift a brow. "Um, no. I'm not in love with him. I just want to see if he's as horrible of a human being as I think he is."
Bash sighs. "This is the guy who bullied you in high school—to the point you avoided him and were afraid whenever you saw him. This is the guy who bullied you and said fucked up things to you about losing your friends when you got here. This is the guy who all of a sudden decided he wanted a real girlfriend—and because you're you, so sweet and caring, that girl was you—the same girl he treated like shit all of her life. This is the guy who treated you okay before football season, but not great. Frat parties aren't the best dates—and he only took you out on one."
I open my mouth and Bash shuts me down with a look.
"This is the guy who made you believe he loved you and then disappeared from your life—not gradually, but bam! Gone. This is the guy who made you feel guilty for wanting more than a text. This is the guy who didn't defend you to Alison when she started her shit. This is the guy who didn't show up when you were in the hospital. This is the guy who, when he did show up, made it about him."
I sink back into the sofa cushions and listen to Bash tell me the cold, hard truth of it all.
"This is the guy who called you and texted you instead of coming to see you after you were attacked and then decided to show up three days after you were allowed to go home, after being beaten so badly you could have died. This is the guy who yelled at you, knowing what you'd been through, when he finally showed up—not taking into account the trauma you'd been through, the PTSD you'd be having after that attack, or the injuries. Nope. This is the guy who only thought of himself the entire time he's known you." He pauses, resting his hands on his hips, his head hanging down.
When he looks up, his gaze locks on mine. "So why, Livvy, would you even give him the benefit of the doubt? He has never treated you the way you deserved to be treated. I watched it and I tolerated it because it's what you wanted. But, babe, I'd like to think we're starting something together now and I can't sit back and let him treat you that way anymore. I won't. I am in love with you, Livvy, and I will do whatever it takes to protect you—even be an asshole and remind you of all the ways Stone has treated you like shit."
"Bash," I whisper. "I'm not giving him the benefit of anything. I remember who he is and what he's done. I thought, for a short time, he'd changed, but I was corrected when he stopped being the nice guy and reverted back to the dick he'd always been. Sorry, Lex," I say, glancing at her and wincing a bit.
She waves a hand in the air from the chair she's now sitting in. "Have at it. You aren't saying anything I'm not thinking. I'm embarrassed that he's my brother. I'm mortified he treated you the way he has, and I'm purely disgusted for his actions right now. Alison. I just… I can't."
I nod. "Tonight let's go see it for ourselves, just for confirmation. I don’t plan on hanging around and watching it and I don't know why I need to see it, but I just do."
I walk over to Bash and he wraps me up in his arms.
"Then we'll go," he agrees, pressing a kiss to my temple.
"Thank you," I whisper.
"Anything for you. You know that."
"I'm in love with you, too, you know," I tell him and he smirks.
"Yeah, I know, and I'll never take you for granted."
We just sort of gravitate to one another, our lips meeting for a chaste kiss. Screw that. I pull his head back down and slip my tongue inside his mouth. He has no issue with it—I can tell because he's right there tasting me while I taste him.
Lex clears her throat.
Bash and I pull back slowly, our gazes locked, smiles on our faces.
"Wow," I whisper.
Bash just swallows hard and nods.
Alexa groans. "Gawd. If I didn't love you both so much, I'd be sick at how adorable you two are together. This is what a relationship is supposed to be like. This is true love—the stuff that happily ever afters are made of," she says, wagging a finger between Bash and me.
"Wait till I get her naked," Bash teases and Lex groans.
"C'mere, Sugar," Bash coaxes. She walks over and we wrap her into our embrace.
With these two as my best friends, I can make it through anything.
thirteen
Alexa decided it'd be better for her if she stayed home. She didn't want to end up in jail for assault and I didn't have bail money.
Bash and I arrive at the frat house an hour after the game ended. The Warriors won, of course—but I don't care about any of that right now. I just need to see it.
"It's still raining," I complain.
"Again, better than snow," Bash reminds me.
"I suppose, but I'm kind of excited for the first big snowstorm. We can be stranded here with hot chocolate, movies, popcorn, and my bed," I tell him with a wink.
He growls and pulls me into a hug, our bodies flush. "Mother Nature needs to get her seasons straight. Where's that damn snow?" He kisses me slowly then winks.
I snicker—up until Bash rests his hand on the doorknob.
"You ready?"
I nod, closing my umbrella. "Yep. I already know what I'm going to see."
He wraps his arm around me and pushes the door open. We walk into a room packed full of people, partying and dancing, music so loud I can't hear myself think.
It only takes about ten steps for me to see them. They're sitting in the same chair Cam was in when I saw him with Brittany. Now he's got an even viler bitch on his lap—and she's straddling him and rubbing against him in front of everyone—like no one else in the room matters but them—and he's just as into it. His hands cupping her ass as he devours her mouth.
I see a line of shot glasses on the table next to him—I count six—and I'm really glad I'm not on the receiving end of his sloppy kisses. I curl my lip and look at Sebastian. He's watching me, angry—not at me, but at what we're both seeing—the betrayal from someone I'd foolishly trusted.
Brax and Dekker notice us across the room and their eyes widen. I just roll my eyes, flip them off, and head for the door. They're just as guilty as Cam—and they never once came to see how I was. That goes to show me they were only my friends for as long as I was with Cam.
When we get back outside, Bash closes the door behind us and we stroll down the walkway hand-in-hand.
"You all right, love?" he asks.
"Yep. I'm just fine." I pull him to a stop. "I don't love him, babe. I don't think I ever did because right now I don't feel anything," I admit, a bit embarrassed at how easily I called it love.
"What about me?" he asks. "Do you know you love me? I mean really love me?"
I don't hesitate. "Yes," I nod.
"How do you know?"
"You are my best friend. The one I can talk to about anything and everything�
�even the most embarrassing things because I know you'll never judge or ridicule me. You respect me as much as I respect you. I can be just Olivia now. I've learned who I am and I really like myself. I know what I want and I know I won't settle for less, but I prefer Olivia with Sebastian—Livvy and Bash." I stand on tiptoes and kiss him softly. "I'm not the best me without you."
"A lesser man would cry at those words," he tells me softly.
"But not you?" I ask.
"Nope, not me. Those are words I'm going to hold close every single day because I know you'd never say them unless you truly meant them. You've made me the happiest man alive, Livvy. I only hope I can do the same for you."
"You already do," I answer.
The rain starts again without warning, coming down in big, fat drops. I take my umbrella and just as I'm about to open it, Bash grabs it and throws it across the front lawn.
I'm stunned. "Why did you do that?"
"Because, love, you don't need that fucking umbrella. The rain coming down isn't punishing you anymore, right?" he asks.
"Right," I agree.
"So you don't need to be shielded from it. What you need to do is let it wash over you, cleansing away all the bad, all the negative, and start over fresh and new."
He holds out his hand to me and I take it.
We walk back to the dorm, the rain soaking us, dripping off of us, purging the fear, sadness, anxiety, grief, guilt, and mistakes of the past, leaving us refreshed and ready to face an untainted future together.
We get back to the dorm and I'm nervous—so nervous and I know he can feel it.
"We don't have to do anything you aren't ready for, Livvy. You're injured and I don't want to hurt you," Bash tells me.
I stand on tiptoe, straining a bit and aching because of it, but the ache between my legs is more urgent. Bash leans down, meeting me half way, and when his lips touch mine, softly, so gently, again, and again, I can finally breathe. It's like, when his lips touched mine, everything became real.
