Seattle Sound Series, The Collection: Books One to Five

by Alexa Padgett

  “You have a life, Clay. It had to be better before you met me.”

  He reached up and tweaked my nose. “You’re my friend. I take care of my friends, just like you’ll take care of me if I need the help.”

  He winked, and it set off the same crazy fireworks in my chest as the last one had. “In you go. Tell your aunt hello. I enjoyed meeting her on Saturday.”

  Not knowing what else to do, I opened my car and climbed in. “You’re bossy. Do you normally steamroll people like this, or do you just expect me to be a pushover?”

  “Neither. I don’t need to do more than suggest, because you want to hang out with me as much as I want to hang out with you. But you can thank me for my security services with food. I’ll pick up some fish at the market.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not a great cook, but it’ll be a pleasure to do something nice for you.”

  “Oh, it’ll be mine, too. See you soon.”

  I was so engrossed in my thoughts, I had a hard time focusing on Aunt Bri at lunch.

  “So you’re talking to Asher’s attorney?” she asked.

  “I set it up yesterday when I went home.” My thoughts drifted back to Clay and the way he watched me drive away. Standing in the gray mist, his face obscured by his hood, the blue of his jeans and the red of his jacket bright spots. I’d felt this tug to turn around. To cuddle in close and wrap my arms around him, not that he’d offered to do more. He kept saying we were friends, which was nice.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  Aunt Briar folded her hands on the table, her large sapphire engagement ring flashing when it caught the overhead lights.

  “Of course.”

  “How did you know about Hayden? That you were in love?”

  “Not where I thought you were going with this.” She took a sip of her water. The waiter brought our soups and salads, along with a pile of onion rings. It was something Mom and I started years ago, and Aunt Bri insisted we continue, telling me no salad was complete without onion rings.

  After smiling my thanks at the waiter, I faced my aunt. She and Hayden had been close, really close, before he left to finish his world tour. Unfortunately, Briar was left to deal with the paparazzi who’d wanted the scoop on a lovers’ spat. She’d endured weeks of constant hounding before she and Hayden worked through their issues.

  Now she, like my mom, had the look of a very happy woman. And for the zillionth time in my life, I longed for that feeling, whatever it was, behind the look.

  If I was honest with myself, that was my real goal in life. More than becoming a vet, I wanted a man to love me as well as my mom and aunt were loved.

  “It’s just . . . well, Clay’s been really nice.”

  Aunt Bri wiped her mouth with her napkin and leaned back. “So you’ve seen him again.”

  “Yeah.” I dropped my gaze to the table, running my finger along the edge of the plate. “I want Asher’s lawyers to talk to the administration. See about criminal charges.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s starting here.” I hated saying the words. Pushing them past my closing throat was hard. So hard.

  “No,” Aunt Briar growled.

  I pushed my uneaten food back. “Worse after the gala last weekend. My friends Nessa and Jenna had to walk me to class yesterday. Clay walked me to my car so I could meet you here.”

  “Are you serious?” Briar whisper-yelled. She leaned back in her chair, setting her fork next to her plate with exquisite care. “You’re moving back home. You can take your courses online.”

  I shook my head. “That was my first thought, too. But I don’t want to do that. I’ve already changed schools, given up on my original dream.”

  “Abbi, this is your safety we’re talking about.”

  “It’s also my happiness. I’ve made new friends. I like them, and they seem to like me, even with all my baggage. That’s why I’m meeting Asher’s lawyer. I want to fight back. Like I should have then.”

  My aunt’s blue eyes were similar to mine, but right now they were harder than any sapphire I’d ever seen.

  I grabbed her hand. “I’ll wait until after your wedding. I don’t want to mess that up for you.”

  “Abs, I’m not worried about the press. We can handle that part. Asher and Hayden both have PR teams for this kind of stuff, which we begged you to use last May. I want to know the real reason why you’re willing to push back now when a few months ago you were too busy rolling over to consider another option.”

  Her eyes demanded the truth. Aunt Bri might not work in newspapers anymore but that didn’t mean she’d lost her investigative instinct.

  “It’s not just those pictures and what they implied.” My stomach tied itself up in knots.

  Did I want to do this? If I didn’t—there was the text Bethany sent me. I hadn’t seen it until I’d pulled up in front of the restaurant, planning to text Clay the rest of my schedule.

  I own the pictures and I own you. Don’t go near Clay Rippey again.

  I pulled out my phone, letting it scan my thumbprint, which made me shiver. So weird that I was trying to protect some part of my identity when social media had destroyed so much of it.

  Without a word, I handed over the device, message open.

  Aunt Bri read the text, eyes hardening. “Can I forward this to my phone?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you think she posted the pictures?”

  I nibbled my lip. How much did I want to tell her?

  “No. She’s a problem here, at Northern. Steve’s the one who took pictures of me at Tech.”

  “Your mom said Sally was involved in that.”

  I swallowed down the worst of my fears, unable to share them. The shame and confusion were unbearable. Soon, I’d know just what to accuse Steve of.

  “With the time that’s passed . . . It’s harder to bring a case even if Tech’s opened an investigation.”

  “I think Sally stepped forward and shared the information she gave me with the administration there,” I said.

  “If that becomes public, the media attention will be intense. So, yeah, you might as well press charges.”

  I blew out a breath. “I don’t want to run away again. I—” Heat crept up my neck, blooming hot and bright in my cheeks. “I really like Clay. He seems to like me, too. Even with all the nasty conjecture about me.”

  Aunt Bri bobbed her head once.

  “Is there more to this?” she asked, her voice low.

  Tears pricked the back of my eyes. I didn’t want to think about that. But I had two choices: either I faced my fears and learned to deal with them, or I didn’t.

  “Yes. There’s more. But can we start here? I’ll tell you the rest. I promise. I just need some time.”

  “I’ll see what I can dig up.” She sighed. “But it’s not going to be easy, Abbi. Some of the kids won’t be there anymore. These investigations are best done immediately.”

  “I didn’t know the school would even consider one until I saw Sally a couple of weeks ago.”

  Briar sat back in her chair. “This may grow, Abbi. It’s very likely it’ll spider out into something much bigger than we expect it to be. Especially once we file court papers. You’ll be inundated with questions. I’m not trying to scare you. I just want you to understand the reality of what this could become.”

  “I realized yesterday when this guy was talking about my girl parts in really crude terms that my silence was giving him permission to do so.” I looked around the restaurant, gaze jumping from one group to another, unsettled, flighty. The opposite of what I wanted to be. “This isn’t about Clay. I want to be whole again. I want to feel like my decisions, my feelings matter.”

  Aunt Briar took my hand. “Of course they do, sweetie. Of course.”

  Her eyes were full of concern and sadness. I’d gone through the pictures when I went home yesterday, but I just wasn’t ready to give those to Aunt Briar.

  As soon as I sat down here with my aunt, I wanted to
talk to Clay. See if he agreed with my strategy. I planned to ask Jenna and Nessa as well. I swallowed down the lump in my throat. Being part of a group, knowing someone cared about my feelings, was motivating.

  “Will you start at the beginning? I’m going to need as many details as I can get to investigate this properly,” Aunt Briar asked, her concern switching into professional interest.

  “Ask away.”

  17

  Clay

  I wasn’t sure Abbi would actually stop by after her lunch with her aunt. She was determined to handle this situation on her own, which made me both proud of her and irritated. I’d offered my help and my public image, not something I gave over lightly. She was supposed to be enthusiastic about pairing her name with mine. Instead, she’d seemed nonplussed. Worried even. That was new. And quite the hit to my ego.

  Leaving the restaurant. Still okay for me to swing by?

  My response was instantaneous. Yes.

  Much to tell you. Be there in half an hour.

  Come straight here. I’m serious!

  Was going to pick up some ingredients to make you dinner.

  Warmth filled me as my smile grew. She was planning to stay and make me dinner. I typed back: We can pick up whatever you need together. See you soon.

  K.

  Twenty minutes later, I opened the door to Abbi’s knock. Damn, she was a sight. Her eyes were still guarded, but the rest of her face seemed more relaxed.

  “Hi,” she said.

  I grabbed her hand and pulled her into the apartment. Dane had texted, letting me know he and Nessa wouldn’t be back until later because they’d decided to go on a sunset ride on the Ferris wheel. I had a couple of hours alone with Abbi, and while nerves fluttered in my belly, I looked forward to talking with her.

  “How was lunch with your aunt?”

  Abbi’s eyes had been roving the room but they came back to me. “Good. That’s what I want to talk to you about. She said to tell you hi. And to make sure you let her know about your gig schedule so she can tell Hayden.”

  “Nice of her. Want a drink?” I asked as I pulled her toward the couch.

  “I’m good.”

  She sat on the edge of the cushion. Fine tremors built in her slender fingers. I sat next to her, our knees bumping.

  “What’s wrong?”

  After a long moment, she raised her eyes to mine. “I’m going to press charges. Against Steve at least. Maybe Bethany, too.”

  “Takes some metaphorical balls, and I’m really proud of you for making the stand. I’ll help with the stuff here.” I sucked in my lip, thinking about my actions yesterday and this morning. “I should tell you, I’ve talked to the campus’s victim advocate on your behalf. I asked Nessa and Jenna to file complaints as well. We added a recording of a conversation between Nes, Jenna, Bethany, and me to the file this morning while you were in your lab. Nes and Jenna wanted to tell you, but you had enough going on.”

  She brushed her hair back from her cheek, which was paler than when she came in.

  “That’s probably smart,” she said. “It’ll help build the case here. I’d like to hear the conversation.”

  “Sure.”

  Her eyes flashed up to mine again, held. The darkness there shook me, and I hated seeing her hurt.

  “I’m going to take back my life. Part of that is because of you.” She held up her hand when I opened my mouth. “And Nessa and Jenna, and even the girl who talked to me after my calc class yesterday who slept with some guy last year, not knowing he recorded it on his laptop and later sent it to a bunch of his friends. Of course it went viral. She took a full bottle of pills because she was so overcome with the shame.”

  She sucked in a big breath. “There’s one other thing you need to know.” She pulled out a large manila folder. Her hand trembled so much the folder became a fan. Her mouth settled into a firm line.

  “Bethany sent me a text. I don’t know how she got my number, but it said she owned me and she owned more pictures. My aunt has the text, but I didn’t give these to her yet. I will. Or maybe I’ll give them to my mom so she can understand why I didn’t want to say anything earlier.”

  She thrust them toward me. “I wanted you to see. So you understand what being attached to me in the press actually means.”

  I took the envelope, awareness prickling up my neck. Whatever was in there, I wouldn’t like it. Abbi stood, her arms wrapped around her waist as she walked to the window.

  “There may be others. I don’t know what Bethany has. These are just the ones I know about.”

  I glanced up, wondering if I could really do this. Invade her privacy like this.

  “You need to see,” she said, not turning back.

  When I pulled out the first of three pictures, I was glad she’d given me a moment. Rage and bile rose fast. I wasn’t prepared for it. Not just because Abbi was in the photos but because no one should ever have to face this.

  Abbi was naked, clearly passed out, on a bed. Surrounding her was a group of men, all dressed.

  The next picture was worse. Two of them men had their hands on her breasts. In the third, they’d spread her limbs open so she had no secrets from anyone or the camera.

  My concerns reared up as I shoved the pictures back into the envelope. Much as I wanted to burn them and what they represented, they were her best defense to prove she hadn’t been a willing participant. I don’t remember.

  No wonder she hadn’t fought back. This wasn’t a simple case of cyber bullying. Those pictures showed intent. Criminal fucking intent.

  “Did they rape you?”

  She didn’t turn around. “I don’t know.”

  “How can you not know?” I demanded.

  She looked so small and lost. My heart seemed to tear apart as I watched her gather her emotions and pride. Not that she’d done anything to be ashamed of, but the men in the pictures sure did.

  I’d have to figure out some way to deal with them. Right now, though, I was worried about Abbi. She needed a friend, and I’d promised to be that for her. Even if it killed me, she’d have someone to trust. To lean on. Eventually, I’d tell her that her past didn’t change how I saw her.

  Except it did. Because the people responsible for those pictures, for putting her in that situation, had taken a chunk of her she’d never offered.

  “Not enough apparently. I woke up on a bed. Naked. I had vomit in my hair and it was all over the bed.”

  “And you don’t remember any of that?”

  “I remember Steve being there. He woke me, actually.”

  I tensed, struggling to keep my grip from being too firm. “And what did he want?”

  “He wanted to get me out of the house. I was in his room. I could barely function. He helped me dress. Not because I wanted him to, but because I couldn’t do it myself.”

  She bit her lip and then ducked her head. I ran my hand over her hair like I used to with Cassie when she was feeling the effects of her chemo.

  “Did he say anything else?” I asked through gnashed teeth.

  “He said he hadn’t meant for it to go so far, that there were too many of them and he couldn’t stop it. That it was good I’d gotten so sick, that it grossed the guys out. He said I had to leave. The first round of pictures appeared later that day.”

  “He shoved you out of the house?” I couldn’t keep the censure from my voice. The guy was a complete ass.

  “He offered to walk me home. He’d offered me a change of clothes, but all I could process was the fact I was naked and it was, like, four in the morning. I just wanted to get away. To think.”

  “Did he try to talk to you about it again?”

  She tucked tighter into herself. “Once. He sent a text. Said there were more pictures and we should meet.”

  “But he didn’t offer to help? Or tell you what had happened.”

  Abbi shook her head. “I blocked his number. I didn’t want to talk to him.” She glanced up, her eyes worried, searching. “I kept the
text. In case I needed it. I probably should give it to my aunt.”

  I squeezed her a little. “Not a bad idea. You haven’t had any memories surface?”

  “Nothing. My head hurt for the next couple days, and I had a hard time eating. We did a date rape lecture as part of our orientation. My symptoms were like GHB. It’s a clear liquid that anyone could’ve poured into my drink.”

  “And you never told anyone?”

  She pulled out of my arms, her frown fierce.

  “What was I going to say? I was drugged, fucked, and left to choke on my own vomit? But I don’t remember any of it? That I can’t point to the people who did it? That my ex kicked me out of the frat house in the middle of the night?”

  “I get that those pictures paint a terrible picture, but why didn’t you say anything?” I asked, my voice soft.

  “Mom was finishing a book.”

  At my look of disbelief, tears filled her eyes.

  “She was so happy. This is the first time she’s been happy in years. My dad . . . he didn’t make her life easy. She doesn’t talk about it, but all I remember is her being sad. I don’t want to send her back there, to that place.”

  “She wouldn’t want you shouldering this alone.”

  “I know she’s worried about me. I didn’t want to add to that. Plus, the media was all over me with just those ‘walk of shame’ pictures. I mean all over. Sixty phone messages in an hour. Hundreds of emails. I couldn’t walk outside without flashes from cameras. Can you imagine what it would’ve been like if I said I was date raped? My word against who knows how many people ready to stand with Steve?”

  “You don’t know that. You can’t just let them get away with that, Abbi.”

  “I know. I’d been planning how to deal with this. I just needed a little more time. But your sister’s speech made me think. What if I don’t have the time? What if this is my last day? Then I want it on record what Steve did.” She nodded toward the folder. “Those are his band mates. I want them to know they can’t get away with that.”