by Eva Ashwood
“What are we going to do?” Reese asks.
Trent shakes his head, finally cutting off the video. “I have no idea.”
That’s literally the first time Trent has admitted to not having an idea. He’s always the guy with a plan—and now, he’s blank.
A little crowd of students passes us, laughing and nudging each other, and they hand us a flyer, busting up even harder as they walk away. On the flyer, there’s a picture of Trent’s face, twisted in pleasure. It’s a still shot from the video.
“Jesus. I can’t look at this shit anymore.” Reese scrubs a hand over his face.
“Wait, hold on.”
I crumple the paper up in my hand and follow after the students. I don’t grab their leader and beat the shit out of him like I want to. But I do find out where they got the flyer. Dozens more of them are posted on the pillars that line the front of the building, and on trees and street lamps. They don’t each have the same photo, but different photos of Trent caught in the act. Looking off into the distance, I can see other people handing them out.
I return to where Reese and Trent are still standing by the entrance to the building, shaking my head. “This gets more fucked up by the minute.”
Trent has gone silent, like he’s totally lost the ability to speak.
“Oh, shit.” Reese curses, looking down at his phone.
“What now?”
“She’s posted the photos on social media. It’s on Insta and Facebook.”
“Not the video?”
“She can’t post the video. It would be taken down in a second.”
Before I can point out that I’m not sure that would stop Emma at this point, Trent moves. He bursts into action so fast it’s like a bomb exploding, and when he starts striding across campus with murder in his eyes, I know exactly where he’s headed.
Emma’s dorm.
26
Emma
Ever since everything went down, I feel a mix of satisfaction and dread.
I know I got Trent big time. I nailed him, and now, I’m just waiting for the other shoe to fall. I was amazed Leslie was able to access the student portal like that. She has some mad hacking skills, and I was able to plaster that shit all over the internet.
It was Leslie’s idea to do the flyers. She’s got a vicious streak that’s a little scary, but I was only too happy to have her help on this.
We stayed up all night printing the flyers, heading out onto campus while it was still dark out to tape them up everywhere. Leslie had to leave to go back to her parents’ house for the weekend, and I think she was honestly a little sad to miss seeing the fallout. But it’s for the best. I feel bad enough for roping her into this. I don’t want her to get in trouble for helping me when this whole thing was my idea.
Exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster of the past twenty-four hours and the lack of sleep, I pass out on my bed around eight a.m., unable to keep my eyes open for a minute longer.
And goddammit, I have a dream about Trent.
He and I are on vacation with our parents in Hawaii, and one night, he comes into my room and locks the door behind him. I can barely make him out in the darkness, and he doesn’t say a word, but I know it’s him. He comes over to the bed, and when I open my eyes, he puts a hand over my mouth so I won’t scream.
But I wouldn’t scream anyway. Because in my fucked up dreams, I still want him.
He’s enraged for what I did at school, and he doesn’t ask any questions before taking out his lust and anger on my body, just like he did against my dorm room door that night. I don’t tell him to stop. In fact, I welcome it. His body is so much bigger than mine, his presence forceful and dominating, and I lose myself entirely in the need coursing through me. We have fierce, almost violent sex that makes my entire body shake with pleasure.
I’m on the verge of a toe-curling orgasm when a loud banging sound yanks me from sleep.
I jerk awake, panting from shock and disorientation and frustrated arousal. My panties are slick, and my clit is throbbing. I was about to come—in my dream and in reality.
“Jesus,” I mutter in disgust, running a hand through my hair.
Before I can catch my breath, someone pounds at the door again. I don’t have to be a genius to know who it is. Steeling myself, I get up and wrap my robe around me, ignoring the fact that my pussy is still aching.
That was a fucking dream, Emma. A fantasy. This is the reality. The hatred and the manipulation and the lies.
The pounding continues, and I rush to the door, hoping to open it before someone calls campus police. Swinging it open, I find Trent standing there, fury on his face. He’s flanked by West and Reese, whose faces are both set in unreadable masks.
“You are the most fucked up person I know, Emma Holloway,” Trent seethes.
It takes me a moment to focus on him, because my gaze is still stuck on West and Reese. I don’t know why, but seeing them here hurts the most.
It hits me in a flash. They’re always going to take his side. Just when I thought things were changing and there was a chance for us to be friends, maybe even more than that, Reese and West have proved there’s only one side they’ll ever be on.
Dragging my attention away from them, I glare at Trent. “I think I can say the same for you,” I reply, standing tall.
“Did you think you were going to get away with it?” he bites out
I just shrug, still holding his gaze.
It occurs to me that I have to not talk about it. There’s no way to prove I’m the one that posted that video, and if all the guys are recording this conversation right now, they can hold it against me.
Trent glares. “You thought your life was hell before this? Just wait for what happens now.”
“Is that supposed to scare me?” Fury is building up inside me, along with a deep, soul-crushing sadness. I’m exhausted, and not from staying up all night. I’m tired of this. “My life can’t become any more of a hellish nightmare than you’ve already made it, thanks.” I give a low laugh, although there’s no humor in it. “Besides, if they kick me out of school, how do you plan to get back at me? How can you ruin my life if I’m not here?”
“I’ll find a way,” Trent promises, and he has the audacity to grin. It twists his face in a way I hate.
But even as we glare at each other, my body still aches from the memory of the dream—and of what we shared in real life. When I glance back at West and Reese, the same horrible feeling of want fills me.
But that desire is dangerous at this point. If I ever make myself vulnerable to any of them again, there’s no telling what the consequences would be.
“You know, this isn’t over by a long shot,” I tell Trent, forcing a grin to my face to match his. “You do realize that we’re not nearly even yet? You may think that what happened to you is bad, but it’s nowhere near as bad as what you’ve done to me.”
“Yeah. Sure.” Trent snorts, but I see a flicker of something in his eyes.
What is it? Regret? Worry?
“And I’ve got a lot more fight in me,” I add, gripping the edge of the door so hard my knuckles hurt. “So if you think that this was bad, maybe you should bow out now before things get really ugly. You’re such a delicate flower, I’m not sure you can take it.”
With that, I slam the door in their faces and lock it.
I’m half-expecting them to beat it down and come after me right now, but they do nothing.
My heart thuds hard and heavy in my chest as I go back and sit on my bed, my entire body shaking with adrenaline. Although I won this round, the victory is nowhere near as satisfying as I hoped it would be.
My heart is broken, I’ve been kicked out of school, and my father is furious with me.
What’s more, I have to admit to myself that I’ve been falling in love with a man who has ruined my life, and with the two friends who have chosen his side over mine every single time.
I feel like crying. I feel like curling up in a ball and pra
ying for this all to be over. But I don’t. I straighten my spine and harden my resolve. Trent, West, and Reese have hurt me, they’ve betrayed my trust and bruised my heart beyond recognition.
But I am not broken.
This game isn’t over yet. I’m only getting started.
And when the battle is done and the dust settles… we’ll just see who has the last laugh.
To Be Continued…
They say revenge is a dish best served cold...
But I'd rather serve it hot, with a side of humiliation.
The Icons got what they wanted. My life is a smoldering wreck because of them.
But that doesn't mean I'm done fighting.
What I did to Trent is just the beginning. He deserves so much worse for what he's done to me.
West and Reese are no better. They told me they cared about me, but when it mattered most, they took his side over mine.
My body still craves all of them.
But my broken heart?
It just wants to take all of them down.
Who Laughs Last, book two in the Clearwater University series, is coming soon!
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Other books by Eva Ashwood
Slateview High
(dark high school bully romance)
Lost Boys
Wild Girl
Mad Love
Magic Blessed Academy
(college-age paranormal academy series)
Gift of the Gods
Secret of the Gods
Wrath of the Gods