I was itching to ask Ray if I could borrow one of his guns and kill the fucker. The only reason I didn’t was Sam. He wants to find as much evidence as he can to put Wes away for a long time. I have to agree. Killing the fucker would be too easy, and a guy like Wes needs to rot in some hellhole for the rest of his life. But first, I need to stop Emily from meeting him tonight.
Sam, Carter, and I are waiting on Zach one block from the hotel where Emily is shortly due to meet Wes. The plan is to confront him before Emily arrives. We have one hour before the big meet, and it needs to go smoothly.
I enlisted Carter because he’s got the muscle, and I trust him. He was on board the minute I told him I wanted to screw over Weston Blakely. He didn’t ask what it was about, and I didn’t offer more than the bare minimum. Emily is clearly terrified of her parents finding out about her lifestyle, and it’s not my secret to share.
I brought Zach into the fold since he’s Emily’s friend and he’s already tried to defend her from Wes, so I figured he’d want to help. As much as I want to beat the ever-loving shit out of him for fucking the girl I’m into, I’ve shelved my personal feelings. There is safety in numbers, and we need him.
It’s as simple as that.
But after tonight, I’m not selling to him anymore. I can’t have him feeding Emily’s habit, and I want to be a true friend to her and help her kick the habit before she ends up in a dark place she can’t come back from.
He’ll be pissed, but I don’t give a fuck.
Ray will be too. Again, I don’t give a fuck.
After this is all over, I need to quit the drug-dealing business. I can’t ask Emily to stop taking the shit when I’m selling Molly to Zach who feeds it to her. I know they can find drugs elsewhere, but it won’t be from me.
And I’m determined to do everything I can to help Emily clean up her act.
“How many times did you call Emily?” I ask Sam as I scan the busy street of people window-shopping in a touristy part of the city.
“I left her several messages to call you or me,” Sam says.
My cell was off during the game, but I’d checked it the second I hit the locker room, disappointed there was no missed call from her. She’s avoiding me, and that makes me uneasy.
The game was a complete blowout. We lost big.
I played like shit. I got sacked three times because I hesitated, which is unlike me. I had two interceptions. If the Bears were watching, I’m sure they aren’t interested in signing me anymore.
I couldn’t look Coach Parker in the eye when he yelled his head off at me after the game. I apologized, but he didn’t want to hear it. If he knew where my mind was at, he’d probably be hugging the shit out of me and giving me a fucking medal.
But after Emily told me about her parents believing Wes more than her with that incident at the fundraiser, I didn’t see a point in telling Coach. Anyway, I can’t. Not unless I want to lose her from my life permanently.
My pulse is on overdrive as I keep checking the time. “Where the fuck is Zach?”
Carter slaps me on the arm and flicks his head at the traffic light at the corner.
I spot Zach strutting up, hands in his pockets, hair styled perfectly, clothes neatly pressed as if he’s headed to one of the many clubs in the city. “Did you get ahold of Emily? Because I didn’t.”
Instead of answering him, I ram my fist into his nose. Can’t help it. Just looking at his face sets me off, knowing what I know. “What the fuck, man?” He holds his nose as blood oozes out.
“Hoss,” Carter warns. “Save it for that asshole.”
“This is a bad idea,” Sam mutters, regarding me with concern.
I rub my stinging knuckles, leveling Zach with a glare. “That’s for not looking out for Emily.” Zach wasn’t aware of the video, until we spoke over the phone, and I filled him in. Although, he did know Wes was blackmailing her, courtesy of Scarlett. Zach shared news of Wes’s past. Something which made me almost hurl up my lunch. Wes is far more evil than I’ve given him credit for. I shudder to think what would’ve happened to Emily if Sam hadn’t discovered that email, and hadn’t uncovered the evidence proving how much of a lowlife Blakely is.
“I’m doing my fucking best,” Zach snaps. “And I’m here, aren’t I?”
I want to confront him about the things I know, but this isn’t the time or the place. I walk a few paces to blow off some steam. “Did you go by her house?” I ask Zach.
He looks at me like I have five heads. “Her mother hates me, and I’m not supposed to be around Emily. Even if I did, her mother wouldn’t let me see her.”
We don’t need to draw suspicion anyway.
Sam waves his iPad at me. “Let’s go. I need to hack into the hotel’s system if we want to find out what room he’s in. Our luck, Wes is already there.”
Sam tried hacking into Wes’s phone to track him, but he couldn’t access it, so this is our Plan B.
The lobby of the hotel is bright, busy, and loud. A bar sits off to one side. The concierge desk and check-in counter are on the other. People are coming in and out, going about their usual business.
Sam locates a suitable spot near the business center while the three of us linger near the bar.
“I can’t wait to see Wes’s face when he finds us in his room,” Zach says, grinning.
That’s one thing we agree on.
Carter leans against a pillar. “And if he walks in now?”
“Then we approach him.” I say. “He won’t make a scene.” He’s the type of guy who worries about his reputation. That’s why, when we’re done with him, the only reputation he’ll have is being someone’s bitch in prison. Prisoners don’t like rapists. A truth Wes will learn quickly.
Carter grins. “Fuck yeah. I’m ready to put the hurt on the asshole.”
Zach looks pensive, but I don’t get a chance to ask what he’s thinking when Sam rushes over.
“Got it. But bad news. He checked in an hour ago.”
“What the fuck?” I pull on my hair, immediately racing to the elevators with the guys on my heels.
“Room six zero five,” Sam blurts.
I stab the button for the elevator. “Sam, stay in the lobby.”
He arches a brow. “Sorry, man. I might not be buff like you three, but I can help.”
I don’t have time to argue when the elevator doors open, and we all rush in.
I’m primed to explode. Terrified of finding Emily in that room in a vulnerable position. If he’s laid one finger on her, he’s a dead man. I’m fidgeting, bouncing on my heels, cracking my knuckles, and virtually swinging off the walls as the elevator ride seems like a slow boat to China.
As soon as the doors open, I’m sprinting down the long corridor, dodging a man coming out of room, almost tripping.
When I reach the room, I turn the handle, but it’s locked.
I pound on the door. “Maintenance.” I shout.
The heavy beat of music thumps inside, and bile swims up my throat.
I motion to Carter to get on the other side of the door. Sam and Zach hang back by Carter. I don’t want Wes looking through the peephole and spotting us.
I bang again. “Maintenance. If you don’t open up, I’m coming in.” Mom explained to me once that maintenance has a right to walk in after announcing themselves.
I wait a beat, praying like a motherfucker it’s not too late, but my gut is spinning like an F-5 tornado.
No movement.
I jiggle the handle as Carter beats his fist on the door. “Maintenance!”
Fear drips off Sam, and Zach has a look I can’t quite figure out.
The handle moves, the door opens a crack, and I barrel in like I’m the linebacker and not the quarterback. The guy falls back on his ass, and I freeze as my eyes quickly search the room.
Sex toys litter a coffee table, surrounded by empty beer bottles and lines of coke. Four big guys are lounging on the couch. Most of them are stripped to their boxers, making the i
ntent clear. A camera is set up in the corner, trained on the spot where Emily is semi-naked on the floor with Wes’s hand around her throat.
The need to puke is strong, but the need to draw blood is even stronger. I’m seeing stars as fury propels me into action. I emit a loud roar as I race toward Wes. He scrambles off Emily, trying to cover his dick.
She coughs repeatedly, and a strangled sound rips from her throat. Judging by the way her eyes are rolling back in her head, and the drug paraphernalia in the room, I’m guessing they doped her up to make her more compliant so it looked consensual if anyone ever found the tape.
Rage pummels my insides from all angles, and I launch myself at Wes, throwing him flat on his back before he can get away. I straddle him, ramming my fist into his face.
“Sam,” I shout, looking up briefly. “Find Emily’s clothes.”
The other guys in the room start throwing punches at Zach and Carter, but they’re stoned and drunk and no match for the guys who are lashing out in anger, same way I am.
Intense pain shuttles through my skull, and I yell out, clutching the side of my head as Wes shoves me off him. He drops the vase he used to hit me, backing up toward the sliding door that’s open to the street below. His jaw is tight, and he’s holding his nuts as if I’m going to cut them off.
Not a bad idea.
I climb to my feet, pain forgotten, and stalk toward him with my fists clenched and teeth bared. “You’ll pay for this, motherfucker.”
He chooses that moment to grin like he won this battle.
No, fucker. You’re about to splatter to the sidewalk six stories below.
The sound of engines trickle by as Wes keeps inching backward.
“You’re not going to hurt me,” he says, shaking his head, displaying his usual level of smug arrogance. “You don’t want to go to jail.” He stumbles as his bare feet catch on the sliding door rail.
I push him into the railing.
He lets go of his nut sack, grabbing onto the iron rail. He sticks out his chin, defying me, daring me to try to throw him over.
My brain is clear as the night sky, and I debate whether to hang him over the railing by his now limp dick. Maybe that will scare him into not gang-raping a woman.
He grins, sending me over the edge.
My fists are flying and connecting with his nose, his jaw, and the side of his head.
He laughs. The fucker laughs. Even as blood sprays from his nose and trickles from a cut in his lip.
I zone out, consumed with black rage as I go at him, uncaring whether he lives or dies. This piece of shit doesn’t deserve to live. I’m pounding my fists into his face and upper torso like I’m working out with the punching bag in the gym.
His head flies right then left. Bones crack. Blood splatters.
I’m so into my zone that I don’t hear Sam’s voice until he touches my back, grabbing hold of my shirt and yanking me back.
“Adam, enough. Emily is safe now.”
I stop mid-punch, glaring at Wes’s bloody face. “Touch her, go near her, call her, or even say her name, and I get wind of it, and you’re fucking dead.” I nod to his groin. “I’ll cut off your small dick and force-feed it to your buddies.”
I release a breath, letting Sam drag me back inside the room, as Blakely slumps to the floor of the balcony, groaning and hugging his ribs. Emily’s cries reach my ears the instant the screaming dies down in my head. I rush out into the hallway, dropping to my knees in front of her. Her legs are pulled into her chest as she sobs, and the sound is breaking my heart.
I lift her in my arms. “Shhh. I got you, baby. No one will hurt you again.”
I’ll kill anyone who dares to.
12
Emily
“Where are we?” I ask Adam, as he lays me down gently on a large, black leather couch after I’ve showered and freshened up in some stranger’s bathroom. All I know is we’re in someone’s apartment, off campus.
“This is my buddy Carter’s place,” he confirms, kneeling in front of me. “His roomie went home for the weekend, and Carter is staying with his girl. He said we can stay as long as we like.”
I touch my fingers to the large Band-Aid covering his left temple as a fresh bout of shivers whips through my body. I haven’t stopped shaking since we left the hotel, tortured over thoughts of what would’ve happened if the guys hadn’t shown up to rescue me. “Does it hurt?” I whisper.
“Nope.” He grasps my wrist gently while shaking his head. “I have a hard head and it’s only a few surface scratches.” He smiles, and his entire face lights up in a way that does funny things to my insides. “I’ll live.”
“You can come sleep at my place,” Zach blurts, pushing off the doorway. I don’t miss the scowl he directs at Adam.
I turn onto my side, sliding my hands under my head. “I can’t. I’m still banned from seeing you.”
“I don’t like you with him.” He spits out the word, sending daggers at Adam.
“It’s my choice, and I’m not going anywhere.” I need to talk to Adam. To find out how they knew where I was. And I need to think. And time to process all that’s happened tonight. I might look like I’ve got my shit together, but the truth is, I’m barely holding on. Another shiver tiptoes up my spine, and I swallow back bile. I was almost gang-raped tonight. My stomach lurches violently, and I move my palm to my tummy, rubbing gently as if that will make the awful churning go away.
I spent a half hour at their mercy, and even though I was drugged, it felt like a hell of a lot longer. I clamp my lips shut, forcing the panic bubbling up my throat to recede. Humiliation and shame compete with anger and frustration inside me as I remember how they toyed with me.
“Are you sure, babe?” Zach kneels beside Adam, reaching out and taking my hand. “He doesn’t know you like I do. I can take care of you. We can check into a hotel.”
“Because she really wants to go back to a hotel,” Adam sneers, doing little to hide his contempt for Zach.
“What the fuck is your problem with me?” Zach demands to know.
Adam’s nostrils flare. “The list is too long to get into right now.” He whips his head around to mine, gently cupping my face. “My priority is looking after Emily.”
Zach scoffs, but I tune him out, focusing on the tender way Adam is looking at me. His touch is soft and soothing, the complete opposite of the rough way Wes and his friends manhandled me earlier.
I squeeze my eyes shut, in a feeble attempt to ward off the images replaying in my mind, and an errant sobs flies from my mouth. I quake all over, and I’m so cold. I wrap my arms around myself, tucking my knees into my chest.
Adam climbs onto the couch, hauling me into his arms, as a fresh bout of tears takes hold of me. I cling to his shirt, siphoning his warmth and his comfort, needing it to remind me not every guy is a monster. The dam breaks, as restrained terror breaks free, and I fall apart in his arms. If Wes and his crew had had their way tonight, I would be broken beyond repair. What the fuck was I thinking going over there? A fresh layer of shame sweeps over me, and I’ve never felt more weak or more stupid.
When I finally stop sobbing, I look up, realizing we’re alone. “Where did Sam and Zach go to?”
“They left to give you privacy, but I can call them back if you like.”
I shake my head, sniffling. “I’m not in the mood for company.”
“I’m not leaving you alone, but I can go in the other room if you want privacy.” He rubs a hand through my hair, and it’s amazingly comforting.
“Don’t go,” I whisper, fisting a hand in his damp shirt. It’s soaked from my tears. I peer up at him. “Thank you for rescuing me.”
His jaw tenses. “I’m sorry we got there late. We thought we were early.”
“He brought the time forward because he had a date with Cassandra later tonight,” I say through gritted teeth as my fear transforms to anger.
He brushes his thumbs under my eyes. “You want to talk about it?” he quietly
asks.
“Not really.” I gulp over the messy ball of emotion lodged in my throat.
“They didn’t… Did he…” His body is balling into a knot as he tries to get the words out.
“They didn’t rape me.” A shudder works its way through me again, and he wraps his strong arms more firmly around me. “They hadn’t gotten that far, but they cut my bra off with a knife and took turns groping me,” I admit in a shaky voice. “They enjoyed humiliating me, poking fun at my body, and taunting me with all the ways they were going to fuck me.” Tears prick my eyes again, and my lower lip wobbles. “If you hadn’t arrived when you did…”
He pushes the air out of his lungs. “We didn’t arrive soon enough,” he says, and I can tell he’s working hard to keep a level tone. “And now I’m regretting not throwing that fucker off the balcony. That animal doesn’t deserve to live.”
I don’t disclose that Wes rubbed coke on his fingers before shoving them inside me. He wanted me docile but not too high that I didn’t know what was happening, but he underestimates how often I use, and the dose he gave me wasn’t near enough to get me out of my head.
Pain slices through me, ripping my insides into shreds, and I cry out before darkness swoops in to claim me.
“Em?” Are you okay?” Adam’s voice worms its way through my subconscious. “What just happened?”
“Nothing. I’m okay.” I offer him a weak smile.
“You’re not okay.” His eyes penetrate mine. “But you will be.” Electricity crackles in the air as we stare at one another. His expression is a mix of concern and desire, and it’s doing funny things to my insides. Which is weird. Because after what happened this evening, sex should be the last thing on my mind.
“How did you know where I was?” I ask, needing to understand how much he knows.
His tongue snakes out to wet his lips, and I greedily follow the motion. “Please don’t be mad.”
I narrow my eyes to slits. “That’s not terribly reassuring.”
“I knew there was more to this Wes shit, and I was worried. I convinced Sam to do some digging.” He lowers his voice. “He found the email and the video.”
Holding on to Forever Page 12