15
Adam
My eyes are heavy as I walk into my dorm room. Practice was hell. Coach ran us through the wringer in preparation for our big game coming up. But I don’t have time to sleep. I have a Western civilization test tomorrow, and I still have a couple of deals I need to take care of later tonight.
Sam spins around in his computer chair. Dark circles color the underside of his blue eyes, and his blond hair is matted to his head. Poor guy has been behind his computer since Saturday night, trying to drum up more dirt on Wes and find the chick in the video. He’s tracking all incoming and outgoing emails to and from the frat house, hoping he catches something. He’s distraught and determined to get the goods on Wes, especially after watching him and his crew gang-raping that girl.
I couldn’t blame him. The video made me want to go ballistic on Wes or someone or something. Regardless, we’re at a standstill at the moment. Sam has been trying to locate an address for the girl in the video. Even then, we’re not sure she’ll want to cooperate. But it’s our only play unless Wes fucks up again, and I don’t see that happening now he knows we’re onto him. He’ll be looking over his shoulder every minute of the day.
“Well, you look like crap,” Sam says.
I arch a brow. “Right back atcha. Anything yet on the girl?”
He runs his long fingers through his hair. “Nothing. I wish I had access to face recognition software.” He lets out a frustrated sigh. “I really want to take down Wes. It’s been eating at me.”
I throw my bag on my bed. “A bullet will take care of him.”
Sam’s mouth falls open. “For real, Adam. Prison will be hell on a rich bastard like him. To me, that’s worse than a bullet.”
I drop down on my bed, rubbing my temples. “Man, you’re right.”
He kicks out his legs. “Have you heard from Emily?”
I climb on my bed, resting my back against the wall, sleep a minute away. “With classes and practice, I haven’t had time to check in with her today. I’m sure if Wes tried to contact her, she would let us know.” And if she was jonesing to get high, she would reach out to me too although a part of me isn’t so sure. It’s hard to kick a vice cold turkey, especially ones like alcohol and drugs. Still, I’m hopeful she would keep to our agreement and come to me if she feels the urge to get high.
“Do you think Wes will out you to Coach?” Sam asks. “I mean, have you thought about that?”
Wes can do many things to me, but Coach would be the last person he would go to since Coach is Emily’s old man. “I can see him going to President Parker but not Coach. He would demand evidence, and Wes has none.” Coach Parker isn’t the type to believe everything he hears. I couldn’t say for sure about President Parker though, but Emily did say he can do no wrong in her mother’s eyes.
“Let’s talk about President Parker,” Sam’s eyes shift back and forth as he thinks. “If Wes goes to her, she could do more damage to you than Coach.”
I shake my head. “Coach won’t let that happen. Look, man.” I pound a fist to my chest. “I love ya for worrying about me. But Emily is the one we need to protect. Not me.” Sure, I’m not going to lie. I don’t want to get kicked off the team or lose my scholarship or even get thrown out of school. And if I had to choose, I would give up football only because I could do more with a college degree. The NFL is a fucking dream and it’s still in my sights, but so many things have changed in such a short time that I need to be realistic about where I’m headed.
He pops forward, elbow on his knees. “Admirable, dude, and I want to protect her too, but someone needs to watch your back too.”
Suddenly, I feel like someone is driving a knife into my gut as guilt swirls into a violent storm inside me. I should fess up, right now, about selling drugs. The longer I wait, the harder it will be to tell him. He’ll be devastated, but he needs to know.
A knock sounds on the door, and I breathe a sigh of relief for the interruption.
I’m such a coward.
Sam answers the door, and the moment I lay eyes on Emily, I fly off the bed.
Her face is pale and her blue eyes are brimming with fear.
“What’s wrong? What happened? Did Wes confront you?” My pulse quickens. I’ll kill the bastard this time. Fuck sending him to prison.
Automatically, I pull her to me, and the minute her body is flush with mine, I let out a contented sigh.
Sam clears his throat. “What’s wrong, Emily?”
She buries her face in my chest as her arms wind around my waist.
Fuck, if this isn’t what I needed—to feel her against me, to breathe in her scent, and to know she came to me with whatever has her freaked out. Progress.
My heart settles as I kiss her head. “Talk to me.”
She pulls away and sits on my bed. “Wes came to my house. He’s not backing down.” Her tone cracks. “I can’t do this. I need...” Her hands begin to shake violently.
I ease down next to her, taking her hands in mine. “You’re safe, baby.”
She moves her head back and forth. “Adam, I need.” She peeks at Sam through her lashes.
I kiss her hands. “You don’t need that.”
I’m sure Sam is putting the pieces together that Emily needs to get high.
So, to distract her, I say, “Tell us what happened.”
Sam returns to his chair.
Withdrawing her hands from mine, she picks at the hem of her shorts. It’s only then I take in her long, tanned legs and pink painted toenails. Phoebe would love to have her toes painted pink.
A vision of Emily painting my sister’s nails pops into my head out of nowhere, scaring the shit out of me.
Because I like the visual a hell of a lot.
And that thought frightens me as much as it excites me.
“Wes told my parents some football players jumped him. He’s going to make sure you pay, Adam. He’s not letting up.” Tears coat her eyes. “He’s going to come after you.”
Pure joy floods my chest that she’s worried about me. That’s the only reason I’m not punching my fist through the window to expel my rage that the fucker had the nerve to go to Emily’s house when we clearly threatened him to stay away from her.
Sam shakes his head. “He’s just trying to scare us.”
I chuckle at my dear friend at how calm he is when I’m seriously considering putting a bullet into Wes’s skull because that seems to be the only way we can get rid of the asshole.
As if Sam knows what I’m thinking, he says, “Save the aggression for the football field.”
Emily’s tongue snakes out to lick her lips.
Woman, do that again, and I’ll have you splayed out on my bed regardless if Sam’s in the room or not.
My dick is in agreement too as blood pools in my groin. Now, instead of coming up with our next move or trying to clear the anger away, I’m conjuring up images of when I had Emily under me in Carter’s bed. She felt fucking amazing as I licked my way down her neck, tits, and stomach. Fuck. I can still hear her seductive moans.
“Adam,” Sam barks. “Did you hear a word I said?”
I blink and find Emily and Sam with eyes wide and heads angled.
“Where did you go?” Emily asks so sweetly and softly.
I notice then she isn’t trembling anymore. Instead, she appears concerned for me. Warmth spreads through my chest, and the need to kiss her is strong, but this isn’t the time or place.
I blink. “Sorry, I was thinking.” Of you and me naked. “What were you saying, Sam?”
“That maybe Emily knows the girl in the video,” he says.
I round my gaze to the gorgeous woman on my bed. “Are you sure you want to see it?” I watched it last night, and Sam and I were both disgusted at what we saw. Although if she sees the video, it might make her realize how close she came to being seriously hurt, and that might make her think twice before she pops the next pill.
She nods. “If it helps, yeah. We need to fi
nd that girl… To see if she’ll press charges now we have proof of what they did to her.”
Emily is right. We’ve got nothing except empty threats. Wes has nothing too. He can go to Coach all he wants, but he can’t prove a thing. Sam has the camera that was in the hotel room. So, all the evidence of what went down that night is in our hands. He can’t turn me in without incriminating himself. If he’d found a way, the police would’ve already showed up at my door.
Sam swivels in his chair, tapping a few keys on his computer. “I’m watching all the frat house’s email traffic and Wes’s text messages, but things on his end have been quiet since we sent him the threat.”
Emily and I stand behind Sam. While he’s pulling up the video, I grab Emily’s hand.
She flashes her big blues at me, and I swear I just fell one step closer in love. But the moment is severed when Wes’s voice blares out of the speakers.
Emily abandons my hand, her jaw locks up, and she grips the back of Sam’s chair, her knuckles white as fresh fallen snow.
The video shows a similar scene to the one Emily played a part in the other night. Wes’s crew sits back and watches while Wes straddles the girl who appears to be drugged with no fight in her to protect herself.
Sick fucking bastard!
Emily clamps a hand over her mouth, tears ready to spill.
I drape an arm over her. “Sam, cut the video. She’s seen enough.”
Emily turns into me, devastation evident on her pretty face. “Oh my God! That could’ve been me.” Her voice trembles. “I want to kill him.”
No truer feeling has been felt. I tug her to me. “He’ll pay.”
Without turning around, Sam asks, “Do you recognize her?”
“No,” Emily says.
A ping resonates on Sam’s computer.
“Oh, what’s this?” Sam says to no one. He flicks a key, then another, and an email pops up on the screen.
The email is addressed to a Kim Roberts. It’s sent from a generic email address with no identifying components.
Silence fills the room as the three of us read the two sentences. Remember our deal. If you talk, you’re dead.
“Who sent that?” Emily asks, frowning.
I shrug, waiting on Sam to confirm.
He slides out of his chair and stands, stretching his arms above his head. “Wes sent it from an anonymous profile.”
My brows lift. “How do you know?”
“Same IP address he uses at his frat house.”
“But anyone at the frat house could’ve sent that email,” I say.
Sam bites his lip. “True. But come on. Wes goes to Emily’s parents, trying to what? Feel her out to see if—”
“He could break me,” Emily finishes Sam’s sentence. “Since he couldn’t. He’s scared. So, he needs to cover his bases.”
“And even if this sender is one of his cronies,” Sam adds, “all of them just implicated themselves.” He waggles his brows. “I think Kim Roberts could be our mystery girl.”
“We need to talk to her as soon as possible,” I say. “Wes is a nasty, unpredictable prick, and who knows what he’s capable of. I don’t want Wes to keep terrorizing Emily or any other girl.”
All the stress melts off Sam. “I’ll have her address in a flash.” He jumps back in his chair, fingers flying over the keyboard.
Emily beams, and it’s the first time I’ve seen such a radiant smile on her face. In that moment, I just fell in love with her.
“We should talk to her tonight,” Emily says, holding her bottom lip hostage.
Man, I would give anything to be that lip.
The tick, tick, tick of the keys is the only sound in the room as Emily and I lock eyes. Electricity crackles in the air, and I pray she’s feeling this thing between us too. I hold her tighter, and there are so many things I want to do to her. So many positions I’m desperate to try with her.
My gaze drifts to her lips, the bottom one sticking out a little farther than the top. The urge to kiss her is so fucking strong. If I do though, we’ll be naked in next to no time. So, I rub my thumb over her soft lips, and an inferno zips straight to my balls. I’m thinking about how she tastes, when she captures my thumb in her mouth.
I suck in a sharp breath.
“You two okay?” Sam asks, typing away and not looking up.
“Yep.” Reluctantly, I step back as Emily gives me a ball-busting smile.
“Tease,” I mouth to her.
She gives me another flirty look as Sam spins around.
“Good news is, Kim was a student here, and that email addy is bogus. She must’ve changed it. So, she won’t see Wes’s email. I also found a picture of her in student records, and that girl in the video is definitely her. Bad news is, she lives in Charlotte, North Carolina.”
Emily’s smile gets even bigger. “Road trip.” She says it like she’s never been out of this town before. Of course, I know she’s excited to see if Kim Roberts will take down Weston Blakely.
Hell, I’m stoked too, but my schedule sucks, and I can’t drive three hours and back this week.
As if Emily can see the war going on in my head. “Football. Right. You have a game too on Saturday.”
I nod.
“Let’s go after your game. I need to get out of this town even for a night,” she admits.
How could I say no to her? Not only that, I’m already thinking of her and me alone for a couple of days.
Hell yeah!
16
Emily
“I love your truck,” I say, glancing around the old beat-up Chevy pickup. It’s late Saturday night as we head out on the road to Charlotte. I thought Adam might’ve changed his mind after their amazing win today. I wouldn’t have held it against him if he’d wanted to stay to party with his teammates, but he was resolute that we go ahead with our plans.
And I fell a little more in love with him for it.
“It’s not much, but I love old Bertha.” Adam lovingly pats the dash, and my grin grows. “Took me years to save for her. Although she’s old, she’s never let me down.”
“Why Bertha?”
“The old dude who sold her to me made me promise I’d continue to call her by the name he’d christened her.”
I roll my eyes even though I love the story. “Men and their trucks.”
“You want to listen to the radio?” he asks, his fingers reaching for the old-fashioned stereo.
I shake my head. “I’d rather talk. We haven’t had much time to get to know one another.” I bite down on my lip as I glance at him. “And I’d like to know you better.” Butterflies scatter in my chest, reminding me I haven’t been this excited about anything in ages.
“In the biblical sense?” he throws out, a grin spreading across his mouth.
I slap his arm. “You know what I mean.”
“I’m only teasing. What do you want to know?”
“Have you always wanted to play football?” I angle my body so I’m looking at his beautiful profile. There’s a thin layer of scruff on his chin and cheeks that I’m itching to touch.
“From the time I was little.” He drums his fingers off the steering wheel. “Mom jokes I came out of the womb with a ball in my hand.”
“I can tell you’re close to your mom and your sister. But what about your dad?” I tentatively inquire.
“He’s not on the scene anymore. Abandoned us when I was ten.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.” A muscle clenches in his jaw. “He was a worthless piece of shit, and we’re better off without him.”
“Some people aren’t suited to parenthood,” I truthfully admit, tucking my hair behind my ears.
He glances at me briefly. “It sounds like you’re speaking from personal experience.”
I shrug. “Mom admitted as much to me when I was a little girl. She never wanted me, and it shows.” I’m usually guarded around people, and I would never admit that to just anyone, but I feel myself around Adam. Like
I could share anything with him, and I just know he’d keep my confidence.
Or perhaps it’s because we both have secrets we’re guarding for one another that leads me to trust him when I don’t trust most others.
“She said that to you?” Disbelief drips from his tone.
“Yes. And she continually points out all the ways in which I’m a failure and an embarrassment.”
“That is so wrong. I’m sorry you have to deal with that.”
“It’s all I’ve ever known,” I admit, tugging on a loose thread at the end of my blouse. “She’s never been much of a mother to me. Her career is her real baby, and I’m an inconvenience. She has never been there for me. Especially when I’ve needed her the most.” Tears prick my eyes, and a tightness spreads across my chest as my mind meanders into the past.
“Did something happen?” His voice is low, his face etched with concern as he looks across at me.
I gulp over the sudden lump in my throat. “It’s not really something I like talking about,” I whisper. I haven’t told anyone about what went down that night, and I’ve successfully banished all thoughts of it from my mind. Lately, though, with everything that’s happened, the memory has been trying to resurface. But I refuse to go there, instantly shutting that shit down anytime a thought rears its ugly head.
“If you ever change your mind, I’m here for you.” He reaches across the console, squeezing my thigh.
“You really mean that.” It’s not a question, because I already see the truth in his eyes.
“I do.” He removes his hand, replacing it on the wheel. “I’m sensing you haven’t had many people in your corner, Emily, and I want you to know I’m firmly on your side.”
“Why?” I’m genuinely curious. “Why would a guy like you want anything to do with a girl like me?”
He arches a brow. “A guy like me?”
“You’re a star athlete and all-round good guy. Why would you want to get mixed up with me?”
Holding on to Forever Page 15