by Mariano, Sam
That Carter can say that with a straight face amid the events currently unfolding blows my mind, but that Jake can make himself believe it is even worse. Reality has no value here, because the facts don’t cast Jake in a flattering light.
Gritting my teeth, I pray for the strength to keep my cool. Anger will turn Jake off. Everything I do has to convince him to choose my side over Carter’s, and Carter is an unexpectedly diabolical opponent.
“Tell me why he’s wrong, Zo,” Jake says, running the back of his hand along my jaw in a gesture that whispers of tenderness he still has for me. “Tell me why you don’t want me to be punished anymore.”
His mind is so easily bent, I could puke. Carter may be the literal worst, but at least he’s consistently terrible. Jake is like a loose cannon, shooting off destruction in whichever direction anyone points him.
Jake is weak. I doubt he’ll ever be strong because he is clearly too fragile to be wrong, too insecure to learn from his mistakes instead of blaming them on other people. I hate him so much, I want to set him on fire.
But I also don’t want to be raped. My problem is an astounding one: I think what Jake wants me to say is that I like him, and I don’t. I tell myself to force that lie past my lips, to tell this stupid asshole that I don’t want to get him in trouble because I have discovered a secret soft spot for him, because the thought of being the thing that tanks his future is too much. Because, hell, I want to sit in the bleachers and cheer him on every Friday night, and then give him a kiss after his big win.
Yuck.
I’m not that girl, I don’t want to be that girl, and it’s one of the reasons I rejected him in the first place. We are not right for one another. We have absolutely nothing in common—he only likes my physical appearance, and he’s mistaken in thinking that’s enough.
Regardless of my genuine disinterest in him, I know I could probably outsmart Jake Parsons and gain his protection. The problem is, it would only be a temporary fix to a long-term problem. If I lead Jake on now, he’ll pursue it later, and I’ll be right back where I started—only this time, I’ll have incited his attention.
Settling on something I can stomach, I tell him, “Because I just want all this to be over. I don’t want to fight with you. I just… I just want it over. For you and for me. Let’s put an end to the fightin’ and move on.”
“Move on to what?”
“To… gettin’ along? Not bein’ at war? You’ll get to play again, Jake. That’s what matters to you, right?”
None of that is what he wants to hear, but it’s something. It’s all I have to offer him.
I can’t see Jake so I look at Carter, hoping to read into his reaction, but Carter isn’t looking at Jake—he’s watching me. His brown eyes are narrowed in consideration and he looks like he’s trying to work something out.
In the silence of his disappointment, Jake apparently gets stuck inside his own head, twisted up in a web of delusions and imagined slights, because his next words are faintly hostile. “All right. Fine. You’ll tell everyone what a lyin’ little whore you are, and I’ll get my life back. I want an apology, too. I think I deserve an apology for all the shit you’ve put me through.”
He’s getting so tangled up in his own warped perspective, I’m not entirely sure he knows how unreasonable he’s being. “You and I both know I didn’t lie, Jake,” I murmur. “I’ll talk to Coach and bail you out anyway. Just accept your win and let it go.”
“I don’t win until you tell everyone you lied, Zoey, not just Coach. Some girls look at me like I’m a fuckin’ creep now.”
“Smart girls,” I mutter, unable to help myself.
He shifts his hold on me, pinning my arm under his and reaching across my chest so he can play with my nipples the way Carter was a minute ago. My skin crawls and I twist, trying to get away from him, but I can’t.
“Stop touching me,” I demand, my chest heaving with the strain of not exploding.
Instead, he rolls my nipple between his thumb and index finger. “Nah. I’m a creep, remember?”
“I want a taste,” Shayne says, seeing his opening to get back in on the action. “Hold onto her good, Parsons.”
“No,” I snap, before he can come closer. “My offer only stands if this shit stops right now. If it goes any further, I rescind my offer. No matter what you fucking do to me, I will never take back what I said. I will never appeal to anyone on your behalf. Never.”
Shayne looks at Jake, but Carter jumps back in now, too.
“You know what, Jake?” Carter says, meeting my gaze instead of Jake’s. His voice carries the unmistakable tone of authority, as if he has some deeper understanding of the situation than he does. “I still think she’s lying. Zoey doesn’t want you, but she doesn’t want you to have anyone else, either, so she won’t clear your name.”
“That’s legitimately insane,” I tell Carter.
Again, he ignores me. “I think if you let her walk out of this room today without enforcing any consequences, she’ll come after you even harder. I think if you let her off the hook, it will embolden her to keep doing all the shit she’s been doing to you.”
I gape at Carter, absolutely astounded. He held my gaze shamelessly while he sold every line of that bullshit, and the twisted hilarity of it all is, he’s using my logic to convince Jake to hurt me. I wanted Jake to face consequences so he would think twice before mistreating the next girl, and here Carter is painting me as the bad guy and feeding Jake’s delusion.
“You just wanna use her pussy,” Shayne says to Carter, amused.
“He might be right, though,” Jake murmurs, somehow swayed by Carter’s baseless bullshit. “I certainly didn’t think she’d run and tell on me last time, and she fuckin’ did. Why should I trust her now?”
“I don’t want to be raped,” I cry, my voice shaking with anger. It’s infuriating enough to feel, but that they’re making me say it to them is almost unbearable. “I’m not folding because I care about you; I’m folding because I don’t want to endure any more of this bullshit. Believe me, I have a healthy sense of self-preservation. What would lying get me? Out of this moment, sure, but tomorrow? The next day? Next week? Next month? You win, okay? Just get your hands off me and give me back my clothes.”
I don’t think he hears anything past my declaration of indifference—I feel it in the way his body stiffens against my back. I didn’t mean to say it, it just slipped out. It’s one thing not to say I like him; it’s another thing entirely to state in front of his friends that I don’t.
He lets go, all right—but not of his anger and resentment, not of his intense case of Nice Guy Syndrome. He lets go of me and pushes me right into Carter’s waiting arms.
“Take her,” Jake says, his tone dead. “Do whatever you want with her.”
Chapter 3
Terror claws at my insides as Carter catches me in his arms. I tried to stop myself, but momentum propelled me right into him. Now I shove against his muscular chest, struggling to get away, but he locks his left arm around my waist and keeps me trapped against him as he looks me over.
“Mm, what a thoughtful present,” Carter remarks.
“Get your hands off me, Carter,” I demand, my voice breaking with desperation.
“No,” he replies calmly, then nods at Jake. “Didn’t you hear? Parsons said I can do whatever I want to you.”
That’s a terrifying thought. My breath hitches as Carter’s amused brown eyes lock on mine, then he slowly reaches down between our bodies and unbuttons the top button of my corduroy wrap skirt.
“Please,” I say, trying to shove his hand away. “Carter, please don’t.”
Clicking at me in disapproval, Carter says, “Now, now, don’t try manipulating me, princess. I just watched you do it to him, and I’m a fast learner; it won’t work on me.”
“I wasn’t manipulatin’ anyone,” I say, the accusation making me uncomfortable.
“Mmhmm,” Carter murmurs, savoring the violation as he
unbuttons the rest of my skirt, then lets the fabric fall to the floor.
Now I’m standing here, heart pounding, stripped down to a pair of thin black panties in front of these three assholes. I’m sick. Literally sick. Bile rises and I feel myself wanting to heave, but nothing comes up.
“Stop this now,” I say, trying to grasp some kind of authority. “If you stop now, I still won’t say anything. That window is about to close, though. Y’all are taking this too far.”
“Listen to her, getting mouthy,” Carter says, caressing my jaw with his free hand.
“I didn’t even do anything to you,” I snap at him. “What’s your excuse? Why do you want to hurt me?”
“I don’t have one,” Carter says, his tone indifferent, almost bored. “I just like seeing you helpless and scared. It gets me hard. Want to feel?”
So much of that sounds like the truth, I can only stare at him, wide-eyed. “You’re a psycho.”
Flashing me a predatory smile, he says, “Maybe.”
“How ‘bout all them holes you were talking about, Mahoney? Let’s see ‘em, man,” Shayne encourages, nodding at my panties.
My heart thuds in my chest as I consider Carter stripping me of the last scrap of fabric offering me even minimal coverage. At least on this, I get a diminutive measure of relief. “Sorry, Shayne, you’re guarding the door,” Carter tells his teammate.
“What?” Shayne says, disappointed. “Man, seriously? Why do I have to do it?”
Carter ignores Shayne, as if that question is too stupid even to answer, and turns his attention to Jake. My stomach pitches, thinking he’s going to invite Jake to join in, but now that he doesn’t have to share to have me, his interest in double-teaming me seems to dissipate.
“Her pussy is mine,” Carter states, then his gaze drifts back to my face. I squirm against him, trying to pull away again, but his hold on me is too effective and it’s a waste of my energy. “I want it first. I want her innocence. I want to be the one to make her bleed.”
Carter’s chilling words even make Jake a little uncomfortable, I can see it on his face. Not uncomfortable enough to back down, though. “I should get to fuck her, too. It’s my life she ruined,” Jake complains.
“Fine, then fuck her after me. Wear a rubber.”
“You’re not going to?” Jake asks, his gaze snapping to his teammate.
“Oh, no. Her blood will be the only lube when I take her. You’ll probably have to cover her mouth while I fuck her so no one hears her scream.”
Oh, my God, he cannot be serious. As hard as I try to keep it at bay, fear paralyzes me as a vision of Carter’s scenario plays out in my mind. My body trapped beneath him, Jake covering my mouth and helping hold me down while Carter violates me.
I look at Jake to see what he’ll do, hoping against hope he’ll stand up to Carter. I know he’s been reluctant up to now, but he has to realize this is definitely too far.
Again, Jake looks uncomfortable, but for whatever reason, he nods like he’ll follow Carter’s orders. Unbelievable.
Carter looks down at me, captive in his arms. My heart is pounding violently and since he has my chest pulled against his, I bet he can feel my fear. I bet he likes it. “Want to beg me one more time, princess?”
“No,” I tell him, hating my voice for continuing to shake. “I hope it’s worth it to you, because if you do this to me, I’ll ruin your life, too.”
Carter smiles, a smile that would be overwhelmingly attractive if he weren’t such a monster. “Oh, you won’t ruin my life, Zoey. It’s fucking adorable that you think there’s even a shot in hell you could get me kicked off the team, but football’s not my end game. We both know I could shoot someone in the middle of a crowded stadium at halftime, and they’d rush to clean up the blood so I didn’t slip and fall while I finished up the game. Even if you could get me kicked off the team though, princess, it wouldn’t matter.” Reaching down and caressing my breast again, he murmurs, “Football’s just a pit stop for me, nothing more.”
“You’re 18.” My voice shakes again as I shove his hand away, but it doesn’t make my words any less true. “When I report you for rape, it’s gonna be much worse than a football suspension.”
Carter doesn’t appear to be intimidated, but he does appear to be amused. “Oh, you won’t report me, Zoey. You’re not that stupid. I think you know if you fuck with me, my retribution will be much worse than cornering you and fucking you in an abandoned classroom.”
I swallow, my chest working. I don’t know that, but my stomach sinks because I can’t help believing him. “Raping me, you mean. This isn’t fucking. If you do this, this is rape. It’s a violation, it’s a crime. You’ll have to live with that for the rest of your life.”
“Let me count all the fucks I give,” he says, so cavalier.
“Hey, maybe we’re takin’ this a little too far,” Jake finally realizes.
Fucking finally!
“Maybe we’re not taking it far enough,” Carter counters. “She just threatened me, and you know what, Parsons? I don’t like being threatened.”
“If you stop now, I promise not to report anybody. I won’t say a word,” I offer, only because I’m starting to suspect Carter might be a full-blown psychopath. I’m beginning to worry how far he might take this if I keep pushing back. It started at groping and intimidation, some humiliation, threats, and bullying; very quickly, it’s progressing to full-on gang-rape with Carter egging Jake on.
What’s the next escalation? Murder? Carter will convince Jake the only way to ensure my silence is to snap my neck and toss my body into a river?
I’ll be the girl on the news.
The town will light candles and hold a vigil, girls who hate me will muster tears when they tell news anchors what great friends we were, and my sobbing mother will stammer about how she can’t imagine who would do such a thing to me, how I was such a nice girl, how everyone loved me. In a few months, the town will forget me, my family will have to leave to escape the pain and try to start over, and the only lives ruined will be ours. Carter will be crowned prom king, Jake will play college ball, and I’ll get a full-page memorial spread in the senior yearbook.
Cold fear slices through me. I don’t want to be treated like this, but I don’t want to lose my life to these entitled scumbags either, and I know enough about psychology to understand Carter could convince Jake and Shayne to do something they would never do on their own. He’s appealing to their group mentality, making it them vs. me, and painting me as the bad guy. The logic doesn’t have to hold up; it only has to make sense long enough for them to act rashly, and at the rate he moves, that wouldn’t take long at all.
They could literally kill me, and I would be just another easily forgotten statistic. My life lost, all so these assholes can play a damn sport despite their horrible behavior.
Carter watches me as these thoughts flit through my mind. He’s dangerous. These other two, they’re nothing sinister, harmless assholes left to their own devices, but not with him leading them like stupid horses to a poisoned well. I never saw it in him before, but then I’ve never spent any time with Carter Mahoney. I see the same superficial side of him everyone else sees—the wealthy, privileged quarterback with a golden arm. I’ve never looked twice at him, so how would I have noticed a monster lurking beneath the surface?
I try to take a more conciliatory tone when I address him. He’s like a rabid junkyard dog with a bone, and I need him to unclench his jaws so I can run away. “Look, I don’t want to go to war with you, Carter. I don’t even have a problem with you. This is supposed to be between me and Jake.”
Carter ignores my attempt to make peace and glances at Jake.
“She’s a stickler for consequences, this one,” Carter muses aloud, like he can read my mind. Like he knows why all of a sudden I’m trying to backpedal with him. “I’m wondering if it’s safe for any of us to let her go, Parsons.”
“It is,” I offer quickly. “If you let me go now, we
can act like this never happened. Just stay away from me and I’ll stay away from you.”
“Yeah?” Carter asks calmly, flicking his thumb across my nipple and watching my face as I gasp at the sensation. “You’ll sit in history class with me tomorrow and keep your pretty little mouth shut if I let you go?”
My heart thuds in protest, but I ignore it. The time for protest has passed. It’s degrading to nod when he worded it that way, but that’s why he did it. He wants to humiliate me. I don’t care anymore. I just want to get the hell out of here. I need this whole awful experience to be over.
The thing that scares me is Jake wants to punish me and Shayne is just a joiner, but Carter? Carter wants to rape me. He doesn’t care about Jake’s thing, he’s just here for the fun. This is fun to him.
Carter walks me forward, finally releasing me long enough to push my back against the pillar Jake had me against to begin with. Then he bends his head and takes the nipple he’s been playing with into his mouth and sucks it. I gasp, closing my eyes and stiffening my body, pushing my head back against the brick pillar as this near stranger sucks on my breast. Revulsion swims through my gut, crawls up my spine and sends chills down my legs.
I shouldn’t have told him I’m a virgin. I thought it would appeal to their humanity, that they wouldn’t want to cross that line, but I think it made Carter want me more. He doesn’t want me—he wants to steal my innocence, like he said.
Carter grabs my body and tugs me closer to his, releasing that nipple and moving his mouth to the other. I push against him trying to get free, but he doesn’t budge. His muscular arms don’t even strain. He can hold onto me and keep his mouth on me at the same time, that’s how easy it is for him to overpower me.
His tongue swirls around the peak of my breast, then he bites. Not hard, just enough to make me jump and give another futile push against his broad shoulders. This is the strangest sensation. My breasts have never been in anyone’s mouth before; I never thought the first time would be against my will—and I damn sure didn’t think the mouth suckling my breast would be Carter Mahoney’s.