Corrupt

by Penelope Douglas

  Chills broke out over my skin, and the heat that had covered my body before was now gone. The wet clothes stuck to my skin, and I shivered.

  All this time, I thought I was insignificant to him. A stupid kid, barely worth his time. A mistake he’d made one night long ago that he barely remembered. But now I knew that, not only was that not true, but he’d spent three years planning how to hurt me?

  And he was going to let his friends hurt me, too.

  Tears welled, and I clenched my teeth, hardening my jaw, to keep them away. He didn’t fucking deserve them.

  Stepping slowly toward Michael, I demanded, “Where is my mother?”

  He combed his fingers through his hair and looked up, his eyes weary. “California,” he answered. “She’s in a rehab in Malibu.”

  “What?” I blurted out.

  Rehab? My mother would never agree to that. She wouldn’t leave the safety of her home or friends. She wouldn’t leave what was familiar.

  “I had a judge sign a court order, forcing her stay,” he clarified as if reading my mind.

  I inched closer, narrowing my eyes on him. “You forced her?”

  “What everyone should’ve done a long time ago,” he argued, his voice firm. “She’s fine. Perfectly safe and taken care of.”

  I turned my head away, closing my eyes and running a hand over the top of my hair.

  Rehab. So they weren’t hurting her then.

  But…

  But if Michael wanted to hurt me—if he thought I’d betrayed him—why would he do

  something that would ultimately help my mom? Why not just lock her in a basement somewhere like I’d thought?

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Why haven’t I been able to get a hold of anyone?”

  I now knew why my mother had been unreachable. She probably wasn’t permitted a cell phone in rehab. But Michael’s mother, his father’s cell phone, Trevor, our housekeeper who was out of town…

  “Because you haven’t been calling anyone,” Michael admitted, looking up at me with a flat expression. “During Trevor’s party, Will went into your car and took your phone, replacing everyone’s numbers under their names. You’ve been calling a fake phone we set up.”

  My fists curled under my arms, and I dropped my eyes, seething. I couldn’t fucking look at him.

  How had all this happened? Why hadn’t they confronted me sooner?

  “We were so sure it was you,” Will chimed in. “I woke up, saw the videos online, and I panicked, realizing I’d left the phone in my sweatshirt at the warehouse.”

  He could barely look at me.

  “And then Michael saw the sweatshirt hanging on a kitchen chair the next morning, and we finally figured out through Damon that you’d worn it home. You were mad at Michael, feeling rejected, so we...we just…”

  He trailed off, the rest not needing to be said.

  I glared at Michael. All this time. All these years he could’ve confronted me…

  But that was him, I guess. He pushed forward no matter who it hurt, always believing he was right and never apologizing. At least I could see the regret in Kai and Will’s eyes.

  With Michael, nothing. The more mistakes he made, the taller he tried to stand, so no one could see over him. So no one could see anything but him.

  I shook my head, my eyes burning as I stared at him. Say something!

  How could he just sit there after everything we’d…?

  I’d trusted him—shared parts of myself I’d never coming close to sharing with anyone else—and this is what had been going through his mind every time he whispered in my ear or touched me or kissed me or...?

  I squeezed my fists so tight my nails dug into my skin.

  “I want to leave,” I told him, tears still thick in my throat.

  “No.”

  “I want to leave,” I repeated, hardening my tone.

  “You can’t.” He shook his head. “I have no idea where Damon is. We’ll all go back to the city tomorrow.”

  I ground my teeth together. Goddamn them.

  I stomped past him, up the stairs toward my room. I couldn’t stand the sight of any of them.

  “So what do we do now?” I heard Kai ask behind me.

  “Let’s get fucked up,” Will breathed out.

  And I ran to my room, locked the door, and wedged a chair under the handle.

  Present

  I HAD NO INTENTION OF STAYING. I didn’t care what their story was or what they had to say. I wanted my life back.

  And if I thought I was in danger at my apartment, Alex lived on the sixteenth floor, so I could crash on her couch for a night or two. I wasn’t safe here. I knew that.

  But as I leaned down on the bathroom sink, feeling my chest shake with tears that weren’t falling, I raised my eyes and looked at myself in the mirror.

  My tank top clung to my skin, wet and dirty with splotches of Damon’s blood, and my hair hung cold and stringy along my cheeks. My damp jeans hugged my thighs, chilling me to the bone, and I curled my fingers into the side of the sink, feeling Damon’s blood thicken under my nails, wedging deeper and deeper, until it was the only thing I noticed.

  I closed my eyes, feeling my heart pick up pace again.

  I’d fought back. I’d hurt him.

  And I hadn’t run. Not like three years ago in the forest.

  Being scared wasn’t a weakness. But letting it force my head down and my voice quiet was. Fear wasn’t the enemy. It was the teacher.

  I hated Michael, and tomorrow, after I got everything back from him, I was leaving. No more Delcour, no more Meridian City, and no more Thunder Bay. I couldn’t wait to get away from everything that had hurt me.

  Chilled and shaking, my muscles exhausted from everything that had happened tonight, I didn’t think. I stood up and slowly lifted the tank top over my head, peeling off the rest of my clothes and dropping everything to the floor before I turned to start the shower.

  Just a few minutes.

  I stepped in and sat down on the sandy-colored shower floor, right under the hot spray. Steam filled the small enclosure, and my hair was immediately drenched, falling down my back as I tipped my chin up and let the hot water cover my face.

  Tingles spread over my body, and my heart began to calm as I hugged my legs to my body and felt everything grow warm again.

  Michael.

  He’d done all of this. He’d been in charge. He’d told me to come here, and out of love for my mother, I did.

  He’d trapped me, blackmailed me, and put his friends on me.

  I hate him.

  I worked vigorously, washing my hair and body, and then I used a file to dig Damon’s blood out of my finger nails. Getting out of the shower, I dressed and checked my bedroom door again to make sure it was locked before going to dry my hair.

  But as soon as I was done—and I’d turned off the hair dryer—I noticed a vibration under my feet.

  And my ears perked, hearing an indiscernible beat coming from downstairs.

  Was that music?

  I set the dryer down and walked toward my door. Leaning my ear into it, I heard a short, fast rhythm and then a few howls.

  What the fuck?

  Tossing my brush on the dresser, I pulled the chair away from where it was lodged under the handle and cracked open the door.

  Loud music immediately hit me, and I could hear voices and laughter.

  A lot of voices and laughter.

  Leaving the door open, I dashed over to my window and looked out at the driveway.

  It was flooded with cars.

  “I don’t believe this,” I said to myself.

  Whipping around, I charged out of my room and down the stairs, taking a look around at all of the people.

  I clenched my jaw. What the hell was going on?

  Some of them I recognized from being a couple of years behind me and still in high school, some were college students home for the weekend, and others I had no idea. Maybe people from neighboring towns? L
ocals?

  They walked around with Solo cups, talking and laughing, and some even tried to call out to me to say hi, but I just ignored them.

  I stormed through the house, going in and out of rooms, trying to find Michael. The finished basement and media room were packed full of people I barely recognized, and I couldn’t find any of the guys in the kitchen or on the patio, either.

  I spotted Alex chatting with a couple of guys by the pool, but I didn’t have time to wonder how she’d gotten here so fast.

  Where the hell was Michael?

  The court.

  I charged for the other end of the house, already hearing the pounding of a basketball coming from Michael’s huge indoor basketball court.

  Swinging open the large double doors, I heard the squeaks of tennis shoes running across the polished wooden court floor as the echo of a basketball drifted up to the rafters. Several guys raced on the court with their shirts off, and I recognized a few of them. They were seniors now at Thunder Bay Prep.

  Looking to my left, I spotted the carpeted hangout area, complete with couches and a refrigerator. Michael and Will sat on the large sofa, a sea of bottles and cups on the table before them, while Kai sat in a cushioned chair, looking anything but relaxed. His elbows rested on his knees, and he held the rim of a red cup between his fingers.

  Stalking over to them, I stared disbelieving at the sight before me.

  A party? They were fucking drinking?

  “This isn’t seriously happening right now, is it?” I snapped, stopping in front of the table and looking over at Michael.

  He raised his eyes but kept quiet.

  “You kidnap my mother,” I started, “burn down my house, steal my money, lure me here, and then attack me.”

  “We’re really sorry,” Will spoke up right away, sounding sincere.

  What?

  I opened my mouth to retort, but I was too stunned. I almost wanted to laugh. They were sorry? That was supposed to fix everything?

  Will leaned forward and poured some alcohol into a rocks glass and held it up to me.

  “Do you want ice in your tequila?” he asked in a gentle voice.

  But I darted forward, slapping the glass out of his grasp and sending it flying to the ground. The tequila splashed across the carpet, making a couple of the girls standing nearby scurry away.

  Breathing hard, I tipped my chin down and glared at Michael. “Tomorrow you’re going to put me on the phone with my mother,” I ordered. “You’re going to give me back every cent and schedule a contractor to start restoration on my house, which you will pay for! Do you understand?”

  “We were going to anyway,” he replied and then looked at me curiously. “But I’m curious. What happens if we don’t?”

  I stood up straight, folding my arms over my chest and curling my lips.

  “Did you ever find the phone?” I asked. “There are a lot more videos on there, huh?”

  Michael’s face slowly fell at my insinuation, and he sat up, resting his forearms on his knees. “You’re lying.”

  I held up my hand, inspecting my nails. “Maybe.” I shrugged. “Or maybe I know where Trevor hides everything important to him. And maybe I know what the combination is, and maybe I’m willing to bet that, if he hasn’t destroyed the phone, then it’s in his special hiding place.” I looked straight at him, unable to hide the amusement I felt. “And maybe if I don’t get what I want, I won’t be nice and open up the safe for you.”

  Anger crossed his face, and I could tell he was thrown for a loop. They’d assumed the phone was gone. They’d assumed they were safe.

  But from the look in his eyes, there was more on that phone that could hurt them.

  Kai and Will sat frozen, their ease now apparently sucked away.

  “You’re threatening us?” Michael menacing tone made my stomach flip.

  “No,” I answered. “That’s what you did to me. I’m simply playing your game.”

  He inhaled a long breath and sat back. “Fine,” he bit out. “Mom, house, money. Easy enough.”

  Then he snapped his fingers to a group a group of girls to his left, calling one over. A blonde in a tight blue dress, falling just a few inches below her ass, sauntered over and bit her bottom lip, trying to hide a smile, as Michael pulled her into his lap.

  My heart sunk.

  His hand snaked around her waist and held her close to him as he looked at me the same way he did growing up. As if I were in the way.

  “Now go to bed,” he ordered. “It’s late.”

  I tensed, half-expecting to hear Will laugh at the remark, but both he and Kai sat silently, looking at the floor.

  Refusing to let him see me falter, I raised my chin and turned, walking out of the court as the pain and anger dropped like an anchor into my stomach. It sat there like a brick, and the weight was too much. I couldn’t feel anything anymore.

  Too much.

  I’d been terrorized tonight for no reason, and not only had he not apologized, he was doing everything he could to hurt me more.

  Did he feel anything?

  I passed partiers and crossed into the foyer, racing up the stairs and into the solitude of my bedroom.

  Keeping the lights off, I closed the door and locked it before walking over to my bed and sitting down. I dropped my head and closed my eyes.

  I wanted to leave.

  I didn’t care about the money or the house. They should be coming to me, begging to make it right.

  A knock sounded on the door. “Rika?”

  I popped my head up, hearing Kai’s voice and seeing a shadow in the light underneath the door.

  “Rika,” he said, knocking again. “Open up.”

  The pulse in my neck throbbed. I stood and walked over to the door, turning the handle to make sure it was locked.

  “Stay away from me, Kai.”

  “Rika, please,” he begged. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”

  I shook my head. Not going to hurt me. You mean any more than you already have?

  Twisting the lock, I cracked open the door and saw Kai standing there, dark and tall, dressed in a pair of jeans and a gray T-shirt. His eyebrows were pinched together, and there was a sea of pain in his eyes.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, sounding timid.

  “No.”

  “I won’t touch you,” he promised. “I wanted to hurt you, because I thought you hurt me, and now I know that’s not true.”

  “So does that make everything alright?” I glared at him, anger coursing through me. “The stress and the fear you put on me?”

  “No,” he rushed out. “I just…”

  He dropped his head, looking like he was struggling to find words.

  He looked weary.

  “I just don’t even know who I am anymore,” he nearly whispered.

  I dropped my hand from the doorknob, surprised by what he’d said. It was the first real moment I’d had with any of them in years, and he wasn’t playing with me.

  I turned and walked for the bed again, sitting down at the end.

  Kai stepped into my room, filling the doorframe and blocking out the light from the hall.

  “That night three years ago…” I began, speaking softly, “I felt so alive. I needed the chaos and the anger, and you guys seemed exactly the same. It was a really good feeling not to be alone anymore.”

  My eyes watered, thinking back to how, even for a little while, I felt like I belonged somewhere.

  “I’m so sorry, Rika. We should’ve made Michael confront you all those years go.” And then he exhaled a shaky breath and ran his hand through his hair. “Your house. Jesus Christ,” he said, as if just realizing the full measure of what they’d done.

  I clutched the blankets at my sides and stared at the carpet.

  Well, that was one apology, at least.

  I shrugged, allowing him a little consolation. “With you in jail and unable to confirm that it wasn’t you in the mask instead of Trevor, we may never
have realized what had actually happened anyway.”

  I wasn’t sure why I wanted him to feel better, but even if Michael had confronted me, it was my word against Damon’s, and seeing as how I had the sweatshirt, it made sense that he would trust his friend.

  But he still should’ve confronted me. What were they hoping to gain with revenge, other than pleasure in someone else’s torture? Would it accomplish anything, take away what happened, or move their lives forward? Had their worlds become so small in prison?

  Kai pulled out my desk chair and sunk into the seat, leaning his elbows on his knees.

  “I was angry with you,” he told me. “At first, I was so angry when I thought you’d outed us. But I wasn’t vengeful. I was never going to do something like this.”

  He stopped and stared off, and for a moment, it was like he’d gone somewhere else.

  “Things changed,” he said in a low, dark tone.

  I narrowed my eyes, immediately drawn in by the faraway look in his eyes.

  What had changed while he was away?

  “I never knew people could be that ugly,” he told me. “I’ll die before I ever go back there.”

  I sat frozen, wanting to ask him what he was talking about, but I knew I shouldn’t care. He was referring to prison, I was sure, and I knew it must’ve been hard. Hard enough to turn him from angry to vengeful.

  I looked over at his tired eyes, once bright with life, and I didn’t want him to stop talking. Michael never told me anything—never opened up—and I was interested.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  But he didn’t answer, and I saw him drift farther and farther away.

  Standing up, I walked over to him and knelt down in front of him.

  “Kai?” I asked, trying to meet his eyes. “Are you okay?”

  He blinked, and I hated how broken he looked. “No,” he whispered.

  I couldn’t even get him to look at me. What the hell happened to him?

  He hesitated, as if thinking, and then continued, “Damon lost what little heart he had,” he explained. “People, problems…they barely scratch the surface with him anymore. He doesn’t care about anything.” He ran a hand through his black hair, fisting it. “Will finds ways to cope with alcohol and other things, and as for me…I don’t want to be around anyone other than the guys. Not even my family. They won’t understand.”