Counting On You

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Counting On You Page 25

by J. C. Reed


  “Good luck, then.”

  “Thanks,” I mumble. “Sounds like something I might need.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Vicky

  The door to the main office is closed. I stare at it for a few seconds, undecided about what to do. My heart is slamming so hard, it takes every ounce of my willpower not to run away.

  The decision is taken from me when steps sound and the door is thrown open.

  I find myself face to face with the redhead from the bus.

  Marlene Elijah.

  “We were just talking about you.” She glances at me with pity. “Come in.”

  Shit.

  They know.

  Of course, they do. Sylvie warned me already, but it didn’t feel real…until now.

  I follow Marlene in, and she motions to a chair. “Please, take a seat. They should be done soon.”

  “Shouldn’t I go in?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “Kaiden Wright has already explained. We just need to confirm a few details with you.”

  I frown. Kade has explained what? I want to ask, but Marlene stops me by grabbing my hand and forcing me to sit. Keeping my hand in hers, she says, “Don’t you worry. You’re safe now. He’s being transferred as we speak.”

  I stare at her, dumbfounded. “What are you talking about?”

  “How he befriended you—” she makes air signs, “—and then demanded things from you. We had no idea he would go as far as assaulting you. We know you’re scared, but rest assured we’re dealing with the situation.”

  “What?” My lungs constrict, choking me. “But he didn’t do anything.”

  “We know everything, Victoria,” Marlene says, ignoring me.

  “Know what?”

  “You had no choice. He forced you to engage in sexual activities because of the phone. We’ll understand if you decide to press charges.”

  I’ve never felt so faint in my life.

  “No, you don’t understand. Kade never assaulted me; never forced himself on me. I don’t know why you’d come to such a conclusion.”

  I try to push my way past her.

  “You can’t go in there,” Marlene protests.

  Ignoring her, I throw the door open.

  Five people are sitting at the table: four male and one female. Kade’s not among them.

  “This is all a mistake,” I say. “Please don’t transfer him. It’s me you need to send away.”

  All heads turn to me. This is when I notice the television screen. The image is static, but there’s no denying that that’s Kade and me, caught up in the moment of our lovemaking.

  How anybody could ever believe that he’s forcing me needs their eyes checked.

  A hot blush covers my face and neck. I can still remember Kade’s hand between my legs, stroking my clit as his cock plunged in and out of me.

  “It’s not like that,” I whisper.

  Oh, who am I kidding?

  This is so hot, I want it again. I don’t regret any of it. The only thing I regret is the fact that we got caught.

  “We’ve already made our decision. Kade is leaving tomorrow,” the woman says.

  “It’s not his fault. None of this is.”

  “That’s what he said you would say,” a guy says.

  “And you believed it?” I shake my head. “Why did no one call me in to explain?”

  One of the men motions to the chair. I feel nauseous to the core as I take a seat and fold my hands in my lap.

  They’re all staring at me now.

  “He’s a sex addict, Victoria,” the same guy continues. “He knows that what he did is wrong and so he agreed to make a formal statement. We didn’t ask you to explain yourself because we didn’t see the need. The situation is as uncomfortable for us as it is for you, what with you being a victim and Mr. Wright taking advantage of your fragile state of mind.”

  “But he didn’t do anything.”

  “You’re ashamed, which is a natural response among victims,” the woman chimes in.

  I shake my head vehemently. “I haven’t been sexually assaulted.”

  As my words begin to sink in, their expressions darken. I can see the disappointment written on their face, like I’m some kind of failed experiment. The room’s silent. After what feels like an eternity, the youngest guy seems to take charge.

  “Mr. Wright has testified. He’s even provided a witness who knew about his plan. His best friend showed us the call log and some text messages as proof. That’s all we needed to believe him.”

  “He pursued a plan right from the start,” the woman says. “He preyed on your vulnerability.”

  “Is that what he said?” I ask feebly. As much as I don’t want to believe their claims, I can’t help but wonder whether there’s a seed of truth to them.

  “Why don’t you see for yourself? We’ve gathered a formal statement for you in case you want to take this to court.” The woman types on her laptop and the image on the screen changes.

  My mouth goes dry as I stare at Kade explaining how it all started as a bet and how important some sex calendar was to him. He goes on to explain the great length he went to to get me into bed, even though I turned him down countless times. He finishes with a recount of how he discovered that I had smuggled in a burner phone—information he saw as his chance to blackmail me, culminating in the library event, during which he claims to have forced me to have sex with him.

  My heart skids to the halt.

  I know most parts are made up, but there’s also truth to his version of events.

  As soon as the video ends, I can feel all eyes on me, but my gaze remains glued to the screen while Kade’s words keep echoing in my mind.

  “Needless to say, Mr. Wright won’t be staying in your apartment until his transfer.” The male voice speaking sounds as though it’s coming from the far side of a tunnel.

  “What about my therapy plan? Will it be affected in any way?” I don’t want to ask the obvious: will any of this affect my court order in any way?

  “That’s up to your therapist,” the woman says. “She might want to keep you in here a little longer.”

  My heart sinks. Staying without Kade is the last thing I want to do.

  “We’re very sorry for everything you’ve been through,” a guy says.

  I turn to the window, ignoring the empty apologies that follow. It all started out as such a beautiful day. I can’t help but think that they ruined it. They ruined everything I had with Kade.

  My whole body feels numb as I leave the office, closing the door behind me. Sylvie’s standing a few feet away.

  “You were in there for almost an hour. I thought you’d never make it out alive. How did it go?” she whispers even though there’s no one else in the hall.

  “Not well. Kade’s being transferred.” I turn to her and lower my voice. “He lied to them to protect me. God, I can’t believe he took all the blame.”

  “What did they say?”

  “Some bullshit about Kade forcing me to sleep with him.” I shake my head. “Actually, they used the word ‘blackmail.’ I feel so bad because it’s all my fault. He was moved to another apartment. I need to find him before he leaves.”

  “I’ll ask my roommate. He always knows what’s going on. When’s Kade leaving?”

  “Tomorrow.” The word sounds ominous in my ears.

  I have a little more than twelve hours to find him. Twelve hours I could spend with him before he’s gone forever.

  “Don’t worry,” Sylvie says. “We’ll find him.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Kaiden

  I’m resting on a stranger’s bed, staring at a poster of “The Scream” by Edvard Munch. I’ve never been a fan of old, famous paintings, but this one talks to me. Fear has been plaguing me since I was called into the main office this morning. The fear inside me has grown to new proportions when I was told to pack my bags and move out of my apartment. My fear’s now turned into panic at the prospect of leaving Vi
cky behind.

  In retrospect, I could have handled that meeting differently. I should have kept my mouth shut or called my relationship with Vicky a one-time thing, but as usual, I went overboard. I revealed everything, bathing myself in a very bad light to protect Vicky, which might not have been necessary. Despite my willingness to confess, my request to continue the program was denied. So, here I am, fearing the hours that are quickly passing by, waiting for the car to pick me up, as I’m staring at a print of an old painting.

  At least, I could convince them that Vicky was in no way to blame. That knowledge will be my only solace after I’ve left this place. That and the hope that I might see her again.

  I hope she’ll want to.

  There’s a rap at the door. Soft at first, then a little firmer. I choose not to respond because it can’t possibly be anyone I want to see—and the only person I want to see is Vicky.

  Footsteps retreat.

  Good!

  They can leave me the fuck alone.

  Another rap that resembles scratching, this time urgent. The sound comes from the window.

  I jump up from the bed and pull the curtains aside. My temporary bedroom is situated on the second floor overlooking the front yard. It’s dark outside, the light of a single streetlamp too weak to illuminate the path leading up to the entrance.

  Even though everything’s silent, I open the window anyway and scan the area below.

  I spy Vicky standing near the tall bushes, holding a tall, wooden stick in her hand. Her face is bathed in darkness but I can’t help but notice her beautiful hair falling past her shoulders in flowing cascades.

  “Vicky?” I whisper.

  Before I can tell her to wait, she starts to climb up the rose trellis under my window. And fuck, she looks hot doing it. I stretch out my hand to get a grip on her and pull her up.

  “Why are you here? Do you want to get kicked out, too?” I wrap my arms around her and hold her close.

  “I needed to see you before you left.”

  There’s something in her tone. Her face is pale, her eyes swollen as if she’s been crying, which is impossible.

  Vicky never cries.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

  I frown, taken back by her state, by her words. I close the window, drawing the curtains closed, then turn to face her. “It’s not your fault.”

  She takes a deep breath, struggling with whatever she wants to say.

  “Kade.” Her lips are quivering as she speaks my name. “What you did—you probably saved me from violating my restraining order. The calendar…I don’t know what to say to that.” She breaks off, searching my gaze. “It was certainly very inventive.”

  I cringe.

  This is the time.

  Even though telling her the truth is the last thing I want to do, we can’t have secrets standing between us.

  “They told you everything.”

  Vicky nods her head, her expression still soft, but her insecurity is etched in her features. “It was a good excuse. How did you get your friend to play along?”

  Silence fills the air as realization dawns on me.

  She thinks it was all a lie.

  I stare at her, taking in her bright eyes, the hope, and the faith I’m going to take away.

  I wipe my face with my hand. “No, Vicky.” My eyes meet hers. “That’s the thing. We need to talk about that.”

  It takes her a split second to understand before her eyes go wide and she takes a step back from me.

  “You really have a sex calendar?” Her tone sounds so hurt, my whole body tenses.

  “I did.”

  She shakes her head. I see suspicion in her eyes, followed by disbelief, then suspicion again. When I don’t go on to explain myself, she shakes her head again.

  “So, it was all true?”

  I sit down on the edge of the bed, unsure how to proceed. It was never my intention to hurt her, but I know what I’m going to say next will do just that. “I started it last year. It’s the reason why I’m here. A sex scandal went a little out of hand and my company’s board decided that I needed to get help.” She looks at me like she doesn’t know me, which is worse than any screaming and shouting. “I guess I needed help,” I add.

  Her hands fall to her sides. She looks defeated, as if all her power has poured out of her.

  “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  She cocks her head to the side. “How so?” I don’t answer. “Kade, how is something like aiming to fuck a different woman every day for a year more complicated than you telling me you don’t do relationships?” Slowly, she inches closer until she’s standing before me. I fight the urge to pull her into my arms, to touch her, to tell her that things have changed, that none of it matters, but I dare not, afraid of her reaction.

  Her disdain, even though she might not even know her role in this game.

  “I’m the last one.” There’s no doubt in her voice. No hesitation. Just a simple statement. She sits down beside me and tucks her hands between her knees as she exhales a slow breath.

  Her body’s so close I can feel it burning.

  “I thought we were being honest with each other.” Another statement. “Did you really think it would have bothered me?”

  I regard her, expecting to see pain. But all I see in her eyes is indifference.

  “You don’t mind?”

  “No, I don’t.” She looks serious. I can’t detect any lying either. “Why would I? You told me from the beginning that you only do hook-ups. What?” She catches my glance, scowling. “You really thought I believed you were a saint? Come on. Let’s be real here. If there’s one thing this institution has taught me is that you can’t trust feelings.” She falls back against the cushions, staring at the ugly painting—just like I did barely ten minutes ago. “Honestly, I expected it, Kade. I’m a magnet for the kind of guy who’ll never settle for one woman, who’ll never choose the little house with a white picket fence in the suburbs kind of life. I don’t even remember a time when someone wanted me for who I am. Bruce never even wanted to fuck me.”

  I grimace as I remember that I still haven’t told her everything. She catches my expression and frowns.

  “What?”

  I sigh. “I haven’t decided whether I should tell you.”

  Her body tenses as she pushes up on her elbows. “Tell me what?” Her voice is high-pitched. Definitely nervous. “Don’t tell me you’re married or—” She scowls at me as she’s thinking of scenarios worse than cheating.

  “It’s nothing of that sort. It’s about Bruce.” The words render her silent. “I thought I could keep it from you a little longer, but now that I’m leaving you deserve to know.”

  “Know what?”

  “Bruce is gay. That’s why he never wanted to touch you.”

  She stares at me for a few moments. Eventually, she exhales sharply. “Bruce is not gay.”

  “I thought you’d say that.” I head over to my suitcase and retrieve an envelope, which I pass on to her.

  I watch her expression as she peers at the photos inside.

  The first shows Bruce with some guy, both wearing red Christmas-themed underwear while making out in a dimly lit room that looks like a bar. She peers at the next one, then the next.

  The last one’s so explicit, she claps her hand over her mouth and looks up. I expect her to cry, rage, anything but—laugh.

  “I can’t believe I was so blind. The thought never even occurred to me. And I thought you were married with two kids and I was going to hell for breaking up your marriage.”

  I don’t get this woman at all.

  “You’re not angry?” I ask warily.

  “Angry? Why would I be? I’m over him. I wish him nothing but the best. Maybe one day he’ll find the strength to be himself.” She stares at me as if she can’t believe what she’s just said. “I’m over him. In fact, I don’t see what attracted me to him in the first place.” She p
oints at the explicit photo. “I don’t know what to say except, holy crap. And who’s the other guy? He looks familiar but I can’t place him.”

  “Probably because his face is buried in Bruce’s lap. It’s his ex’s brother. Or maybe I should say his fiancée’s brother. They bought an apartment together a few weeks ago. That’s how my brother found out about them. He’s a lawyer. He knows where to dig.”

  “You knew, didn’t you? That’s why you looked into him.”

  I take the pictures from her outstretched hands and throw them in the waste bin.

  “I suspected it. Seriously, no guy in his right mind would say no to you. But that’s not why I asked my brother to investigate him. I just didn’t trust him.”

  She lets out a laugh. “You would fuck everything that has boobs, Kade.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  She slaps my arm playfully. “Why don’t I believe you?”

  “That was before I met you, Vicky,” I say softly. “No woman ever meant anything to me. It was all a challenge. Until you came along.”

  “Until I came along?” Her lips twitch. She’s clearly not believing me.

  “I know how crazy it sounds.” I cup her face between my hands and look into her eyes, wondering whether she can hear how hard my heart is pounding. “But it’s the truth, Vicky. I don’t miss the kind of life I led before. But you, I miss you whenever you’re not around. I want you.”

  More than she knows.

  She isn’t a nameless conquest on my list. She broke all the rules by piercing her way into my heart.

  “What are you saying?” Her voice is hoarse, barely a whisper.

  “I’m not the same person. Can you forgive me?”

  I know I’m expecting too much. She should be pushing me away, let me earn her forgiveness. Instead, she interlocks her fingers with mine and squeezes gently.

  “Kade, there’s nothing to forgive. You never made a secret out of not wanting a relationship, so I knew pretty much from the beginning what I was getting into.”

  “You were never a fling, Vicky.”

  “I would like to think of myself as one.”

 

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