by L. J. Woods
“No, that’s not—”
“And you did it all by being a slut.”
“No!” My hands come to my ears like a child hearing curses. But I’ve heard this all before and every line still leaves a punch to my chest.
He raises his voice, rising from his seat. “You ruined every bit of his hard fucking work.” Swaying, he steps closer. “And I don’t mean the work that made you ride his cock.”
“You don’t understand!”
“I understand you’re a fucking homewrecker,” he chuckles.
“Fuck you!”
“Don’t be mad at me. You ruined his life.” He’s in front of me now, his scent making me nauseous, his voice booming past my boundaries. “You ruined him. Just like you’re trying to do to me and you’re finally gonna pay, baby. For everything.”
“I was in love with him!” The room spins as I push the words out. “I wanted him and he said he wanted me. I knew it was wrong but he said it wasn’t. I begged him to tell his wife. I begged him to make it real.” It’s happening again. Word vomit. “But it wasn’t until I found out about the other girls that I—” Sucking in a breath, my legs feel weak and I almost fall to my knees before something stops me.
Him.
My shoulders fall between Isaac’s large palms as he holds me up. Then he tilts my chin to meet that deadly gaze. Goosebumps form on my shaky arms all over again. “You what?” A tear streams down my face, the glob hard in my throat and it doesn’t get any easier to swallow as I gasp for air. “Shit, hey, you need air to breathe, baby.” His hand comes to my back as he lowers me down to the floor. “Take a breath. You can handle this.”
A switch flips, his words soothing me like he didn’t berate me seconds ago. Like this isn’t his fault.
But with his hands holding me steady, I manage to take a big breath. He waits until my breathing settles, the tense air around us settling with it. I can still smell him on me, the heat rising to my skin again when his eyes meet mine.
“You loved him?” he asks.
My eyes drop. It feels wrong to admit. “Everyone thinks I ruined his life back in New York but … I loved him.”
“He’s like fifty.”
“Thirty-two.”
“Same shit, baby.” He falls to his ass, the heat on my skin rising to my cheeks. He doesn’t speak like that with me. To others, sure but he’s used it twice in the last few minutes … and I hate that it makes my entire body melt. “So you fucked him?”
“Why? Does that make me a slut?”
“My ex-girlfriend was forty. Does that make me a slut?”
My brows furrow as he takes the bottle and the glass from beside the chair he sat in. He downs his drink as quick as he pours another and I fight the temptation to ask for one. “Your ex? Marion?”
He brings the glass to his lips and shrugs. Then it's like he disappears, the fire fading from his eyes. It's the same look he had that morning we met.
“So, what happened? After he preyed on you?” My brows furrow. “I mean … after you fucked him?”
“I was in control of that situation.” He chuckles at my answer like he doesn’t believe me. “If he preyed on me, did Marion prey on you? If it’s been two years, you were in what? High school?”
He shrugs again. “Was it the one time?”
Looking down at the floor, I shake my head. “I’m so stupid my mom found out after one of our sessions and …” My nostrils burn, the glob in my throat forming again. “She’s the one who outed him to my old school. She thought she could get money out of it. She threatened to sue but she never did. We couldn’t afford to. All she cared about was money when I cared about him. I loved—” My eyes move to his hand, clutching the bottle. His elbow rests on his knee as his other leg straight.
Then words replay in my head before my body goes stiff again. Pushing back, I’m remembering where those palms were.
All over me.
I meet his gaze, searching his eyes as my chest tightens. “Is that why you—”
“You’re saying your mom was the one to ruin his life?” He scoffs. “Not you fucking him? What? You saw all the other girls fucking men twice their age?”
“You don’t understand. Girls fucking flock to you regardless of your past.”
“Used to.”
It’s hard not to roll my eyes. “You don’t know what it’s like to finally be seen for more than a whore, or easy, or slutty.”
“You speak with a ton of fucking confidence about shit you don’t know,” he says. “People here see me as some neglected playboy, which I am, but I know what it’s like to be looked at for more. And I’ll never have that. Again.” He takes another long glug. This is the most he’s opened up to me and my throat closes in like I’m afraid to say anything more. Like I’m afraid to ruin … whatever this is. “And I’m definitely a slut, Lexi. A hell of a slut and I’m fucking proud of it. I just don’t ruin people’s lives.”
My brows furrow, Isaac's eyes turning into a stone-cold glare. “I … I didn’t mean to hurt him.”
“Like you didn’t mean to hurt me?”
Now I’m confused. “I didn’t do anything to hurt you. I didn’t do anything with what I found about the—”
CRASH!
Isaac smashes the bottle against the wood, glass shattering in front of me and it makes me flinch. He’s in my face again before I know it. Alcohol reeks off his breath, beckoning me. “And what the fuck did you find? Huh?”
Silence takes over the room as he stares into my eyes, my throat drier than a Ritz. I want to say it but it’s like something seals my mouth shut. Like I don’t want to admit what I know. So I say something stupid instead. “You’re the one who came into my room tonight.”
And then nothing. Silence chokes me as Isaac bores his bloodshot eyes into mine. And after what seems like forever. A minute? Five? He scoffs, rising from where he is. "You’re the monster here, Lexi. You ever thought about that? Because you’re the one ruining my fucking life.”
Heat fades from my skin. “You liked touching me.” I don’t know if I’m trying to inform him or hurt him, like touching me repulses him and I have a one-up on him. “I felt it.” Nothing like I’ve ever felt before.
He places the refilled glass on the ground, his muscles taught. “Keep telling yourself that.” He kicks it to me, liquid splashing over the brim. “Drink up, you look like you could use it.”
SLAM!
My hair hangs over my face, the glass of amber liquid the only thing I can see through my raggedy blonde strands. Then the tears come again.
I can hardly breathe, the glass tempting me, my mind begging me for relief as more tears stream down my face.
Isaac’s right. I am weak.
And like the weakling I am, I take it.
Cupping it between my palms, I take a long sip. The events of the last few weeks flow through my head before I take another. Then another. And before I know it, I’m chugging until it’s all gone. Until my stomach twists and threatens to spew. Until I feel so sick I push the empty glass away.
I can’t even begin to wrap my head around the events of the last twenty-four hours, my mind in a haze.
I'm so exhausted and confused that I can't move.
And after a few minutes of kneeling alone on the floor, wiping at my burning face, the room becomes blurrier. My mind gets foggier with it. And all I can do is curl up on the floor, and pour myself another.
“Lexi?”
My mom’s whiney voice sends a pang through my head.
When I open an eye, the sunlight streaming on my body makes it all worse.
“This?” she asks. “Again?”
Every bit of my body feels like stiff jelly. Weak and painful. My tongue feels dry, so does my throat and when I push myself up off a soft cushion, the clinking of bottles comes with it.
My blurry eyes focus on my mom hovering above me, Lionel beside her. His wide eyes roam my body and when I follow them, my eyes widen with his.
No!
No, no, no … How the hell did I let this happen?
An empty bottle of scotch sits next to a couple more empty bottles of beer. My hazy eyes move from the other bottles on the floor to a tray of white powder. The pounding worsens, my hand coming to my head.
“We talked about this, Lexi,” Mom says. “I won’t stand for this behaviour, what if someone saw you again?”
My eyes narrow, trying to piece it all together as the smell of honey and leather wafts into my nostrils. And that makes them flare. All I had was a couple of drinks. At least I think so.
“If you’re not going to play by my rules, I will not have you in this house.”
“Wait, I can explain.” Can’t I? Isaac’s room was the last thing I remember, so was that conversation.
“An explanation?” My mom gives one of her sarcastic laughs. “This should be good. What is it this time? You fell asleep studying? You were with your counsellor? Your friends did it? Lexi, I mean it. You have to leave.”
Now I want to hurl.
“No! I …” Squinting hard, I try to summon up a memory from last night. But my breath stops in my throat when I remember. His mouth on my body. His tongue between my legs. How after all that, he still managed to find a way to break me. But I can’t tell her that.
She sighs.
“We can send her to the Higher Ground Rehabilitation Centre,” Lionel suggests, a red robe around his body. “Had a file when I was her age.” He looks at me with a smile but I can’t tell what kind it is. “We’ll help you.”
“That’s a good idea, Babykins,” Mom's nickname for Lionel makes me want to hurl some more. “Can you get me the number? As for you, young lady, pack your bags.”
“Why is everyone so loud?” Isaac’s voice comes into the room before he does, a blue velvet blazer over his shoulders.
Wait … “Did you have something to do with this?” Peering around my mom, it hurts to raise my voice but I’m desperate.
Rehab? That will slow my entire plan down.
His eyes scan the room before he smiles, then he nods. “I had a party last night. Lexi crashed. This shit isn’t hers. It’s mine.”
My mom spins towards him and his response makes my eyes narrow some more.
Lionel lays into him first, telling him how parties are the last thing that should be on his mind at a time like this. My mom yells over his voice, the two of them acting like this is a competition of who’s better at reprimanding their children. Neither of them. They’re both a waste of the ‘parent’ title.
My mom's voice is a hum in the background and all I can do is stare at Isaac as he yawns.
I only have one question. One I get to ask when our parents finally leave the room, after telling us to clean this up.
“Now you’re helping me?" I ask when they clear the space. "I thought you wanted to get rid of me. You could have. Easily."
He shrugs, taking a bottle off the floor. "I want to keep torturing you. Since you’re doing that to me.” He takes a swig of whatever’s left, his eyes not even looking my way. “Now get the fuck out of my room.”
Thirteen
Isaac
“Are you really telling me no?”
She bats her blues but I shrug in return. “Not in the mood, Clara.” Leaning against the shiny wooden shelf, I pull the flask from my blazer pocket.
“Bullshit,” she spits, her hands slapping against her bare thighs, skirt at her waist. “And it’s Aarya! You know that.”
Usually, but my mind’s been elsewhere. “Jerked one out before I got here, Aarya.” That’s only because I couldn’t get the taste of Lexi out of my mouth. Couldn’t get her face out of my mind. Her sounds. Her sighs. The way she writhed against me. The way she gave in to my touch. “Sorry, baby.” Even saying that feels wrong now.
But one thing’s for sure. There’s no fucking way I’m letting that happen again.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that.
“Isaac?” Aarya calls my name again but it's no use. I'm already buttoning up my shirt.
I've been meeting her in the back of the library since the beginning of the semester. She’s from The Grove, across the tracks like Perez's girl so despite her knowing I’m on trial for murder, she’s still DTF. For once, I'm not.
There's no spark. No desire.
This isn't fun anymore.
“Wait, who the hell are you?” Her eyes shift to the end of the long aisle.
There’s something else in the air. More than this TA’s cheap perfume. And when I follow Aarya’s gaze, my body stiffens.
The spark I’ve missed from Aarya hits me like a full-blown tsunami.
I notice her legs first, long and smooth, her pedicure poking out of her Valentinos.
“Lexi?” Aarya asks. “Shit, this isn’t what you think …”
It’s only when her sparkly lips turn into a smile that I notice the phone in her hand.
Click!
Fuck.
When I push off the shelf, my jaw tightens. Her eyes widen then she takes off.
Pushing Aarya aside, I dash behind her. “Get the fuck back here!”
I’ve pushed her enough and I know she has no problem outing me on this. Especially since she’s the one who sold me out in the first place. But if I’m being honest, I’m starting to wonder if that’s true.
What she said about Doctor Donovan didn’t add up until her mom. Knowing Cassandra, she plays her game like an Eden Gardens veteran. Ruthless.
So is Lexi the one I should be after?
Right now? Yes. She’s the one with the phone. And … is that my blazer?
As far as I can tell it’s all she’s wearing. That and my Gucci belt cinching her petite waist. I don’t lend my clothes to anyone, but I’ll admit it she looks good running down the halls. Not that I’ll tell her that.
“Lexi!” My voice rings through the hall, beckoning attention as always.
My lawyer’s words ring through my mind but there will be more at risk if that photo gets anywhere else. And after what I did to her, there’s no doubt she’ll bring me down.
Some guys from the team stand at the end of the hall and I signal to them. They block her from leaving through the double doors.
“Got ya.” When I pull on her arm, she spins around and that feeling takes over me again.
Warm. Mushy.
Gross.
She sways, a shit-eating grin appearing on her face. “What are you gonna do with me?” She leans in, the smell of booze coming off her tongue. She tries to whisper but it’s loud and clear. “Kill me?” Her glossy eyes narrow and … yeah, she’s fucking drunk.
"We need to talk." It’s hard to take my eyes off the way her tits spill out of my blazer. I’ll never tell her she fills it better than I do. “Be a good mannequin and give me your phone.”
First thing’s first, erase the evidence.
But she pulls back, a stumble in her step when she dodges my grab. “I don’t negotiate with fucking monsters.”
A crowd starts forming around us, some with their phones out.
“Lexi …” With a glance over my shoulder, I growl her name, reaching for the phone again.
“Listen, Isaac, I’ve had a long day and my only hour of zen was ruined because you brought someone back from my fucked-up past.”
"Did he do something?”
Her brows knit. “Don't act like you fucking care."
I straighten my stance. “I sure as hell do not.”
Keep telling yourself that.
“What more do you want from me, Isaac? Why don’t you just kill me? Get it over with? Stop treating me like your fucking mannequin. I’m not your toy.” Pulling on her wrist, she almost stumbles forward before I take the phone, stuffing it in my pocket. She’s usually poised. Calm. Head to the sky. “You wanna talk about being a slut?” That smirk is back and I know what she’s thinking as she glances at the crowd around her.
I'm supposed to save myself the drama, but it’s clear I’m only making this worse. We'
re both drunk and angry in the middle of the school foyer.
Pulling her closer I give her one last warning. “Don’t you dare,” I growl, my lips grazing her ear. Her body stills. “You’ll regret it. I’ll make sure you do.”
Pushing her off me, she stumbles over her feet and falls to the floor. The crowd bursts into laughter.
Glancing at me, her glossy eyes narrow. “Guess what everyone? Your King is pathetic.” She turns to one of the phones and smiles right at its camera, flicking her browning strands away from her face. And before I can smack my hand over her mouth she lets her words fly. “He’s sleeping with my teacher’s assistant. Aarya Patel.”
Fuck.
Wait until Alexander gets a load of this.
The chatter gets louder as Lexi laughs, sitting on the ground like a broken doll.
“Typical Johnson.”
“Isaac at his best.”
“Are they banging?”
Ignoring their words, I have to put out this fire and wipe that grin off her smug face.
The news about her and Drake Donovan will end her at ERU. But for some reason, when I open my mouth to say it, it doesn’t come out.
She’s drunk off her ass, laughing so loud, I doubt she’ll even care.
So why won't the words fucking come out?
And that makes me angrier. “Get the fuck up, Lexi.”
Her head whips to me before she waves me off, her head falling back in laughter again.
So I stoop to her level, pinching my slacks as I crouch to the ground. “I swear if you don’t, I’ll tell everyone exactly what you don’t want them to know.” Her laughter quiets like a moment of sobriety hits her. “Get the fuck up.” She pushes to her feet as I take a step closer. “You think you can take my clothes too, huh?” Tugging on the collar, she stumbles forward, right onto my chest.
Warmth bursts through me again.
“What did you think was gonna happen when you hid all my clothes?” She flutters her long lashes, proud of her answer. “So I figured it would all be gravy, baby.”
She’s fucking mocking me.
“Take it off.”