His bedframe was the only way I’d be able to do this. Since I’d been in his room before, I knew what it looked like. I knew what to do. The problem was figuring out how to do it without him catching on.
I brought my lips to his neck, watching as his eyelids fluttered closed as I started to shower his throat with greedy, hungry kisses. He didn’t even ask about the backpack, the stupid drunk fool. In the morning, I’d make sure he regretted everything.
This wasn’t about finally coming together. This wasn’t about giving in to the sexual tension between us and knowing what the other felt like. This was about payback, pure and simple. This was revenge for everything he’d ever done to Declan, for turning the whole campus against him, and generally for being such a huge dick.
As I kissed his neck, he let out a moan, his hands grabbing my ass. I rolled my eyes to myself, quietly slipping the backpack off my shoulders and setting it beside us. The problem would be unzipping it while he was too delirious to pay attention.
“Ash,” Sawyer murmured my name, playing into my hand all too easily. This…this was going to be too easy, really. I kind of expected him to put up more of a fight.
I moved my lips to his ear, whispering in what I knew was my best seductive voice, “Keep those eyes closed, Sawyer. I have a surprise for you, but I don’t want you to see it.” I practically purred it out, and I could feel his dick practically turn to steel beneath me.
What an idiot.
I kissed his collarbone while reaching to the backpack, slowly unzipping it. I guess I should be thankful that the Brooklyn bitch wasn’t here, otherwise this definitely wouldn’t have been going so smoothly. This whole thing was a long time coming, but I owed the nature of it to Brooklyn and her wonderful friends.
“Have you ever been dominated before, Sawyer?” I purred out, my hand touching something hard and metal in the backpack. He started to open his eyes, but I quickly added, “If you open those eyes, I’m going to walk out of that door and never come back. If you keep them closed, I think you’ll be surprised at what’s going to happen here tonight.”
Not saying what’s going to happen would be good, but I’d sure as shit get a few laughs out of it.
Sawyer said nothing, panting hard under me. I couldn’t help but smile as I lifted my face from his neck in order to see what I was doing. I grabbed his right arm—he was a righty, after all, so it was important to do that arm first—and lifted it towards the bedframe. The idiot with the hard cock let me, totally unaware of what I was really doing.
Chaining him. I was chaining him to his own bed, using some of Travis’s things. Big, metal cuffs, the same cuffs I’d broken myself out of. I had the key stashed in a tinier compartment of the backpack, and I’d let Sawyer go in the morning, after it was done and I had my blackmail pictures.
Sawyer let me do his right wrist, chaining him to his bedframe, but when the metal clicked shut and clamped around his skin, he started to open his eyes. I leaned over him, my blonde and pink hair draping around his face. “Ah, ah, ah, Sawyer,” I whispered, running a hand down his stubbly face before I went for the other pair of cuffs in the backpack. “Remember what I said.”
He let out a groan, grinding his hips up against me, making me feel his erection even more, but he closed his eyes like a good little boy. I’d probably get him to swear off alcohol completely, before this weekend was done. I grabbed his other arm and did the same thing, and within moments, I had Sawyer chained to his own bed, quite helpless under me.
God, he looked hot, even when so drunk he was too incoherent to realize when he was being had. His square jaw, the blonde hair on his head, the muscles that went on for days…there was not a single thing about his body I’d change. His personality? That was what needed work, and honestly I didn’t know anybody who was up for that particular job.
I ran my hands down his chest, once again straddling him. Beneath me, his hard-on pressed against his jeans, and even though I shouldn’t, I ground down on it a bit. Having him beneath me, pretty much powerless, was so tempting, and I knew he’d enjoy every little bit of it, should I ever give into him, but I was a girl on a mission, and a girl on a mission didn’t press pause for some wild, drunk sex.
A girl on a mission completed the mission, no matter what.
“Oh, Sawyer,” I murmured his name, staring down at him. “You have no idea what I have in store for you.” I bent down, seeing that his eyes were still closed, and gave him a single peck on the lips. A soft kiss, much more gentle and clean than the one he’d given me earlier.
When the kiss was over, Sawyer muttered, “I’m tired.” Tired, even with an erection. Tired, even though we were in his bed and he was chained up. Damn, he must’ve had way too much to drink tonight.
I leaned down to whisper, “Then go to sleep. I’m not going anywhere.” A promise, although I didn’t quite mean it how he took it. Really, with the stench of hard alcohol coming from him, it was a wonder he wasn’t already passed out.
I waited for unconsciousness to take him, and I didn’t have to wait long. Within ten minutes, he was passed out, even with me on top of him. I stared at him for a bit, feeling…not exactly sad or guilty, but something. Almost like deep down I wished I didn’t have to do this, wished there was another way.
Alas, there wasn’t. Sawyer and I were on the same track, but facing opposite directions. It was only a matter of time until we crashed head-on.
Once I was certain he was passed out, I dug in the backpack for the other item I brought. This wasn’t Travis’s; it was mine. Normally I diluted it with some white conditioner to get a lighter pink color, but on Sawyer, I was thinking some nice electric pink would go great with his complexion.
Gloves were next. Unless the dye was diluted, that shit stained. It would stain his sheets and maybe even his bedpost, but I didn’t care. He had more than enough money to pay for replacements for all of it.
After the gloves were on, I twisted open the bottle of dye. My hair dye wasn’t the kind you found in the department stores in boxes. No developer needed. This dye didn’t go into the hair follicle; it just stained it from the outside, and it was healthy for hair, no damaging ingredients, so I wouldn’t have to worry about washing it off. I’d leave Sawyer with the dye staining his hair all night.
Sawyer with electric pink hair. It was going to be a sight to see. And unlike the dye job Brooklyn had, his was going to look good. I’d been doing my own hair for a few years now. I knew how to get the color even.
I dipped two fingers into the jar, scooping out a big glob of pink. It smelled a bit fruity, a welcome scent compared to the booze that radiated with each breath of Sawyer’s. And then I got to work.
He stirred a bit, but he did not wake fully. I just hoped he didn’t wake up with a need to vomit, because ew. I did not want to be dying his hair with vomit right next to us. That was nasty, but I knew drunk people threw up all the time. Please, give me a little luck tonight. A little luck would be nice, for once. I seemed to have it on super short supply here at Hillcrest.
In less than twenty minutes, the jar of dye was mostly empty, and I had it all on Sawyer’s hair. He was lucky, really, that I wasn’t dying his eyebrows too. I ran my gloved hands through his hair, massaging his scalp, making sure the dye saturated every single strand.
Oh, yeah. Thank you for this wonderful idea, Brooklyn.
Or maybe I should thank Sawyer’s twisted little mind. I doubted Brooklyn wanted to dye her hair pink to begin with; I bet it was Sawyer who wanted her as my lookalike. Fuck, I still got ticked off when I thought about it. I mean, who the hell was he to make a girl look like me? Where did he get off?
Clearly, he got off inside Brooklyn, but that wasn’t the point. The point was he made her look like me, all because he couldn’t have the real thing. Well, guess what, Sawyer, knock-offs were never made as well as the brand itself. Brooklyn was the cheap, knock-off brand you ordered off Amazon from China from a seller with a shitty star rating. I was the real deal, and
I was pissed.
Once his hair was saturated in electric pink, I moved off him, tearing off the gloves and tossing them on the bed beside him. I took my backpack, dropping it to the floor so it wouldn’t be in any of the upcoming shots, and got out my phone.
Now, it was picture time. Once he was more sober, once Sawyer was able to wake up and realize just what I’d done—I’d be videotaping that shit.
This might be juvenile, this might be some stupid prank, but it was making me feel good.
Hey, Sawyer should be thankful I left his clothes on for this. I could’ve made this whole thing that much worse.
When I was satisfied with the pictures on my phone, I made sure to send them in an email to myself, just in case someone ended up taking my phone again—cough, cough, Travis. That way, I’d have the pictures no matter what. You could never be too careful.
I sat on the floor near the wall, leaning my head back, smiling to myself. This night, it actually went how I wanted it to, how I planned. No road bumps, no obstacles. It was almost too easy, actually.
Never look a gift horse in the mouth. I’d take what I could get when it came to these guys.
My eyes closed, and the overwhelming urge to sleep caught up with me. The day had been a wild one, full of Will and Declan, and then staying up awake as I lay in my bed while waiting for the time to pass. I was tired, and even though it was practically four in the morning—so close to dawn the sky outside was already starting to lighten just a tad—an hour or two of sleep was better than nothing, right?
So, leaning against one of the walls in Sawyer’s bedroom, while Sawyer was chained to his own bed and passed out in his drunken stupor, I slept…at least until my phone buzzed again and again.
I snapped my eyes open, reaching for my phone, which had fallen from my lap sometime while I dozed off. It was Declan. I got up, leaving my backpack there as I went out into the hall. The party was over now, everyone else gone, yet the music still played downstairs. I went into the bathroom before answering it, hoping the music was so in the background Declan wouldn’t be able to hear it.
Leave it to me to think this night would end without any problems.
“Declan,” I answered the phone, quickly trying to think up something to say to explain why I was gone at such a weird time, why I didn’t tell him where I was going.
“Where are you?” His voice was frantic, and I winced at hearing it, feeling, despite myself, guilty for leaving without telling him. With everything that’s happened, I should’ve just told him and not tried to hide it…
“I had to run out for a bit.” Oh, yeah. That sounded believable. Just had to run out for a bit in the middle of the night to…do whatever it was people did at this ungodly hour.
What he said next made my blood run cold.
“I just got a call from the hospital. Will’s been admitted. He was attacked.”
The world swayed around me, and I reached for the countertop of the vanity, steadying myself as I let Declan’s news sink in. The worry in his voice wasn’t just for me, it was for his brother, too.
Attacked? But how? Why?
“Where are you?” Declan asked. “I want to go see him, I need to be there, in case…” He didn’t say more; he didn’t need to.
He wanted to be there in case Will didn’t make it.
“Let me call you right back,” I said, hanging up before he responded. I flew out of the bathroom, practically tripping down the stairs as I ran out of the house, finding that Travis hadn’t left. He sat on the porch, his legs stretched out before him, a new cigarette in his mouth. His blue eyes rose to me, though he didn’t get up. “Do you have a car?” I asked him.
“Not with me right now, back at campus I do,” he said, slowly getting to his feet. He noted my frantic expression, and he threw the cigarette down and stepped on it. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Will,” I said. “He’s in the hospital. He was…” God, I could hardly say the word. “Attacked. I need to go to Declan, and then we have to go to the hospital.”
Travis’s gaze fell, and it was a moment before he said, “Wait here.” He said nothing else as he walked inside the house, returning after a few moments swinging around a set of keys along his finger. “I don’t think Sawyer will mind, considering.”
I didn’t argue. I followed Travis to the sports car parked along the driveway, the only car left in sight. I called Declan back as we got in. Declan picked up on the first ring. “Meet me in the turnaround in five minutes.”
“Okay, but where—”
“I’m coming,” I said, hanging up.
Travis backed us out of the driveway. Since it was so late—or early, depending on how you looked at it—there were hardly any other cars on the road. Sawyer’s car was a two-door vehicle; we’d all have to squeeze in.
My heart was in my throat when I turned to look at Travis, at the guy who took me to his room and chained me up. The way he’d looked at me when I told him about Will being attacked was…normal. As if I’d just told him something stupidly normal, talked about the weather and not someone I cared about being attacked.
“You didn’t—” My words were cut off almost instantly. He’d been outside Sawyer’s house, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have hired someone to do it for him. He had money. All these rich kids…I wouldn’t put anything past them.
“No,” Travis said. “It wasn’t me.” He must’ve known what I was thinking, for he added, “Or anyone I know. Whatever happened to him wasn’t because of me.” A muscle in his jaw clenched. “Not going to deny I’ve thought about it, but—”
“Travis,” I hissed his name. “Are you going to want to attack every guy that gets close to me?”
“Maybe,” he muttered. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Travis was actually getting defensive. “I want you to be mine, Ash, not everyone else’s.” Mine. Like he could claim me as his forevermore.
I glared at him. “You will never own me, Travis. I make my own decisions, and I choose who to get close to—”
“And that’s why I left them alone,” Travis said, shooting me a look as we pulled into the turnaround to our dorm building. “Including that one,” he added.
I turned my head, seeing Declan standing at the base of the small, rounded drive. I opened the door for him, gestured for him to get in, and scooted in the middle seat, tossing Travis an annoyed look. “This isn’t over,” I muttered under my breath as Declan climbed in.
Declan glared around me. “Travis.”
“Declan,” the other man muttered as he drove us off campus and to the hospital.
The tension in the car was high; I was nestled between two guys who didn’t like each other anymore. Two childhood friends who were more like enemies now. Declan did a lot of glaring, while Travis did a lot of driving with quick, fast glowers.
I was tired when I was at Sawyer’s house, but now? Now I was wide awake, anxiety bubbling in my gut.
If something happened to Will, it would devastate Declan.
And me.
Chapter Twenty-Five – Ash
“Do we know what happened?” I asked, breaking the silence of the car. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to know just how bad it was, what was going to happen once we got to the hospital. If Will was critical…we had to call the dean, if he hadn’t already been called.
“No,” Declan said.
“If he was awake enough to tell them to contact you,” Travis spoke, “I’m sure he’ll be fine.” I knew the underlying message of what Travis said: if the attacker wanted Will dead, he’d be dead.
Declan gave Travis a death glare.
We arrived at the hospital after a drive that seemed to drag on forever. Declan hurried in, but I lingered near the car long enough to meet Travis’s azure stare. “Thank you for driving,” I told him.
“No problem,” he said. “I guess I’ll go back to Sawyer’s, make sure he wakes up all right. He isn’t going to be happy to wake up and see me.” He was leaning over the empty
leather seats Declan and I had taken up, his gaze dropping to my mouth. “If you need anything…”
Now was so not the time to be staring at my lips. All I could do was nod, hurrying into the hospital after Declan as Travis drove off. It was still dark out, and yet I was no longer tired. I was wide-awake, completely alert, as lucid and clear as a person could be with next to no sleep. I might’ve gotten a half-hour at Sawyer’s place, but that’s it.
I ran past the doors to the ER, feeling a weird sense of deja vu. Not too long ago, Will and I had ridden in the back of an ambulance with Declan’s life hanging in the balance. Now it was Will’s life in danger, and I had no idea why.
If someone was coming after them…why? What did Will or Declan do? They were two of the nicest people I knew. Who could ever want to hurt them?
I rushed past the receptionist’s desk, ignoring the woman as she called out to me. I moved to the nearest hall, spotting Declan further down talking to some doctor. I was about to run to him, but the intake nurse stepped between us. “No one’s allowed down there,” she said. “Doctors and nurses only.” She had her hands on her hips, as if she was scolding a child and not me.
Me.
Ash Bonds. Ashley fucking Bonds. Did this bitch not know everything I’d gone through to get to this point? Did she not know who Will was to me?
I bit back any bitchy remarks, pointing to Declan. “I’m with him,” I said, swallowing my urge to say more. What I really wanted to do was swear at this bitch, make her regret stopping me, but I didn’t want to be thrown out of here.
She turned her head. “If you’re with the knife victim, you’ll have to wait out here until he’s stabilized.” The nurse pointed to the seating area behind us.
Knife victim?
My heart nearly stopped, my breath coming up short. “Knife victim?” I echoed. “He was attacked with a knife?” The news shouldn’t surprise me, because a knife was used on Declan, too. But now…now I couldn’t help but wonder if…
Freak (Hillcrest University #2) Page 18