by Eva Ashwood
Who Falls Hardest
Clearwater University #3
Eva Ashwood
Copyright © 2020 by Eva Ashwood
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Contents
1. Emma
2. Trent
3. Emma
4. Emma
5. Reese
6. Emma
7. West
8. Emma
9. Emma
10. Trent
11. West
12. Emma
13. Emma
14. Reese
15. Emma
16. Emma
17. Trent
18. Emma
19. Emma
20. West
21. Emma
22. Emma
23. Reese
24. Emma
Books by Eva Ashwood
1
Emma
The police station is quiet and empty.
Of course it is.
It’s a Thursday night in Clearwater, a small college town not exactly known for its high crime rate.
That might be reassuring on any other night, but tonight it just allows the cops to focus all their attention on Trent.
“I don’t care what your computer says,” he growls at the cop who’s been questioning him for what has to be the seventh time this evening. “I didn’t steal my own car. It’s mine. I showed you the title and registration. Why the fuck isn’t that enough?”
The cop—an older guy who looks like he ran out of patience hours ago—bristles at the dark-haired man before him, and my stomach clenches with nerves.
Fuck, Trent, don’t make this worse than it already is.
Reese and West frame me on either side, and judging from the tension I can feel radiating from their bodies, I know they’re just as on-edge as I am. We’re in the right here. Trent isn’t lying, and he’s not a thief. If there were any sense and logic in the world, that would mean he had nothing to worry about.
But I’m not sure how much sense or logic still does exist in the world.
Not anymore.
Not now that Leslie’s got her hooks into all of our lives.
My ex-roommate, ex-friend, is the one behind this. She has to be. There’s no other explanation for why all of the guys’ cards were suddenly declined, why Trent’s car was listed as stolen.
I had no fucking idea when I recruited her last semester to help me put that blackmail video of Trent up on the student portal website that it would all backfire so spectacularly in my face. For reasons that I can still barely comprehend, Leslie decided to come after me instead of helping me take down the three men who have been both my bullies and my saviors.
And when they protected me from her, she went after them too.
“Well, fucking look again!”
Trent slams his fist down on the table, and I wince. I do understand his fury, but it isn’t winning us any friends here tonight. We need the cops on our side, need them to believe our story—but he’s so blinded by his anger right now that he can’t see past that.
After the cop pulled us over and ran the plates of the car, we were all brought in to the station. It’s been an uphill battle trying to get them to believe us. In the digital age, computers dictate reality, and thanks to Leslie, the computers are claiming Trent is a thief, and that the rest of us are accessories.
The grizzled officer pulls his lips back in a grimace. He stands slowly, resting his palms flat on the table in the interview room we were all taken into when we arrived. Leaning over the table, he narrows his eyes at Trent, whose piercing blue eyes flash back as Trent leans forward too.
“Young man, watch your tone with me. You’re lucky we haven’t arrested you already—but you keep pushing your luck, and it’s going to break. Show a little respect.”
Trent tenses, and I have a momentary fear that he’s going to take a swing at the old cop. I take half a step forward, but Reese’s arms wrap around me from behind.
“It’ll be okay, Ems,” he murmurs in my ear, his citrus scent calming my frayed nerves as he pulls me back against him. “He’s not stupid. Trent’s got a fucking temper on him, but he wouldn’t do anything that dumb, not with all of us here.”
His voice is low, the words meant only for me, and I grip his forearm like a lifeline as I watch the scene in front of me play out.
Trent isn’t dumb. And whatever messed up, complicated feelings might exist between us, I know he wouldn’t want to put me or his best friends in danger of arrest.
But still, worry pricks at me like a hundred tiny pins.
Because I’ve been on the receiving end of Trent’s righteous anger before, and when he thinks someone has wronged him, he doesn’t let go of that for a long time.
Leslie has wronged him, and I’d be only too happy to unleash him on her right now. But she’s not here, and him taking out his rage on the cops won’t end well.
West shoots me a glance, his gray gaze intense as he takes in my expression. Then he steps forward, putting a hand on Trent’s shoulder and squeezing.
“Bro. Calm down.” West’s deep voice is low and smooth, and when he looks up at the cop, whose badge reads Officer Lambert, I can hear the control in his words. “What other information do you need from us, officer? We want to get this sorted out as quickly as possible.”
The older guy straightens, looking slightly mollified by West’s calm tone, and I draw in a slow breath through my nose.
Jesus. I never would’ve thought West would be the one to diffuse a tense situation like this.
He’s an intense man, and so purely alpha that it’s not in his nature to back down from anyone. Even when we were close in high school, before things went bad, I didn’t know all the details of his home life. He kept a lot of things to himself, choosing not to talk about them. But his silence said enough. I know it wasn’t good at home, I wonder if this skill is something he learned as a kid.
West, Trent, and Officer Lambert begin going through everything again, starting off in slightly calmer voices this time.
“See?” There’s a touch of humor in Reese’s voice as he gives me a small squeeze, and I almost chuckle—but the sound doesn’t quite make it past my tight throat. “Told you.”
Guilt roils my stomach as I watch the men before us. I can say whatever I want about Trent’s temper and stubbornness, but it’s my fault this is happening. I brought Leslie into this, and she escalated the game of revenge and retribution to a level that none of us can compete on.
And now she’s going to wipe us all out.
Even if we can convince the cops that Trent’s car wasn’t stolen, will they even be able to help us? What can local cops do against a hacker?
My phone vibrates in my back pocket, and I feel Reese shift behind me as he notices it. He releases me, his touch lingering as if he can’t quite bring himself to let me go. It takes some effort for me to step away too. Despite all the effort I put into fortifying my heart against these three men, I was never able to completely sever the ties between my heart and theirs.
And right now, his embrace feels like one of the safest places in the world.
But my phone vibrates again, and I move away from the men at the table as I pull it
out of my pocket. There’s another cop standing by the door, but he looks bored out of his mind—like he doesn’t care whether we stole the car or not, as long as he gets off his shift on time.
I duck my head as I step past him into a corner, pulling my phone from my pocket.
It’s a text from my dad. Two of them, actually.
Shit. He probably wants to check up on me—to make sure I’m doing okay now that the semester has started. I should’ve started back at school with everyone else on Monday, but since Clearwater University kicked me out at the end of fall semester, I had no classes to go to.
Dad, despite trying to show me “tough love,” still worries about me.
I swipe my fingertip across the screen, already composing a message in my head to let him know I’m doing fine. It’s not entirely true, but I don’t want to give him any more reasons to be concerned about me.
But as the two texts pop up on the screen, my finger freezes.
My breath catches in my throat.
The sound of the voices behind me—which have already begun to rise in anger again—seem to go silent, drowned out by the rushing in my ears.
The two texts from my dad are short. No words wasted.
And every single word stops my heart.
DAD: Ems, there’s been an accident.
DAD: Claire didn’t make it.
2
Trent
It’s taking all my damn willpower not to punch this motherfucker in his mouth. I’ve explained what happened over and over, but he’s so thick in the damn head.
“Hacked,” I say again, wondering if he’s ever even heard the word before in his life. Maybe he’s too old to understand. “Someone hacked my life and made it look like my car had—”
Before I can finish the sentence, Emma makes a strangled noise in the corner.
My head whips up at the exact same time West’s does, both of us watching in horror as she braces a hand on the wall, clutching her phone with shaking fingers as she stares at the screen. Her big brown eyes are glassy, and her normally pale skin has gone so white it looks almost gray.
I don’t know what caused it, but the sight of her in pain like this feels like a hot knife in my chest.
There was a time when I wanted her pain. When I craved it. When I let my own pain and bitterness blind me to the truth about her, seeing only what I wanted to see and making her the sole object of my vengeance and hatred.
Now?
Now I would kill anyone who hurt her with my bare hands.
Now I wish I could kick my own ass for the pain I caused her.
I’m moving before I even realize what I’m doing, my chair skidding backward across the floor as I stand quickly. West is right beside me as I rush toward Emma, but Reese was already standing, so he reaches her first.
And it’s a good fucking thing he does.
Her knees buckle, and he slips an arm around her waist before she can go down.
“Holy shit! Emma, you okay? What’s wrong?” he asks as West and I reach them.
Whatever it is, it’s fucking bad. I can see Emma struggling to hold on, to keep herself from falling apart. But my girl is strong. She’s stronger than almost anyone I know, and as Reese’s arms band around her, she locks out her knees, keeping her legs under her.
Officer Lambert has finally caught on that something is wrong, and he comes to stand beside us as I take her face in both my hands, cradling her soft cheeks in my palms.
“Ems.” My voice is firm but gentle. “What is it? What’s going on?”
Her eyes meet mine, and the tears shimmering in them finally spill over. Something else mingles with the pain in her eyes, and I can’t quite tell what it is.
Guilt? Why?
“Trent…” She blinks, her chin quivering. She shakes her head as she tightens her grip on her phone, raising it slightly. “I’m… I’m so sorry. I can’t—I don’t—”
“It’s okay,” I tell her reassuringly. Knowing she’s unable to form the words to explain, I pull the phone from her grasp. Whatever upset her so badly was on her cell.
“Wait, Trent—”
She reaches for the phone, panic lighting in her eyes. But it’s too late. I’ve seen.
And now I know why she reacted the way she did.
Shock spreads through my body like a numbing poison, making my limbs feel heavy and weak.
Claire. My mom.
She didn’t make it.
I don’t know what kind of accident it was, and I don’t know why she was with Paul. As far as I knew, the two of them split up recently because Paul was worried about his daughter and wanted to focus on her. I felt like shit when my mom told me about that, and seeing her so heartbroken was one of the things that finally forced me to face what a selfish asshole I’d been.
Were they back together?
Or maybe she still had him listed as an emergency contact?
How did he learn of her death before I did?
Familiar anger born of pain builds in my gut, and I clench my fist, squeezing the phone so hard the screen nearly cracks.
My gaze moves up to connect with Emma’s again, and the second I look into her sad brown eyes, the anger inside me drains away. Now I know why there’s guilt on her face. She’s put this on herself somehow. She probably thinks I’ll find a way to blame her too.
But I won’t.
I won’t let anything come between us, ever again.
Emma steps out of Reese’s embrace and moves toward me, the motion tentative. Reaching out, I haul her toward me and wrap my arms around her, enveloping her small, soft body. She clings to me, and I can feel her shaking, feel the hard, fast beat of her heart against my ribs.
“I’m sorry, Trent. I’m so, so sorry,” she whispers, her voice soft and broken.
“Fuck.” West’s voice is quiet, but I know he must be piecing together what’s going on. “Fuck, man.”
The deep rasp of his voice makes the agony in my heart flare hotter, and I tighten my hold on Emma, burying my face in her hair.
Motherfucker. How? How is this possible?
When I woke up this morning, I was on top of the world. My friends and I had helped keep Emma safe from that crazy bitch, Leslie. The threat was over. We took Ems out for dinner, and for the first time in a long time, things felt good between all of us. The strain and tension that fucked up our relationship for so long were finally starting to dissipate. Emma was starting to believe that I truly was on her side.
Then Leslie fucked with us. Somehow, she managed to hack us even though she’s supposedly in some facility for people with addictions and personality disorders.
I almost got arrested because of her.
And now…
My whole world feels like it’s been blown apart.
Ems keeps murmuring that she’s sorry, and I hear Reese talking in a low voice to Officer Lambert. My hand is tangled in Emma’s soft blonde locks, and I don’t know how I’ll ever let go of her. I don’t want to step out of this moment; I don’t want to face the reality of what I’ve just learned.
My hand stills in Emma’s hair as a new thought bounces around in my mind.
Holy fuck. Could Leslie be behind this somehow?
She’s had a hand in every other fucked up thing that’s happened to me tonight. Is it possible she’s actually insane enough that she fucked with my mom too?
Or is she still fucking with me?
A tiny spark of hope lights in my chest, and I keep one arm wrapped around Emma as I reach into my pocket for my phone. My fingers shake, and I grit my teeth against the pain roiling in my chest as I pull up my mom’s contact on the screen.
There’s a picture of her from last Christmas, smiling and happy, and I look away from it as I press the CALL button. I lift the phone to my ear, meeting Reese’s and West’s gaze over Emma’s head. They watch me in silence, their faces tense.
The phone rings once, and Emma lifts her head from my chest, tilting her chin up to look up at me as tears streak
her cheeks.
It rings again.
And again.
Fuck. Please, Mom. Fucking answer.
The phone rings again, and my heart begins to sink. But then a sleepy voice comes on the other end.
“Trent? What is it?”
My mom’s voice is confused and a little rough from sleep, but I don’t give a shit about that. I’m not even sorry I woke her up. Because she’s alive.
“Mom?”
“Yes. What’s going on, Trent? Why are you calling so late?”
Emma’s eyes flare wide, and she steps away from me, pulling her cell phone from my other hand and staring at the screen. Whoever that text came from, I’d bet anything it wasn’t her dad.
“Sorry, Mom.” I lick my lips. Leftover adrenaline and fury make it hard to speak. My body feels like it’s buzzing. “I just… I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Nothing’s wrong, is it?”
“Okay, now you’re scaring me.” She sounds more awake, and I can imagine her sitting up straighter. Fuck, I hate that she’s gotten dragged into this. “What on earth is going on?”
“I got hacked,” I say simply. At least I know she’ll understand what that means, unlike Officer Lambert the Genius. “Somebody’s fucking with me, and with Emma, Reese, and West too. She made it seem like something had happened to you. You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, yes. I’m fine. Are you? Oh my goodness, Trent, where are you?”
“The police station.”
She lets out a little yelp of surprise, and I curse inwardly. Fucking hell. I’m so damn happy she’s okay, but for fuck’s sake, this was not how I wanted her to find out about all of this bullshit.