“Peters, what are you doing? Go home,” Nick said, leaning casually against his car. “Sydney doesn’t want you anymore, golden boy.”

“Nick,” Sydneys snapped. “He’s wasted and hurt. Go inside and get help.”

Red-hot rage took over every muscle as I looked up at his snarky smirking face and dumb nonprescription hipster glasses.

“I’m fine. Just help me up.” I raised a hand, and Sharbus grabbed it, pulling me up.

Once I was stable, I glanced at my beautiful Sydneys, then back at the dirty-ass rapist.

“You’re a fucking dead man.” Slamming my forearm against Nick’s neck, I pinned him to his car. Nick’s face grew red, and I made it purple as I punched him repeatedly across the jaw.

“Gray, stop!” Sydneys yelled from behind me. “What are you doing?”

After two more blows, someone held my arm back, and I looked up to find Fernando pulling me away. He flipped me around, and I saw Chance and Sydneys standing on the lawn.

Chance winked and tipped a keg cup in my direction. “Atta boy,” he said.

“The fuck was that about?” Sharbus yelled, and suddenly, Fernando let me go and I dropped to my knees. When I twisted around, Fernando was holding Sharbus back.

Crawling across the sidewalk, I huddled at the Sydneys’ feet. “He’s a rapist, Sydney.”

“Gray, shut up,” Chance warned.

“I don’t care if I get kicked off the team,” I yelled, turning to face Sharbus. “I don’t care about your confidentiality agreement with Northern, you coward. You can call your momma and get my ass sued. I don’t give a shit.”

I pointed behind me to the Sydneys. “I love her, and you ruined us. She’s not a dirty bitch, and she scores ten thousand on the pussy scale.”

Sydneys gasped from behind me, and I turned toward them. “You heard him that morning, baby. Not me. I would never say those things.”

“Don’t listen to a goddamn thing he says, Sydney,” Sharbus yelled, and Fernando slammed him against the car. “And you’re right, Peters. You’re going to get your ass sued for slander.” He pointed to Sydneys. “I have a witness.”

“Brittany Saunders,” I said, narrowing my eyes at Sharbus. “Ask him about Brittany Saunders, Sydney.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

 

 

Two years earlier…

Gray’s door slammed shut, and I jerked my head off the pillow.

“Gray?” I said, letting out a yawn and twisting in the sheets.

I must have dozed off when he left for water. Gray really took it out of me. But just thinking about him made me grin like an idiot. I was thinking if I kissed Mom’s ass for the next two months, I could convince her let me transfer. Reformed, polite Sydney would certainly be able to woo an uptight forty-five-year-old woman with a penchant for inflicting pain, right?

No? Well, I’d think of something.

All I knew was our chemistry was palpable. Not just on a physical level. Hell, we’d just talked for three hours about the dumbest stuff, but it was exciting. The dumb stuff is what you accumulate after several eye-rolling years with a person. We got it all out in one glorious night.

Closing my eyes, I smashed my face into his pillow, breathing in his scent again.

Two knocks came from the door, and I lifted my head, waiting for Gray to enter.

“Quarter point on the pussy scale for that dirty bitch in there, but I took her to Pound Town. She’s learned her lesson.” A voice rang through the door, and I slid my hands to my ears, ready to slap myself.

I couldn’t think. I couldn’t hear. Blood pounded in my ears as I jumped out of bed and grabbed my clothes. What am I thinking? Of course Gray was a douche.

Slipping on my dress, I felt the tears stream down my cheeks as I waited for Gray to walk inside, but instead, I heard footsteps fade down the hall.

Throwing open the door, I looked for the nearest exit. Fortunately, there was a set of stairs across from Gray’s room, so I ran up two flights in my bare feet and ran to the guest dorm room.

Don’t cry, Sydney. Or do it later. Not now.

When I entered, Megan was hugging Brittany, and Brittany was crying. She was in the same dress as the night before. Instead of asking what was wrong, I panicked and grabbed my bag from the foot of my unused bed. I had to get out of here.

When I heard an earth-shattering sob from Brittany, I turned around.

“What the hell happened?” I asked, slinging my bag over my shoulder, shooting a nervous glance at the open door. I wiped below my eyes, pretending to smear away some mascara, but I was about to explode.

“Brittany’s sick,” Megan said, stroking the hair from Brittany’s face. “She must have had too much to drink last night. I found her outside in the hallway this morning.”

“Outside in the hallway?”

Megan nodded.

Brittany buried her face in Megan’s cardigan. “I slept with someone… I don’t remember why, but I don’t think I wanted to,” she said on a sob. “My underwear’s missing.”

“What do you mean you didn’t want to?”

“I think I said no, but he was so persistent, and when I tried to push him off, I turned and threw up all over the bed.”

Megan moved away, and I saw vomit dribbled over Brittany’s dress.

I’d just met these girls yesterday, and I had no idea what to say. I knew they were in high school still, and from my hometown, but not much beyond that.

I sat down on the bed, holding my bag in my lap. “Brittany, you have to report it. You’re underage, and it sounds like you may have been slipped something.”

Hearing my words, Brittany cried harder.

Megan shot me a dirty look. “Don’t you think she knows that?”

Pulling out my phone, I glanced down at the time. I could still make the bus into the city if I hurried. “Listen, you two don’t know me,” I said, standing from the bed. “If anyone asks you, you have no idea who I am. And don’t fuck around. I know where you guys go to school.”

I felt awful threatening them. It was wrong. But my own humiliation won out over my sympathy for Brittany. Megan was there for her, right? What kind of comfort could I have offered to a total stranger?

Before I walked out the door, I turned back. “Don’t clean yourself up, Brittany. Go straight to the campus health clinic and file a report. Whatever you do, don’t let the asshole get away with it. Never let the asshole get away with it.”

“I don’t know what he’s talking about, Sydney.” Nick’s voice shook. “Don’t listen to him.” Nick looked down at Gray. “I’m going to make sure you never play another game of football for the rest of your life, Peters.”

He wiped his arm across his bloodied nose. “Your two friends will back you up, but Sydney will tell the truth, right, Sydney? You’re fucked, Peters.”

Nick’s lip was cut and bleeding and his cheek was beginning to swell. He bowed his head, letting the blood from his nose drip onto the pavement as I dug into my bra.

“Nick, you’re all beat to hell.” I held my arm to him. “Come here. Let me take a look.”

As Fernando helped Gray off the grass, Gray let out a defeated moan and watched with glossy eyes as Nick approached me. Chance threw his cup into the lawn, crushing it heatedly under his foot.

I knew this looked bad. Like I was taking sides. But the only side I could take right now was Brittany Saunders, because in the end, the asshole got away with it.

Sliding off Nick’s glasses, I examined the bruising on his face, and he laid his chin on my palm. When I rubbed my thumb over his temple, he wrapped his arms around my waist. “That feels good,” he whispered, leaning his head toward me.

“No.” I heard Gray groan from under Fernando’s arm. “Sydney, don’t.”