“Meaning?”
“She’ll challenge me.” I know her well enough to know she’ll push me, especially if she’s drunk. And not like it’ll be hard for her to want me. She begged me to fuck her just last week at my party. That video is still getting hits from what Deke showed me yesterday. “Record whatever you can get, then send it to yourself. Depending on what she does, you can upload it tomorrow.”
He nods. “And Becky?”
“What about her?” I ask. She’s not my problem. In fact, she’s my help. I climb out of his SUV but smile to myself. “Actually, you should make your move.”
“What? She’s with David.” He shakes his head.
“I heard he dumped her over winter break.” I may not talk to people, but that doesn’t mean I don’t listen when they’re running their fucking mouths.
“Really?” he asks excitedly.
I just nod. Not like it mattered. She wasn’t faithful, but only me and a few others know that. One more loose end I can tie up between Austin and me. Her best friend dating a GWS? She’ll still feel outnumbered. It won’t take long for Deke to convince Becky to love him. I know Deke Biggs. He’ll pull out all the stops. And Austin will have no one to help her escape me.
Present
“Delete it,” I snap.
When I had him record us together, it was to prove to the school that she belonged to me. I wanted to degrade her as part of my plan to destroy her. But now? Everyone knows she’s mine. And after Kellan mentioned how he had gotten off so many times listening to it, I want it gone. I didn’t really know she was going to let me fuck her in the bathroom when I walked into that party that night. Shove her up against a wall and make out with her? Yes! But fuck her? She surprised me when she allowed me to go that far, but of course, like the jackass I am, I didn’t stop it. I wanted her. There was no reason to deny it at that point.
Becky sits up and rubs her eyes. “What are you guys talking about?” she asks through a yawn.
We all ignore her. “Delete it right fucking now!” I order.
“I am,” Deke informs me, his fingers rushing over his iPhone.
“What?” she asks, looking back and forth between us. “You didn’t … you didn’t upload that video.” Guess she wasn’t in that deep of a sleep.
He doesn’t look up at her.
“Deke?” she growls. “Tell me you didn’t upload that video!”
He stops typing and finally looks up from his phone. “I did.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I saw it posted on Evan Scott’s page.”
He says nothing. Bennett pretends to be more interested in the ceiling suddenly. I hold in a sigh. This isn’t going to end well, and we don’t have time for this shit.
“Deke!” She stands, getting aggravated and tosses his jacket to the hospital floor. “Austin asked me if I knew you had posted it, and I said you didn’t. When she argued that you confessed to recording it, I said you must have sent it to someone else to upload. So how can you delete it?”
His jaw sharpens.
She takes in a deep breath. “Deke …”
“I’m Evan Scott.” He drops the bomb.
She just stares at him. Her wide blue eyes are in shock at first, but you can see the anger take over her features. She bites down on her bottom lip, probably to keep from yelling at him inside the quiet waiting area. She may be in love with Deke Biggs, but Becky doesn’t know the real him. No one knows the real GWS.
I wonder what he would think of her if he knew her secret. The only thing is that I’m a part of that secret too.
He stands, pocketing his phone. “Becky …”
She spins around and storms out the double doors, and he goes running after her.
I look at Bennett. “Make sure that video is nowhere to be found.” Deke didn’t get it done.
He nods once and pulls his phone out. “And the other one? The first one of you two when we threw that party …?”
“Make it disappear too.” I want no trace of her on social media. “Hack into her account and delete it.” She may hate me for it when she wakes up, but it is what’s best for her.
Word has gotten out about Kellan being the one who shot her, not me. It’s been all over the news. They have a manhunt out to find him. I turned the TV in the waiting room off hours ago because I couldn’t watch it anymore. They had taken a picture from her Facebook and plastered it along with the story all over Collins.
Teenage boy sleeping with best friend’s girlfriend and her stepmom. One woman dead and the other in critical condition. No suspects currently in custody.
I almost threw my chair at the TV when I saw that headline. News spreads fast in a town like this, and they always twist the story, no matter how much they have to lie to do it.
I know firsthand what they will do.
I had laid in the hospital bed hooked up to machines with my left wrist handcuffed to the railing. They acted like I was going to get up and run out of there after the car wreck. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I didn’t understand just how badly I was injured until I went to stand. The paramedics had ripped Eli from my arms and helped me to my feet only for me to collapse. I couldn’t breathe. My legs no longer worked, my vision was blurry, and my head began to pound.
They called the headache I got after my car crash a post-traumatic headache, and it was crippling. They said that the adrenaline rush caused it to delay. That was just one of the things wrong with me. They said I had a collapsed lung as well. I woke up hours later in the hospital to the TV playing in my room.
“Three teenage boys dead after allegedly drunk driving.” The reporter stands in the middle of the street, my car still upside down. The flashing lights from all the police vehicles, fire trucks, and paramedics light up the night around her.
“One witness stated that she saw them leave the party where they had been previously drinking all evening. It’s not clear if they were road racing …”
I close my eyes and try to take a deep breath, but it hurts. Everything hurts.
“Cole?”
I open my heavy eyes to see my father burst into my room. His eyes narrow on me, and an officer enters behind him. It may be the middle of the night, but he’s dressed like he just closed a multimillion-dollar deal. “Release him.”
“Mr. Reynolds, I don’t think …”
“Release him right now!” he barks.
The officer unlocks my left wrist. I’m pretty sure they would have cuffed my right wrist if my arm wasn’t in a sling from surgery. They said surgery isn’t usually needed for a broken collarbone, but the way it broke required screws. My now free hand falls to my side. I don’t even have the strength to hold it up. The meds make me sluggish but don’t mask the pain.
“Sir, your son is under arrest. Once he’s discharged, I will transport him to the police station for booking.”
My father steps up to him, and the officer swallows nervously. “Make this go away, or you will.”
The officer narrows his eyes on my father and goes to open his mouth, but the door opens, and my father’s longtime best friend, Detective Monroe, enters my room. My eyes begin to get heavy. “Officer Lawrence, you may leave.”