I turn around but he reaches for my arm. “Hurry up because I'm not sure how much longer I can keep my lips off of you,” he murmurs before he releases me and I enter the bathroom.
For a second, I think I must have walked into the wrong bathroom because I see the back of some guy’s head as he leans over the sink, obviously snorting some coke. I look at the bathroom door and sure enough, it is a women's bathroom. My bladder doesn't discriminate, though so I slip past him into one of the stalls and take care of business.
The guy's still hovering over the sink when I'm done, but I know Jackson's right outside so I walk to the furthest sink away from him and wash my hands.
It's only when I see his reflection behind me that I jump.
It's the last person I ever expected to see here.
Looks like the mayor's son is the next celebrity rehab star in the making.
The last time I saw him, he and his father were threatening me about going to the authorities after he leaked the sex tape.
“Dean,” I whisper.
He wipes off some powder under his nose and sniffs. “Alyssa.”
In the mirror, I see his reflection eye my body up and down. “You look incredible,” he slurs.
“You look like shit,” I counter.
“Yeah. I guess I deserve that,” he whispers.
I turn on my heels and face him. “No, what you deserve is to have your testicles ripped off by a piranha while being dragged through hot coals.” I shrug. “But hey, not all wishes come true now do they?”
He staggers forward until I'm pressed against the sink. “Look, you have every right to hate me,” he whispers. “I'm sorry for what I did to you. I know how fucked up it was.” His eyes open wide and he sways. ”But there are things that you don't know about. Sometimes there are things that are far beyond our control.”
He must be high right now because he's definitely not making any sense. I stay silent for a moment because I'm just not sure how to process the words coming from this poor excuse for a pathetic mess standing in front of me.
Finally, he slowly backs away from me.
The door to the bathroom swings open and Jackson walks in.
“You,” he sneers.
At first, I think he means me. But he's looking right at Dean. Or rather, looking at Dean's back because he's still facing me.
Before I know it, Jackson's yanking Dean by his shirt and bashing his head into a wall.
Dean doesn't fight back for the first minute or so. But then the coke must kick in because he starts struggling against him and attempting to defend himself. Both of them are evenly matched in height, but Jackson's got a solid 30lbs of muscle on Dean. Not to mention, a temper like a raging bull right now.
I'm torn because a big part of me wants to see Dean get what he deserves...but then Jackson bashes Dean's head into the door of the bathroom and I see blood trickle down.
Shit. He's really, really hurting him.
Then it hits me...why the hell is Jackson fighting Dean anyway? It's not like he knows who he is. There's no way he heard our conversation because the door to the bathroom was closed and our voices were barely above a whisper.
The only thing I can come up with is that Jackson's jealousy got the best of him when he walked into the bathroom and saw a guy near me. If that's the case, and it must be; then his reaction is excessive and is quickly crossing over the line to insanity.
“Jackson, stop!” I scream.
It's like he doesn't even hear me. He just continues beating the ever living shit out of Dean.
For a second, I think Dean's down for the count, but he moves and Jackson's next punch misses him.
And that only makes Jackson's temper flare up more. I've never, ever seen him like this. He's like a wild animal unhinged.
I scream and chase after them when they both go flying through the bathroom's swinging door. Not before long, Jackson's on top of Dean and a crowd of people have gathered around us. Some even stopping to record the whole encounter on their phones.
Jackson's not missing a beat with his punches and Dean's face is starting to resemble ground beef. His body's starting to resemble a rag doll.
If Jackson keeps this up, he's going to end up killing him.
“Jackson, please stop!” I scream.
“You ruined her life and now I'm gonna ruin yours,” Jackson growls between punches.
What?
I don't have time to think about that statement, because some girl starts shrieking, “Someone call the police! I think that's the mayor's son.”
My stomach drops to the floor. I try getting between them, but a large arm wraps around my waist and pulls me out of the way.
I look up. What the hell is Ricardo doing here?
Ricardo's smart enough to know he can't stop Jackson in this state. Instead, he waits for the split second in between Jackson's next punch and slides Dean's now unconscious body out of the way and hands him over to two big men wearing suits.
That seems to break Jackson out of his haze.
The girl is still shrieking and going on and on about calling the police but Ricardo takes her phone and snaps it in half. “No one is calling the police,” he booms.
He quickly turns to the three people who have their phones out recording what happened.
He then proceeds to stomp on each and every one of their phones.
I watch as everyone looks at him with fear in their eyes, including me.
The look in his eyes tells me that he'll accept nothing less. He commands power.
My stomach drops for a different reason entirely then...because I've seen that look in someone's eyes before.
I shake my head. No. I'm crazy. I'm fucking delusional.
“Alyssa,” Jackson says.
I turn my head to look at him, but all I hear are those words that he said to Dean. “You ruined her life and now I'm gonna ruin yours.”
It's then that I realize.
Jackson watched the video.
Chapter Nineteen
Alyssa
We head back to his apartment.
All that's going through my head is—he told me he would never watch the sex tape.
I tell myself to calm down...that maybe, just maybe I'm overreacting and Jackson didn't watch my sex tape after all.
I tell myself that maybe he just blacked out in the middle of the fight and had a flashback of some kind that caused him to say what he did. He did look out of it, like off in another zone completely.
I don't know what to think right now. I feel like I'm grasping at straws because it's better than the alternative I'm faced with.
I mean, why would Jackson do that to me? He knows how much pain that video caused me.
“I'm gonna go clean up,” he whispers before heading for the bathroom.
Those are the first words that either of us have said since we left the club.
I want to ask him...but I don't want him to lie to me.
There's only one way to know for sure if he watched the video.
I have to look at the history on his laptop.
I'm not proud of myself. Jackson's been my boyfriend for all of an hour at this point...but I need to know. I have to. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
As luck may have it, I notice his laptop on the couch in the living room.