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Chapter Fifty-Five

Well,having an uncle who is the DA really does come in handy. Even if Uncle George is not really my uncle by blood since both my parents are only children, I grew up with him around. We saw him often. He was like a brother to Dad and it made him a part of our family. He doesn’t have any kids and kind of adopted us as his own by proxy.

It’s been three days since the trial that put an end to Jon Asshole’s raping spree. He thought he could get away with what he did, but there were enough witnesses and enough corroborating evidence to put him at the scene of all the rapes. And the DNA came through. It was a match. Add to that the testimony and video we had of his attempt on Skye, thanks to Uncle George for making sure it was admissible in court, the drugs they found on him, and the prosecutors were able to prove intent as well.

With Uncle George’s weight behind the prosecution and the media circus talking about putting an end to rape culture and rich boys’ privilege, the judge felt the pressure. Especially after that case with the swimmer guy who raped an unconscious woman. Jon was found guilty for each count of rape the prosecution brought against him and got between four and ten years for each of those cases for a grand total of thirty-seven years in prison. He will be nearly sixty years old by the time he sees freedom again. My only regret is not having said anything sooner. Maybe I could have prevented it from happening to someone else, but then again, if I had, he would not have been caught. I’m sure of that. Jon is smart. If he thought anyone had any suspicion or started talking about it, he would just lie low for a long while or go prey somewhere far away from campus.

This is the thing I’ll never understand. Even though he is an asshole, Jon could be charming. He is good-looking and has money. There were always willing girls he could have hooked up with, but he chose not to do that. That was just not good enough for him. He needed the thrill of dominance and he likes it with a fight. He’s a sick bastard.

For the most part, I’m myself again. I have learned to let go of the blame and shame. Every once in a while, it pops back up, but I think that’s normal. And with time it will happen less and less frequently. I’m keeping busy with classes and my job at the clinic, and whatever free time I have is filled with Liam. If anyone had told me on that first day—the day I dumped my raspberry lemonade on him—that just a few months later I would be completely in love with Liam, I would have told them they were crazy. Insane. Loony. Nutty as a fruitcake. But look at me now. The thought makes me laugh.

I feel movement behind me. An arm hooks around my waist and pulls me back until my whole body is enveloped in Liam’s.

“What are you laughing about?”

He nuzzles into my hair and speaks into my neck. His voice is rough and low with sleep, the heat from his bare skin warming mine. I love the feel of him all around me. Love the way his arm pulls me into his chest and how I can feel his hardness nestled onto my bottom. Gosh, I could wake up like this every day and be happy. Also save a ton on pajamas since the first thing Liam does when he comes to my bed is to strip me naked. He says he never wants to have anything between us again. Not even clothes.

“Nothing really, I was just thinking about that first day we met and how far from that day we’ve come.”

He manages to nuzzle even deeper into my back and hold me tighter.

“I wanted to kiss you so bad that day.”

“What?” I push away so I can turn and face him. “What do you mean you wanted to kiss me? You were so angry, I thought you were going to hit me.”

“I’d never hit you and I was angry, but not at you. I was mad at myself because you took me by surprise and when I saw you, all I wanted to do was taste on your mouth whatever that drink was that you dumped on me.”

“You did?” Wow. I can’t believe this. Would’ve never guessed. Not in a million years.

“So, so much. And when my brother put his arm around you, I thought you were his girlfriend and I got even more pissed off because then you’d be off-limits and, in my mind, I already had you bent over the hood of that truck.”

“Hmm . . . I don’t think you can bend me over the hood of the truck. It’s pretty high. It could never happen.”

“Oh, I can make it happen, believe me.”

“I’m not so sure. Maybe you need to give me some visuals.”

Yeah, he does give me some visuals. And I believe him.