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It’s one thing for her to talk to other goats or the freshman slags at the party.

But leaving with another guy?

That’s not happening.

19

Reagan

“Thanks for helping me get her up here,” I say, pulling the quilt up to Janelle’s shoulders.

“You know I’m here to help. I’m just glad that you got to her in time.”

“Yeah, well, I hope she doesn’t remember the fact that I don’t have a penis.” It’s not my biggest concern about the night, but now that she’s safe in her bed, I can’t help but think about it.

Grayson crosses his arms over his chest, making his sweater taut across his shoulders. He looks down at Janelle. “I doubt she’s going to remember much. Make sure she drinks a lot of water when she gets up. She’ll have a killer headache.”

“You know a lot about this.” My tone is hard and sarcastic. “Is there some Zeta Sig starter pack on drugging and assaulting girls?”

“I won’t deny it’s part of the culture—one you and I are working hard to stop,” he says pointedly, but I notice the way he rubs the back of his neck. He’s uncomfortable. Good. He should be. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call the cops? We can blow this up now, even if you did turn the camera off.”

It’s another pointed statement. He asked me a dozen times why I turned the camera off. He wasn’t just frustrated; he seemed angry about it, even after I explained that it wasn’t fair to Janelle to show her incapacitated like that. He’s right. I know we should call the police and end this once and for all. There would be enough at the beach party to get them shut down. If we reported it now, the police would find drugs, alcohol, under-aged drinking, and a slew of other crimes, but something holds me back.

“I don’t want all the goa—the pledges to go down.” Again, I look at Janelle, dead to the world in her bed. “And I don’t want her to be involved unless she wants that.”

It’s a semi-valid excuse, but it’s not all that’s nagging at me. For some reason, I want to see this through. I want to witness Royer’s shock when he realizes I’m stronger than he thought.

Grayson looks down at Janelle and back to me, worry etched on his face. “Are you sure no one did anything to you?”

“Other than drive me around while I convinced clerks to sell me bottles of liquor? I’m currently not their primary target.” I grab my crotch. “I’m sorely lacking a vagina.”

“Right,” he says, dark eyes sweeping over me. “If anything happens to you—”

“It’ll blow up the whole thing. I know.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.” I raise an eyebrow and he thrust both hands into his hair. “If anything happens to you, if they hurt you or… figure it out to the point that you could be in harm’s way, I wouldn’t forgive myself.” Janelle shifts in the bed behind him, and he places his hands on my shoulders, pushing me away from her bed. In a low voice, he continues. “You’re a special girl, Reagan. Beautiful and strong. The day I met you? I never want to see that much sadness on your face again.”

The words spill out in a rush and his hands move from my shoulders, cupping the back of my neck. I look into his eyes and feel a surging warmth. Of goodness and something safe. He releases a long shudder and tilts his head before brushing his lips over mine. His jaw is strong, powerful, but he isn’t forcing me. No, I’m stunned for a moment, brain ceasing to function, until the rush of want cuts through the fog. Pushing up on my toes, I kiss him back, fingers coiled in his shirt. Under my fingertips, I feel his heart race, my own pounding in my ears.

Thud thud thud

“Reag,” Grayson says, against my mouth. I bite down with my bottom lip, but he gently pushes me back, eyebrow arched. “Someone’s at the door.”

Thud thud thud

I wipe off my mouth and clear my throat. Leaning against the door, I ask, “Who is it?”

“It’s Miller. Open up.”

Fuck.

I mouth Miller’s name like Grayson didn’t hear it. He moves quickly but shows no sign of the panic surging through my veins. Miller knows I’m working to bring down Royer, but he doesn’t know who I’m working with. I point to the space under my empty lofted bed—there’s room behind Janelle’s luggage. He frowns but crawls under, cramming his too big body in the cramped space. I arrange the suitcase to block him just as Miller says, “I know you’re in there, Theo. Open the door.”

Taking a deep breath, I open the door. Miller stands in the hallway, jaw tight and gray eyes blazing. I’ve seen a lot of expressions on Miller’s face—but right now, he looks downright dangerous. My stomach flips as he pushes past me and scans the room.

“Where is he?”

He peers into the closet, pushing aside Janelle’s clothes, then ducks in the bathroom, checking the shower and behind the door.