Page 17 of Beg for It

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

BLAIR

“Theeere you aaaare!” Michelle drunkenly yells out to me, waving her hand in the air by the entrance of the barn. She’s been drinking for hours now, and it’s clearly starting to catch up.

I try to not walk like I was just fucked senseless with a knife, but I’m not entirely sure how great it’s going because I can feel just how slick my thighs are with the combination of cum and blood coating my skin.

My stomach makes a twisted flip at the reminder of his primal ownership.

“Hey,” I call back with a wiggle of my fingers.

As I get closer, I see small frowns pass over Tess’s and Michelle’s faces. D’Andre and Brett pay me no mind as they continue to mess around, elbowing each other with jests and spilling their beers in the process. David and Riley are missing from the group, but no one seems to be bothered.

Michelle points a manicured finger at my chest. “What happened to your boob?”

At the word “boob,” Brett darts his gaze over, scanning me from head to toe before letting out a bro-laugh. “Damn, Blair. You just get railed in the back of a pickup?”

I let out a half-assed laugh. “Yeah, right.”

D’Andre throws an arm around Brett’s shoulders. “As if Little Miss Blair would disappear for a random backseat quickie, man.”

“Unless it was Riley.” He wiggles his thick eyebrows suggestively. “Don’t think we didn’t notice you both leave at the same time. You finally giving my boy another chance?”

“Uh, no. I have no clue where he is.” It is the truth. I really don’t know where Riley is, but I know deep down that everything hadn’t gone down all peachy with Phantom after I’d made a run for it.

“Really?” Tess tilts her head. “He’s been eying you all night, so we figured…”

I just give them a noncommittal shrug. “Nope. Wasn’t with him.”

“He probably found some other babe to bang,” Brett brushes it off. “Come on, let’s see if I can still beat you in a keg stand.” He throws his arm over D’Andre’s shoulders, the two of them linked, and they both yell while sprinting to where the keg stands are set up by the apple-bobbing area.

“He is so screwed for practice on Monday,” Tess sighs while rolling her eyes.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be a bitch.” Michelle links her arms through mine and Tess’s, dragging us in the direction of the guys. She leans her head a little closer to me, inhaling. “You really do smell kinda like sex though, Blair.”

“Probably all the sweat from dancing.”

“Fine, fine.” She cuts me with a side-eye that is tinged with annoyance. “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s cool. It’s not like I’m your bestie or anything.”

I internally groan with guilt, hating that I am letting her down.

When we were growing up, she’d always twist her words to make me feel bad if I wasn’t treating her like my number one.

At the same time, I know that if I told Michelle the truth, she would just be full of judgement.

She’d look at me like I’d grown a second head, and that disgusted dismissal would be a pain way worse than the one right now.

“I love you,” I coo, giving her my pageant princess smile. It always seems to placate her to an extent.

She lets out a huff through her nose, swinging her attention back to the boys and immediately forgetting my existence. “Brett, baby, be careful!” She releases our linked elbows and sprints the last hundred feet to where Brett is being lifted by two of his ex-football buddies.

Tess lets out a half laugh, closing the gap Michelle left behind. “Who do you think is going to win?”

“Brett.”

I have no doubt that guy could chug his entire body weight in beer without blinking. D’Andre would give him a run for his money, but he cares a lot more about keeping his prime athlete body in shape.

We all stand around the guys and cheer as David pops out from God knows where and starts the countdown, reffing the competition as he always seems to do.

As soon as he hits one, the guys start chugging through their tubes.

It’s a complete mess of shouts and whoops.

I wouldn’t do this in a million years, but it doesn’t stop me from joining in with all the infectious chanting.

D’Andre taps the side of the kegger, and the two dudes holding up his legs help bring him down to his feet. He wipes his mouth on his forearm with a grunt.

Brett finishes a minute later, punching a fist in the air as he yells, “Fucking crushed it.”

D’Andre rolls his eyes before he punches Brett in the shoulder. “You’re a fucking beast, man.”

I honestly don’t know how they’re still standing with all that alcohol in them. I’ve only been at the party for a few hours, but they’ve been here all night. It is both concerning and impressive.

“Oh, shit. There’s Riley.” Brett gestures behind me swiping his finger across the crowd. “Who wants to challenge Riley Manning to a keg stand?” The question lingers in the air for a few seconds, everyone clearly aware that their odds of beating him are slim. “Five hundred dollars if you beat him.”

The monetary bribe seems to do the trick as a handful of drunk dudes quickly volunteer.

My skin pebbles with dreaded anticipation. I can feel him getting closer, a chill working its way up my spine. My gut screams for me to run, but my legs don’t seem to get the message. My self-preservation from earlier has decided to take a nap. I’m stuck, unmoving, a lamb waiting for the slaughter.

“Blair.” Riley’s growl rumbles against my bones as his hand latches onto my shoulder and spins me around. “What the actual fuck, you slut?”

Silence.

All the shouting, cheering, and drunken jesting from our crowd disappear in an instant at his cruel words.

“What the hell, Riley. What are you doing?” Michelle squeezes up to my side and bats at his hand, but it does nothing.

“Yo, bro, the kegger—whoa, what happened to your face?” Brett positions himself between Riley and me, reaching up to turn his friend’s face to the side, giving us all a clear view of the giant bruise blooming at his temple.

Ah, crap.

Part of me is a little relieved that it’s just a head wound and not, like, five missing fingers.

“Get off.” Riley slaps his hand away, relinquishing his hold on my shoulder in the process. I manage to take a step back, but that’s all I get before his attention returns to me. “I want names, Blair. Who the fuck are they?”

They?

I don’t know who he is talking about. There is just Phantom. But that wouldn’t be a good enough answer. Not when he is already in this hyped state.

“Dude, what’re you on about?” D’Andre packs into our makeshift circle, Tess and David not far behind.

“Some fucking psycho knocked me out.”

There’s a beat.

“What?” Brett barks out a laugh. “Yeah, right. Only someone with a death wish would think about trying to fuck with us.”

“Does this look like I’m fucking kidding?” He points back to the bruise. “Guy fucking hit me with a crowbar or some shit, and next thing I know, I’m waking up—” He cuts himself off.

“Waking up where?”

“Doesn’t fucking matter. What matters is who the fuck thinks they can mess with me.” His molten gaze pours over my skin. “So, who the hell were they?”

Michelle angles her body protectively before me. “Why are you asking Blair?”

“Because she was giving one of them a blow job.”

I feel all the blood drain from my face.

This is quickly spiraling into pure chaos, and I’m not sure I’ll survive the aftermath. Everyone within a twenty-foot radius is listening in, their attention glued to the drama unfolding. Phones are out. Rumors will swirl—they probably already are. My entire reputation hangs in the balance.

“Dude, just how hard did these people punch you? Did your memory get scrambled?” D’Andre continues to back me up, still clinging to the perfect image I’ve crafted.

But Michelle takes a step back, suspicion clouding her eyes as she rakes her gaze over my appearance, picking out all the flaws I’d so shoddily tried to hide. “Blair?”

“I...”

I can’t think of anything to say.

Phantom is just some hot online video game streamer. This is supposed to be a night of harmless fun. I’m not supposed to be sitting here under their judgement.

It isn’t fair.

“I fucking saw her on her knees, Michelle.” He punctuates each word with pure condescension. “The little masked freak she blew threatened me like they’re dating or some shit.”

Something inside me cracks. My taste of freedom tonight breaking down the perfectly crafted walls to reveal the girl within.

“What does it even matter, Riley? We are not dating.” My frustration pours from my chest.

“You’re mine, Bear. Everyone knows our breakup is just temporary.”

“No, it’s not. I’m not getting back together with you. Ever. You need to get that through your head. I’m done here.” I spin on my heels, refusing to be part of this messed up fight any longer.

But life isn’t that simple.

The next sixty seconds are a blur. I barely even process what the hell happens.

Riley grabs my wrist within just a few steps, halting my retreat.

The force has me wincing because it’s the same one he used to drag me around earlier.

Pain shoots up my forearm, causing tears to spring in my eyes.

But just as soon as the pressure is there, it’s gone… paired with the sound of bone on bone.

I whip my head around to see a set of knuckles crack against Riley’s cheekbone. It’s not enough for him to stumble back, but it does throw him temporarily off balance.

Phantom stands before me, shaking out his hand.

“Dude, you really can’t take a hint. She’s over you and under me. Move on.”