Page 13 of Play Dirty (Villalargos University #1)

Chapter Nine

Shiloh

M y heels click down the hall as Master of None by Beach House plays through the building. Champagne glasses clinking. People smiling and dancing. The music plays loudly and the lights are dimmed low.

Perfect for what I’m about to do.

First, I need to find him. Which I do, right where I expected him to be amongst the donors and his teammates.

Drinking, pretending to fit in. Wearing his mask, the one he puts on for the world– including June.

The one I see right through, the one I want to rip from his handsome face and expose him to the world.

Taking another swig from the bottle, my body hums as the liquor floods my system.

It’s like I’m walking on clouds, except I'm not. I’m in hell.

And I've decided I’ll drag him into the flames with me.

I’ll remove him from my best friend's life, one way or another.

One day, she will be thankful for it; one day, she will appreciate me wiping this filth from her life.

My hips begin to sway slowly as I lock eyes with the team's striker and Nico’s roommate. He's flamboyant, arrogant, and mine to toy with. I strut over to Thiago as he takes a long sip of the champagne in his hand, his eyes roaming over my body.

From the corner of my eye, I catch Nico shifting in his seat, opening his long, toned legs as if inviting me to dance for him. I smile at the thought, what a piece of shit. I’m not much better, but at least I'm not the one using June. Unlike him.

I’m sure he sees her as a meal ticket. Another rich girl he can marry and inherit her fortune, only to treat her as an option.

A throb pulses through my clit, and shame washes over me as the ghost of his bulge nudges my hand.

Shaking off the thought, I continue my way to Thiago, who pulls me into him the moment I’m within reach.

He sits me on his lap directly in front of Nico, who drinks slowly.

His Adam's apple bobs with each sip, one hand clutching the leather armchair.

Nico leans back, his legs part to give me a view.

Of nothing.

There’s no tent.

No bulge.

And he’s not even bothering to look at my face. If anything, he looks unamused and pissed off.

Not even as I grind on Thiago’s erection.

Not even as his best friend grabs my throat and whispers sweet nothings in my ear.

“Such a tease, Shi. Gonna let me take you home?” This time, I answer, not with a dance or pressing my ass further into him, but instead, I turn and cup the side of his face and press my lips against his.

His hand snakes up my neck as my lips open, allowing his tongue to slide against mine. Slow and deliberate, the muscles move against each other. Through my lashes, I glance up and look at Nico. That’s when I see it. The moment the mask slips— is that anger? Jealousy?

Couldn’t be.

Not when he’s with June.

Barely visible, but it’s evident to me that I’ve struck a nerve.

The way his knuckles are white from the strain.

His jaw tight and eyes dark as they’re fixed on us.

He looks like he’s about to rip his roommate off me, and that makes me deepen the kiss.

Thiago groans into my mouth. “Shi, let me take you home and show you a good time. ”

I pull away to answer when something hits between us.

A piece of ice that lands in my lap between my closed legs.

I look up and catch the feral look on his face.

“Not tonight. I need sleep.” Nico shouts over the music before shifting in his seat, making sure to show me that I'm truly not his type. That he’s truly not affected, and all I did was show my desperation.

Show that I want to make him burn, but he’s not even simmering.

My mind begins to spiral just as a scream pierces the air.

The music goes off, and people run towards the commotion. “What the fuck is going on?” Ezra grunts from behind us as he pulls away from the rest of the guys and moves towards the chaos. More people scream and circle around something in front of us.

Something inside me cracks. I don’t know how to exactly explain what I’m feeling. Somehow, I know that whatever is happening is about to change everything. My body moves on its own as I stand and walk towards the yard where the crowd is gathering. Brown locks come into view, and my heart sinks.

Instant realization.

It’s like your body warning you before something terrible happens. That's the best way I can explain sensory overload. My body breaks out in a sweat, then goosebumps, the closer I get, and then I’m front row. No matter how many times I blink, the image doesn’t change.

My brows pull together, and my hands tremble with anxiety.. I’m unable to process the scene before me. My eyes cloud with tears; finally, my knees give out as I collapse to the ground. My knees sink into the grass, “Noooo.”

Strong arms wrap around me, and I don’t have time to process that it's Nico.

Holding me together, trying to shield me from the corpse. My hands fist his shirt, I’m not sure if I’m pushing away or burrowing myself deeper into him. He holds me firmly, “shh.”

“June.” I manage to croak, my eyes glued to her naked and battered dead body. “Clo-” I choke out between sobs, my finger curling tighter around the fabric. “She needs clothes.” I manage to say.

“What?” Nico asks, slightly pulling away. I don’t meet his gaze; my entire body shakes. Another sob works its way up my throat. “Shh… I got you, Shi.” He whispers as I try to claw my way from his embrace.

“JUNE!” I wail out, “JUNE!”

People circle around us, phones in their hands, not to call for help but to record. “What the fuck? Back the fuck up.” I hear Thiago from somewhere behind us. I continue to fight with Nico as Ezra uses his jacket to cover June, and somewhere in the background, I hear Zayden calling 911.

“June.”

“I know, Shi.” His voice breaks, and finally, I look up to see his eyes shimmer with pain and unshed tears.

Once again, I lose focus, my eyes fill with tears faster than I can shed them, and I beat on his chest. “You did this,” I repeat over and over as I beat the man who dated my best friend. “You didn’t protect her.”

He finally lets me go.

And I scramble, crawling over to my best friend and resting my head on her chest. “She’s so cold,” I whisper, as I place my palm on her chest. Begging for her to breathe, for her chest to rise. “June, wake up.”

But I know she’s gone. Her once soft skin is cold and rigid. The smell of death overpowers the smell of hibiscus. My hand hovers, clenching, opening, and closing, not knowing what to do. Another scream escapes my lips. “Don’t leave me.” I sob.

From a distance, I can hear the sirens over the commotion, but all I can focus on is June and the man who stands before her.

Guilt written over his features as he swallows his own tears and pain.

This time, it’s Thiago who cradles me, lifting me from the ground as first responders close in.

My hand reaches for her, expecting her to take it– to tell me this is a joke. Nothing happens, of course.

Her eyes are fixed on nothing. Glassed over and unfocused.

No more warmth.

No more light.

“Shiloh. Shiloh.” I hear my dad’s voice ring out. I open my mouth to speak, but the words don’t come out. No tears. Nothing but a blanket of numbness covers me, pulling me into the abyss. “I have her, Mr. J,” Thiago responds.

“Oh, princess, come here.” Dad grabs me from Thiago's arms, I clasp hands around his neck, and suddenly I’m a little girl crying in my daddy’s arms again. “Daddy, fix this. Please.”

He kisses my face, pulling me closer to him. “I can’t, baby. Daddy can’t fix this. Not this time.”

One last time, I look back to see Nico closing her eyes and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead as they cover her body. My heart breaks, and I know without a doubt that tonight two of us died, but only one of us actually stopped breathing.

Nico

My phone buzzes in my pocket as I bite back the urge to scream, to rip apart the sick fucks holding their phones and recording. My skin burns from touching Shiloh, but it’s her words that cut the deepest. The cut is so penetrating—I feel like I can’t recover.

“You did this. You didn’t protect her.” Her broken voice replays in my head like a curse, like a mantra. I watch as the paramedics work on June’s body– nothing will come of it. She’s cold and rigid.

Dead.

Gone.

There’s no coming back. Once again, my phone goes off. This one isn’t the burner, but my personal phone. Pulling both out of my pocket, I turn and walk away from the gathering crowd.

Anonymous

All choices have consequences. Consider this yours.

I chuck the phone into a nearby fountain, the screen splintering into a web of cracks when it connects with the stone before falling into the water.

I don’t even want to look down at my actual phone, but I do, fighting the urge to puke out the alcohol rising in my esophagus.

This time, it’s not another threat or a donor.

It’s just a fucking gossip blog that appeared out of the blue.

The Blog Post

By the time I’m done with the post, my hands are shaking, and my lungs are not expanding. I bend, resting my hands on my thighs as I think back to the many conversations – the memories of June. All the regret swarms in, leaving no room for hope.

I feel nothing but anger and grief; it’s suffocating me. “Nico,” I hear Thiago say before I take off running. My hands fisting my shirt, trying to break free from the cage that holds me prisoner.

My legs pump harder with each stride.

My heart ricochets, and all I can hear is the rapid beating of my pulse.

Thunder rolls through the sky as if heaven itself is mourning the great loss that we suffered.

I don’t know if it’s the sky that’s crying or if it's me; I can’t tell if my face is drenched in sweat, tears, or rain.

All I know is that my legs continue to propel me further– then bright light breaks from the darkness.

I can’t stop in time, the car swerves, and blue orbs clash with mine.

It’s not the icy ones that I’ve learned to drown in, but the ones that keep me leashed and docile.

Like a puppy, I submissively lower my head at the sight of my owner, breathing in heavily as the rain begins to pelt down on me. I wait for him to approach me– but he doesn’t. A small mercy on his part, or maybe he can’t show his true self. Not in front of her.

Not in front of his crying daughter.

She needs her daddy… and not the monster who breaks me. When the car finally pulls away, I allow myself to collapse. From exhaustion, from pain, and from everything I’ve been burying.

I hemorrhage everything I've held together with flimsy stitches. Shiloh is right, I never deserved June, her love, or her light. No matter how much I tried, I could never return the love she gave me. All I could do was please her the only way I knew how, but even I knew it wasn’t enough.

My nails dig into the wet soil as a sob wracks through my body. How much more? “HOW MUCH MORE?”

I wait for an answer that will never come— I pour my shame into the soil, and only when rage welcomes me back do I allow myself to stand.

I rise from the dirt and decide to continue to carry on, despite my pain.

I will find out who did this, and I will kill them.

Even if I have to become the monster in the story, I will avenge the woman who offered nothing but love and respect to me.

Something so natural, but I couldn’t offer it back, because I was never hers. Fuck, I didn’t even belong to myself.

I look back at the Victorian building, the lights still shining, the mile-long driveway brimming with expensive cars. Surrounded by more vintage buildings and dorms. A luxurious wasteland, and I’ll happily watch it all burn.