Page 23

W aking up this morning, I find a thousand texts in the boys’ group chat, all checking in to see if she’s okay. But the final one came from Griffin.

Griffin: I’ve got his home address if we need it.

Asher: And his phone number. I also hacked into his email and set it up to send me automatic notifications for his schedule. He seems to use it religiously.

God, I love these boys. I also have a special adoration for Asher’s computer skills. I knew they’d come in handy at some point; I just never imagined it would be to help track down the creep who touched my girl.

I owe you guys. Thank you. At Alora’s right now. I’ll catch up with you guys soon.

Setting my phone down, I turn back to Alora, who is sleeping on her back with the hood of my sweatshirt up over her head. She looks so peaceful; I don’t think I can bring myself to wake her.

So, I don’t.

I watch her sleep for the next hour, bouncing between fawning over her and playing games on my phone.

Sunny stretches and yawns, stealing my attention. She prances over with a smile, and I pet her soft head. I wonder if she needs to go out.

Stealthily, I slide off of the bed without moving the mattress and disturbing Alora.

“Good morning, Sunny,” I whisper and tiptoe over to the sliding glass door, unlocking it and inching it open.

She prances out, and I follow her, gently sliding the door closed behind us. She spots something in the grass and takes off toward it, trotting back with a ball in her mouth. When she drops it at my feet, I pick it up and throw it across the large yard.

Taking off, she bolts toward it and picks it up in her mouth, squeezing and squeaking it as she comes back to me. I throw it for her again, over and over until she tires, plops down next to me, and chews on it instead of giving it to me to toss.

“Ready to go inside?” I ask her, shivering in my boxers and crop top, walking to the door and sliding it open.

She hustles inside and drops the ball by the door before jumping onto her dog bed and curling up.

“Who’s a good girl?” I whisper to her, rubbing under her jaw.

I’ve always wanted a dog since I was little, but I never dared bring one home or ask for one, not with my uncle living in the house. I didn’t want to give him something to use against us, and that’s exactly what he would’ve done.

When I glance over at Alora, she stirs beneath the cozy pink blanket with a grimace on her face.

What’s she dreaming about?

Her head rolls to the side, and a scared groan slips past her lips. Should I wake her?

She grimaces again, and I can’t bear to watch her face twist with fear a moment longer.

Rushing to her side, I kneel by the bed and gently rock her shoulder. “Hey, baby, wake up. It’s just a bad dream.”

Her eyes flutter behind her eyelids rapidly, and I nudge her again.

“I’m right here.”

Her eyes fly open, strained and widened with fear, and those bright blue irises land right on me. Her chest is rising and falling so fast, her breathing erratic.

Running my hand over her hair, I take loud, slow breaths. Following my lead, she forces her inhales to match mine, slowly calming down.

“Hi.” Her voice is raw and frail, like she’s been screaming for hours.

Grabbing her water bottle from the bed, I gently set it next to her. “Hi. How are you feeling?”

I read that POTS episodes can last days at times, and she may need to rest and relax for just as long, if not longer, to feel better.

She takes a few sips of water and clears her throat. “Umm … not great. My head is pounding, and I just feel … nauseous.”

“Can I do anything to help?”

She shakes her head, and my chest pains because I know I can’t take it all away for her.

Yesterday was a lot for Alora, not just the physical exertion, but the stress of dealing with that fucking creep. I’m going to kill him for touching her, rip and pry his soul from his body with my bare hands.

“Would you let Sunny out for me? She probably has to go potty,” Alora asks, rubbing her temples.

Smiling down at her, I lean down and plant a soft kiss on her forehead. “Already did. We played fetch and everything. We’re actually best friends now.”

Alora giggles. “Oh, are you?” Her face softens, her stare deepening. “Thank you, Malik.”

I brush her cheek with my thumb. “Do you want to talk about yesterday?” I whisper.

She holds my stare like an anchor, grounding her to the present as her mind drifts away. “The one thing I can’t stop thinking about is that everything he ever told me was a lie. A ploy to get me to let my guard down around him.” She slams her eyes closed. “God, it’s like I can’t shake the feeling of his hand on my chest … his lips on my mouth.”

My blood runs cold at the admission that he kissed her. “I’m going to make him pay for what he did, I promise you.”

She scoffs, doubting me. “No one’s going to believe me over him. He’s a legend.”

“So am I, baby.” I kiss her hairline. “And I guarantee you, he will regret what he did when I’m through with him.”

“Malik.” Her gaze flicks up to me. “I think it’d be better if I just forgot about it. I don’t want to make a scene and make everything worse.” She pauses, her mouth ajar, but she closes it without another word.

She might hate me for it, but I’m doing it anyway.

“He’s not getting away with it. You deserve to get justice.”

Her bottom lip quivers. “I just feel so stupid.”

Jumping up, I slide into the bed next to her and pull her into my chest. “Don’t say that. You aren’t stupid, Alora. You’re trusting and kind. You idolized him, looked up to him; there was no reason you would have thought differently about him.”

She looks up at me. “But even you said you didn’t like him.”

I shrug. “I saw something in his eyes. But I like to see the worst in people and prepare for the harm they’ll cause. You see the best, and I would give anything to see the world through your eyes.”

Leaning down, I grab her chin with my thumb and forefinger and tip her head back, kissing her gently. Her lips meet mine with the same warmth and passion.

Part of me wants to tell her what I did in her practice room, but I’m scared it might run her off.

I can’t simply like her and hold her hand, smiling. I need to protect her, consume her, obsess and devour her. Which is why I might have hidden a small camera in the room …

After the day I saw him look at her a little too closely, I had Asher help me install it in case he ever tried something.

It’s not a matter of someone believing Alora’s account. I have him on fucking camera, every moment documented. I swear, every single place he touched her, I’ll break on him.

My phone dings. Once, twice, three times.

Checking it, I find more texts from the boys.

Griffin: ETA? Ready and waiting.

Asher: Schedule says he’ll be at home for the next two hours, so we might want to hurry it up …

Dean: I’ve got Elias and Finn with me.

Heading to Griffin’s in a minute. Meet up there.

“Hey, would it be okay if I go run an errand quickly? I’ll be back in just a little bit.” I’m hesitant to leave her at all but this needs to be taken care of sooner than later.

Her warm gaze meets mine. “Of course. Sunny and I will snuggle and watch a movie or something until you get back.” She stutters, ”I-If you were coming right back I mean.”

Leaning down, I kiss her forehead. ”It’s the only place I want to be.”

* * *

The first thing I do when I get to Griffin’s is change from my hockey gear and jersey that I switched back into before leaving Alora’s. And then I pull up the footage of my hidden camera to see exactly what the fuck he did to my girl. I won’t let anyone else watch it; that’s Alora’s business, and no one else needs to see it without her permission. But I almost can’t even keep my eyes on it.

The way he cornered her, forced himself on her … it makes me feel sick and feel an anger that I never knew was possible. One so deep that I’m scared what I will do when I see him.

I give the guys the gist of the information, and then we load into Griffin’s truck and my Corvette, following the directions Asher gave us.

We haven’t even made it to the professor’s house yet, and my fists are already clenching so tightly that my fingers have gone numb.

Wringing my hands on the steering wheel, I force myself to take deep breaths—in through my nose, out through my mouth. But nothing will calm me down, no matter how hard I try.

“About a minute out,” Asher mumbles, riding in the passenger seat next to me.

The rest of the guys are in Griffin’s pickup behind us.

Taking the last right turn onto Spindle Street, we pull up to a ridiculously nice house. One that this fuck doesn’t deserve.

I kill the engine, and Asher and I get out, followed by everyone in Griff’s truck—Dean, Elias, Finn, and Griffin. I wonder if Rupert has noticed us yet.

I lead the way up the sidewalk toward his front porch, climbing the few stairs and ringing the doorbell.

I heard him in that video, telling Alora that no one was going to believe him. Well, he’s wrong. Because I sure as fuck do, and so do the guys behind me.

Sound rustles inside, growing louder and louder until the door is opened and Rupert steps into view.

He looks us over. “How can I help you boys?” His voice is shaky. His gaze lands on me, and his face falls. “Look, I don’t want any trouble now.”

Stepping through the threshold of his front door, I spin my baseball cap around backward, wanting an unobstructed view of the man I’m about to destroy for touching my girl.

Lifting his hands up in surrender, he cowers and stutter-steps backward.

I chuckle and grab his hand, digging my fingers between the tendons. “Too late for that.”

“Please. It was all a misunderstanding.” His arrogance fills the room, fueling my rage even more. “Whatever she said, she was lying.”

Laughing maniacally, I snap one of his fingers back, hearing the crunch echo in my ears. He cries out in pain and tries to pull free from my grasp. But he won’t escape it.

“What do you want from me? Money?”

I break another finger, and he screams.

“Do you really think you can buy us off? Not everyone is as greedy and corrupt as you,” I growl in his face. Wincing at his crooked fingers, I bare my teeth. “I bet it’s going to be awfully hard to play piano with these.”

“What’s your plan? Attack me? Beat me up? The police won’t let you get away with this.” He scowls, clearly having no idea of who he’s talking to.

“I’m sure, as a teacher at this school, you’ve heard of the name Kensington or Hawthorne?”

He swallows hard and nods.

“Then I’m sure you’re well aware of the power they hold, not only just on campus, but in Evermore. They fund this town, and if you think threatening them is a good idea, I can’t wait for you to find out the consequences.”

“All for a lying girl?” He scoffs, flabbergasted, as if he can’t even fathom what I would do for her.

My right fist is flying before I can blink, crashing into the side of his face. “Don’t even talk about her! You don’t deserve to speak her name.”

The guys step forward, lining up at my sides as my fists bunch into his shirt, lifting him up.

“You’re going to quit your job. Today. While we’re here,” I inform him very clearly.

His eyebrows lift. “I’m not resigning !”

“Asher,” I grumble, “show him.”

He takes my phone and pulls up the security camera, showing him the live feed of someone playing violin. “Do you see that? That’s live right now. Isn’t that interesting?”

Rupert’s face pales, his body sagging into my grasp. “Y-you recorded it? Without my consent?”

“Oh, now you care about consent?” The taped-up knuckles of my left hand bury into his abdomen. “I’m sorry. I should have asked. Are you okay with me recording you assaulting one of your students?”

“I-it’s not what it l-looks like …” He trails off, and I shake my head in disappointment.

Dropping him back to the ground, I shove him. “Get your phone out. You’re quitting right now. No notice. No letter. Over the phone. Right. Now.”

He chuckles nervously. “You can’t be serious.”

“Do you want to find out if I’m bluffing?” I smirk, looking at him through my lashes, my head tilted to the floor.

He starts pacing back and forth. “And if I don’t?”

I shrug, letting him answer his own question with his best guess.

“You have sixty seconds before I forward the footage to the president.”

His eyes bulge out of his head, and he rushes over to me with his hands lifted in prayer. “Wait, wait, wait! I need more time, please!”

Cocking my head to the side, I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth. “Ticktock.”

“Fuck!” he cries out and grabs his phone, unlocking the screen. His finger hovers over an app, but he doesn’t press it. “And if I don’t call?”

“Your gamble. Your consequences.” I cross my arms over my chest.

As I look over him as he contemplates what to do, my stomach twists sharply. How could he do that to her? A gross man abusing his power. I’m well aware of men like that; they are my least favorite kind.

“Ten seconds,” I warn him, ballparking the time in my head.

As he spends the next ten seconds sighing and crying, I unwrap the dressing on my left knuckles. They’re wrapped up from my most recent tattoo appointment. I haven’t been ready to show Alora yet, so I’ve kept them hidden, making it look like an injury from hitting someone on the ice.

“Time’s up,” my deep voice calmly tells him as I toss the bandage to the ground. “Go ahead and read this for me.” Lifting my knuckles in the air, I make a fist.

His gaze drops to my hand, and he sounds the tattooed letters out in his mind. Then his terrified brown eyes fly up to mine.

“Say it. Say her name,” I snarl, stepping toward him.

He quivers. “A-A-l-lora.” The coward of a man before me can barely speak, his voice frail.

Nodding, I smile at him—not in a friendly manner, but in a warning of what’s about to happen. “That’s right. And this one’s from her.”

My fist drives upward, colliding into the bottom of his jaw, clanking his teeth together. He wobbles back, trying to catch his balance, but it doesn’t matter because I’m not done yet.

My right fist slams into his stomach, his kidney, his face, and then my left does the same, his cries filling the house as I pummel into him.

He touched her, he made her feel helpless and weak, and he stole pieces of her that were not for the taking. Images of her walking up to the boards at the rink flash in my mind.

Her tangled blonde hair, her torn top, splotchy red skin, smeared lip gloss. But the most vivid of all is the mascara streaks running down her cheeks and neck, telling me everything I needed to know—she didn’t want that, and I was going to obliterate him.

Falling to the ground, I collapse on top of him, ramming my fists as hard as I can against his bloody and swelling face.

“Malik.”

My name echoes in my ears, but I push the sound away, focusing on the whimpers and dry-heaving of Alora last night. Of when the thought of him made her throw up either from disgust or fatigue. He did that.

I’m tired of powerful men thinking they can get away with hurting anyone in their path. He is just another one in the long line of demons who have no compassion for those around them.

I’m tired of feeling like I’m constantly fighting a losing battle. Like I’m not in control of my own life. Of feeling like everything I do will end up amounting to nothing in the end.

Then there’s her, the glowing light that calls me home. We’re simply opposite sides of the same coin … both falling victim to the manipulation of arrogant, greedy men.

The shiny fucking star in my life, and he thinks he can just touch her and get away with it?!

Pounding my fists into him over and over, I feel his blood splash back in my face, mixing with the sweat beading on my forehead.

Sound starts to fill my ears, gargled and muffled, but I piece together the end of Griffin’s sentence.

“… enough. You’ve done enough!”

Hands and arms wrap around me, yanking me up and off of the bloody mess on the floor. Tuning my surroundings back in, I realize that I might have hit him a few more times than I thought.

Out of breath, I stand to my full height and spit down at him. “Your job is already gone. I just wanted to see if you’d do the right thing. Clearly not.”

I drive my foot into his ribs, and he grunts. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

When I step away from him, he grabs my ankle. “What do you mean?” His voice is raw.

“That video was already given to the president—before we even got here.” I yank my leg from his grasp.

Asher chimes in, “I put word out to my parents about a professional pianist harassing and assaulting students. You’re part of the Hartford Association, right? The elite and private organization for the best pianists in the world?”

Lifting himself up, he slumps against the wall, blood spilling out of his mouth as he nods.

Asher winces. “I’m honored to tell you that you’re not anymore.”

He coughs. “P-please.”

Crouching down next to him, I grab his jaw in my hand, and he screams in pain. “Oh, what a shame. It looks like your pleas don’t mean anything to us. Just like hers meant nothing to you.”

Two policemen walk in the door, and Dean greets them.

I would be nervous about cops walking into this situation, except that we were the ones who called them.

“Whoa, did he get into a car accident?” the older one asks, eyeing Rupert’s injuries.

“Sure did,” I answer him, dropping Rupert’s jaw. Turning back to Mr. Von London, I hold his weakened stare and whisper, “Don’t bother crying wolf. It’s not like they’re going to believe you anyway.”

“Stand up for us.” The cops walk over to him, and I back out of the way.

Rupert struggles to his feet, and the younger cop twists his arms behind his back.

“You are under arrest for sexual assault and false imprisonment. You have the right to remain silent …”

I tune him out as the cop escorts him outside.

The older one stays behind for a moment. “Thank you, boys, for bringing this to our attention. We’ll make sure he is well taken care of.”

Reaching out my hand, I offer to shake it, but when he looks down, he freezes. I follow his gaze, finding my knuckles and hand bloodied.

His lips part as if he wants to say something, but he remains silent.

I mutter, “Thank you.”

He nods and walks out of the house, catching up to the younger cop.

“Hey, Malik?” Asher pats the back of my shoulder as we walk outside. “I promise to never piss you off.”

Chuckling at him, I shake my head. “Too late.”

“You didn’t even need us anyway.” Griffin chuckles.

Looking over at him, I correct him, “That’s where you’re wrong. I didn’t ask you to come so you could help me fight him. I asked you to come so you could pull me off in case I almost killed him.”

“Touché,” Dean mutters.

We get in our cars and head back to Griffin’s, where everyone else’s vehicles are. When we arrive, the Kensingtons get on their bikes and ride away, followed by Finn and Elias in their own vehicles.

“Oh my God, that’s a lot of blood.” Blair gasps when we walk in the front door, her eyes landing on my soaked shirt and splattered skin.

“Don’t worry.” Griffin laughs. “None of it is ours.”

“Does that make it better?” she asks, waving to me to follow her into the kitchen.

Griffin teases her, “So, you’d rather us be hurt than hurt someone else?”

She glares at him. “Oh, shut it.”

Walking over to the sink, I wash my hands well, scrubbing the dried blood with soap and hot water until there’s not a trace left of what I did. Well, aside from a couple of splits in my skin that the soap makes damn sure to find.

“I’m going over to Alora’s tonight,” I tell them, drying my hands off with a rag.

“Finally, we get the house to ourselves again.” Griffin sighs.

“Fuck off.” I laugh, throwing the towel at him and walking toward my room. “I’m leaving in a few.”

Heading to the bathroom, I rewrap my left hand, hiding the tattoo I got for Alora. It might seem crazy and soon, but I don’t fucking care. She’s it for me; I’m done. It’s her or no one.

Quickly throwing a bag together with some clothes and the essentials, I hop in my car and head to Alora’s. But first, I make a pit stop and pick up a few things at Toads Grocery.

When I get to her dorm, I knock on the door, and she calls out, “Come in!”

Using the key fob I still have, I let myself in, my arms full of bags. “How’d you know it was me?”

She sits up in bed as Sunny rushes over to me, greeting me with a wagging tail and kisses.

“You’re the only one who would show up at my door without calling first.” She smirks.

When I set the bags down on her desk, she eyes them. “Whatcha got there?”

“A few things I thought you might like.” I start emptying them, revealing a box of the Waterboy hydration packs she always has with her, her favorite bottled water, a veggie tray, and her favorite guilty-pleasure treat—strawberries and whipped cream. Thank you, Alora, for posting about it on your socials.

“Malik,” she murmurs adoringly, “thank you.”

“And of course”—I pull the last thing out of the bag, a toy for Sunny—“something for the best girl.”

Sunny lights up and immediately sits down, waiting for me to give it to her. I toss it into the air, and she catches it, rushing over to her bed and squeaking it with vigor.

“Such a sweet gesture, Ravenwell. Are you buttering me up to kill me?” She slowly rises from her bed and walks over to me, wearing a cute two-piece light-blue lounge set.

“Maybe.” I pull her closer to me. sliding my left hand into her hair and lowering my lips to hers, I kiss her desperately.

Her phone starts ringing loudly, cutting through our moment.

She walks over to her bed and sighs. “It’s my dad. I’ll just call him back later. God, he hasn’t wanted to talk to me this much since I was a kid.”

My blood chills at the reminder of Congressman Briarwood. I feel like my happily ever after is in my grasp, but we’re not safe yet. It can still be ripped away from me, from us, shattered into smithereens.

But I won’t let him take anything else from me for as long as I live. Even if he tries to slay me like a dragon, I’ll burn his fairy tale and lies to the ground.

I just hope that when I show her who he really is, she won’t hate me for it in the end.