Page 17

CHAPTER 17

ARIELLA

I sank into the hard plastic chair and flipped open my laptop, the screen creating a barrier between me and the rest of the world. From the top row, I had a perfect view of every exit and every face.

The classroom buzzed with morning chaos. Professor Adams adjusted his bow tie at the lectern, scanning the room with eyes that seemed to pause a second too long on empty seats.

I slumped lower, aiming for invisibility. Partly because my head still throbbed with each heartbeat—a souvenir from whatever happened Friday night. But mostly because the assigned textbook reading remained untouched in my bag, its pages as mysterious to me as the missing hours from Friday night.

Fragments of the night flashed behind my eyes, but not enough to piece together what actually happened.

I remembered talking to Cody, but I didn't remember he was going to email me pictures until I opened my computer and saw the email at the end of my last class. This was another reason I chose to sit in the back, so I could dig through these photos and see if I could find any of Kacie without anyone looking over my shoulder.

Dipping down a little lower in my seat, I hid behind my laptop as I clicked open the attachments of Cody's email.

"Holy shit," I whispered-groaned. There were two hundred and eighty pictures from that night. It would take me days to sift through these pictures. I clicked through the first dozen, none of which had any images of Kacie, until Professor Adams ended class fifteen minutes early, but I was thankful that I managed to make it through the entire class without being called on.

I closed my laptop and pushed back from the desk. The classroom emptied quickly—everyone eager to escape Adams and his monotone lecture. I joined the surge of bodies moving toward the exit, another anonymous face in the flow.

Classes were done for the day.

"Hey!" Mila's voice cut through the noise as she appeared beside me, slightly breathless. I continued walking because stopping wasn't an option in the crowded halls. For some reason, Hall B2 dismissed all of its classes at the same time. If you didn't move with the flow, you'd either get run over or cause a people jam. Mila managed to strong-arm her way through the crowd and step in beside me, matching my steps. "Where have you been all weekend? You didn't answer any of my calls."

"Apparently, those few shots I did were stronger than I thought." I kept my voice low, casual. "I slept all weekend."

Mila's pace faltered. Her brows pulled together, creating that little crease she got whenever something didn't add up.

"Shots?" The word hung between us, heavy with implication. "You don't remember what happened?"

I pursed my lips. Shook my head. Something cold slithered down my spine.

"Zaiden didn't tell you?"

"Zaiden?" My voice pitched higher than I intended, drawing glances from passing students

I lowered my voice to a hiss. "First, why would Zaiden tell me anything? Second, why would I talk to Zaiden? And third—" I counted on my fingers, "—I haven't seen Zaiden all weekend."

Mila's hand found my arm, her grip tightening. "Because you were drugged." Her eyes darted around, checking who might be listening. "And he protected you."

I halted so abruptly that someone behind me nearly slammed into my back. They swerved at the last moment, muttering something under their breath.

The hallway continued to empty around us, voices fading.

A laugh escaped me—high and brittle. "Zaiden?" My lip curled into a snarl. "Protected me?" I touched my fingers to my chest as I shook my head. "Yeah. No. Zaiden doesn't protect me. He wants to ruin me. So, if anyone—" I trailed off as my gaze lifted and zeroed in on Zaiden. "I'll meet you at practice."

"Ari!" Mila's voice faded behind me as I pushed through the thinning crowd.

I knew Zaiden better than anyone. The perfect student. The charming athlete. The vengeful enemy who had made it his mission to destroy me piece by piece. If anyone had drugged me, it was him—and I'd bet my scholarship he was already bragging about it.

I spotted him at the end of the corridor, his broad shoulders turned away from me. My heartbeat quickened, and each thud was a warning I chose to ignore. The crowd parted unconsciously as I moved through it, perhaps sensing the storm building inside me. Every step forward tightened the coil of rage in my chest until it threatened to spring loose.

He was laughing with Hawk and Creighton outside Professor Wilson's lecture hall, completely at ease as if he hadn't potentially assaulted me three nights ago.

My pulse thundered in my ears. Each step toward him felt like moving through cement, but I forced myself forward.

Creighton Vanderbilt was Westbrook's Hockey team's infamous goalie. He was tall with dark curly hair and dark eyes. His gaze lifted, spotting me storming toward them, warning Zaiden before I got there.

Zaiden twisted in time to see me throw out my hands, shoving them into his rock-hard chest. "Woah," Zaiden laughed. "Someone's mad I didn't call the morning after."

I shoved him again, my palms connecting with solid muscle. He didn't budge an inch. "What did you do to me?"

His eyes, cold and calculating, swept over me. "Do to you?" The smirk formed slowly. "I think you mean, what did you do to me?

"I didn't do anything to you." My voice dropped to a hiss as students slowed around us. "I don't even remember what happened."

"Don't worry, baby." He stepped closer, towering over me. "It was good for you."

The smirk on his face made my palm itch. One swift movement. That was all it would take.

He leaned in, voice just loud enough for nearby students to hear. "Wish I could say the same, but your pussy was a little too loose for me.

Creighton and Hawk's laughter cut through the hallway. A girl with a red backpack covered her mouth. Someone whispered behind me.

My cheeks heated, and my chest tightened with humiliation, and before I even knew what I was doing, my flat palm was flying across the air, but he was faster than me. He caught my wrist and jerked me into him. He dropped his face to mine, our noses nearly touching, and my pulse raced. "Don't ever. Do that. Again." He shoved me away, and I stumbled backward.

"You're a disgusting pig." The words tasted bitter, but not as bitter as the humiliation burning through me.

Creighton leaned against the wall, his perfect white smile spreading slowly. "Is that any way to talk to the man who gave you a mind-blowing orgasm?" Each word landed like a slap.

"If you want another one, you could just ask him." Hawk's eyes gleamed as they darted between Zaiden and me. He lowered his voice, drawing out the moment. "No need to be so aggressive. Or—" The pause stretched uncomfortably. "Is that y'all's thing?"

The circle of onlookers tightened around us. Someone snickered.

My lip curled up in disgust. "I would rather chew my own arm off and eat it than let him touch me."

"That's not what you were begging for the other night, princess."

"If I did anything, it was because you drugged me."

Creighton and Hawk shook their heads, but Zaiden's jaw flexed, and a look of irritation flashed across his face. "I don't have to drug girls, and I didn't drug you, but you should have a chat with your football buddies. EJ informed me you took X."

Confusion spread across my face. I would never take drugs. It wasn't my thing. I was a dancer and an athlete. I worked out four to five times a week, I ate healthy, and I didn't smoke or do drugs, but I did occasionally drink.

"They were going to rape you," Hawk added.

I shook my head. They were wrong. The football team had no reason to hurt me. "You are all so naive," I hissed as my gaze shifted to Zaiden. "The only person who wants to hurt me is you."

He stepped forward, eliminating the space between us in one fluid motion.

"You're right." His voice dropped to a whisper meant only for me. "I want to ruin you."

The eerie seriousness in his tone drained the oxygen from my lungs. The words weren't shouted for an audience or wrapped in his usual sarcasm. They were raw, honest, and terrifying because of it. The heat of his breath fanned across my face, carrying the faint scent of mint. Chills raced up my spine, spreading outward until my skin felt electrified.

Time seemed to stretch between us. Someone laughed nearby, the sound distant and muffled as though we existed in our own bubble of hatred. Or something else entirely.

He was so close that our chests nearly touched with each breath. His blue eyes held mine hostage. The corridor faded away until there was only him, only us, locked in this moment that felt too intimate for enemies.

I should step back. Create distance. Break whatever this was.

Instead, I squared my shoulders, tilting my chin up. His gaze dropped to my lips for the briefest second.

"I want to slowly take away every single thing that you love. I want to own you, but I didn't drug you, and I didn't force you to do anything you didn't want to."

He stepped back, reached into his pocket, and pulled out his phone. After a few clicks, he held it out.

My heart clenched as my eyes widened, and my jaw dropped as I watched myself completely naked, grinding myself over Zaiden. My moans echoed through the still mostly full hallway. I swatted at the phone, but he jerked it out of my grasp. "Stop it," I shouted, embarrassment coursing through me. My gaze flicked around. We had everyone's attention. "Zaiden, please," I pleaded.

"Damn, that's hot," Creighton purred. "I've never heard a girl sound like that before.

"And you never will," I shouted without a second thought about what I was saying. "Because your dick's too small to do anything but tickle a woman." I had no idea what Creighton's dick looked like, but I was angry.

"Ouch," Creighton laughed, clutching his heart sarcastically.

Zaiden increased the volume. My recorded moans echoed through the hallway, growing louder with each second. Students slowed their pace, heads turning our way. Phones appeared in their hands.

He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. "As you can see," he whispered, "that was all you. You used me to get off."

My recorded voice climbed toward release. I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't look away from the screen.

Just before the final moment, he cut the video. His eyes locked with mine. "See you later, Ariella."

Something fractured inside me. My hands trembled first, then my arms. Rage and humiliation collided in my chest as tears threatened to spill. Not here. Not in front of him. Not in front of everyone.

"Hey, Ari," Hawk shouted loud enough to draw more attention to us. "Next time you need a lap to get off on, call me."

"Fuck you, Hawk." I raised my middle finger, holding his gaze while conversations died around us.

Then I walked away. One foot in front of the other. Shoulders back. Head high.

Every step felt like walking through fire, but I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing me run.