I start from the beginning, recounting every last detail. The officers nod and continue taking all my information as I talk. As I speak of the incident inside the bedroom, one of the officers interrupts me.
“Do you know this person? The man that attacked you?”
I nod, my throat tightening. Deep down, I’m not sure I have anything to be scared of when it comes to Parker. Yes, he’s vicious, and he terrified me last night, but it was nothing more than a bully tactic. He made threats, but he didn’t actually hurt me. Not like he could’ve. Not like I know he wanted to.
“Who is he?”
My lips tremble, “Parker Rothschild.”
As soon as his name has fallen from my lips, both officers freeze. Officer Healy stops writing mid-word, putting the pencil down on the desk. Officer Walden stops typing, his fingers hovering over the keyboard unmoving. They both glance at each other, some silent conversation happening between them before Healy returns his attention back to me.
“Are you sure this is who you saw? You said it was dark.”
“Yes, I’m positive. I know Parker, I’ve known him and his family for years. It was him. I know it was him.”
“Mhm…” Walden rubs his chin as if he is thinking about how to get rid of me, while his colleague rips the page he has been writing on from his notebook and starts ripping it up.
What the hell?
“I don’t think we’ll be able to help you with this, Miss Bradford. You said it yourself, it was dark and no one else was there. Who is to say you didn’t make the whole thing up? You don’t even have any bruises.”
With my mouth hanging open, I sit there staring at them, dumbfounded. Is this happening, or is this just part of the nightmare? Maybe I’m still asleep, unable to wake up.
“I think it’s in your best interest if you just forget about the whole thing.”
I rear back as if he’s slapped me. “In my best interest?”
“Best for everybody, you included. Don’t make this hard on yourself. Just let it go.”
Just let it go? What is wrong with these people? I just told them I was attacked in my room, and they tell me to let it go?
“Now if you would excuse us, we have some work to finish up,” he dismisses me like I’ve been nothing more than wasting his time.
I want to cry. I want to cry so badly, but I won’t, not here. Rubbing at the corner of my eye to hide the tears, I stare at the two men.
“You have to help me. Someone has to help me. How am I supposed to be safe at the dorms? How am I supposed to sleep at night knowing he can walk in whenever he wants to? This is wrong, and you both know it.” My voice cracks, and it feels like something inside me does too. Like I’m breaking, fracturing down the middle.
“We can’t help you. Now, please leave, Miss Bradford,” Officer Healy orders, and for half a second, all I can do is sit there staring hopelessly at the two officers. How is this possible? How can he get away with this? He isn’t god, he doesn’t own this school, but the officers are acting like he does.
Without another word, I get up and shuffle out of the room, my feet gliding across the floor as I force myself out of the office.
Fear and disappointment reside deep in my gut, but so does anger. It burns through me, and with clenched fists, I march back to my dorm. I hold on to that anger and let it drive me. If the officers can’t or won’t help me, then I’ll have to find a way to help myself. I’m not my sister. I’m not weak.
If Parker wants me to leave, he’s going to have to do more than scare me.
4
Parker
Walking into advanced American literature, I peer around the room to see who is here that I know. One sweep of the area and all I find are some girls who look vaguely familiar. They bat their eyelashes, and on autopilot, I smile at them. Not going there.
Grumbling under my breath, I rake a hand through my black hair and take a seat in the back of the room, hoping none of those chicks decide to get up and follow me. All they’re going to do is get on my nerves, making this already long class, longer.
Over the course of a few minutes, the room starts to fill, more and more fellow Blackthorn students walk in. Before I know it, the only open seat left is the one next to me. When the professor finally starts talking, thank fuck, the seat remains empty, I sigh, sagging down into my chair.
Opening my notebook, I grab a pen and prepare myself for a ninety-minute lecture.
“Everyone open your books and take a look at chapter two, so we can—” The professor is interrupted by the creaking of the door. All heads lift, including my own, to see who the hell is walking in, late for the class.
“I’m so sorry, I couldn’t find the building,” Willow apologizes, stepping over the threshold and into the classroom. Even across the room, I can feel her. The pull she has on me. It’s magnetic, sinister. Being near her is like sticking my finger into a light socket. It thrills me, excites me, but at the same time is dangerous.
I wasn’t sure if she’d left after I cornered her in her room. Part of me hoped she would, but the other part… a much larger part hoped she would still be here.
“I’ll give you a pass since it’s the first day, but don’t let it happen again,” Professor Wade warns. Willow nods as she looks up, and into the crowd, most likely trying to find a seat. Her eyes scan the classroom and land on me half a second later. Even from across the room, I can see her swallow thickly, and I can’t help but grin, amused by the way I make her uncomfortable. Good, fear me. It’s better than the alternative.
Two crimson splotches appear on her cheeks, and I wonder if it’s because she’s embarrassed or if it’s because she’s realized that she has no choice but to sit beside me. Is she scared? Curious? I’m half expecting her to turn around and run out of the room, but to my surprise, she does the opposite. She walks to the back of the room with her head held high, a mask sliding on her face.
Oh, she wants to play that game? I can’t help but grin, can’t help but feel that distinct tingling in my gut, the one I used to get when I’d watch her, when I’d think about kissing her, deflowering her. She was my obsession, and now she would become my retribution.
Without ever making eye contact, she sits down next to me, gets her textbook out of her oversized designer purse, and opens it up. My jaw ticks as the seconds pass, and the temperature in the room spikes. Jesus, is it fucking hot in here? I can feel her body heat seeping into me, and we aren’t even touching.
Her sweet scent fills my nostrils as I suck a labored breath into my lungs. She doesn’t smell like all the other girls. Like high designer perfume that clings to every pore on your body. No, Willow smells divine like jasmine and vanilla. Pure. Naive. And all at once, I find the organ between my legs growing hard with need for the one person I shouldn’t want. Teeth grinding together, I grip the pen in my hand hard enough to break it.
Why her? Why am I drawn to her? Why do I want her? I hate her as much as I want her, and I don’t understand why. She’s a liar, a fucking liar, and she cost my brother everything because she opened her mouth and spread lies. I bite back a growl, covering it with a cough. Professor Wade continues talking, but I don’t hear a word he says. I can’t think, focus, or even breathe with the lying temptress beside me.