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“Shut up!” he shouts, shaking me to the core as his muscular body vibrates with pure rage over me. “Don’t fucking talk to me about humiliation. I’ve lived it. I am living it!”
He crouches down until we’re eye level and he pinches my chin with his fingers, pulling me forward. “But don’t you worry, Freckles. I have every intention of getting my revenge. That video is proof that I own you in every way, shape, and form.” His fingers loosen to slide down my throat, making me swallow.
“You fuck up again, it will go viral. Your days of dancing on fucking countertops are done. And if I hear the word ‘no’ come out of your mouth when I tell you to do something,” his hand flexes against my throat, fingers curling around it in clear warning as he whispers in my face, “I’ll personally email it to the admissions office at Stanford.”
I’m speechless. Utterly lost for words because there is nothing I can say to make this go away. I can’t take back what I did and I can’t save Rome from what happened after. So, I sit here, a shriveled-up mess while Rome spits threats at me.
As long as that video exists, I’m powerless. Not to mention, Rome said he’d tell the whole school that I called the cops on him that night, and they’ll surely turn against me. I have no choice but to fall in line now.
I’m not one to cower, but if he turned the school against me, I have no doubt half of the students would go out of their way to make sure Stanford was just a distant memory for me. One wrong move, and the future I mapped out for myself will be derailed.
“What do you want from me?” I whisper just loud enough for him to hear me. I shiver at the thought of what his response will be, but I have to prepare myself.
He leans closer, his breath fanning my face. “Everything.” His fingers squeeze around my throat until tears burn my eyes.
I gulp, unsure what he means, but knowing Rome, it can’t be good. His eyes watch me carefully before he lets go and places his arms on either side of me, trapping me like a caged animal.
“I want your mind, your body, and your soul. Once I’ve secured that, I want you to fix the damage you’ve done. I don’t care how you do it, but get it done.”
Goosebumps erupt over my body in fear and maybe even because of something else I refuse to acknowledge. I can give Rome my body. I don’t want to, but it’s his for the taking if that’s what keeps that video out of the public eye. My mind is already consumed with thoughts of him because he’s made sure of it. My soul will be crushed without Stanford. But there is no way I can fix the damage I’ve done.
“That’s impossible, Rome. I'm nobody. How am I supposed to fix this?”
“You’re the key witness that was missing when my case went to trial. You're a smart girl, Freckles.” He bops my nose and I wanna grab his hand and bite it. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. After all, you want to go into law. Prove to me that I should let you have that chance by finding a way to fix what you broke.”
He’s right. I am a key witness. A thought pops into my head and I jolt forward, forcing Rome to inch back. “I think I have an idea,” I tell him.
My mom! She’s the district attorney. She wasn’t when this case was handled, but she is now. I’ve been studying for pre-law since I was a sophomore and one thing I know is the district attorney can do just about anything when it comes to cases in his or her county. There has to be some way she can help.
“Good. Just get it done.” He stands again and peers down at me. “Now, go take a shower, you smell like bad choices. Once you finish breakfast, we’re going for a ride.”
“A ride where?”
“You’ll see.” Rome walks back up the stairs, leaving me with my thoughts. I think back to a textbook I read about key witnesses and how they can affect the sentencing. My headache subsides slightly when I finally feel a bit of hope that I can turn this situation around. Surely my mom will help. But before I talk to her, I need to figure out exactly what transpired that night.
Standing, I make my way upstairs on shaky legs and vow to never drink again. I have no idea what was in that cup, but the way I feel now was not worth the five minutes that my brain quieted down.
I grab a piece of greasy bacon on my way through the kitchen and eat it on my walk to my bedroom. I was lucky enough to avoid my mom and Grant so far this morning. And there were only a few laughs about my night from Brogan and Lake.
I just jabbed my middle finger in the air and ignored them, trying not to get pissy with Brogan for not trying to stop what happened. I know I am responsible for my own actions, and I drank when I’m a known lightweight. I just can’t help but wonder where she was if she wasn’t out there where everyone could see me dancing on the damn counter.
After a quick shower, I feel a little bit better, but my head still feels like it’s been inflated with air. At least I’ve washed off the bad choices, as Rome called them. Man, he can be such an ass. I know I fucked up, but in my defense, I had no idea one drink would mess me up that bad.
Opting for comfort today, I’m sporting a pair of black sweats and an oversized gray hoodie as I search the house for Wilder. Sayer said he was doing something outside that he didn’t know how to explain.
I finally find him in the backyard, recording himself doing some crazy-ass dance, and suddenly Sayer makes more sense. I don’t ask any questions because I’m pretty sure it’s for his social media. I also don’t want to embarrass him because I need him to give me some clarity.
“Wilder.” I tap him on the shoulder as his fingers move around on the screen. His head shoots up and he spins around. “Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Damn, Elodie.” He winces, his eyebrows pinching as he takes me in. “You look like shit.”
I comb my fingers through my hair. “I know. Rough night.”
And I thought Rome was the asshole.
He tries not to smile, but I notice the way his lips crack. “So I’ve heard.”
“Let's all just forget about last night.” My cheeks heat up and I would love nothing more than to just sink six feet into the ground. “Anyway, I was hoping I could ask you some questions about Rome.”
