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“I can’t just stay here,” I protested.
“All your stuff is already here,” Wes pointed out, and Lars nodded.
Ben stopped pacing, relief cloaking him. “Thanks, bros. I appreciate it.”
“Can’t I just stay with you?” I asked, slight panic edging my tone.
Ben’s demeanor softened when his attention turned to me. “I’d like that, baby, but off campus is better.”
I glanced at Matt for help, but he agreed with Ben. Traitor.
“Bro, you can stay here too,” Win told Ben.
“Really?” he asked.
“Beats sleeping in your Audi at the curb,” Jamie said.
My brows drew downward. “What makes you think he’d do that?”
All the men in the room laughed as though they had some sort of secret.
“Idiots,” Madison muttered.
“Nothing wrong with a man wanting to protect his girl,” Jamie said, tugging her into his lap.
My eyes drifted back to Ben, and his were already on me.
He nodded. “I’m staying.”
23
Kruger
By the time we hauled Jess’s stuff upstairs into Wes’s old bedroom—he roomed with Max now—and everyone left, it was late, the sky long dark. And while everything around us calmed down, everything inside me was more stirred up than ever.
I’d been holding back a lot of my personal reactions to finding Jess locked in a washing machine, watching her spill out, sputtering, half-drowned, and scared to death. I didn’t share my thoughts while sitting with her at the hospital and through being questioned by the cops, all the while knowing if we’d been just a couple minutes later, she might be dead.
No matter how many times I went over it, I couldn’t figure out who would do this. Or why.
It was making me crazy. Making me doubt myself. Was there something going on in her life I hadn’t known about? Did she have some sort of relationship with someone I didn’t know—someone who was now trying to hurt her?
I couldn’t even ask Jess because she didn’t know either.
I was operating in the dark, balancing between truth and lies. Guilt and responsibility chewed on my conscience, making me prickly and on edge.
What a fucking clusterfuck. And I had no idea how to fix any of it. The only thing I knew for sure was that whoever was trying to hurt my girl was going to fucking pay.
“Ben?” she called as though she knew I was spiraling inward and wanted to bring me back.
I turned to where she sat on the foot of the bed, plaid blankets beneath her, her long legs stretching far enough so her feet rested on the floor.
Her long brown hair was rumpled from everything and cascaded over her shoulders in tangled waves, and her cheeks were still pale.
“I’m gonna take the couch.” I pointed to the door, a lump in my throat.
Surprise flitted through her expression. “The couch?”
“Mm.” I agreed.
