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As I climb into Luke’s car, that nasty feeling you get when something’s about to go wrong toys with my emotions. I’m not sure how we can fail, but on the off chance we do…I can’t even think about that. I need to keep my head in the game. Remember, I’m not just getting justice for Karly, but now for the man I could possibly be in love with. The man I falsely accused of being a monster, when in actuality I was sharing a bed with the real boogeyman.
“It’s gonna be okay, Zara. I promise he won’t touch you at all,” Luke reassures me. Smiling weakly at him, I turn my head to stare out the window at the buildings passing in the darkness.
“I just want to get it done. The thought of being in the same room as him gives me the creeps. Do you think we can make it fast?”
“Depends on how convincing you are,” he states flatly. He’s right. I have to give the impression that I’m totally into him so nobody in the party thinks it’s a setup. Especially Dillon.
Taking the flask full of whiskey out of my purse, I chug a huge mouthful. On an ordinary day, a swallow wouldn’t do anything for me, but I haven’t eaten and the warm honey liquid hits harshly in the pit of my stomach, inducing an almost immediate buzz.
“Okay, I’m good. Let’s just get in and out. Take what we need and we’ll go from there,” I say, courage surging through me.
I put away the flask and pull out my phone, typing out a quick message to Noah.
Me: This is all for show. It’ll all be over soon.
Noah: Don’t think about it. Just do what you came to do.
A sense of relief washes over me. Whereas I couldn’t tell Dillon my plans for Noah, I can be completely open with Noah about anything. He understands the parts of me that I don’t even understand myself. Heather was right, he’s the absolute best. And the greatest part of all of it…he’s mine. I just hope after tonight he’ll be able to see through all the ugly parts of what brought us together and still feel the same…even be able to love me.
Luckily we find a parking spot within a block of the party that’s already in full swing. The cheers of drunk frat boys and the squeals of the vapid sorority girls echo throughout the entire neighborhood. I get out of the car and wait for Luke to join me. Hand in hand, we make our way up the sidewalk. Just before we enter, he adjusts something on his chest. When I stare at him, questioning his actions, he points between his pecs and mouths “wire.” I should have known.
As soon as we walk through the front doors, I’m reminded why I’m not much of a partier. The music is too loud, the smoke is too thick, and the scents of cheap perfume and stale beer have me ready to vomit, but still I hold my head high and keep moving.
“Breathe,” Luke reminds me, and I’m thankful. I wasn’t aware I was holding my breath until I took that next inhalation and my lungs burned. I’m not sure if I’m strong enough for this.
Yes, you are. You have no choice. This is a mess that only you can fix.
Straightening my spine, I hold my head high and continue walking through the living room, through the throngs of people flailing about to the toxic-to-my-senses music, and enter the kitchen. As if Moses parted the Red Sea, everyone clears a path so the first pair of eyes I connect with are Dillon’s. His jaw tight, he bores his angry brown eyes into me and holds my gaze. Remembering Luke’s earlier advice, I breathe, shallowly, but I’m at least not going to pass out. Thankfully the blood’s rushing so quickly in my ears that I can’t make out the nasty things that people are most likely saying about me while they’re whispering to one another.
Luke slaps hands with some other guys and hugs a few girls, all while I’m holding his hand so tightly, I’m sure they’re going to fuse together at some point. As we move across the kitchen, Dillon rounds the island, holding a red cup full of beer, and stands before us.
“What’s this shit about?” he asks Luke, gesturing to me.
“Figured since you were done with her, I could have a shot,” he replies, nonchalant. I’ve come to know Luke isn’t one of those guys determined to screw as many coeds as possible, but he sure does play the act fairly well.
“You know she’s damaged, right? Kind of a wack job? And a pretty lousy lay, too.” I want nothing more than to take off my six-inch pump and bash him in the eyeball, but I refrain and act like I don’t hear them. Putting on my act as well, I dance in place to the music and smile sweetly at the passing girls.
Luke just laughs. “I’ll catch up with you later, man. I promised Zara a good time and I want to give her the full experience,” he says to Dillon, then turns to me. “Ready to dance, beautiful?”
“Of course,” I say, my words sounding convincing.
Back in the living room, I can still feel Dillon’s eyes on me, but I refocus my attention on Luke. He promised to keep me safe. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt me, especially Dillon. Part of our plan is to make Dillon think that Luke and I are actually together, and I have to portray that if we’re going to get anywhere.
So as Luke holds me at a distance, dancing to a slow melody, I pull myself closer so there isn’t an inch between us. Flipping my back to his front, I slowly grind on him, wrap my arms backward around his neck, and rest my head on his chest. I try to let the music wash over me, but now that the whiskey’s doing its job and I feel more comfortable with Luke, I can finally hear the crude comments coming from the onlookers.
“Dude, Dillon said she was a bit of a slut. I’d be willing to give her a shot.”
“I can see why Bain threw everything away for a night with her. I’d do the same.”
“What a fucking skank. Wasn’t she just fucking Bain last week?”
“Luke, let me holler at you real quick.” That voice. I recognize it. My eyes fly open and see none other than Dillon in front of me.
“What’s up? I’m not leaving her out here with the leeches.”
“Dude, come on. Trust me, she’ll be fine.”
Luke nods and grips my hip, letting me know he’ll be right back. As he starts to walk away, a noticeably drunk frat guy comes up to me and grabs on to my waist, pulling me toward his pathetic excuse for an erection, grinding it into my hip.
