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“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are—”
I shoved him. Right in the chest, both hand flat against his shirt, with all my might.
No one, and I mean no one, called me a bitch—especially a lying bitch—and got away with it. Chance—or whatever the hell his stupid name was—the fucking hot cowboy I’d wanted for over a year, was now dead to me.
As he stumbled back inside the fraternity from the force of my shove, I poked my finger at his nose and followed him in, staying in his face so he would remember everything I had to say.
“I am Bailey Fucking Prescott, you asshole. And no one calls me a lying bitch. You want to see a lying bitch, why don’t you talk to your sister, because she fucking lied out her pretty, straight lying teeth. Beck didn’t touch a hair on her head. I was there. I saw everything that happened, and he did not rape her. End of story.”
He grabbed my hand. Hard. Like hard enough to hurt and make me gasp as my bones just seemed to crumple together under the force of his grip.
“Listen here, bitch.” He forced me backward right out the door with the force of his hold on my hand alone. “You don’t come here and talk about my sister like that. Someone needs to set you straight and shut your big, fucking lard-ass mouth permanently because Melody would never—”
“Hey, hey, hey!” Some guy jumped between us and manually nudged the cowboy away from me. “Take it easy, man.”
“Get this stupid, fat cunt out of my face!” Pointing at me over the interloper’s shoulder, he cleared the phlegm from his throat and spat at my eyes.
It went into one, splattered across my nose and some even went up my nostrils.
Gasping and shuddering from the utter grossness of it all, I squeezed my eyes shut and lifted my hands blindly, gagging out my horror.
Before I could see again, the fraternity door slammed shut. I didn’t realize the other frat boy had stayed outside with me until he said, “Here,” and a piece of cotton cloth was shoved into my hand.
I had no idea if it was a tissue, used underwear, or what, but I gratefully said, “Thank you,” and wiped the slime off my face.
Sure, I’d always dreamed of swapping spit with my cowboy, but this wasn’t exactly how I’d pictured it going down.
“Are you okay?”
I finished cleaning up my face, then blew out a breath and batted the wrinkles out of my shirt, straightened my spine and brushed some stray moisture from my eyes. Not sure why they were wet to begin with, but whatever. Then I blew out a big breath before lifting my face and saying, “Of course I’m fine.”
I was.
Really.
Not.
Then I narrowed my eyes and sent a contemptuous glare toward the closed door. “But that bastard’s definitely not my soulmate anymore, that’s for damn sure.”
They guy who’d saved me blinked. “What?” He had shaggy blond hair and a wrinkled shirt with blue jeans and work boots. I frowned at him a moment, thinking he looked a little too farm boy to be in a fraternity. Then I shook my head.
“Nothing.”
He watched me a moment before shoving his hands into his pockets and shivering from the cold. “What you just said.” He motioned over his shoulder with his thumb. “To Chance. About seeing what happened with Beck. Was that true?”
I scowled. “Of course it was true. Why would I lie about that?” Did he know a lot of girls who openly confessed to being voyeurs?
The guy shrugged and looked momentarily thoughtful, but not in a good way, like my news disturbed him. “Beck was never the type, you know, to force a girl. I don’t think I every really, fully believed he’d rape anyone. But if it’s true, and he’s really innocent…” He shook his head. “Then Beck is fucking screwed. They’ll never let him back in the fraternity, and Chance…Chance’ll be gunning for him. He’d never believe anything bad about his sister.”
Yeah, I’d kind of caught on to that fact about good old Chance. I wiped at my face again, feeling phantom traces of spit still on my cheek. “Well, it sounds like Beck’s screwed then. Because he totally didn’t rape her.” My shoulders sagged. “He really hasn’t been released from jail yet? I went to the police hours ago with my story. I would’ve thought they’d let him go by now.”
The blonde fraternity dude shook his head. “I haven’t heard about him being released. And if he does get free, he won’t be welcome back here. It wouldn’t matter if he was innocent or not. This has caused too much damaged to our name.” He looked worried as he said that, but I had the feeling he wouldn’t go out of his way to help his friend Beck, either.
Poor Beck.
I took a step back, ready to get away from this place. “Well, thanks again for the…” I finally looked down at what I was holding and blinked at the red and white hanky. It was exactly like the one my dad always carried.
What the hell was this preppy frat boy doing, carrying around something that was so country?
