AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Turns out, Netflix came up with tons of decent shows since I stopped subscribing to the service. Wary of starting a binge session and staying longer than I intend to, I opt for one of their original movies rather than a show, but scrolling, I make a mental note to sign up again.
After the AC broke in the trailer earlier this year, I eliminated any unnecessary expenses, but I can afford fifteen bucks a month now.
When he offers a beer, I accept it. “So long as the cap’s still on,” I add, narrowing my eyes at him.
He huffs, unbothered. “You think I’d roofie you?”
I shrug. He just kidnapped me, for Christ’s sake. Not to mention, he dragged me into the house when I wanted to go back.
“Morgan, why would I want to fuck you while you’re out of it? You and I both know if I wanted to force you, I could do it right now, and there’s nothing you could do to stop me.”
I want to lash out at him, but he walks out of the room, leaving me to stew over his words on his ridiculously comfortable but boring sofa.
My conclusion isn’t reassuring. He’s right. He’s bigger and stronger than me, as he’s reminded me several times today. Nothing is stopping him from holding me down and taking what I’m not offering. I shamefully have to admit that there’s a chance I wouldn’t fight him as much as I should, but even if I did, if I clawed and punched and screamed, he’d still overpower me. And I could report him, but when has that ever benefited poor victims over wealthy white boys with “so much potential”? Even if by some miracle his army of lawyers don’t win his case, he’d get a slap on the wrist at best.
Iamat his mercy. The only reason why he’s not raping me is because he doesn’t want to.
Camden comes back and hands me a can of beer—unopened. I want to refuse it on principle, but if I have to put up with him, I might as well be tipsy. He sits by my side on the sofa, but there’s a good foot and a half between us, and he doesn’t try to crowd me.
As the minutes bleed into one another, I relax, either because the movie’s fun, because I’m a lightweight, or because Camden doesn’t try anything. He doesn’t even speak to me, though I do catch him looking at me a few times.
We’re almost done watching Sherlock Holmes’s little sister butcher her way through an investigation in silence, when the door opens up behind us. I tense on the sofa and sit up, feeling like a wild animal freaking at the sound of a gunshot. I don’t know what—who—to expect when the footsteps and banter approach the lounge.
The two guys who tend to gravitate around Camden appear: Roman Greene and Rhys Voss.
I breathe out in relief. No trace of Aryan Montgomery, or anyone else from that night.
I ease up a little. They’re still Camden’s people, but those two haven’t done anything to me.
Yet.
“Is that a chick, Camden?” Roman, the shorter and bulkier of the two, grins at me. “You said no chicks in the house unless it’s for a party.”
“His words were norandomchick,” Rhys replies before Camden says a word. “This is Morgan.”
I didn’t even realize he knew my name. We might have been part of Erica’s wedding party, but these two and I never exchanged a word.
“How is Morgan not a random chick?” Roman has the gall to wink at me. “No offense.”
“Oh, I’m offended,” I retort.
Rhys chuckles, and offers me his hand. I stare at it for a little too long before shaking it tentatively. “Seamless job with the Montgomery system. In and out, no trace. If you hadn’t sent that email, they never would have caught you.”
I shrug, choosing not to take his comment as a question, though he’s asking several things—how I learned to hack, how I got through the system, why I was dumb enough to use my own email rather than send my thread anonymously.
“This is my cousin, Roman. I’m—”
“We’ve lived in the same town for nineteen years, Rhys. I know who you are.” I get to my feet, turning to Camden. “I would like to go home now.”
“It’s late. LA’s two hours away. Stay the night.”
I laugh out loud. He’s joking, right?
Of course he isn’t.
“If you think, for one second, I’d sleep in your house, you’re deluded. I’d rather stay on the street.” And I wouldn’t have to.
I am home, after all.
