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“And did you?” he asked.
“Tituss.”
He slammed his fists down on the desk, and I tried not to jerk, but I did. He asked again, “Did you? Did you stop? Yes or no, Harper. Did you?”
“No!” I shouted back at him. I was a bundle of nerves and energy. I didn’t assault him, though. He was my boyfriend. I only touched him. He thought we would get caught, but I knew we wouldn’t. He liked it. He wanted it. He—
“So why the fuck are we the ones carrying the charges when from the beginning, you were the one leading the charge? Is life hard for you, Harper? Was it tough to write your personal essay about an obstacle in your life you had to overcome and how you did that? Did you write about me? Us? The three athletes with real prospects assaulting you.” He snorted a laugh. “As if I pushed you onto that bed. As if they barged in and whipped out cameras to record it all. None of it happened that way. We were in our room. Our hotel room. They came by to see if we wanted to go out with them, and you stepped out of the bathroom and said…what did you say again?”
My whole body was flushed with embarrassment and regret. In a small voice that I hated, I said, “Close the door.”
“And why?” he asked.
“Because I wanted them to watch us.” I wasn’t a shrinking violet, and I was tired of this feeling of being dirty or wrong for wanting what I wanted. I looked him in the eyes as I said, “I wanted them to want me while you had me. I wanted to feel desired, and I wanted you to feel special because you could have me. I was yours. And—”
“I feel really fucking special, Harper.” He tapped the stack and said, “You need to read all of this because I think you are missing some key details about consent. About saying yes. When you sign that document, you pretty much say yes to anything we want to do to you that does not involve breaking your limbs or marking up your body with anything permanent. That is unless, of course, you agree to clause 5.”
My eyes must have shown my shock. He nodded. “Oh yeah. You want to run with the elite, poor girl? Maybe your bestie out there will lend you her daddy’s lawyer to negotiate on your behalf. Every girl in that line had a lawyer look this over for them.”
He stood up and walked to look out the window and said, “Or maybe not since I told her not to talk to you.” He turned and looked at me. I knew this because I could not take my eyes off of him. He snorted a laugh and said, “Maybe you could call the one from the case, right? Tell her you need to negotiate the terms of your bondage with your assailant so he can officially, legally, have dubious consent.” His expression hardened, and he said it simply and in a way the boy I knew back then would never have the ability to express, “You can leave, right now, Harper. But if you stay, you sign those papers, I fucking own you. So, you really need to think about it.” He rolled a shoulder and said, “You can stay in this room. It’s got a camera so I can see anything you do. You can’t take those papers out of here. You obviously didn’t go over them with a lawyer weeks ago. The whole flyer thing is a ruse. It’s just a means of covering the truth up. It’s why they were recruited. Told what to say, do. You…” He snorted a laugh. “Just went looking for trouble.”
I walked over to the stack and picked up the ink pen and then the papers as I said, “Actually, when I saw your name on the flyer…I just came looking for you.”
“I don’t fucking belong to you, Harper.” He was pissed at the idea when a couple years ago, he said it to me all the time. I’m yours. I’m yours, Harpy. I love you. I looked at his retreating frame and tried not to jolt at the slam of the door. They took him from me. I realized that now. What he seemed to forget was simple. He’s mine.
I took my time reading through the documents. I wished I had my phone, but no place to put it, so it was on top of my wet clothes in the plastic bag on a chair in the laundry room. That was how crazy this whole day had been. My phone, along with my ID, one credit card with a very low limit, and forty bucks since that was all tucked into the little wallet attached to the case, was loose in this frat house. I really hoped none of those bitches were put on laundry duty before they left today. They all knew I didn’t belong here and would likely steal from me just to remind me that it would hurt. And it would. I had a meager budget to live on.
I initialed another spot. They all thought I didn’t belong here. One more place on another page got a scribble. I looked at the one about exhibitionism and smirked. I probably should have been here sooner. These guys didn’t know what they wanted. They thought they did.
Thought they wanted control over a female. Complete control, but one thing I knew from growing up, from observations, was simple. The average man can’t handle the responsibility that comes along with being in control of someone’s life. It’s why more women raise children. It’s why more women handle the home, even if they are working, going to school, raising children. Men can barely handle the one job they have in addition to some chores here and there.
My mom tried to rely on my father, and then she tried to make me rely on Tituss. Then when she realized his parents hated me, actively planned to send him across the country for college to get him away from me, she told our principal about what she read about prom in my diary. I shook my head, focused on the document in my hand. I wrote a lot about us in that book. It was in an evidence locker, and I wasn’t sure when, if, I would ever get it back, but I wanted it.
My diary was filled with amazing details. This stupid contract had more warnings than a new drug label. No, I did not need them to be in charge of my nutrition. Yes, I understood if I got too thin or too fat, then I would need to meet with a nutritionist and follow the plan. Apparently, it was a vote, and the house leader made the call. What a hardship to get a nutritionist and personal trainer, too. They really scared me with the thought of having a cook, though. Seriously? Some of this shit made it look like I was signing up for a luxury cruise rather than servitude.
Then it got to the more intimate details, and that was also when the door opened. I looked at the bag of fast food in Dane’s right hand, and my stomach growled loud enough we both heard it. His brow arched, and he said, “Right on time then.”
I felt my face flush with embarrassment and looked at the clock on the wall. “Holy shit.”
“I put your clothes in my room. Phone, too. Cassidy brought them up with my towels.” Dane handed me the bag, and I put the documents aside on the end table next to me. I had been sitting on this large, leather couch for almost three hours, going through this never-ending legal document. The couch was so comfortable, I hadn’t noticed the time. I imagined the room had to be built around the damn thing because it seemed too big to get in or out of the door. I looked toward the windows and realized they were huge and low, so maybe it came in through there.
I accepted the bag as the man in front of me eyed the papers. Did he want me to be here or not? A bit of an enigma. I really couldn’t tell.
Chapter Four
Dane
Harper looked up at me and said, “Thanks.”
I got the appeal. Her physical appearance is a little better than average, but she’s not exactly turning heads by showing off her assets. She’s got plenty of ass and boob to show if she wanted to. Unlike the other girls who arrived today, she wasn’t doing that. Then, when she walked into that room looking like she was…ravenous, unhinged, something…I was interested. She’s different, and I’ve been spoon-fed spoiled, groomed girls my whole life. I understood within moments how Tituss had fallen for this one. Completely understood why, whether he could admit it or not, he was still on his knees for this one. He never got back up from that fall. He sort of…lifted but never quite stood.
I looked at the remaining sheets and leaned enough I could see where she was in the contract. Harper stuffed three fries in her mouth on top of the big bite of burger she had taken. I honestly only brought it in here to prove to myself I was not crazy. She really was not one of them. None of the girls in that other room would be eating burgers and fries, and this one was practically about to choke on it if she ate any faster.
I ignored the sensations that surged through me at the thought of her stuffing me into that mouth, swallowing me back, down, choking on it. I tapped the document and asked, “No questions?”
“You a lawyer?” she asked as she pulled the straw into her mouth. She is so fucking ungraceful it’s alarming. All that was missing at this point was a loud belch.
“It’s in my future.” I rolled a shoulder. “Family firm and all.”
