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I thought I knew what fear was. I was proven wrong on that night so many months ago. Then I thought I would never have to face that bone chilling, heart stopping feeling again. Yet, here I am. Not for the first time this semester, my whole body aches with the overwhelming helpless feeling.
I take out my cell and fire off a quick text to Shelby, letting her know I don’t feel so good and that I am going to be spending the night at Carson’s. When she replies telling me to feel better and that she will miss me, guilt churns inside of me, but this is for the best. One less person I’ll have to protect from my stark reality.
Now I just need something to help me survive the anger I saw blazing in his eyes even as he whispered sweet words to me. I check my purse, pulling it out and fishing out my fake ID, smiling when I find it’s still in great condition. Zaiden got it for me a couple of summers ago when we were on vacation. The memory of it makes me feel sick and I have to fight the tears that are now ready to fall as I think about how much I miss my easy friendship with all of them. I had to fight the blush when he handed it over and said I was the hottest twenty-two year old he’d ever seen mixed with his signature flirty wink. I choke back tears at just how different my circumstances are for needing this stupid card of plastic now versus back then. I was so stupid, so innocent as I laughed with him and it slipped it into my wallet.
I don’t waste any time, I head straight to a liquor store just off campus and feel grateful in the fact it is game day and the streets surrounding BSU are quiet and calm. Once I am inside, I head to the liquor section and survey my options. I don’t even really know what I like. The guys have always been the ones to provide the alcohol. Ashton makes a mean mixed drink but I can’t even begin to guess what he puts in it. I let my eyes roam over to the beer selection. I know I like Mango Cart, the cans are hard to forget, but I’m going to need something stronger than that. I turned back to the liquor and my eyes catch on a familiar bottle. Whiskey. I’ve seen the guys drink this one before. I don’t know if I’ve ever had it before but beggars can’t be choosers. Anything is better than sober.
I head to the register to find a young girl texting on her phone and barely paying any attention to me, and when I flash her my fake ID, she barely even looks. With a quick exchange of cash, and a nod of her head, I am back on my way with my new friend in hand.
A new type of nerve buzz along my skin. I have only ever really drank when I was around the guys because I knew they would look after me. Yesterday with Shelby was the first time I had been buzzed without them, but the floaty feeling was the most peaceful thing I’ve felt since coming here. It may not be the smartest plan, but I liked that feeling a hell of a lot more than the anxiety swirling through me. And right now I can’t think of anything else that will help me.
It feels stupid and pathetic but when I remember how his cock felt forcing its way down my throat, I snap open the seal and force down a large gulp until the burning chases it away. I cough as the whiskey takes me by surprise. I pull a face as I stare at the bottle.
Who the fuck drinks this for fun? My mouth tingles in the wake of the burning liquid and I shake my head at myself. Suck it up, Brielle. Put those big girl panties on. I smack my lips as the tingling starts to fade. Huh, I kind of miss it. I guess I can survive the burn to get another rush of that feeling. Anything to take my mind off everything else. If I can’t stop Carson then the least I can do is numb the pain he causes.
I take another swig and only splutter slightly at the sensation this time. I bet if I just keep drinking, I won’t even notice the burn anymore. Maybe I can drink so much that I can not only forget about the guys, but I can also forget about whatever Carson does to me next.
It’s worth a try.
ChapterTwenty-One
I fucking hate this.
I hate this plan, I hate this place, and more than anything, I fucking hate Carson Crawford. The way he looks at her as if he owns her, the way he speaks down to her, and touches her as if it’s his goddamn right. I hate that it is. Wishing things were different wouldn’t change anything though.
Hudson and Z have had to suffer through practice listening to their teammates trade stories on what they wish they could do to Brielle. There was no way they were going to be able to play in this game and be okay knowing she was here. With him. This plan was the only choice left as soon we overheard a couple of his frat buddies talking about it during the week.
My eyes aren’t drawn to her because of her endless light, now they are inspecting, dissecting, calculating her every move and reaction as I search for the Brielle I know and love. The one I know without a doubt is still in there. The other’s would think I was stupid if I told them, but I know, and I think Elias does too.
She kissed him, she actually kissed him, and besides the hot flash of jealousy that passed through me at the sight of their swollen lips, there was also relief. Because the new Brielle, the one who hangs on Carson’s every word and dresses like a Stepford wife would never have kissed one of us, but the old Brielle would have. Which means she’s still in there waiting, for what, I’m not sure, but I’m sure as hell going to find out.
I ignore Carson’s vicious glare as he watches her disappear and then stalks his way inside to find a court to command, and I especially ignore Eli’s warning stare as he watches me get ready to bolt. As soon as I go to move his tight grip finds my arm, burning with anger into my bare skin that flinches beneath his fingers.
“Whatever you are thinking, don’t do it. It’s not worth it.” I turn my head, letting my eyes meet his and find both concern and heated anger. It reminds me of the look on his face in the library after Brielle stalked out of the stacks with him hot on her heels. He would have followed her if I wasn’t there to witness it. I know it, and he knows it too.
That same look has haunted my nightmares every night since and I can’t stop myself from ripping my arm from his touch. “Did you tell yourself the same thing before you kissed her?”
Any response dies in his throat as I turn and storm away without looking back. I don’t care what he thinks, what they think, I only care about what I feel. And what I feel is that we aren’t looking close enough at what is going on, at what happened. I know Brielle, they do too, and the Brielle we grew up with would have never betrayed us. I’m sure of it.
So instead of heading inside the gate to watch my brothers play, I head in the opposite direction after the girl who broke all our hearts.
It doesn’t take long to catch up with her. I’ve gotten used to tracking her these last several weeks, and I find it easy to watch her from the shadows. She heads off campus, down a few streets and then into a liquor store. Shock and confusion fill me as I watch her study the shelves of alcohol. Even from here, I can see the way she’s picking at her necklace through her sweater as she paces, looking at her options of hard liquor. She’s never been a shots kind of girl. She was a sip of champagne at her parents’ parties, or a glass of wine at Christmas, kind of girl. At school parties she would nurse a beer or a drink I made for her for a while before hitting the dance floor to enjoy herself. It was rare to ever find her tipsy and out of control, it’s one of the things I like most about her. She never needed anything else but her to let herself have a good time.
So why does she need it now?
I keep watch, letting my eyes travel up and down the street, which is mostly quiet, before focusing back on the store door. Eventually she steps outside and I note the bottle of whiskey in her hand, and wince. I wonder if she remembers the one time she tried that whiskey before? She accidentally drank out of Hudson’s cup thinking it was coke and damn near choked.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen her face turn so red as it did that day. Oh, Bri. Why on earth would you pick that bottle, Baby? I stand transfixed as she snaps the cap off and takes a deep pull. I hold my breath, knowing what's coming next better than even she does. There’s no way she knowingly chose that. Even from here I can see the way her throat swallows it down, the moment of confusion before she starts coughing. Her whole body shivers and she stares at the bottle as if it betrayed her.
I can’t help the smile that pulls at my lips at her antics. But it’s quick to drop off my face as she breathes deeply and puts the bottle back to her lips. She still coughs, wiping her mouth from the splutter, but it isn’t as bad as the first time. She nods to herself, almost like she’s giving herself a pep talk before she once again lifts the bottle to her lips. And that’s officially the most hard liquor I’ve ever seen the girl drink.
What the fuck is going on?
She starts to slowly walk back in the direction of campus and I can do nothing but follow, watching her as she drinks more and more of the amber liquid, no longer grimacing or choking it down. She doesn’t even seem to care if anyone sees her, and when we make it back to BSU, she starts towards fraternity row. Anger boils inside of me as I follow her to the one place on this campus I truly despise and Carson’s whispered words from earlier come back to haunt me.
Why don’t you go and wait in my bed, Darling? We can play our own games later.
Suddenly I feel sick. I am literally stalking after her as she heads to her boyfriend's bed to wait for him to come home. What am I gonna do? Stand outside the window while they fuck and pretend it’s me?
