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“Everyone can see you stationed outside the dorm. I don’t want you strolling down the corridors, too.”
“Like it would be the first time.”
I bite into my bottom lip to keep from swearing. “You’re not doing yourself any favors.”
“And I won’t be doing you any either, little spy, if you keep refusing to see me,” he purrs, his voice infiltrating my ear like the promise of a devil.
“Don’t force me to meet you. I’m not ready, not after what happened.”
I can’t see the grin on his face, but I know it’s there, and it raises the goosebumps all over me. It feels like those eyes can pierce through the walls and strip me bare.
“Oh, but I will. If you think that I’m just gonna sit back and watch you go on with your life, probably start seeing another guy, you’re dead wrong.” He pauses, and when he speaks again, his voice is deep and raw. “I’m not done with you, little spy, and, if you’re honest, you know you’re not done with me either. You don’t want people seeing me walk into your dorm? Then come see me tonight at the frat house. You meet me face to face. I will be waiting for you, and I won’t be alone. There will be someone else with me, a surprise I’m sure you’ll enjoy. If you don’t show up, I’m gonna make life hell for you.”
My head is still spinning long after he’s gotten into his car and driven off.
Part of what he said was as seductive as a deal with the devil. But meeting him in the dead of night at the frat house, his guys present, it sends chills down my spine. I can already imagine their libidinous eyes on me, their hands reaching for my tits and ass. Declan doesn’t seem like the kind of guy that would pass his girls around, but I don’t think he’d be opposed to the guys watching, especially since he feels I’ve crossed him in some way.
And sure enough, when I finally go through the texts on my phone, I discover not all of them are from Declan. There are quite a few from Timothy Meyer, too. I open the first of them, and a boulder drops into my stomach.
It's footage of Declan and me, but not the one he shot of us in the sex room.
It’s one that someone clearly shot in the gallery, of him pounding me from behind, then putting me down on my knees by my choker, stroking his cock over my face and then shoving it down my throat. The next message is a text that sends nausea crawling up my throat. Curses pour uncontrollably from my mouth.
“You’ve never been used quite like that before, have you, filthy little whore? Well, guess what, me and my friends are next. We’re gonna come all over that slut face of yours. Soon, little rabbit. Very soon.”
The device trembles so hard in my hands, the text becomes nothing but a blur.
I’m not even sure who’s the bigger piece of shit. Timothy, for doing this to me, or Declan, for giving him the go-ahead to do it. Because there’s no version of this in which Timothy is acting on his own. Declan Santori is the ringleader of the ravenous pack of dogs that are the frat boys, and he didn’t get there by being easy to cross. There are stories about his wrath.
And I think I’m just getting a taste of it now, too.
The bastard promised he wouldn’t let the footage he shot of us go public, but he didn’t say anything about the videos he had other guys make. The way he laughed behind me after he threw me out of his car the other night returns with a vengeance. Hatred fills me. Not for him, but for myself.
I went to the party that night greedy to feel him inside me. I wanted him so badly that it blinded me to everything else. I didn’t think about the mushrooms that would pop up after the rain. I could have put up with his indifference and even his disdain. Hell, I even took that into account when I put on that slutty outfit, knowing full well what I was getting myself into–with him. The participation of multiple guys, in any way, was never implied.
Fuck my life, and fuck this day. It turned into a nightmare before it even began, and now I’m locked inside it.
How could I have been so stupid? And all because of my idiot heart. The crush I had on him turned out to be crippling. I can’t believe I actually trusted the bastard, what the hell was I thinking?
I need to find a way out of this. I’ll go to the frat house tonight, and confront him with all the anger, betrayal and helplessness he slammed into my heart by allowing this to happen. Once again, Nana was right. Never trust a man who puts butterflies in your stomach. He will always end up stomping on them. Well, Declan Santori shattered me, and he’s going to destroy my whole life if I don’t deal with him tonight, once and for all.
***
