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“Tell me what it is, then. Let’s figure it out,” she said, as she swiped at the tears that continued to fall.
“The way that you told me what scared you enough that you actually fainted at my gym? Trust works both ways. And the difference here is that you’re protecting someone else by not telling me what happened. I’m protectingyouby not telling you what happened. There’s a difference.”
“Okay. You want to know so badly? My dad’s business partner and our good family friends have a son, Ronny Waterstone. We grew up together. We went to college together.” She let out a long breath. “We never dated. It was never, ever romantic. At least not on my side. But right before my college graduation a few months ago, he showed up drunk at my house on campus. My roommates weren’t home. He said that he’d had too much to drink and needed a place to crash.”
My hands fisted, and I could feel the rage coursing through my veins. “What the fuck did he do to you?”
“I gave him a pillow and blanket and said that he could sleep on the couch, and I went to sleep. I’ve known him my whole life.” Her voice trembled. “But he wandered into my room an hour later while I was sleeping, and he climbed on top of me in my bed. He was so heavy, and it was terrifying. I tried to scream because I knew my roommates had most likely come home, but he pressed his forearm against my throat, making it hard for me to breathe. His eyes were—empty. Like he was a complete stranger. He tried to force himself on me, and I knew if I didn’t do something, he’d kill me because he was pressing so hard against my throat. I don’t know how I did it, but my leg broke free, and I kneed him hard enough in the balls that he fell off the bed and onto the floor. Then I hit him with a lampbefore my roommate, Liz, came running into the bedroom. He acted like it was all a big misunderstanding. He told Liz that he’d walked in his sleep into my room by mistake. But that’s not what happened.”
“Did you call the police?”
She shook her head. “I called my dad.”
“What the fuck did he do about it?”
“He was really mad. He told me not to call the police. Ronny had run out of our place and apologized on his way out the door.”
“And your father just let him get away with this?”
“No. Not at all. He was furious. He didn’t want me to go to the police because Ronny’s family was in politics, and this would make the news. He didn’t want to have me dragged through the mud, so he thought we should keep it quiet.”
“Why the fuck wouldyoube dragged through the mud? That dude is a psychopath.”
“Because I’d agreed to let him sleep on the couch? I don’t know,” she said, as she cried harder. “My dad filed a restraining order for me and requested that it stay private, and he called Ronny and let him know that he would make it all public if he came near me ever again. He insisted that Ronny get help, and apparently, he’s seeing a therapist weekly to deal with his issues.”
This was not adding up to me.
A private restraining order and she wasn’t involved in the process?
Her dad had handled it?
I’d bet a lot of fucking money he didn’t do jack shit.
How the hell was he making sure this asshole was in therapy? It was a load of bullshit from where I was standing.
Her father wasn’t worried about her being dragged through the mud; he was worried about his business relationship.
I pulled her close and wrapped my arms around her, kissing the top of her head.
“I’m so fucking sorry that happened to you. If I see this dude, I will put my fist through his face.”
She stayed right there, little whimpers escaping her lips, and I just held her until her breathing calmed.
She tipped her head back, her eyes puffy under the moonlight. She was the most beautiful fucking woman I’d ever laid eyes on.
“Romeo, I’m trusting you with this. If you tell your friends, or you tell anyone at all, it will cause a lot of trouble for my family. It’s very messy, and as long as he stays away and gets help, that’s all I can ask for. You can’t go after him or do anything—promise me.”
I nodded. “As long as he doesn’t come near you, I won’t do anything. Has he contacted you at all?”
Her eyes darted away from me, and I fucking knew the answer to my question before she even spoke.
“Tell me.” My voice was hard because this rich prick didn’t live by the same rules as everyone else.
“I don’t know for sure if it’s him. I’ve gotten some texts from unknown numbers, asking if we can talk, and he calls meDin the texts, which is what Ronny always called me. My gut tells me that they’re from him.”
“Do you respond?”
“No. I block the number after he texts. I told my dad, and he said he’d handle it.”
