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Dereck
I’m trying really hard not to lose my shit, but it’s proving difficult.
My knuckles ache from the throttle I’d given Jason earlier, but even the physical pain isn’t quite enough to forgive him for what he’s done to Rowan. I want to kill him. We all do. But instead, we wait. We wait, because we all know that if we actually killed Jason, Rowan probably wouldn’t be pleased.
She looks pale lying there on our couch; too pale, like she’s on the verge of death, and I almost tell Matt and Bryce that we should take her to the ER, but I don’t.
We can take care of her now.
Bryce is sitting to the left of me, his eyes on Rowan. Every few minutes he rubs a hand over his face in agitation, foot tapping warp speed against the carpet. Across from us, Matt is leaned back in the chair, sitting stiff like a statue.
“What if she wakes up and screams at us?” Bryce asks finally. “What if she thinks it’s something we did and not Jason?”
“She won’t think that,” Matt says, his voice so low that I almost don’t register the words. “She knows who did this.”
“I want to kill him,” I say, not for the first time that night. “I should have finished the job.”
“We’re not murderers,” Bryce says. He sounds unconvinced, and I’m not surprised. Bryce hit Jason so hard it broke open two knuckles and bled all over my car. Still, I don’t care. None of us do. I’m still willing to go back to that party and finish this shit.
On the couch, Rowan stirs with a moan, and her eyelids flicker. We all lean forward in our chairs, eyes pinned on Rowan, holding our breath, waiting.
“Row?” Matt says softly. The sound of his voice stirs her further, and she pushes her lids open, gazing blearily over at us.
“What happened?”
My fists fold into a fist again, but I force myself to take a breath and relax.
“You were drugged.” Bryce reaches for the cup of water he grabbed earlier from the kitchen and hands it to her. Rowan starts to try and sit up, but she’s struggling, and before she can ask for help, Matt, Bryce, and I reach out to steady her. She doesn’t say anything, I’m not sure she can find the words, but she doesn’t resist the offer.
Rowan takes a long drink of the water, then shakily sets it back down on the table. She’s a real mess with her hair in loose tendrils around her tear-stained face, but God she’s beautiful. So beautiful.
“I was with Jason,” she says weakly, her eyes working their way around the room. “I went to the bathroom and then …” she trails off, rubbing her head with the palm of her hand. “He attacked me.” She swallows, allowing her hand to fall into her lap, and shakes her head slowly. “He tried to rape me.”
“Yes,” Matt says. “He tried.”
“But then—”
“I broke the door down,” Matt confirms.
“And Bryce and I took Jason outside,” I add.
“To kick his ass,” says Bryce.
Rowan is still looking between the three of us as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and begins to chew anxiously. It’s something she’s always done, but fuck if my dick doesn’t begin to harden against my pants, wanting her.
We all want her, though. That’s exactly the problem.
“So he didn’t …?” Rowan hesitates, choking on her next question.
“He tried,” Matt says again. “He failed.”
“And you guys didn’t …?”
“Do you really think we would do that to you, Row?” Bryce asks with a frown. “We care about you.”
“We would never take advantage of you,” says Matt. “That’s for scum like Jason.”
Rowan nods, like she knew that all along, but I can’t blame her for being scared. She’d almost been raped, and can’t even remember it all.
