Chapter 12
He didn’t show up.
Dropping the spray can to the polished concrete, my hands come to my bare arms, warming them up against the coldness of the arena. Despite doing this alone, a small smile tugs at my face as I look up at the bare bones of my artwork.
Idiot: the mural needs to show the SBU community spirit
I don’t know how he got my number, but Mac texted me the minute I entered the rink. So did Angelo.
Angelo: u rlly w that fool?
Working on this piece helped me ignore that text and everything else this morning. After dodging the police, the few hours I spent getting started on the mural was enough to calm me. Each brushstroke and each spray of paint helped quiet the voices in my head. The ones that tell me to leave. The ones that remind me of how Mac tried to calm me down in his car with his weapons of torture. My thighs clench thinking of his hands between my legs, those clamps on my nipples.
Did that bring calmness too?
A whore that can be a good girl for me.
Heat burns my cheeks as I push through the heavy wooden doors of the rink, a bit more warmth hitting my skin. Then it all comes back.
“Did you hear Beau’s missing?”
“Do you think she did it?”
Those few hours of peace disappear, but the whispers I heard this morning haven’t. They’re even louder than before.
My water-damaged sketchpad pressed to my chest, I move across the lawn, keeping my head down. But I still hear those comments like it’s on a speaker.
“Of course, she did, look at her.”
“Should never let Valley Vermin in.”
They glare at me as I move across the pristine cobblestone towards the art building, Mac’s deep voice in my head.
Keep your head down.
We’re in this together, Butterfly.
My grip tightens on my pad. I should’ve known better.
Glancing up, more students glare and whisper as I pass, my chest tightening. Sure we just met, but without Beau, I”m more alone in Paradise Hill than ever.
And Mac? Mac left me to the crows.
“Oof!” My body hits something hard, my sketchpad dropping to the stone.
“We know what you did, Ember Everett.” A girl from Hannah’s posse sneers at me, blocking my path.
My eyes narrow in on her heavily made-up face. “I know what you did too, that nose-job isn’t fooling anyone.”
Her jaw drops. I smile. “Yeah, well, at least I can fit into a size six.” She kicks my sketchpad further away. My weight? Low blow, but the people at SBU don’t care. They all look like her. Thin. Sculpted. Mannequins. The students around me cackle and hell, I’m on my own again.
With a sigh, I pick up my pad, bringing my focus back to the art building. A familiar face stands by a golden water fountain and the tension in my jaw loosens.
Maybe I’m not.
“Greta,” I call, moving towards her.
She fills a glass water bottle, stopping before her eyes land on me. As she does, water sprays all over her beige sweater vest, dripping onto her short white skirt.
“I’m so happy to see you.” A weight lifts off my chest as I approach her. “Saint Bons is hell. Be my angel?”
“Oh, hey,” she says. Her voice sounds way less enthusiastic than mine. “Sorry, I can’t chat. I have class.” Her response is dry. Dismissive. So much for solidarity.
As she walks away, I call out again, “Is it me or are you avoiding me too?”
She stops, looking around before she turns to me. “You’ve heard, right? About Beau?”
Play. It. Cool.
I nod.
“Everyone’s saying you have something to do with it.”
“Of course, everyone thinks the girl from The Valley has something to do with it.”
Greta’s shoulders drop. “I’m sorry, Ember.” The sincerity in her voice settles my pounding heart. “You know they’re looking for you, right?” And my heart pounds again. ”I really can’t be involved. At all.” She scrunches her face as if she’s in pain and I can’t tell if I’m the one causing it. “It’s best we keep our distance. I’m sorry.”
She turns to walk away again, a knot twisting in my gut. “Wait,” I call. “They? Greta, who’s they?”
“Miss Everett?”
A firm voice comes from behind me. It’s not Dean Patel but it screams authority. When I turn around, it’s exactly what I feared.
The cops.
Glancing behind me, Greta’s already gone.
Fuck.
“Can we have a word with you?” The officer asks, standing tall over me in uniform.
“Why?”
“We have some questions.” Another officer joins him, the two looking like a scene from a crime show. And I’m the fucking star.
“About?” I steady my shaky voice. Where I’m from, you don’t question the authorities. My eyes move to their hips. Especially ones with guns.
“Beau Laval.”
My throat tightens again. ”I—I need a lawyer.”
“Oh?” One officer tilts his bald head to the side. “Why’s that?”
“Why not?” That deep, growly voice comes from beside me, the churn in my stomach coming to a stop. “You guys can spin anything.” A firm grip comes to my arm, heat coming with it. “One moment, officers.”
Mac tugs me a few feet away, pressing my back against the art building wall as the ground tilts below me. The cops want to question me. Me. The kid from The Valley. There’s no way I’m getting out of this.
“Hey, look at me.” Mac’s voice pulls me back, those iron eyes on mine. He looks more awake than he did this morning. His crisp white shirt and sleek black denim fitting his clean-shaven face and shiny hair.
“Where were you?” My brows furrow.
“Doesn’t matter, I’m here now.” His fingers trail down my arm, goosebumps rising to them. “Listen, you’re gonna talk to those cops.”
“No. They’ll arrest me, not you.” My mind spirals with what my life will look like. Behind bars. Away from Uncle Jake. My future ruined. Again. Tugging on my golden locket, Mac’s eyes drop to it before gazing back into mine.
“You’re not guilty so don’t admit guilt,” he says. “Don’t be aggressive. This is not The Valley. Be confident.” When I glance at the cops, Mac’s fingers land on my chin, pulling my gaze back to him. “Keep eye contact with them.” His other hand tickles my thigh before my eyes widen, a whoosh of air flowing between my legs. Is he seriously trying to catch a feel right now? But it’s hard to stop him, my hands stuck to my sides.
“I’m here with you.” His fingers trail my ass, something cold and soft pushing between my cheeks.
My stomach tightens. “Mac,” I gasp, something pushing further and further. Gripping his shirt, whatever it is fills me bigger than a finger, the pressure causing me to clench my thighs. It’s even harder to stop him now. How can I when the cops watch my every move?
“Ssshh,” Mac quiets me, my breath quickening as my hand tightens around his shirt. “No sudden movements, they’re watching us. I can’t be there with you while they question you but I’m here.” On his last word, my eyes widen when something settles inside my ass.
The fuck? Is that a plug? “Mac, I?—”
Someone taps on Mac’s shoulder. “A moment has passed.”
“Keep your fingers off the Tom Ford.” Mac looks over his shoulder before he steps back. “Make it quick.” He moves towards the art building’s main doors.
Sweat forms on my skin as the cops surround me. It’s hard not to glare as Mac leans against the wall, tapping at his phone. Casual. Cool. Collected. As for me? I”m fed to the piranhas.
What the fuck did he put inside me?
As if he hears my question, a vibration rolls within me, shooting from my ass and exploding through my body. Mac’s eyes pin on mine as a wave of warmth follows.
Did he think this would help? Or is he fucking with me? Is he trying to get me arrested in the most humiliating way? How am I gonna make it through a conversation with the fucking police with a toy in my ass?
“Okay, Miss Everett.” Both cops stand in front of me like a wall of justice and I’m about to be the bird that splats into it. “Students say you were with Beau Laval on the night of March fourteenth. Is that correct?”
“I—” The toy vibrates within me before I can answer. I’ve never had something fill me back there but it does something to me. It’s enough to distract me from my words. “Ye—” It vibrates again, this time harder. Glancing at Mac, his eyes narrow like he’s hearing every word. “I-I can’t recall.” That might seem like a lie, but right now, that’s the truth. The only thing on my mind is how Mac toyed with me last night. And this morning. It’s the same way he toys with me now.
The vibrations stop, plunging me back to reality in front of the cops.
“That’s convenient,” one cop responds.
“Did you happen to see Beau Laval at Sun House?” the other asks.
The toy vibrates again, my thighs pressing together. “I-I was—” The cops must see something on my face. Hatred? Desire? Whatever it is makes one cop tilt his head to the side. “I remember…” My voice trails as that toy vibrates some more, the feeling of it making my hands turn to balls. “I remember nothing.” My mind is blank, this toy bringing me to places far from here.
I’d be lying if I said I wanted it to stop. It’s not like I can pull it out. The vibrations stop when I’m quiet. Then it hits me.
That’s what he wants.
“Miss Everett?”
The toy vibrates again, getting my attention as I bite my tongue. My eyes shift to Mac”s and he tilts his head towards the cops. “Sorry, I-I didn’t get thaaat.” My hand hits the wall, bracing it as the sensation heightens. Fuck, that feels really good.
“If you’re lying, you’ll be in much more trouble,” one cop says.
“That’s jail time,” the other follows. “What do you remember about Beau Laval that day?”
The toy turns on again, heat rising to my cheeks. It makes me gasp between my words, “I—I don’t…” The feeling rolling through me is the best I’ve felt all day. He’s taking me right there, stars forming in my eyes. “I don’t remember—” Can I have an orgasm like this? The pressure building tells me it”s possible. Another gasp cuts me off as my canal tightens around one end of the toy. “I really don’t know.”
My brain is far from Beau. It’s on what it would feel like if those same thick fingers that filled me earlier would fill my ass in the same way. My nipples harden under my shirt, my nails scratching against the brick as sweat builds on my body.
Be confident. Keep eye contact.
My eyes narrow on the cops, my gaze moving between them as I try to keep my head high.
“Miss Everett, are you alright?” An officer’s hand comes to my shoulder. The vibrations intensify causing massive waves of euphoria to flow through me. Like a thousand lightning bolts. A million butterflies. “Miss Everett?”
I’m not doing anything Mac told me to and I don’t care.
I’m so fucking close. I want that release.
I need that release.
Bracing harder against the wall, my teeth sink into my tongue so hard a metallic taste fills my mouth.
“She’s in distress,” one officer says.
“Miss Everett, you should get some water and calm down,” the other says, moving his hand from my shoulder. “You’re hysterical.”
The cops mutter something to each other as the vibrations stop, right when I’m almost fucking there.
“You’re free to go. For now.”
My back collapses against the wall as the officers turn away, the sweat from my back and arms cold against my skin.
Fuck.
I shouldn’t be this frustrated when I got what I wanted: the cops leaving me alone. Mac saunters towards me without saying a word. When he stands in front of me, I straighten up as those iron eyes bore into my soul.
Then those vibrations come back, stronger than before.
“Fuck,” I murmur, my legs tightening as those flutters erupt inside me again. He doesn’t let up, a smirk growing as he brings me back to where I was. “Oh my god.” My hand comes to his chest, trying to grip something. Anything. I’m far from stable but he slaps my hand away as the vibrations grow. “Mac, I—I—” Looking into those eyes while he controls me makes me hit that peak.
“Let it go, Butterfly,” he coaxes like he knows I can’t stop the tsunami coming if I try. “You deserve it.” He leans in, his lip grazing my ear. “Come for me.”
And I fucking do. Right in the middle of campus.
Those eyes stare into me as I lose myself against the wall. The ground disappears below me. So does the world around us.
Do you like the way he treats you?
“Good girl,” Mac whispers, pulling me down from my haze. His knuckles come to my cheek in a hot caress, a gentle contrast to his usual harshness. “Parking lot. Six o’clock.” Putting his phone in his pocket, he walks away, and I’m too breathless to call him. Turns out, this monster knows how to get me off.
An orgasmon university campus doesn’t stop me from being uneasy the rest of the day.
Well, maybe a little.
I needed that release after all that’s happened, but I won’t let myself crave more. Mac’s way of toying with me was unethical, weird and deranged.
So why do you want more?
Am I as fucked up as he is? Beau thought so. So does Angelo. But nothing compares to the darkness within Mac McKinsley.
Moving through the glitzy halls of the main building, I still don’t see Greta. Haven’t seen her since the water fountain. She really is avoiding me. The whispers don’t go away either, and after everything today, I’m more than ready to get off SBU grounds.
An engine revs when I leave the main building, the front doors facing the road running through campus. Mac’s spaceship car shines under the setting sun.
Parking lot. Six o’clock.
He showed up.