Chapter 37
EMMA
My head hurts, and my mouth feels like sandpaper.
“There she is,” a muffled voice says nearby.
Is that Jeremy? Am I at the hospital?
I squeeze my eyes tight to shield from the harsh lighting, then try to blink them open. Jeez, this pillow is hard. When I attempt to rub my eyes, I realize I can’t move my hand.
Slowly, my senses start coming back to me, and I feel something hard beneath me. Definitely not a hospital bed.
I’m lying on my stomach on a wooden bench and my hands are bound behind my back. And Jeremy is standing over me. I look around, trying to focus my eyes, when I realize we’re in one of the practice rooms in the basement of the music building.
“You can scream if you want to, but these rooms are soundproofed.”
My heart rate picks up as fear courses through me. I discreetly wiggle my wrists to test how much give my bindings have. That’s when I realize that there’s something tied to my ankles, preventing me from closing my legs. Oh God, what is he going to do to me?
“Don’t think about trying to get out of that. I got a merit badge in Scouts for my knots. Those aren’t coming loose anytime soon.”
“Jeremy, what’s going on?” I ask sweetly, hoping I can win him over and get him to release me.
He paces in front of me, my eyes fixate on his boots as he speaks. “You know, I watched you for months. I saw the way you fawned all over him. It was desperate and needy, and you’re better than that.”
My head hurts and I’m trying to make sense of his words. “Who?” I croak out.
“Your professor boyfriend,” he spits. He grabs a chair and spins it backwards before he straddles it so his knee is inches from my face. “I think it’s time for a little story. You wanna hear a little story?”
I pinch my eyes closed, willing myself to wake up. This has to be one of my nightmares.
“Oh, that’s right, I don’t give a fuck what you want!” he yells, and I flinch as his laughter follows. “It’s not like you’re going anywhere right now.”
A tear pools in the corner of my eye, and I tilt my head slightly allowing it to escape, suddenly terrified of what he’s going to do to me. This is not the nice guy I’ve gotten to know over the past year.
“Once upon a time, I met a guy named Trent. Ever heard of him?” I’m unsure if he’s waiting for me to answer, but when I refuse, he continues.
“A buddy of mine invited me over to his place. We played Call of Duty and shot the shit. I thought it was just guys hanging out, but once a few people left and it was just a handful of us, he told us about this chick he’d been with in high school.
Told me all about you.” He pokes me on the last word.
“He said you came off like a good girl, but you were a freak in bed. Told us that he’d pay someone a hundred thousand if we could prove that we’d been with you.”
So there actually was a club? I joked about it, but it was real?
“It was kinda weird and I thought he was bluffing, but when I looked into his family’s finances, I realized he had the bank account to back it up. I don’t think anyone else took him seriously, but I needed the money, so I came up with a plan.”
I shift against the bench as the edge of it digs uncomfortably into my thighs. He leans down; his lips close to my ear as he speaks. “Stop squirming, or I’ll give you something to squirm about.”
My body goes stiff, and I take shallow breaths.
He leans back. “I played the long game, signed up for that acting class with that dick of a professor, and purposely sat next to you, became your scene partner. When I learned about your little issue, I was pissed. I thought Trent had set me up. There was no way he ever slept with you. But I decided, fuck it. I needed the money, and I didn’t care.
” He places his hand against my cheek, smashing my face further into the piano bench.
“You’re a psychopath,” I grit out, barely able to understand myself.
“Undiagnosed, so you can’t prove it, but probably. Anyway, halfway through our acting class sophomore year, Trent mentioned that he’d pay me more if I fucked you and filmed it. I don’t know what you did to piss him off, but I couldn’t pass up that kind of money.”
Flashbacks to my encounter with Trent over spring break that year fill my head. This is my fault.
“I watched you that first year, learned your habits, saw who you hung out with. Oh, by the way, you probably need new friends. It wasn’t hard to convince Megan and Rylee to talk you into going to that party earlier this year.
All I had to do was flirt a little with those vapid bitches and they took the bait.
I was planning to make a move, but that frat bro at the party fucked that up.
What was curious was when I saw a certain professor beat the shit out of him right after. Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I really don’t. I don’t remember seeing John on campus that night, and he never mentioned it to me.
He leans closer, getting right in my face as he pulls a knife out of his pocket and glides the dull side along my cheek. “Yes, you do, don’t play dumb with me. I know there’s something going on with you two. I just can’t figure out when it started.”
I bite my tongue, not willing to share John’s hidden identity. Things may be strained between us, but I’m not going to betray him like that.
“So I followed your little professor friend. Learned everything I could about him. Did you know he’s married? No wonder he was sneaking around with you. He didn’t want anyone to know you were his dirty little secret. I knew I had to do something.”
“What did you do?” I ask. Anything to keep him talking, hoping it will buy me time for someone to find us down here.
There’s a gleam in his eye, probably a reflection from the light hitting the knife in his hand.
“I sent you letters, of course. I’d hacked my way past his alarm and snooped around his house when I came across those letters he sent his wife.
It was actually genius on my part. I took them and started leaving them for you. ”
“But I got the first one at the end of my sophomore year.” I cringe, worrying I’ve just admitted our tryst, but he continues unbothered.
“I saw the way he looked at you during our acting class that semester, but you were clueless about his interest in you. I figured I’d speed the process along.”
“I don’t understand. You wanted us to be together?” I ask, keeping him talking to stall as long as possible.
“I wanted him to slip up and kiss you on campus or something so I could expose him as a cheater preying on one of his students. I thought it’d be obvious to you that the letter was from him. Then I would swoop in and comfort you, and that money would be mine.”
“And when that didn’t happen?”
“Then I waited for my opportunity. I played the friend for months, gaining your trust, hoping you’d fall into my lap on your own.
Then when we were cast in the play, everything started coming together.
The theatre department always needs more guys for their shows, and I was able to bluff my way into the leading role opposite you.
I was going to just offer to help you with whoever you had to end up kissing, but it worked out better that it was me.
But then that fuckface professor started getting more involved, wanting to talk to you after.
I watched as you let him put his hands on you after rehearsal, as he carried you home after I left you at the library, when you snuck into his office. ”
His admission causes a wave of nausea to hit me, knowing that this man spied on intimate moments between John and me.
He moves closer, waving the knife wildly as he gets more and more upset. “So I kept sending letters, trying to find ones that were obviously meant for someone else, hoping you’d think he was cheating on you.”
“And the threats?”
“All me, baby. Nobody touches what’s mine. And make no mistake, you belong to me. And today I’m finally going to claim my reward. Not everyone has a rich mommy and daddy. Some of us have to bust our ass just to make ends meet.”
He stands, kicking the chair away, and it hits the wall before toppling onto the carpeted floor. His tall figure looms over me as he cracks his knuckles.
“Please don’t do this, please!” I beg as my muscles tense and my trembling hands grip the bench tightly. He runs his palm up the back of my leg, lifting my skirt as he goes. I recoil against my bindings.
“I promise I’ll make this good for you.”