Piper
Damon sees me.
I’m all he sees.
He must’ve found a way to skip the Montgomery trip. He must’ve come looking for Gabi. He’s probably hoping to coerce her into getting back together with him. Or maybe he’s here to find a new victim. Someone isolated and vulnerable.
Like I am right now.
He strides toward me, all swagger and heavy footfalls.
I want to turn away. I want to run.
My feet have grown roots.
“Piper.” His voice is deep and confident. He’s used to getting what he wants, either by asking or taking.
Henry’s probably back outside, looking for me. Gabi’s gossiping in the kitchen with Anna and Michaela. Hudson and Jayden and the rest of the guys are preoccupied with Flip Cup, clueless that their buddy has arrived, ignorant about who he truly is.
“Leave me alone,” I say, managing a half turn and a clumsy step before he catches my wrist and yanks me back.
He doesn’t let go.
“It’s over between Gabi and me,” he says. “Because of you.”
“No. Because of you.”
“She hates me, thanks to your lies.”
“They aren’t lies.” There’s grit behind my words. Telling Tati and Gabi about those horrific moments back in May banished the uncertainties that tormented me in the weeks that followed. I know I didn’t do anything wrong.
“You overpowered me. I said no. You refused to hear me.”
I try to pull away, but his grip tightens.
“Let go of me, Damon.”
He forces me backward, until my spine presses into the wall. “You’re going to fix this.” He pulls my wrist up and traps my hand between us. His forearm comes to rest on the wall by my head, and I know that if someone were to walk by, this would look reciprocal.
“If you don’t let me go, I’ll scream.”
He laughs, quietly maniacal—a paralyzing sound. “Go ahead,” he says, eyes traveling down, down, down.
I look where he’s looking: my suntanned chest, sprinkled with freckles; the rapid rise and fall of my ribs; the swell of cleavage accentuated by my dress’s neckline; my shoulder strap, slipping down my arm again.
“No one will believe you,” he says. “The way you look, the way you drink, the way you act…they’ll jump to the same conclusion they did last time.”
It’s terrifying that he could be right.
He touches my hair. His face is so close to mine, it’s hard to focus on any one of his features. But I catch his smile as he says, “Now that it’s over between Gabi and me, you and I ought to give things a shot.”
“I’d rather die,” I say, trying and failing to twist my arm free.
Somewhere, a door slams. Footsteps close in, audible even above the music and the laughter and the whirring in my ears.
A flash of movement catches Damon’s attention. He shifts back enough that I can pull in a full breath. He doesn’t let me go, but his expression changes from cocksure to ruffled. I follow his gaze. Henry’s standing in the hallway.
His eyes cloud over.
Does he think I’m complicit in what’s happening?
My heart shrivels.
Gabi comes around the corner, nearly bumping into Henry. She stops short. “Damon! Let go of her!”
He acts as if she hasn’t spoken, but Henry doesn’t. He zeros in on the way Damon’s gripping my wrist. He sets his jaw, his expression contorting into one of ruthlessness.
“Get away from her,” he says, ice cold.
Damon’s a pig, but he’s not an idiot.
He frees me, taking a step backward. He puts his hands in the air like he’s innocent. Like he’s been misunderstood. He’s almost convincing, but his bluster returns too quickly.
He snickers.
One second Henry’s across the hall, and the next he’s in Damon’s face, bunching the front of his shirt in his fist, slamming him against the wall.
“I fail to see the humor,” he seethes. “She doesn’t want you to touch her. She doesn’t want you anywhere near her. Got it?”
“Yeah, bro,” Damon says, his words sounding choked. “Got it.”
“I’m not your bro,” Henry spits out, releasing his shirt. “If you put your hands on her again—or on any other girl who’s not enthusiastically encouraging your attention—you and I are gonna talk. Don’t misunderstand: It won’t end well for you.”
“Yeah, got it.” Damon’s cheeks, his neck, and the tips of his ears are an angry red. “Now get the fuck away from me.”
Henry takes a step back, swinging an arm toward the kitchen in the most disingenuous welcome gesture I’ve ever seen. But Hudson and Jayden, along with Anna and Michaela, have come to check out the commotion.
Hudson steps toward Damon. “You need to go, dude.”
Damon’s jaw drops. He hooks a thumb toward Henry. “You’re taking his side?”
“I’m taking Piper’s side,” Hudson says. “Gabi’s too. They don’t want you around, and now I’ve got an idea why. I’m not cool with you being here if the girls are uncomfortable.”
Damon huffs. But Hudson’s glaring, and Jayden looks like he’s got homicide in his heart. Despite my trembling hands and imminent tears, their support shines a warm glow through me.
“Damon,” Hudson says. “Go.”
Damon turns for the front door, meekly at first. As he moves past, though, he drills me with a glare and mutters, “Bitch.”
Henry lurches forward, grabs the neck of his shirt, and whirls him around. He cocks his arm back, then crushes his fist into Damon’s face.
I’m stunned.
Damon staggers, hands flying up to cover his nose, which is spurting blood all over his shirt and his shoes and the floor. He stands there, dazed, while the rest of us hold a collective breath, waiting to see if he’ll retaliate.
He doesn’t, which is a surprise, even to my hazy mind.
He’s a wrestler. He’s aggressive. He’s arrogant as hell.
But Henry just proved that he’s a badass, and I’m pretty sure he can count on Hudson and Jayden for backup.
Damon must realize the same; he gives his head a disgusted shake and walks out the front door, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.
Gabi rushes to my side, linking her arm through mine. “God, Piper. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I whisper.
The biggest lie.
Henry’s breathing hard, shaking out his hand, avoiding my gaze.
I should go to him. That’s what everybody’s expecting.
He defended me, but after he lied about his ex-girlfriend.
I shiver, fingertips to toes.
Gabi brushes loose curls from my clammy forehead. “You sure you’re all right?”
I nod, rubbing my wrist, trying to erase the ghost of Damon’s grip.
Anna and Michaela go back into the kitchen, talking shit about Damon.
Jayden inspects Henry’s hand; his knuckles are already puffy.
Hudson passes him a tea towel packed with ice.
He leans against the wall, holding the ice to his hand, looking dead on his feet.
Jayden and Hudson each pull on a pair of yellow kitchen gloves and scrub Damon’s blood from the floor.
As I watch, frenzied laughter fizzes up my throat. I don’t know why. I’m scared and sad and not even a little bit amused. Choking the cackles back, I make a sound like a sob.
They all look at me: Gabi, Hudson, Jayden, Henry, their concern encircling me like a fog.
I turn to Gabi, clasping my hands to hide their shaking. “Walk me home?”
“Piper,” Henry says.
I leave the house with Gabi.
I leave him behind.