Chapter 19
AMELIA
This is the third freaking time Jessica from my product development class has glanced back at me. And she’s not the only one.
I make a face—eyebrows scrunched, lips puckered, just to see what she’ll do. She huffs, rolls her eyes, and turns back to her friend, whispering something behind her hand.
Talk all you want.
I try to focus on the professor, but the hairs on the back of my neck stand up when more people steal glances, some snickering. I catch a guy a few rows ahead s taring, but he quickly looks away when our eyes meet. Then another.
Seriously, what is with everyone today?
My stomach twists. Is something wrong with my hair? I didn’t even look in the mirror before rushing to class. No, no, no. Please don’t let them be staring because my hair is a mess. I swipe at my bangs, then smooth down my shirt, suddenly hyper-aware of everything I might’ve done wrong this morning. The whispers seem to multiply. What are they saying?
The vibrating buzz of my phone snaps me out of my spiraling thoughts, making me jump.
Frankie: Girl, meet me in the fourth quad hall! Urgent!
Urgent? Frankie doesn’t text things like this unless it’s something big. Something bad . My heartbeat quickens, and I can feel sweat gathering at the back of my neck.
The professor’s lecture and the scattered whispers blur together as I shove my tablet into my tote bag and slip out of the room. The hallway is worse. More people looking, more whispers. I swear I can feel their eyes burning into my back.
I check my reflection in the glass door as I pass—nothing’s off. I speed up, practically running by the time I reach the fourth quad hall. Frankie is already here, and she doesn’t look like her usual bubbly self, quite the opposite actually. The look on her face says everything.
“Frankie?” I barely manage to get the word out. My throat feels tight. “What the hell is going on?”
She steps towards me, holding her phone out like a police officer would his badge. “I didn’t want you to find out from some random stranger.”
“Find out what ?” My hands tremble as I take the phone from her, my stomach already tying itself in knots.
There, on the screen, are pictures of… of Blade and Catalina. His arm is around her, and she’s holding him back, too close. She’s smiling like she just won the million-dollar lottery. Her head rests on his shoulder as if she belongs there, like she… belongs to him.
I scroll. There has to be a dozen pictures. The more I look, the more they look like they’re in love. Or at least lust. Staring into each other’s eyes. Nuzzling their noses. Him kissing her cheek. Behind them in the last picture is the music room, empty. Is that where they go for some kind of quickie? This whole time?
That deceiving jerk.
My whole world tilts. The air rushes from my lungs, and I feel like I might collapse right here in the middle of the quad hall.
“No, Frankie, this… this isn’t real. It can’t be.” I know it’s real, but I don’t want to believe it.
Frankie pulls me into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers into my hair. “I thought it’d be better to show you now so you wouldn’t be blindsided by rumors or some random girl. But I can definitely investigate it for you.”
I can’t even speak. My body is trembling, my mind replaying the images of them, over and over, like a movie I can’t find the remote to turn off. “I don’t understand,” I choke out. “I thought we were—”
“I know,” she says softly, rubbing circles on my back before she pulls away. “It could be nothing, okay? We don’t know the whole story yet.”
“Nothing?!” I half-yell, exasperated. My breath comes in short gasps.
Before I can say anything else, my phone buzzes. It better not be him. Right now, I want to rip every strand of his stupid perfect hair off, one by one.
Skye: You chose him over me and then he ends up with another girl. Ironic. I’m moving my stuff out of the dorm. Our friendship is officially over.
I stare at the screen, the ache that was already gnawing at my chest spreads, growing heavier and heavier until it feels like I can’t breathe. This time, I can’t hold back the sobs that tear from my throat. I press a hand over my mouth, but the pain is too raw, too overwhelming.
People suck. They suck. They suck. They suck. Like human vacuum cleaners, they suck the life right out of you. And then they break down when you need them the most.
“I don’t know what to do,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “I don’t know how to fix any of this.”
Frankie strokes my hair softly, her voice a quiet comfort. “You don’t have to fix anything right now. Just breathe. You’re not alone, okay? I’m here. We’ll figure it out. What’s wrong? Was that him?” she asks. I show her the text, and she shakes her head, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I know a guy. He can get rid of both of them. Matter of fact, all three of them. Just say the word, and they’ll be dead by tomorrow.”
A surprised laugh escapes me, caught somewhere between a sob and a snort. “Seriously, Frankie?”
“Hey, I’m just saying—” She stops mid-sentence, her eyes widening. “Uh-oh.”
“What?” I ask. But I already know who she’s looking at. I can sense his presence behind me.
I turn and instantly regret it. His walk is confident, every inch of him perfectly put together. How could he… practically cheat and be so unaffected by it? If I were with another man, I’d be eaten up, swallowed whole, and then spit out by guilt.
The second he spots me, surprise flickers across his face—followed by something else. His eyes light up when he sees me, like I’m the best part of his day.
The sight of it makes my blood boil.
How dare he pretend nothing is wrong?
Frankie leans in and whispers, “Don’t worry, I got back up.”
Blade stops in front of me, flashing that stupid, smug smile. “This is a nice surprise. I didn’t expect to see you out of—”
I cut him off, my voice sharp, the words flying out before I can stop them. “You just couldn’t keep your dick in your pants, huh?”
Blade blinks, completely taken aback, his eyebrows drawing together. “What?”
I let out a bitter laugh, my hands shaking with adrenaline. “You think I wouldn’t find out? You think I wouldn’t see the pictures of you and Catalina, all cozy like she’s your next prize?” My voice cracks, the hurt slipping through despite my best efforts to stay strong. “You really are the king of making people feel like they matter, only to rip it away for the next one, aren’t you?”
“Catalina? What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you being a whore, just like all the other guys were!”
Blade’s face darkens, his jaw tightening, I’m guessing at the mention of other guys, but before he can get another word out, I slap him. Hard. The sound echoes through the hallway, leaving a burning sting on my hand.
I don’t give him a chance to recover. I shove past him, my vision blurred by tears, the rage and betrayal scorching a hole in my chest.
“Amelia, wait!” Blade calls, moving to follow me, but Frankie is quicker.
She sticks her foot out, and with perfect timing, Blade trips, crashing to the ground hard with a loud thud. “What the hell?” he shouts.
But it gives me enough time to get away.
Frankie is a good friend, the kind that would key your ex’s car with you at three a.m. just because you asked.
I keep walking, not looking back, but out of the corner of my eye, I catch the girl from class—the one who’d been staring at me—leaning against the wall, laughing and snapping a picture of Blade on the floor.
Good. Let the whole world see him like this. He deserves it.
···
“I’m not drinking any alcohol!” I shout to Frankie over the blaring music in the bar.
We’d been dancing, but we got tired, so we grabbed seats at the bar top. You’d think cheerleading would keep me in better shape, but after half an hour of dancing, I’m wiped out.
Frankie got us in without IDs because her dad owns a bunch of shares in the building or something like that. I don’t really understand business talk and how all of that works.
“Aw, c’mon!” Frankie pleads.
“He doesn’t like it when I drink without him around.” I can barely hear myself over the music, but I’m pretty sure she heard me.
“Ughh, you’re still thinking about what he wants?”
How do I tell her that I actually crave it—being told what to do, so I can please him? That I want to be good for him.
It’s crazy, isn’t it? After seeing all those pictures, I’m sitting here still wanting to follow his rules. Even going out of my way to do so.
Did I always like this relationship dynamic with past partners? I don’t know, I don’t really remember. I don’t even know when I realized that I started to enjoy it with Blade, I just know it lights a fire within me. Even thinking about it now, my entire body heats up.
When I don’t respond because of the whirlwind of thoughts in my head, Frankie says, “I’m going to get you a light drink, only 2% alcohol, how about that?”
“Fine,” I reply.
I might as well drink. She brought me to this bar to forget about the whole picture incident, so I might as well let loose and have a little fun.
When she returns from the bartender, she has two drinks. She hands me one—a red concoction with an orange peel draped over the rim of the cup. “I got you a fruit punch mixer! It tastes really good, you won’t even notice the alcohol.”
I take a sip, surprised by how good it tastes—just like the Turkey Hill fruit punch from the juice aisle of the grocery store. Time flies, and after a second drink, we head back to the dance floor.
Sweat beads on my forehead, and I feel exhilarated. This is exactly what I needed to forget all about the situation that I’m totally not thinking about right now.
I glance back and there’s a cute guy dressed in all black who comes up behind me. “Wanna dance?” he asks in a smooth voice.
“Sure, why not.” I shrug.
“I’m hurt. You’re supposed to say ‘Yes, I’d love to dance considering how handsome you are’.”
I chuckle, and he grabs ahold of my waist from behind.
We’re only two minutes into dancing when I turn around to face him. His gaze scans over my body, but when it lands on my neck, his expression shifts. His eyes widen so much I’m surprised they don’t pop out of his head. Without a word, he takes off, disappearing into the crowd like he was never here.
I look down to see what the hell scared him off and that’s when I realize it has to be the necklace.
Screw this thing. I reach behind me to unclasp it, my fingers fumbling with the latch. Just as I manage to get a grip, I feel a light tap on my shoulder. I turn, startled, to see Rhett standing there.
Great.
Did he really need to send him? He doesn’t have his own stalker when he’s off with other girls. Why should I have one?
“I wouldn’t take that off if I were you.”
I scoff. “So, I can’t have any fun? It’s a harmless dance but it just scared some guy away.” I gesture in the direction the guy vanished.
“Harmless or not, I can’t let you continue to dance with guys now that I’m here. He’ll have my head on a stick. Why don’t you just dance with me? I’m not too shabby with my moves. We can still have fun.”
“Fine. Whatever.”
We dance, leaving a few feet between us, making it through two songs before Frankie stumbles over, a red drink in hand. “I was just seeing if you wanted another—Rhett? What are you doing here? Wait, you’ve come and stolen my best friend from me!”
Clearly drunk, Frankie raises her glass like she’s about to throw it at him, but Rhett catches her wrist just in time.
“Frankie,” he warns, his voice low. “You throw that at me, I’ll text Asher right now.”
“Hey, hey, hey,” I interject. “I’m going to the bathroom. You guys dance together. Peacefully .” I look between them with a pointed look. “And when I get back, we can all three dance together. How about that?”
“Fine.” Frankie crosses her arms, but as her favorite song starts blasting from the speakers, she starts swaying her hips, pulling Rhett along with her. “Oh my God!”
I’m feeling a bit wobbly in these heels, but I manage to make it to the bathroom and do my business. As soon as I walk back out into the main lounge area, I bump into someone, the impact knocking me off balance.
“Easy now. You’re a little tipsy, huh?”
“Jacob? What are you doing here?” I glance up at him, noticing the gauze over his nose.
He chuckles and casually drapes his arm over my shoulder. “Does Aiden know you’re here?”
Huh? Why does he call him Aiden?
“I-I don’t know really. I don’t have my phone. Frankie took it.”
“Perfect.”
I scan the crowd and when my eyes finally land on Frankie and Rhett, I notice they’re distracted and dancing with each other. “Um, I’m gonna go back with my friends.”
“What’s the rush? Your little husband is probably still with his plaything, Catalina. Maybe you and I should fake some pictures, get back at them.”
He saw the pictures. My stomach churns and a wave of nausea hits me, and I bolt back to the bathroom. Jacob ends up following me, holding my hair while I puke into the toilet.
It reminds me of the time I had my first cup of wine way too young and ended up getting sick. He stayed with me while I threw up all night and even in the morning when I had a raging hangover.
I wash my hands and turn to thank him, but before I can say a word, his hand shoots out, shoving me against the tiled bathroom wall.
The atmosphere shifts, becoming thick with unease. His hands, which once were gently holding my hair back, now feel like shackles trapping me in.
“Jacob, what are you doing?” I whisper, dread pooling in my stomach.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he grabs my ass roughly, and my pulse roars in my ears, drowning out the music on the other side of the door.
His touch grows more invasive, and I can practically hear Blade’s voice in my head, his warning echoing loudly. Use the knife when you have to. Now I see what he means by what kind of monster Jacob is. He thinks I’m drunk and yet he’s trying to take advantage of me.
I swallow hard, forcing a shaky smile. “Jacob, you’re… I’ve always wanted this moment again.”
“Oh, really, now?”
I nod. “You don’t know how much I missed you.” I fake a giggle, leaning into the slur of my words as I bat my lashes, playing up the drunk girl act.
His eyes darken, but his grin spreads. He thinks he’s winning. Good .
I slide my hand down, brushing my thigh holster, my fingers grazing the cool metal of the knife Blade gave me. I place my other hand on his chest, dragging it down slowly. “I was waiting for you to come and make a move on me while he was gone.”
I have him right where I want him, thinking with his other head too much to notice the glint of steel now in my grip.
“You’re fucking sexy right now. Maybe we should go back to my place.”
I inch my hand lower, pretending to trace patterns on his chest. “Or maybe…” I whisper, flicking the blade open in one swift, practiced motion. “You should go to hell.”
Before he can react, I stab the knife straight through his hand, pinning it to the wall.
Jacob screams, thrashing around, but he’s stuck, blood seeping from where the blade pierced his flesh. His eyes widen, shock flooding his face. “You–you bi—”
The door swings open, and the man I came here to avoid steps through it. “I’d be very careful what you call my wife.”
I roll my eyes. He always likes using that wife word.
Blade turns to me. “Good job, baby. I heard everything. You handled it perfectly and I’m so proud of you.”
Despite my anger at him, I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips from his praise. Damn it, why does he do this to me? Make me feel things for him that I don’t want to?
It’s confusing.
I want to be mad for what he did, I should hate him, but in such a small time he’s trained my body to… be drawn to him. To crave him. To want him.
The daunting reality sets in that I want the villain, when my whole life I thought I’d be swept off my feet by a Prince Charming.