Chapter 23
Hadley
It was so stupid that I never took the seat.
I mean, I’d been sitting in the car for a couple of hours, and standing was a nice change, but they were all sitting, and standing was just awkward now.
Savannah was telling Noah and Dante about the trip; she was very good at telling a synopsis. I, maybe, needed to get her to read more of my stuff to cull it for word count. Dustin was also paying attention; in fact, he was very pointedly not looking at me. Was he pissed I never replied to him?
“So she just told you all this stuff?” Noah asked dubiously.
Savannah looked my way. “Well, she’s a friend of Hadley’s, kind of.”
“Kind of?” Dante asked. Eyes on me, cool, appraising, not at all intimidating. Yeah, right.
“Yeah, she owed me a favor.”
Could I leave? Was that polite? Did I care if it wasn’t?
“She spilled all that for an owed favor?” Dustin scoffed. “What the hell did you do for her?” His tone was playful, and the others laughed, but somehow it just pissed me off even more. Savannah hadn’t laughed. She looked torn between saying something and saying nothing.
“She fucked my boyfriend behind my back, and then married him,” I said with more bite than necessary. “We done here? Can I go?”
The room went silent. Savannah’s eyes closed as she winced at my flat delivery.
Dustin cursed under his breath. “I . . .”
“Save it,” I said, waving him off. “They’re married, they’re happy, I really don’t care.” I smiled at them all. Flat. Lifeless. “I found what I needed. I just need the address, Savannah. You can get me that, right?” She looked at me. “For Tiffany?”
Dante squeezed her knee. I saw it, she felt it, she looked at me, and I rolled my eyes.
“Are you serious? A knee squeeze?” I snapped. “I’m not involving her,” I told QB10 forcefully. “She got in my car. She invited herself on my trip. She walked into the house with me.”
“What else would you have her do?” Dante asked me.
“She could have sat in the car.” I gave them my no-bullshit voice. “Or just not got into it in the first place.”
“I’m still here,” Savannah told us both.
“The knee squeeze is not Dante telling me what I can and cannot do. Dante doesn’t dictate my life to me.
The knee squeeze is someone reminding me to take a breath before I jump in with both feet.
” She squeezed his knee. “I don’t need to be reminded,” she said gently.
“Not about that.” Her cool stare landed on me, and she looked disappointed again.
“You’re talking like my involvement in this is over.
I get you the address, and what? I’m done? ”
I hesitated. “Um . . .”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you serious?” She looked pissed.
“I . . . I just don’t know if you want to be any further involved,” I said lamely.
Her eyes were like slits. “I’m really sorry Mary was a shitty friend,” Savannah said bluntly.
“I’m really sorry you think someone who stabs you in the back and sleeps with your boyfriend merely owes you a favor in return for that betrayal.
And I’m really sorry they skewed your perception of decent people.
” She leaned forward. “I’m staying on this.
This affects my boyfriend, and my friends.
It may just be a story to you, Hadley. To me, it affects people I care about and their future.
My dad is dean here for Christ’s sake, you think I’m not invested? ”
“I’m not saying any of that,” I replied flatly.
“But this really isn’t about your friends, or your dad’s school.
This is about a girl who is missing, who was hurt here, and who was silenced.
That’s my story. That’s my focus. Everyone else in this room has a choice; I don’t think Tiffany did, and if her not having a choice is okay with any of you, then fuck you. ”
“Let’s not lose our heads here,” Dustin spoke up for the first time.
“It’s a sensitive subject, it’s multi-faceted.
It’ll take care and consideration to work it out for all involved.
” He held my gaze. “Yeah, that includes you, Hadley. Savvy got involved with you when she got in your car. You got involved with Savvy when you didn’t demand she leave it. ”
Well . . . whatever.
Dante was watching me, and I refused to back down. He saw it too, and when he spoke, his voice was soft.
“What Sav was trying to say, and perhaps didn’t put across well, is that this is a scoop to you, Hadley. But whatever you find could directly affect three of the people in this room, and almost everyone in this building.”
“Almost everyone?”
“Well, I don’t think you give a fuck about the consequences as long as you get the story,” he said coldly. “So I excluded you.”
I stepped back at his brutal honesty.
“I care about the outcome.” I looked around at all of them.
“I care that there’s a girl out there who this school silenced.
I care that she’s been dealing with the consequences of that ever since.
I care that there’s someone out there who hurt her and hasn’t been held accountable.
I care that your program covered this up.
So yeah, I care about the consequences, because there needs to be consequences. ”
“You care about the fact that they took down your blog and put you on probation.” Dustin didn’t flinch from the glare I gave him.
“This story about a cover-up? It justifies that you had a story to begin with. It reinforces the fact that you should have posted about it before.” He didn’t look away.
“Do I believe you care about Tiffnay? Yes, I do. We all do. But don’t stand there and be a hypocrite.
You want this story for you, just as much as we want it for us.
And—” he spoke over my protest — “we can all agree we want justice for Tiffany, but we are all entitled to ask ourselves at what cost.”
I took a deep breath and knew I was glaring at them all.
“This program is rotten. It’s a pile of steaming shit.
Every single one of you should be fighting me to tell this story yourselves, not be worried about what spin I put on it.
” I shook my head. “You’re in your junior year.
You could have all opted to declare for the Draft after the win, but you chose to stay.
You chose to stay here. If you’re so worried about how my story affects you, transfer. ”
I headed to the door, then turned back and looked at them, my anger clear.
“But don’t sit there and tell me to worry about consequences when you are only worried about yourselves and your careers.
Who the fuck was thinking of her life when this happened?
Or Mason’s, if he’s innocent?” I opened the door.
“You want to come at me for being single-minded, look in the mirrors first.”
I walked out.
What the fuck had that been? Who did he think he was? Who did any of them think they were? I jogged down the stairs and then out into the evening, the door slamming off the wall as I exited the building.
“Assholes.”
“Rude.”
I screamed in surprise and then turned to glare at Dustin. “What the fuck do you want?” I demanded harshly as I resumed walking.
“Nothing.”
I glared at him. “Why are you following me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” He pulled his hoodie up and lowered his head slightly to avoid being recognized.
I stopped walking and confronted him, hands on my hips. “What are you even doing?” I gestured wildly in the air. “You are on every second banner in this school. Everyone knows it’s you, Slater. What are you so afraid of them seeing?”
He watched me calmly, his head cocked to the side. “I’m not afraid of much,” he said. “People talking isn’t on the list.”
I sighed loudly and resumed walking. “So you came out for a fight. Fun times.”
“Nope. Wrong again.”
I would not give him the satisfaction of asking.
I would not. Nope. Not me.
“Then why are you here?”
Damn it, Hadley!
“You seemed pissed. You’re also not very popular, did you know that?” He seemed genuinely curious.
Asshole.
“I’m not on a lot of Christmas card lists,” I conceded, not really caring at all.
“That video went viral.” He spoke as if the last ten minutes hadn’t happened. “I’m getting a lot of negativity about it.” He also sounded pissed off about that.
I snorted. He deserved it. Manwhore.
“So are you.” Dustin carried on casually as I stalked home, my steps fast and furious, rounding the back of the library, and taking the shortcut. “Not just comments about you being insane, obviously.”
“Obviously,” I muttered.
“Or desperate,” he carried on, like I hadn’t spoken.
“Desperate?” I shot him a look.
“Yeah, you know, running after my fine ass, you don’t look like you’re playing hard to get. It just looks like you’re an easy lay.”
Oh my God. I just . . . Wow.
“I’m surprised you can lift your head off the floor,” I growled. “It’s obviously so big to say something like that and not even pretend to be humble. You blow my mind.”
“I’d totally blow your mind.”
I stopped again. We were half a block from my apartment. A fire exit light flickered behind me, and then sputtered out.
“Sex?” I was rapidly nodding like a lunatic; I was so close to losing my temper. “We’re back to sex? Again? You know what? Just do it. Come home with me. Fuck me, then do us both a favor and fuck off. I am so tired of you bragg—”
He moved into my space so quickly that I barely registered the movement.
One moment, I was talking, arguing, refusing to take any more shit.
The next, his hand caught the side of my jaw, fingers threading into my hair, and his mouth crashed into mine with a force that took everything — breath, thoughts, equilibrium.
It was a collision, like he was trying to silence the argument, the distance, the entire day with one brutal, blistering kiss.
I gasped, stumbled, grabbed at his shirt because he didn’t ease up, didn’t hesitate, didn’t give me space to think or breathe or protest. His mouth was hot and fierce and frustrated against mine, every second saying stop talking, stop running, stop fighting me.