Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
HANNAH
My mother is going to kill me.
Fuck that, my father is going to kill me.
My back slumps against the cold, brick wall, the fluorescent lights shining in my eyes. This outfit doesn’t fit this questioning room, and neither do I.
Was this part of Rye’s plan?
Was this his ultimate revenge?
My hands turn to fists as my head falls against the wall. Being in this room reminds me of what the Rowens stole from me. My power.
I should never have trusted them.
“Miss Alfonso?” My chest tightens when the officer enters the room. What will they ask me? Can I prove that text wasn’t real? “You’re free to go.”
My brows furrow, staring at him. He widens the door, stepping back as if he’s waiting for me to go through.
Clearing my throat, I straighten my stance as reality sinks in. “Of course, I am,” I say, hiding the shake in my voice. “I told you, I don’t belong here.”
“We’re just doing our job.” The officer’s eyes drop to my chest before my arms come across my body. “I’ll escort you out.”
“I should have you sued,” I spit, following behind him. The stained white walls and musty smell of the precinct only add to my disgust.
“Don’t worry, you aren’t the first one to use a sex tape as an alibi.”
My stride slows, a pang in my chest. “Excuse me?”
He lets out a throaty laugh as we make our way back into the main room. “You’re free to go, honey.”
Ignoring his words, I step into the precinct’s main room, ready to get the hell out of here.
“Hannah.”
My eyes move to that familiar voice, that pain in my chest returning.
Rye leans against the front desk, his hands in the pockets of fitted black denim, his plain black tee fitting to his muscles. He leans his elbow on the desk like everything’s fine, like he’s having a casual chat at the bar, his black cigarette twirling between his fingers.
A rush of heat fills me, his eyes darting around my body as if he’s looking for something. I hate the way those dark lasers hit me, burning with every stop.
Our eyes lock, my heart flutters before a dagger strikes through it.
He’s the reason I’m here.
Keeping my head high, I make my way towards the door. It's hard to ignore the officers’ eyes as I pass their desks. Some of them chuckle, the others whistle.
“Where can we find more videos, sweetheart?” one asks.
“Hannah.” Rye’s hand comes to my wrist before I can pass him, a jolt firing through me.
I tug it away. “Don’t you dare.” My voice is a harsh whisper.
His eyes narrow. “That’s no way to thank me.”
“Thank you for what? Locking me away in a room for hours?”
“That wasn’t me.”
“And you had nothing to do with your sister framing me? I haven't heard from you in days!” I hate how high-pitched my voice sounds, fury fuelling it. “You walked away after you told me not to!”
“Hannah,” he warns, but he doesn’t get to do that. “Calm the hell down.”
“You know what she needs, don’t you?” The same officer behind the desk pipes up again. He chuckles, “Go ahead, calm her down.”
Looking around, officers stare at me like I’m naked. My hands come to my arms before my eyes move back to Rye. “Did you tell them about your sister?” I ask. He looks around the room before taking a small step towards me, and that tells me enough. I take a step back. “What did you tell them?”
“Hannah, let’s—”
“You had a week to answer me!” My poise? Gone. My control? Non-existent. The time for calm and collected is long past. “I’m not waiting anymore. What did you tell them?”
“I told them where you were.” He shrugs. “At my party.”
“Did they ask for proof?” He glances around the room again as my fists clench. “Tell me, or I tell them.” His eyes lock with mine. Sharp. Glaring. Consuming. But he doesn't answer. "Fine."
When I turn towards one of the officers, Rye’s hand lands on my wrist before I pull it away. Then his words hit me harder than my mother ever has. “I have a video from that night. I showed them.”
The room spins, the snickers and the comments louder than the blood in my ears.
My knees shake, my eyes searching for the guy I left at that party. “You didn’t save me.” I feel the burn in my throat, the blur in my eyes. “You sold me out.” And with that, I march right out the door.
It’s hard to take a breath, even with the cool air hitting my face.
He showed them a video? What the fuck is wrong with him?
“I kept you out of a cell, Alfonso!” His voice calls from behind me. “You should be thanking me. Not being a fucking brat.”
“A brat?” Turning around, I face him again, his scowl meeting mine.
“You just showed me off like a trophy, and you’re calling me a brat?
You’re as delusional as the rest of your friends.
And you’re just like your sister. If anything, she should be thanking me.
Instead, she’s out there telling everyone I had something to do with the death of your father when she was the one covered in blood! ”
“Quiet, Hannah.” He speaks through clenched teeth, his eyes moving around the parking lot before they lock on mine again. “You sound hysterical.”
“You want hysterical?” My nails dig into my skin. “I’ll march right back in there and tell them what actually happened.”
“With what proof?” His words are low and cold.
“They just need to take a closer look to see that your sister isn’t the redemption story she’s making every idiot on campus believe she is.”
“Don’t be mad you lost control.”
“All this is a game of power for you. You forgot that this is my life!” I laugh, feeling ridiculous for where I am and how I got here. “If she’s doing what she has to do, I’ll do the same.”
He takes a step closer, invading my space, that bittersweet scent overtaking me. “Threaten me and my family one more time, Alfonso.”
“You scared?” Another laugh escapes me while the muscles in his neck look like they'll pop. “Tough. You don’t control me anymore.”
Pushing past him, I give him that same shoulder snub his sister gave me. I refuse to make him see how flustered his hard body against mine makes me feel when he hardly moves.
“Where are you going?” he calls after me, his voice sounding more tired than threatening.
“Anywhere far away from you!” I call back, flipping him the bird like some trailer trash from The Valley. I hate what he brings out in me. I hate that he makes me lose control, and I’m sick of it.
Without thinking, I send Ember my location, followed by a text.
Hannah: sos - pls come get me?
She's proven to be the only one who cares enough to help.
My arms folded over my body, I don’t miss the gawks and stares of cars passing by as I storm onto the narrow road.
Locals don’t ever see an Alfonso walking on the side of a street on the outskirts of town.
My mother's right. I'm embarrassing. He's embarrassing.
I thought the last week meant something. I thought they were on my team.
I’m only a few minutes from the precinct when the hum of an engine comes to my side, headlights appearing next to me. “Get in the car, Hannah,” Rye says. “We’re not done.”
“I’d rather be eaten by a pack of hyenas.” My eyes dart to the forest next to me, my pace quickening.
His car moves with me. A shiny silver vintage Mercedes as old as his father’s money. “Let me fix this.”
“You can’t fix this.” I’d be lying if his presence by my side on this dark road didn’t bring some sort of twisted comfort. But I won’t let him know that.
“I will. Get in.”
“I’m so sick of you controlling me.” My arms tighten across my chest. “This is your mess. Fix it without me.”
“Your hands aren’t clean either, Hannah. Or did you miss Krystal’s slideshow?”
That makes me stop in my path. “Fuck you. And her. And your twisted fucking family.” Another car slows, and when I glance at the driver, it’s a guy from the football team.
I give him my meanest look, my eyes in slits before he drives away.
When my eyes shift to Rye, he smirks, and I want to claw his face out. “Why don’t you all leave me alone?”
“Okay, I messed up.” His car comes to a stop beside me. “Let me make it up to you.” Another car whizzes by as he reaches over to open that iconic Gullwing door. Ryung keeps it as classy as Bond, even when he’s being an absolute prick. “Get in. Please.”
“Why the hell should I do that?” It’s hard to ignore him when I can smell him from here, that sweet musk pouring from his car. Warmth comes with it. “My parents think I’m useless. So do my friends. So please tell me how you plan on fixing this?”
“I have a plan.” His eyes soften, like when our bodies press together or when he’s making me climax to the heavens.
“Does your plan include your sister in jail where she belongs?”
His head falls against the headrest. “I’ll start by making sure no one sees you walking home at night alone in The Hill.
” On cue, another car speeds by, slowing when they see us before continuing.
“I need you—” A wave of flutters fills my chest, my eyes locking on his as he lets out a hard exhale. “To get in the car.”
“Of course you do.” My shoulders drop, that word still reverberating through my head. Need.
“Don’t do it for me,” he says, pointing his jaw towards a pink box on the dash. “Do it for the eclairs.”
The tension in my jaw slacks. “Chez Antoine?”
“Is there anything better?”
“You’re weaponizing pastries now?”
“I’m desperate.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I let him hit that spot. That soft spot in my gut that drives my stomach into a spin cycle. A cold gust of wind rips through me, the chill settling on my warm skin.
“Drive me home,” I say, moving towards the car. “And I’m taking the whole box.”
He lets out a soft chuckle that helps melt the tension in my chest as I move towards the car. “Deal.”