25. Rosalie
TWENTY-FIVE
Rosalie
T he video plays on a loop, mocking me.
I’m on the floor, knees pulled to my chest, my pulse pounding so loudly it drowns out everything else. Jay, Ethan, and Aiden are scrambling, trying to figure out damage control, but I can’t move. I can’t think.
I just keep seeing it.
Me—smirking, taunting Kix Lyle.
Me—telling him to fuck himself because Vaughn sings better.
Me— shoving him. Watching him tumble down the stairs. Laughing. I didn’t stop laughing.
I suck in a breath, but it’s shaky.
This isn’t real. It can’t be real.
A hot tear rolls down my cheek and I barely register the way Aiden sets a cup of tea beside me, his voice gentle as he offers it. I shake my head. My stomach is twisted into knots.
“They’re going to arrest me,” I whisper. My voice sounds foreign. Hollow. “This is it.” And maybe they should. If I’m capable of doing something like this, then they should arrest me.
Ethan’s phone vibrates violently against the table—call after call, emails flooding in like an alarm bell ringing just for me. I’m fucked.
“Mr. Huntington, of course, I have—” Ethan mutters before striding out of the room. It’s way past 10 p.m. and everyone is still up and running around for me. Because I am who I am…
I blink at the screen again, at the image of myself grinning like a goddamn psychopath. Was this all worth the bliss? Was this worth it? Just to be seen? Does Daddy see me now?
Jay sits in the chair beside me. When I look up at him, his expression is unreadable. Then, without a word, he hauls me up and into his lap, and my body collapses against his like a puppet with cut strings.
What was I even thinking? My reckless behavior inevitably led to this moment. It was only a matter of time before everything collapsed. And now I’m not even sure if I can come back to Julliard on Monday.
“I hurt him…” My voice cracks. “I laughed when he fell. He got hurt, and I laughed.”
Jay tightens his arms around me, his warmth anchoring me as my whole world spins out of control. “I watched it ten times, Rosie. We only see your hands. It still could all be staged. That’s Charlotte’s doing. It’s also not a coincidence that they released this clip now. We pissed them off.”
“But what if it’s not staged?” I choke out. “What if I was that wasted? What if I thought it’s funny to—”
“This wasn’t you,” Jay interrupts. He presses a kiss to my forehead, grounding me somehow. “We’re getting this sorted.”
Ethan storms back in, laptop in hand. “Okay. We have a plan. You’re going to the police on Monday.”
I lift my head sluggishly. “What did my dad pay to stop them from dragging me in tonight?”
“Don’t ask.”
I exhale shakily and bury my face in Jay’s chest. My entire body feels wrong, like my skin doesn’t fit anymore. “I feel sick.”
“I have a toilet you can puke in,” Ethan offers dryly before turning the laptop toward me. “But maybe this will make you feel better.”
The screen is a blur at first. Then, my name. My bloodwork. And one glaring word.
GHB.
My stomach lurches. Just like Kix.
“The ‘date-rape’ drug,” Ethan says, reading from the screen. “Causes euphoria, makes you giggly, uninhibited. All of what we just witnessed in the footage we reviewed. But the drug also causes anterograde amnesia—meaning you don’t remember jack shit after taking it. Small doses make you feel drunk, but higher ones? Well…” He gestures to the screen. “You could black out entirely. Which you probably did at some point.”
My breath hitches. “In the car. When I woke up in the car.”
Jay grips me tighter. “We can take this to the police.”
Ethan nods. “Along with the bar footage, it reveals they dragged you around and made you drink stuff. We’re tracing the source of the video. If Peter uploaded it, we’ll locate him. Or whoever uploaded it.”
I blink at him, my mind still struggling to catch up. “We?”
Ethan leans back. “Your dad.”
“No.” I shake my head. “He can’t just—”
“Tell him that,” Ethan says. “I’m not about to argue with your father. If he wants to make Peter’s life hell, I say let him.”
I want to protest, but my brain is too fogged, too overwhelmed. Before I can even process that, Ethan drops another bomb.
“We have something else to deal with. Kix Lyle woke up.”
Jay and I both freeze.
“When?”
“No idea. But according to your lawyer, the police haven’t talked to him yet.” Ethan exhales sharply. “Which means we still have time.”
My stomach churns. “Time for what?”
Ethan shuts the laptop, eyes gleaming with something dark. Dangerous. “To talk to him ourselves.”
“What? How?”
A slow smirk spreads across his face. “Let’s just say I know someone who owes me a favor. It’s not exactly legal, but lucky for us…” He leans forward. “We’re not just anyone, are we, Miss Huntington?”