Chapter 9
Ryan
I slide into a seat in the third row, fifteen minutes before Introduction to Ethics starts. Things were a lot easier in high school when someone made sure I had the right spot, the right setup, the right everything. But colleges don’t do IEPs, so now it’s on me to make sure I get what I need.
After pulling out my laptop, I open up the assigned reading. “Utilitarian Ethics: Mill vs. Bentham”. Already read it twice, margins full of notes. A routine my ISS teacher taught me in middle school. It works, so I stick with it.
Can't mess up my grades and not earn my degree.
Being an accountant means steady work. A real house someday. And hopefully room for a kid who needs it, like Larry gave me.
My chest tightens. I still haven't called my foster dad to tell him about the marriage. Been a week, and I keep dodging it when we talk. Tried practicing what to say, but the words never sound right.
How do I even begin to explain it without making him worry?
And I don’t want to drag Larry into this mess. He gave me a home when I lost everything, stepped up for me when no one else did. If Connor ever saw my foster dad as a threat . . .
Can't let that happen.
Maybe tomorrow. Maybe I’ll say we eloped because we couldn't wait.
That's what Connor told the reporters, right? What they quoted in that “Walsh-Callahan Merger in Jeopardy After Heir's Surprise Marriage” article I read online last night? The one with our picture. Connor's hand on my waist. Me looking like a deer in headlights.
Hope Larry hasn't seen it.
“Fuck, morning classes should be illegal.”
My head snaps up as Merci Laurent drops his bag and slides into the seat next to me. His cropped yellow shirt is bright.
Really bright.
I swallow past the growing lump in my throat, stomach knotting. Why is he sitting here? There are plenty of other seats in the lecture hall.
Did Connor tell him to keep an eye on me?
Merci pulls out a laptop covered in glittery stickers. One says “Bitch” in sparkly letters. He catches me looking and grins. “Don't remember if I ever thanked you for helping get me out of that storage closet.”
“Anyone would've done it.” My gaze drifts to his hands on the laptop keyboard. “Do they still hurt? Sorry,” I say quickly, a flush climbing up my neck. “Shouldn't have asked that.”
He flexes his fingers, examining his nails. “They're fine. Mostly. Nails are growing back.”
The professor walks in, and I open a new document from my class notes template.
Merci groans. “Heard Professor Chen's a total dick about attendance. Zach literally had to drag my ass out of bed this morning.”
The lecture hall is quiet as the professor talks about consequentialism. I start typing as he explains the basics—weighing outcomes, greatest good for the greatest number.
My typing is slower than usual. I’m still not sleeping well. And who knows how long it’ll be until I rest decently again. Maybe I should get a mini recorder, make sure I don't miss anything important.
Connor’s exhausted too. And stressed. When he’s in the room, he’s constantly checking his phone. Slamming draws. Pacing. Can’t imagine what his family is putting him through.
And if I look his way, he growls or curses before throwing on his noise-cancelling Beats.
His lip is finally healing, though.
Professor Chen moves on to Kantian ethics, and I keep typing. Duty-based morality. Acting because something's right, not because of the outcome. Makes sense. Do the right thing even when it's hard.
This stuff will definitely be on an exam.
Next to me, Merci's texting on his phone, not paying attention at all. His choice, I guess.
When class finally ends, I save my notes and start packing up my stuff. Merci's doing the same.
“Come to lunch with me and Eli,” he says, shoving his laptop into his bag. “Look, I know about the whole forced marriage bullshit. Figured you could use someone to talk to who might understand.”
I freeze, mouth hanging open.
He rolls his eyes, hand on his hip. “Just because I’m dating Zach doesn’t mean I’m oblivious to what they are. And just so you know, he kidnapped me too. But it worked out in the end.”
Knight kidnapped him?
Jesus fucking Christ.
What is wrong with my teammates?
Merci’s staring, waiting for an answer. I want to say no, throw in my earbuds, and lose myself in Joan Jett while I run. But if Merci knows what it's like, maybe I can talk to someone without breaking Connor's rules. Maybe I don't have to handle this alone.
“Okay.”
“Good.” He slings his bag over his shoulder. “And just so we're clear, we're totally gonna shit-talk about all of them. But it stays between us. Got it?”
I nod. That I can definitely agree with.
We walk out of the building and then across campus. Still hot for September. My shirt's sticking to my back by the time we reach Crestwood University’s food court.
It's already packed, crowded, and noisy. I grab a turkey sandwich and water from the deli counter while Merci hits the grill station. We meet back up at the cashier.
“Where the hell is Eli?” Merci pulls out his phone while balancing his tray and sends a quick voice message. A few seconds later, it buzzes. “Table by the windows.”
We make our way through the crowded tables to where Eli’s sitting. He’s got a chocolate chip muffin and a half-eaten cobb salad in front of him.
Odd combination.
Eli looks up, blue eyes brightening the moment he sees me. “Hey, Ryan. So happy you're joining us.”
“Merci invited me.” I drop into the chair on Eli's left while Merci takes the one on the right.
“Oh, he texted me during your class.” Eli takes a bite of his salad. When he's done chewing, he continues. “I told him to make sure you came to lunch.”
“How else were we going to get the real scoop about you and Connor?” Merci takes a bite of his grilled cheese.
I groan and start eating. So, this was more of a chance for them to dig for information rather than wanting to hang out.
Eli puts his fork down. “We all know you two are married. My cousin-in-law is pissed off about it.”
Merci huffs. “He's such a dramatic fuckhead. Seriously, I'm going to try to kick his teeth out.”
I snort, nearly choking on my sandwich. Heard about Merci kicking Novotny in the face last semester.
Merci smirks. “See? Even Ryan thinks it's a good plan.”
I put my hands up. “No, no, no. I did not say that.”
Eli dissolves into giggles. “Don't worry. They already fought four days ago. Merci slapped the crap out of Viktor. Pulled his hair too.”
Merci sits taller, smirking. “Definitely ripped out a few strands.”
I take too large a bite of my sandwich. Sarah used to pull my hair when she was mad. Said it was the only way to get through my thick skull. I'd give anything to have my sister yank it one more time.
“Hey, Ry.”
Shit.
Warmth creeps up my neck as Kai approaches. Been avoiding him since this whole mess started. He’ll get involved if he finds out, and it's the last thing I want.
“Hey, Kai.” I put my sandwich down. “This is Merci and Eli.”
Kai rests his hands on the back of an empty chair. “Nice to meet you.”
Eli smiles widely, and Merci nods.
Kai looks back at me. “You look like hell. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just tired.”
“Tired? Ry, you look like you've been hit by a truck. Multiple times. Someone giving you problems?”
I shake my head. “No. I'm fine.”
“Uh, huh.” He stares longer than necessary—my skin tingles. “You know I've got your back. Always have.”
My throat tightens. “I know. Thanks.”
“Hit me up later.” We dap up, quick grip and release, then he heads off.
“I didn't know you had friends.” Eli picks off a piece of his muffin and pops it into his mouth.
I grab my sandwich, stopping halfway to my mouth, and stare at him. “I have friends.”
Well, one friend.
Eli blushes and chews his bottom lip. “Sorry, didn’t mean it like that. But he’s one of the Kings of Crestwood.”
“Who of the what now?” Merci takes a large sip of his milkshake.
Eli huffs. “Just another group of entitled nepo babies.”
Yeah, Kai's family has money. But he's different.
Eli looks back at me. “Does he know you’re married?”
“No. Haven't told him. Don't plan to either.”
Merci sets his cup down with a thunk. “Too bad. That guy looked like he could kick Connor’s ass. And I’d love to see it. Think your friend would do it for some cash? I pay well.”
I take a bite of my sandwich, chewing slowly. Kai would do it for free. And would destroy Connor. But I don’t need more problems right now. “Do not say anything to Kai. Or antagonize him. Please.”
He smirks. “Ooh. So, he would fight. Interesting.”
“Merci, please.”
He waves me off. “Fine. Though maybe I’ll find Connor’s stylist. How much do you think it’ll cost for them to accidentally run a clipper down the middle of his head?”
I laugh, covering my mouth. “You have no idea how obsessive he is about his hair. Spends thirty minutes making sure every strand is perfect. Even has a mirror to check the back.”
Eli breaks into a fit of giggles while Merci crosses his arms and pouts. “And Zach gives me shit for how long I take.”
I quirk a brow. “How long is that?”
Merci glares. “Longer than your husband. Can't rush perfection.”
I smile and run my hand over my hair. “Two minutes with clippers every few weeks. Done.”
“Alexei doesn’t take long with his hair. But that man takes forever in the shower. One time, he actually fell asleep under the hot water.” Eli's features scrunch up as he stabs at a tomato. “I ended up with ice cold water when it was my turn.”
“Connor's in there for forty-five minutes every day.” And I know what goes on during those long showers.
He’d grunted a bit too loudly once. Another time came out all flushed, with a noticeable bulge in the front of his towel.
The tips of my ears burn, and I shake my head quickly. Shouldn't be thinking about Connor that way. Or how he walks around after, damn towel hanging low on his hips, hair dripping wet.
And I look. Every damn time. At the water trailing down the valley of his spine to those dimples at the small of his back. At how his muscles ripple when he reaches for his clothes. At his perfect ass—round, firm, and compact.
Hate myself for it, but I still look, still imagine how my hands could easily cover each cheek entirely.
I clear my throat, grab my water, and take a big gulp as I rub my thighs together, my cock starting to fill.
“At least the dorms don’t run out of hot water.” Merci tosses a fry at Eli. “Maybe you should stop going to Jersey so much.”
Eli sticks his tongue out at his friend.
But cold water isn’t my problem. It’s the fact that I can't shower until Connor leaves, until I can jam a doorstop under the door to make sure no one can get into our room.
Been late to class because of it.
If only I could get past what happened. Shower in peace without being so fucking scared someone might—
Laughter creeps into my thoughts. Their laughter. The way it echoed off the tiles. My hands start shaking, and I grip the edge of the table.
It’s solid, textured. Not tile. Not the bathroom.
“Ryan?” Merci’s voice seems to come from far away. “You okay?”
I blink and look around. Sunlight filters in through the towering windows. Chairs scrape against the floor. Still here. Still at lunch. I let go of the table and take a breath. “Yeah.”
His eyebrows are pulled together as he watches me. “You sure?”
I nod, finishing up the last of my sandwich. Last thing I need is to break down in front of the entire food court.
Eli picks at his muffin again. “I heard you run. We should go together sometime.”
“Sure.” Might be nice to have company.
“I will never get people who think running is fun. That's just fucking weird.” Merci tosses the remainder of his grilled cheese onto the tray. “So, how did Captain Asshole get you to marry him? Doubt it was willingly.” He looks at me, quirking a brow. “Or was it?”
I fidget with the water bottle, peeling the sticker off as I get hot all over. Heard Viktor mentioning seeing the whole kidnapping part on his pet cam. Surprised he didn’t fill everyone in.
“We’re waiting.” Merci drums his fingers on the table.
“He’s threatening my scholarship.” I rub the back of my neck. “And held me at gunpoint.”
Merci slams his hands down on the table. “What the fuck! You’re shitting me.”
Eli grabs his phone, his features scrunched as his fingers fly across the screen. Not sure who he’s texting, but knots form in my stomach. My situation sucks, yet it's been calmer recently. I can't handle Connor going back to his threats.
“I won’t be going to Jersey anytime soon. Placing my husband on a sex ban.” Eli slams his phone down onto the table, face beet red. “Can you believe those assholes all knew about the gun?”
Merci rolls his eyes as he takes another sip of his milkshake, then swallows. “You're surprised? Really? Zach had me chained up in a fucking warehouse.” He looks at me. “At least you didn't have to piss yourself because you couldn't reach a bathroom.”
My jaw drops and I stare at him, unblinking. I'm at a complete loss. Chained up? And he stayed with Knight.
What do I even say to that?
No way I'd ever consider staying with Connor after what he did to me.
We go back to finishing our lunch. Merci asks about Eli's newest sculpture project. Turns out he's an art student. He even shows us some of his latest sketches.
“All right, give us your number.” Merci wipes his hands on a napkin. “In case you need to vent about this shit or whatever.”
“We can be your support team.” Eli blushes, eyes wide and bright. “And friends . . . if you want.”
I want to say no, but honestly? Having more than one friend sounds nice. And having people to talk to about this nightmare sounds even better. “Okay.”
We exchange numbers and, for a moment, it feels normal, like I'm just a regular college student. But then reality hits. These two are still Connor's friends—part of his group.
When all this ends, when Connor doesn't need me anymore, will they stick around? I hate that I already know the answer.
But for now, I'll pretend this can last.