23. Jude
Chapter 23
Jude
I open eyes groggy from too little sleep. For a moment, I just lie there, trying to claw back the memory of what woke me. Then my phone vibrates, and I snatch it from my nightstand with a grunt. A glare at the screen shows me two things—the time, and that I have sixteen missed calls. I sit up in a rush, one hand in my hair, the other unlocking my phone with the swipe of my thumb.
“Jude!”
“Alex? What’s wrong?” I grate out as I shuffle to my en-suite bathroom to take a leak.
“It’s Harper.”
I nearly miss the fucking toilet. “Harper?”
“You have to get to Sean’s house like right now.” Why is he whispering? “They drugged her, Jude.”
I switch on the light, my eyes narrowing to slits at the brightness as I try to force my brain to make sense of this. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
But Alex just keeps talking. “I called the cops, but you know Sean’s dad won’t come break up a house party at his own fucking house.”
Party. Harper. Drugged .
I end the call without saying a fucking word. I hop into a pair of sweats, snag a hoody from the back of my chair, and race barefoot down the stairs. I pause at the back door to deactivate the alarm, but my hand hovers in thin air because it’s not turned on.
My heart’s in my throat as I ram open the door and race around the house to my Range Rover. I slam the car door and twist the key in the ignition. Gravel sprays from under the tires as I peel out of the driveway. I’m staring behind me, one hand gripping the passenger side headrest as I hold down the gate’s key fob.
“Open, open, open!” I mutter through my teeth.
The one side of the gate scrapes against my fender as I back the SUV out faster than the gates can open. As soon as I’m on the road, I throw the gear shift into drive, and slam down my foot on the gas. My tires screech, and there’s a moment of frozen time where they can’t adhere to the surface of the road.
Then they grip.
The SUV lurches forward.
I leave my stomach behind as my truck rockets down the road.
The party’s still in full swing when I arrive. Someone, I’m guessing Alex, left the gate open. I jump out of the SUV, not bothering to close the door behind me or take the key out of the ignition.
Barefoot, dressed only in a hoody and sweats, I run over the lawn and weave between the parked cars. I slam open the front door, and it crashes into some guy standing too close. I couldn’t give a fuck if I’ve just broken his nose. Ignoring his yell of pain, I shove my way through the kids packed into the living room.
“Alex!” I bellow, but there’s no way I can compete with the blaring music. “Harper!”
“She’s upstairs,” a girl—fuck knows who—says.
I turn and race for the stairs, shoving the kids who are too drunk or fucked to move out of my way.
“Fuck you!” someone yells after me, but it’s all just white noise.
They drugged her.
I shove open every door on the second floor. I hammer on the first locked one I get to for a few seconds before moving on. My brain is screaming for me to slow down, to take stock, but there’s no time.
They drugged her.
I’m snarling, my hands in white-knuckled fists.
“Jude. Jude!”
Alex. I skid to a halt, carpet fibers scorching my naked feet. “Where?” is all I can manage through my tight throat.
He points to a door.
It’s closed.
My heart’s in my fucking throat, throttling me, suffocating me. I expect it to be locked, but the door opens. That’s how little they care about being discovered. About being seen.
Three guys. Sean, Daniel, Eric. Two on the bed, Daniel to one side with a cell phone. He’s the first to notice me. He’s the first to yell. But it’s not him I’m going for. When I grab Sean’s shirt and haul him away from Harper, he makes a surprised sound. But he doesn’t put up a fight until he’s on the floor like his reactions are delayed.
They drugged her. Guess they had some too. Good for me, bad for them.
My foot slams into his side, and he curls around the pain with a groan.
Eric swings around, and shuffles for the side of the bed. He’s got his dick out, but it looks like I got here just in time because he isn’t even hard yet. Or am I too late…and it’s already over?
Before he can make it off the bed, I grab a fistful of his hair and slam his head into the bedpost. He falls onto the floor without a sound and lies on the carpet like a dead thing.
Harper.
She’s still writhing, as if she doesn’t realize the guys who’d been pinning her down are gone. Her shirt is off, her bra askew and baring one nipple, but the rest of her clothes are still on. Her hands are gripping the sheets, twisting, and her eyes are wide open but staring at nothing.
Daniel is running for the door. I catch him before he can get past, grip his throat and slam him into the nearest wall. “What did you do?” I growl out, my voice as brutal as the fingers closing over his windpipe.
He drops his phone, grabs my wrists, tries to peel my fingers from his neck. I slam him into the wall again, and his eyelids flutter with pain. “Christ, Jude, nothing! I did nothing! They just told me to film!”
Just like Sean told me to film him and Monica doing it. God, that feels like a lifetime ago now. I throw him away from me because all I want to do is keep slamming him into the wall until he stops moving. I see him scramble back to get his phone, and I know I should have taken it from him and smashed it, but then Sean pushes himself to his feet and lunges at me.
We both go down. Wrestle. I manage a blow to his jaw, he fists me in the gut. The pain is intense, but focusing too. I grab his ears and head-butt him right in the nose. Blood sprays into my face. I taste it in my grimacing mouth. He screams like a fucking girl and lets me push him off.
I don’t care about him anymore. I need to get Harper the fuck out of here. Home, safe, away from all this shit.
And I need to leave before this fury turns to rage and I can’t stop.
I climb back on the bed, dress her. She tries to fight me, but she’s as weak as a fucking baby. Because she is a baby. She’s too young for any of this shit.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I berate her quietly as I drag her to the side of the bed.
My voice is too rough. It’s not her fault. She didn’t ask for this, didn’t deserve this. And the worst is I knew about this party. Sean even fucking invited me. This would never have happened if I’d come. I’d have seen them trying to pull this shit a mile away. I could have stopped this.
I could have protected her.
Even if she didn’t want me to.
“I’ll never let anyone hurt you again,” I murmur, moving aside a section of her silky hair. “I swear it, Harper.”
Her eyelids flutter a little at my touch, and then slowly open. She watches me for the longest time, but as if she’s looking through me. “Is it really you?” she whispers.
“Yes, it’s me. I’m here. You’re safe now.”
I scoop her into my arms, cradle her against my chest. She snuggles against me, and I can’t understand why it feels so fucking good. I head for the stairs, Alex ahead, pushing people out of the way. The worst way to do this—everyone’s gonna know. But maybe that’s for the best. I’m claiming Harper as mine. No one’s gonna fuck with her after this. No one will dare.
Halfway down the halls, she grabs my hoody and murmurs, “Don’t be mad.”
Alex glances back, sees me, comes back. “Jude?”
“Bring my car around the back, as close to the garage as you can.”
I’ve been to Sean’s house before. Came here to drop off notes for him when he was off sick for like three weeks back when I was a sophomore. His mother invited me into the kitchen for milk and cookies like I was five years old, and I felt too bad to say no. I was a fucking pushover back then. Before Mom died. Before Harper arrived. When everything was still going as well as could be expected.
With luck on my side, I can get Harper out through the kitchen without anyone seeing. Then it’s back home. Fuck knows what’ll happen when we get there.
Because despite Harper’s plea…I’m pissed. For her sake, I hope the drive home gives me enough time to cool off.