Chapter 2
Mary
I'm in my second-period class when someone comes in, walks directly to the professor, and hands him a note. He reads it, folds it, and looks up, his eyes roaming over the students until they land on me.
"Mary, please report to Dean Westwood's office. Now." He doesn't leave any room for argument as he goes back to the lecture and completely dismisses me.
I gather my stuff and leave the room, wishing I could go lock myself back in my dorm and not deal with any of this.
It doesn’t take long before I’m lightly tapping my knuckles against his door and his response comes immediately.
“Come in!”
As I enter, I’m hit with a familiar scent and bile rises in the back of my throat. I know it’s their dad, but I didn’t expect them to smell so similar. I wouldn’t doubt they share the same cologne.
Instantly I'm brought back to what happened that night—the way their hands felt on my skin, how I tried to stop them but couldn't get the words out. I take in a deep breath, trying to get my stomach to stop rolling, and lower myself into a chair across from his desk.
“How are you feeling, Mary? I was told you’ve been sick,” he asks, his voice coming out sincere. But I know better than to trust him. His sons learned their behavior from someone, and my guess—him.
“Yeah. Yesterday was my first day back.” I force a smile, but he sees right through me. He already knew I was back yesterday and that I ignored his request to see him then, but this time, I knew I couldn't get out of it.
“Do you know what was wrong? You must’ve gone to the doctor in order to be away for that long, right?
” I was worried about this. As a scholarship kid there are rules set in place, and I can only miss a certain amount of time.
I don’t remember what that was, but I didn’t care about that two weeks ago.
If I get dropped from my scholarship, I have nowhere to go—not unless I start applying for grants elsewhere.
Sweat sticks to my skin as I dig my nails into my palm.
“I—um. No—I mean…” I can’t seem to get the words out. The Dean lets out a belly laugh at my nervousness.
“I’m just joking. You’re fine, but…” He pauses, stands, and rounds the desk.
Once he’s in front of me, teetering on the wooden edge of his desk, he brings his hand up and pushes a piece of my hair behind my ear.
I jerk back, but he seems totally unaffected.
The playfulness dies in his eyes, turning to complete stone.
I shift back in my seat as if it'll give me more space, but it doesn't.
He's too close.
“If you tell a single soul what really happened, you will find yourself back wherever you came from. You and that little boyfriend of yours.” I stare up at him, my mouth open in shock. Of course he knows.
I’m not sure how to reply but he doesn’t give me enough time to think.
“As long as you keep quiet, your scholarship and Sebastian’s will be safe. If not, well—let's just say you’ll both lose a lot more than anyone else.” He walks back behind his desk.
His words are a kick to the stomach, driving all the air from my body.
“Do you understand, Mary?” I say nothing as I stare at him blankly, chewing on the inside of my cheek until I taste blood. I manage a small nod that isn't good enough. His expression grows turbulent.
“Words, Mary. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” The single word leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
"Good. We both know how short-tempered Sebastian is, and we don't need to cause a scene.
After all, things happen like that all the time at parties.
Girls get drunk and forget they gave consent.
It's no big deal if we keep this to ourselves.
" He smiles at me as if he’s solved the whole problem and didn't just tell me that what his sons did to me was my fault.
"I didn't—" I begin to defend myself, but he only holds up his hand, halting my words. I stand from the chair, ready to get the hell away from him.
"It's okay, Mary. My boys would never do anything you didn't ask for." Is this guy really trying to gaslight me right now? Some of my fire returns.
"I didn't give them consent to touch me. Drunk or not. They took advantage of that." I grit the words out, and he moves so fast I don’t see it coming. Next thing I know, my back hits the bookshelf behind me and his hand wraps around my throat, cutting off my words.
"Listen here.” His hand tightens around me, crushing my windpipe.
“ I was trying to give you an out here, Mary. I’m a very powerful man, and I could've easily made you disappear.
The headlines would read something about the poor orphan girl missing, and no one would even know.
Everyone has seen you sulking about campus.
Maybe they'd figure it was a suicide. It would be easy enough to make it look that way.
" His hot breath is on my face, and a single tear leaks from my closed eyes.
"But I didn't do that. Instead, I wanted to give you a chance.
That's why I'm sending Anthony and Tyler to live with their mother for the year.
So really, you should be thanking me." I open my eyes, and meet his unrelenting stare.
He pushes back on my throat before releasing me. I take a deep breath in and cough.
He steps back, giving me room before he continues. "Don't make me ruin your life, Mary. I will go to great lengths to protect my family. You stay quiet and everything will be fine. Understand?"
I don’t reply. I grab my bag from the floor and leave his office, slamming the door as I go.
***
If there was any chance at fixing things with Seb—working up the courage to say the words aloud—it's completely gone now. Dean Westwood stomped it straight into the ground. If I told Seb the truth now... we'd both lose everything.
I'm so deep in my thoughts about how to fix this that I'm not watching where I'm going until I collide with a wall. When I look up, it’s anything but a wall. Why does it have to be the one person I never wanted to see again?
Tyler scowls down at me, disgust written all over his face. His hands clamp onto my shoulder in a hard grip I'll be surprised if I don't have bruises by tomorrow.
"How did your talk with my dad go? Hopefully better than ours." Tyler seethes at me, venom lacing every word. Anthony stands behind him, his eyes darting around as if checking the coast is clear. He's always been more Tyler's little bitch than someone who takes action—he does what he's told.
"If you think in any way, shape, or form that my ‘meeting’ went in my favor, think again, Tyler.
This is all your goddamn fault. So don't go and try to blame me because the only way that you can get laid is by drugging and raping girls at parties.
" I'm not sure where this fire in me came from.
Maybe it's from this meeting. Maybe it’s because I know that I'm going to lose the most important person in my life because of these fucking assholes.
Right now I want nothing but to hurt them.
Tyler's hands leave my arms and one wraps around my throat, cutting off my airway. My nails dig into his skin, but he doesn't budge. Not once. Not even when he starts to bleed.
"Oh, sweet Mary. I'm not sure when you'll see the bigger picture here.
You weren't the target here—only collateral damage. I wanted to see Seb break, to take everything from him just because I can. And what better way than to take the one person he loves most?” My legs swing; I manage to kick him in the junk.
Only then does his arm falter enough to loosen his grip on my throat.
He quickly regains his composure, until I hear a familiar voice rushing toward us.
"Don't fucking touch her, you piece of shit." Ace storms up, grips Tyler by the back of his neck, and tosses him to the ground as if he weighs nothing.
My body slides down the side of the building and I cough, trying to pull air back into my lungs.
I don't hear anything they’re saying, but the next thing I know Ace is helping me stand and asking me something.
I just can't focus enough to understand his words.
Taking a few more breaths, he helps guide me.
"Are you okay, Mary?" His voice is soft, as if he's afraid to spook me. I manage to nod my head and push off the wall, knowing I need to get away from him. He's going to tell Seb everything.
Before I get too far away, he grips my arm and halts me.
"What was all that about?"
"Nothing. It's fine. And if you care at all about Seb, keep this to yourself." He opens his mouth, his brows dipping in confusion, but I don't wait around—I don’t want to give in and tell someone what’s really going on.