26. Pure Shine
Pure Shine
Connor
T he lights are dimmed in the ballroom of the Zeta house, and several couples step onto the dance floor.
The President Gala isn’t your average college Greek rager. It’s a black-tie affair, almost old-fashioned with its Champagne towers, the string quartets and fancy food—catering mishaps aside.
But the highlight of it all is the ceremony that gives the name to this night.
The official portrait of the current Zeta president will be unveiled and displayed in the President’s Gallery; for all its intents and purposes, this night is like an induction into the Hall of Fame for a professional athlete.
As I watch Candace dance in Corey’s arms and Shane and Luke sway slowly to a classical version of You Are In Love by Taylor Swift, my eyes search the room for Bex.
Since we decided to keep our relationship on the DL for now, I know that I’m going to be able to snag just one or two dances with her. Keene is in my same boat but Jamie promised to make it up to us if we want some extra one-on-one time with our girl.
He’s lucky to be the one dating Bex in an official capacity, but right now he looks anything but happy.
“What’s up?” I ask him, reaching him at the refreshment table at the same time as Keene.
There’s a frown on my best friend’s face as he looks around the room.
“Bex and I were supposed to dance when she comes back from the bathroom. She isn’t waiting in line by the bathroom downstairs, and she isn’t in the living room or the dining room.
I’ve looked for her in the kitchen too, but she isn’t there. She’s been gone for a while.”
That’s odd. Even if she wanted to freshen up her makeup, Bex isn’t the type to take forever to get ready. “Maybe she ate some of the weird buffet food and isn’t feeling well?”
Keene grimaces at the thought. “Even so, if she has food poisoning, we need to find her and take her home. Maybe Candace knows where she’s at?”
“Good thinking.” Jamie nods. “Let’s go ask her.”
I feel a little guilty for interrupting Candace’s dance with Corey, but Jamie’s agitation rubs off on me, and I get a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“Bex?” Candace looks around the room. “There was an endless line for the bathroom downstairs, so I gave her the master key to bypass the biometrics and use the one in my room. But it was almost twenty minutes ago; she should be back by now.”
“Maybe I was right that the buffet gave her food poisoning.” I suggest.
Candace glares at me. “That’s impossible.
She didn’t eat anything. No one did. All that food is going to go to waste.
I would donate it, but how can I donate food I’m not prepared to eat myself?
Anyway, it isn’t our food. She mentioned drinking some Champagne with you guys before coming over.
Maybe she’s a little tipsy? Bex isn’t a big drinker. ”
I doubt that because she just had two small flutes of wine, but I guess everything is possible.
“Right. I’m going upstairs to make sure she’s ok.” Jamie bites out.
“Let me come with you.” The Zeta president offers. “My bedroom door has some problems, and it doesn’t always lock when you close it. But I made sure to leave it locked before the party, so I gave Bex the master key, and the only way to open it without it is with my fingerprints.”
Keene looks impressed. “That’s some good security. But if your door is faulty, you should get it repaired.”
“Yeah, we called the company that built it to come and look at it. This high-tech stuff isn’t easy to fix, unfortunately. Anyway, follow me, guys. Hopefully, Bex isn’t feeling too sick.”
We follow Candace outside the ballroom. As we’re about to cross the foyer to reach the stairs, a man comes running down like a fury from hell, headed to the front door.
He runs so fast that it takes my eyes a second to catch up with the fact that he’s in our team’s workout outfit—is he a teammate?—and that he’s carrying a woman on his shoulder, fireman style.
By the time the guys and I realize that the blonde woman in a very familiar black dress is Bex, the man has managed to open the front door and is running past the Zeta house front lawn directed to a black SUV parked at the end of Greek Row.
“Fuck!” I shake off the initial shock and take chase before the man has totally cleared the front lawn. “That’s Bex!”
I run like the wind, aware that Jamie and Keene are right behind me.
I’m a fast runner on and off the ice, and the motherfucker is carrying Bex on his shoulder, so I’m confident that I’ll catch him. And once I make sure that the woman I love is in one piece, so help him God. Because I’m gonna fucking kill him.
Fate, however, has a sick sense of humor sometimes.
Star Cove is known for being one of the safest campuses in the country, thanks to our top-notch campus security.
The Dean is very aware of how much money the school gets from the Greek system. That means that official parties on Greek Row, like the Zeta Theta Beta President Gala, usually have a couple of campus security cars patrolling the area, and tonight’s no exception.
“Fuck! Get out of my way!” I yell, smacking the front hood of the campus security car that just rounded the corner and put itself between us and Bex.
To add insult to injury, the campus cops open both from doors, effectively blocking our way.
“Is there any problem here?” One of them asks, totally oblivious to what is happening right behind his back.
“Fuck this shit.” Jamie grunts. “You explain to these morons what they just did; I’m going after them. Close the fucking car door, will you? My girlfriend is being kidnapped.”
The untimely arrival of the campus police is exactly what the asshole who took Bex needed. Before the cops can get out of our way, we see the black SUV peeling off Greek Row.
“Motherfucker!” Jamie yells, and after that is complete chaos.
The campus cops don’t take kindly to being yelled at and threaten to arrest us. The situation is escalating quickly while some creep has Bex.
“Everyone calm down. Right now.” Keene raises his voice to be heard over the commotion, but he manages to keep his tone calm and authoritative. “I apologize for the way we spoke to you, officers, but we need your help.”
Bex
My head is killing me.
I have to remember to slow down with the Champagne next time. I don’t know if it’s morning, but I can already feel a hangover.
Did I pass out in Candace’s bathroom? My eyelids feel like they’re lined with lead and are too heavy to open.
The main things I’m aware of are a dull throbbing on my face and head and the burning in my throat. I’m also extremely uncomfortable, and my whole body aches.
Why does my head hurt this badly? I didn’t drink enough to warrant feeling as if I had been punched in the face…
Hold on a minute.
A flashback of being choked and punched in the face by someone in a hockey mask causes a wave of nausea to rise up my raw throat.
Panic sets in, and I attempt to bring my hands to my neck, to touch one of the spots that’s sending throbbing pain everywhere in my upper body. But I can’t.
My hands won’t move, and that’s what makes me finally find the strength to open my eyes.
A white light blinds me at first, and I have to blink several times to adjust my vision enough. That doesn’t do my killer headache any favors, and I have to inhale sharply to avoid throwing up.
At least now I can breathe. I take in as much air as I can, relieved that nothing is obstructing my airways.
The relief is short-lived though.
Because once my vision adjusts, I know exactly where I am. Cold dread makes me want to close my eyes again in the hopes that this is just a bad dream.
But no amount of closing my eyes will change the fact that I’m back in the Pure Shine house.
Not the main house, but the physical therapy center my father built within his compound. At first we were all elated that we could get massages and other physical therapy in house. Then we quickly realized that this was another way to control us and invade our entire lives.
Most of us were forced to come here once a week to be weighed and meet with a nutritionist.
That almost always meant that our calorie intake would be cut.
Once, after attending an event organized by one of my sponsors, I had gained two pounds.
After being berated about overindulging in the food served at the event, I was forced to drink a green smoothie laced with laxatives.
It became the norm every time any of us had gained weight.
The reason why I can’t move is that my arms and legs are bound to a massage bed.
I struggle against the leather straps to test them, but there’s no way I’m gonna be able to break free.
My assessment is confirmed by none other than my father.
“I wouldn’t waste my energy trying to break those straps, Rebecca. You aren’t going anywhere.”
His cold stare makes the temperature in the room plummet and goosebumps appear on my arms.
“Let me go, Dad.” I plead. “Please. I don’t know what you want from me, but there must be a better way to talk about it than with me tied up.”
“That would be true if you hadn’t snuck out of the bridal suite on your wedding day and skipped town. You proved to me that you can’t be trusted, so I’m sure you’ll understand if I need to take my precautions this time around.”
No, I don’t understand.
“What could you possibly want from me, Dad? Why am I here?”