Chapter Eighteen #2
To his credit, Everest answers smoothly, his voice remaining measured and confident.
I knew he was charming, but I can’t say I’ve ever paid this much attention to him in a public situation beyond the academy before.
As it stands, I’d rather pay attention to him than those gawking at us, pens poised on notepads.
I chime in when prompted, careful to keep my tone balanced, but my face remains angled to Everest as if he’s the only one in the room.
Not because I want to, but because he’s the safest option for me right now.
Better the devil you know, and all that.
His hair catches the light, a golden halo framing his head.
His eyes are stark now, sparkling green as he gazes upon his audience with the familiarity of someone who’s often in the spotlight.
Upon closer inspection, he’s in a perfectly tailored suit, the fabric framing his broad shoulders.
It’s not black as I had originally thought, but a dark charcoal.
In the limo, he’d whipped out a tie in the exact same red as my dress, which I did not watch him do out of the corner of my eye.
Also, just to add, I didn’t find such a simple act hot, because anyone can knot a tie with practiced fingers.
There’s nothing sensual about flicking a strip of silk around as if it’s been done a million times before.
And I absolutely, one thousand percent, did not remember the way his hands were on my body in my bedroom. That night no longer exists in my mind.
A hand touches my thigh, and I flinch, coming back to myself with the feeling of free-falling back to earth.
Blinking up, I note the flash of concern in Everest’s expression before he returns to the questions.
They’re coming faster now, one picking up on the end of the last. Everest fields most of them effortlessly, successful in wrapping up the panel without incident. That is, until we attempt to stand.
“Miss O’Connor, if you wouldn’t mind,” a man in the front room holds up his hand.
I glance at Everest, swallow and settle back into my seat.
Everest retracts the hand he had placed on my back, the cold loss of it instant.
I might as well be on a rowboat without any paddles, cast out to sea to simply drift away.
Bracing myself to speak on the pressures of leadership, the demands of maintaining a healthy gender balance, and how we’re going to represent the academy with integrity, I nod for the journalist to continue.
“You’ve shown great resilience over the past year, given your time in a rehabilitation unit. Do you have any concerns about a mental relapse in the height of championship season?”
I freeze, the oxygen around me dissipating. The moderator to the side of the stage locks her spine, glancing down at her tablet before looking back up at me with a smile that appears far too sympathetic. Did she not feel the need to brief me? I force my mouth to open.
“I—” The words stick. My palms dampen instantly, heart tripping into a faster rhythm. “Rehab was… it was a medical decision. I needed support due to…to….”
“You’re referencing your kidnapping,” another pitches in, this woman further back in the crowd. “The individual responsible, he still hasn’t been apprehended. Does that uncertainty affect your sense of safety? Do you worry he might attempt contact again?”
In my peripheral vision, a few cameras lift higher.
My mouth dries and my throat tightens so fast, it hurts.
For a split second, I’m not under golden lights in an ivy-clad building.
I’m somewhere else entirely. Cold air reaches my lungs, restraints biting into skin, the metallic scent of panic filling my senses.
Images flicker behind my eyes, the darkness starting to close in.
“Do you believe he’ll come back?” another journalist calls out. Heat floods my face. My pulse is roaring in my ears now, loud enough that I barely register the shift beside me until Everest moves. His hand comes to rest firmly over mine, where it’s clenched in my lap.
“This line of questioning isn’t appropriate,” he says smoothly, locking his gaze on mine.
I grip onto it, the greenness pulling me back in with the tide.
“Meg has demonstrated extraordinary strength and discipline returning to the lacrosse program. That’s what tonight is about.
Not dramatizing her trauma. We’re done here. ”
I’m pulled to my feet, drawn along by the warm press of fingers curled around my hand.
I don’t bother looking back to gauge the crowd’s reaction, to try to guess what their write-up might be.
I just force one heeled foot in front of the other, the cold air washing over my body.
I inhale deeply, trying to steady the tremor beneath my ribs.
My composure feels brittle around the edges, one swift move away from snapping, yet I continue walking.
The limousine nears, the door popped and I’m eased inside with a gentle hand on my head.
I hardly move, becoming stiff as the aftershock takes root.
I was foolish to think my past wouldn’t play a part in this evening.
After all, my tarnished, unstable reputation is the reason I didn’t want to co-captain the team in the first place.
Leather cushions my back for merely a minute before I’m eased forward, the weight of a jacket being wrapped around my shoulders. My seatbelt is drawn across me and fastened in place, then I’m tucked into a solid side. Flashes of light bombard the windows until we peel away from the curb.
“Did you know?” I breathe shakily. There’s no need for clarification. Everest kept this evening’s events a secret for a reason. Beside me, despite the comfort he’s successfully applying, he hesitates.
“I suspected it might come up, but not so boldly.” I glance at him then, studying the sharp lines of his profile softened by the passing streetlights.
I wish I was angrier with him, but there’s too much going on between the thumping of my chest and the blurring of my thoughts.
It’s not like the line of questioning wouldn’t have come up another time, I just wish I’d been more prepared for it.
Silence settles between us for the rest of the drive.
When the car pulls up outside my apartment block, Everest steps out first, scanning the darkened pathway as if the paparazzi might jump out of the shadows.
He waits for me to join him, then walks beside me all the way to the building’s entrance.
Inside, the hallway is quiet, fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead.
He follows me up the stairs and along the hallway without comment, stopping outside my door. My gym bag rests on the front mat.
“It’s done now,” Everest states plainly as I lift my bag. “For what it’s worth,” he clears his throat, and I already know a backward compliment is on its way, “you didn’t fuck up half as much as I thought you would.”
“Brilliant, thanks,” I roll my eyes. This time, I don’t linger long enough for the awkwardness to set in.
Twisting the handle, I push my door open and abruptly close and lock it behind me.
Maybe that’s not the ‘thank you’ Everest thought he might get for being a decent human being this evening, but he did thrust me into that position in the first place.
He is right though. I’m home now, and strangely thankful for the music that starts pounding through the walls. It’s familiar, if nothing else.
Leaning my forehead against the door, I finally come to terms with this evening. I used to adore these types of events, being in the spotlight, proud of the titles I earned, but I’m not the prized lacrosse captain anymore.
No one remembers the championship games which I brought us to victory.
The grants I secured by sweet talking the right people.
Now, I’m the freakshow. The gimmick. The woman on the verge of a breakdown, and the cameras couldn’t wait to capture it.
All because one man decided to take it from me, and I don’t mean the pretty boy whose jacket I’m drowning in.
Everest may have swooped in to steal my accomplishments, but Harrison abducted me.
Harrison broke me. Long after my so-called father was killed, Harrison kept me captive.
He used me as bait to draw out my sister.
He’s the monster I’m still hiding from, and now, he’s the only story the press wants to know.