8. Rose #2
She switched her phone to “Do Not Disturb,” checked her alarms and the level on her ringer, hoping to avoid giving herself a shock-induced heart attack when she got up in a few hours, and locked it, laying it beside her bed with her music playing. A smile lifted her lips as she relaxed.
Today 4:47 AM
DO NOT ANSWER
Saw that photo of you on Callaghan’s account, Angel. You better not be letting him touch you. You know how that ends.
For the tenth time in five minutes since she woke up, Rose flipped her phone over, then when it wasn’t far enough away, she tossed it across the bed and took a steadying breath.
Preston wasn’t supposed to be contacting her.
It was part of the protection order, and it appeared he was fine with her keeping her head down, but publicly having a life wasn’t okay.
She rubbed a hand over her face, trying to force her nausea down as she stretched across the bed to grab her phone and video-called her mom.
It took her three rings to pick up, and it felt like a lifetime.
“Hey, sweet girl!” Her mom’s makeup-free face popped onto the screen, sweaty from her run and with a sunny smile that brightened her amber eyes.
Then she seemed to catch Rose’s expression.
A glance at the bottom corner revealed she was paler than usual, and her gray-green skin was obvious, contrasting with her usual tan and freckles.
Her mom’s tone changed, her brows furrowing as she moved through the house. “What’s wrong? What’s that face for?”
She tried to breathe, to explain the text, that he’d contacted her even with the protective order in place. But terror had her vocal cords in a vise as her mom called for her dad. “Daniel! Something happened!”
It took less than ten seconds for her dad’s concerned face to show up on the screen, too. His thick, knitted brows were nearly identical to her mom’s as he leaned in, the edge of his cooking apron visible. “Hey, Beauty, it’s gonna be okay. Whatever it is, we can figure it out.”
That cracked her. The tears she’d kept at bay leaked down her cheeks soundlessly until she took a shaky breath and a high whine came out with it.
She grabbed her pillow and shoved her face into it hoping to muffle the sound in case Harper and Ainsley were awake.
She listened to her parents’ soft commentary, reminding her to breathe, encouraging her to tell them about what was upsetting her and trying to calm her down.
It was another ten minutes before she could get the words out about the text.
Both of their faces paled before anger overtook their expressions.
Her dad’s voice was alarmingly calm. “He’s not supposed to contact you.”
“I know.” Her shoulders slumped, and she wiped at the tears. “I’m more surprised it took this long.”
“We knew it was a possibility.” Her mom’s voice shook a bit, and her dad’s arm reached around to pull her to his side. “What did he say?”
Despite the message being seared into her memory, Rose retrieved it. “Saw that photo of you on Callaghan’s account, Angel. You better not be letting him touch you. You know how that ends.”
Silence and confused looks shot between her parents. Her mom asked what she knew was coming. “Who’s Callaghan, and what photo?”
“Kirin Callaghan. He’s the tight end for the Montgomery football team.” She rubbed a hand over her face. “He posted a photo of me on the university social site, SnapSocial.”
“They have those now? Why?” her dad asked, his brows lowering again. “What kind of photo?”
“Just me smiling.” She could feel the blush warming her cheeks as she tried to explain. “It’s related to a project.”
Her dad’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of project requires you to be posted on some guy’s account?”
“A project I agreed to and am taking part in willingly.” She said the words clearly and with enough eye contact in what she hoped was her parents’ direction to make her point clear.
A long sigh from her dad made her shoulders tense. “Rose—”
“He’s not like Preston, I promise,” she objected before he could say much more about it. Though that stab of fear hit quick enough to be lightning, the worry that her parents no longer trusted her judgment, the thundercloud of insecurity that followed, was her own concern.
Once upon a time, Preston was the same as Kirin, an unknown party with a good background and the world at his feet.
That was where their similarities ended, because it was behind closed doors that Preston became another man.
Not the public persona he’d perfected to hide the cruel comments and hair-trigger temper that came with more violence than she ever could have guessed.
Her parents had watched her like a hawk for months when she got back to Arizona.
With her mom acting as her personal bodyguard everywhere she went, holding her hand as she made her police report, holding a little tighter when they found out Preston was out on bail.
That was what pressed her to take out the restraining order, but the complete lack of repercussions for him that came in the month after forced her into the transfer portal.
She’d known his family had influence, but for nothing to touch him—that had been a weight on her shoulders since she left, not only because Preston was walking free, but because he was free to hurt someone else.
But the lightbulb moment the other day about him potentially moving on was an eye-opener.
And even if Preston continued to text her, she was sick of living with the fear.
He was the one in the wrong; he was the one breaking the law.
She hoped her parents would support her in trying to get out from under it.
They’d fought her hard on leaving the state for college again, wanting to shelter her and keep her close to home.
“He posted a photo of you and opened you up to Preston,” her dad argued. “You don’t think that was him flaunting you? How is that any different from—”
“He probably doesn’t know,” her mom interrupted, and her dad’s head whipped around.
“The Goodwins kept things quiet. I don’t know if they paid people off or what, but Preston is still playing.
He’s still in school. We don’t have a court date because they made the charges disappear too.
We already know that. Posting it was innocent.
Preston’s reaction isn’t this boy’s fault, just like it isn’t Rose’s.
She’s allowed to live her life. We need to trust her. ”
“I do trust her. I just want her to be safe,” he grumbled. His eyes shot from her mom to her on the screen, his face softening. “I have never doubted your judgment. You need to know that. We trust you, but we want to protect you.”
“Thank you,” Rose whispered, wiping at her eyes when a fresh set of relieved tears escaped. “I’m sorry—”
“I mean it. None of this is your fault. Do you hear me?” Her mom leaned a little closer into the camera, amber eyes full of fire.
“You have the right to post a photo online without harassment from your ex-boyfriend. The Goodwins may be one of the richest families in Michigan, but they do not own you. Preston does not own you. And he is the one violating the law by reaching out to you. We will talk to the lawyers, and they will get it handled.”
Rose sucked on her bottom lip, pressing her fingers to her lips to hide her smile as her mom mirrored her thoughts. It was almost as if she had been raised by this woman.
When her mom leaned back, her dad took her place with a raised brow. “You remember what they told you to do?”
“Keep all evidence for records in a safe space and saved in multiple places offline,” Rose repeated the words her dad’s former roommate, one of her Michigan lawyers, had drilled into her mind last winter while she laid in a hospital bed.
“Do you need me to—”
“No.” She cut her mom’s words off and grimaced when her mom’s eyes narrowed. “I’m good. It just freaked me out, and you told me to call immediately if anything happened.”
“You did well. Are you okay?”
“I’m good,” she said, and for once, it didn’t feel like she was faking it.
“If you’re sure,” her dad said, and when she nodded, he gave her one back. “Love you, Beauty. Gotta get breakfast done for the monsters!”
“Good luck,” she muttered, and he winked before disappearing.
Her mom moved to the living room, dropping into the corner chair based on the two walls behind her that were covered in photos of Rose and her sisters throughout the years. “Tell me about the boy.”