Chapter 20
twenty
Lan chuckles. The sound grates on my teeth like sand in my mouthguard.
“But you’re not into her…”
Fists up. Small jab at his jaw. He slips it. We circle each other, Jake tracking our every move.
“Shut up and fight,” I bite out. “Put that guard back in, or I’m taking out your pretty veneers. Again.” I give him a warning uppercut that grazes his chin.
“Yet you have her sleep next to you?”
I grit down harder on the plastic. “In a dog bed,” I murmur. Or…it started that way.
He pauses long enough for the grin to spread. “And bring her to lunch to sit on your lap every day.”
My side punch catches his ribs. He laughs through the blow, dancing away.
Lan turns to Jake. “Best part? Mr. I Don’t Get Attached won’t let that compact seductress near the usual girls. Nah. Those, he keeps on leashes. Her? She gets the throne in the princess suite.”
That one lands deeper than his last hook. My fist answers for me, cracking across his jaw. He staggers, spits blood, still smiling like he’s pulling my stitches apart.
Gasping between laughs, he shoves his glove at me to ward me off and says, “And—and—he hasn’t touched anyone else since she showed up.”
With a sneer, I spit out my guard. “When you’ve got a personal sex puppet, you don’t need to run a circus.”
The girls I use are bandages. Ashlyn’s my suppurating wound. Others let me disappear. She forces me to exist.
He shrugs, mouth curling. “Couldn’t tell you, bro. Keep lying to yourself, though.”
Jake cuts in. “We done?”
“Yeah.” I strip off my gloves and toss them across the mat. “Don’t know why we’re still friends.”
Lan punches my shoulder lightly, then gathers me under his broad arm. I hate that he’s so much taller than me. Not many people are. His lips smack loudly against my cheek. “Because I’m the only one who can tell you the truth and take your hits, bitch.”
My hands weasel out enough to shove him away from me as Tade enters with his athletic bag slung over one shoulder. His eyebrows raise. “Ready?”
“Give me two minutes.”
An ice-cold shower scrapes the heated rage from my skin. I toss on some sweatpants and a hoodie, then grab my bag and accompany my real friend to the natatorium.
The air shifts from chalk dust to sharp chlorine, and my muscles tingle, aching for a stretch in the warm waters. Tade’s a good guy and lets me in the building when I want to burn out the rest of any lingering agony left in my soul for the day.
And I have a lot to deal with, considering tonight is the Wednesday pre-Thanksgiving bar event with Theta…and lots of sorority sisters. Including Hailey Twinston.
Ashlyn’s at her Omega charity event this afternoon, but she’s supposed to show up at Westmore bar.
And when she does, despite what Lan said, I plan to make her kneel at my side while toying with her all night.
Probably make out with Elowyn and Blaire in the booth while my pet has to watch.
And Hailey, too. Gods, maybe it will throw her off me.
Lights are dimmed in the arena. Filters hum under the balloon-white ceiling. First dive off the block, and the world disappears. Air is all I need to think about. I hold it as long as I can, then break the surface, pulling in only what I need to push forward again.
My shoulders roll through each stroke until I’m cutting down the lane like nothing outside the water exists. But when I flip and push off the wall, I’m not in the natatorium anymore.
I’m back at Crest.
The lake that summer was black as oil, glassy under a sky too dark to be trusted. She stood at the dock’s edge, shifting under the weight of the welt marks striping her back. Thirteen, trying to look like they didn’t hurt.
I pointed to the smooth surface like it were a patch of meadow. “Trust me. Cold water numbs it.”
Her eyes narrowed, full of suspicion. “Or it’ll make me drown.”
I dove in before she could argue. The shock of the midnight temperature stole my breath. When I resurfaced, tossing my wet locks out of my eyes, I beckoned her with a hand. “Then I’ll save you, baby girl.”
She lingered, bare toes curled over the cedar planks, lip caught between her teeth like she couldn’t decide if I was worth the trouble. Then she stepped off, straight into the deep, and I had her by the waist before she could flail.
We splashed, wrestled, her laughter snapping against the stillness like it didn’t belong there. Moonlight caught in her lashes, freckles bright with every flush of blood under her skin.
When we finally slowed, quiet enough to be sure no counselor was near, we bobbed there, grinning like we’d gotten away with something. Her escape. Our secret.
I knew I’d want more of it. More of her.
Her lips trembled from the cold—or maybe the same thrill sparking in my chest. I brushed wet hair off her forehead and smirked. “You’ve never kissed anyone.”
Defiance flared in her eyes. “Yeah, I have.”
I swam closer, crowding her space until her back hit the dock’s submerged ladder. “No, you haven’t, baby.”
Her chin tilted up. “Have too.”
I hooked a hand behind her neck and collapsed my lips over hers. Not soft. Not the way a first kiss is supposed to be.
Cold water. Hot breath. Her mouth froze against mine for a second, then pressed back—uncertain, but there. We figured it out together, even managed some tongue. Not that I knew more than she did, but I wouldn’t tell her.
When I pulled away, her eyes were wide.
“Told you,” I said.
She splashed me in the face. “You’re an asshole.”
“Yeah.” I grinned. “And now you’ve kissed the Asshole-In-Charge. How lucky are you that I was your first?”
I break the surface now—years later—and the water in my lungs feels just as sharp. Chlorine burns my nose, but that’s not what’s making my chest ache.
It’s Ashlyn.
The way she looked at me like I’d stolen something and given it back in the same breath. The way she let me.
I roll onto my back, staring at the curved ceiling of the natatorium, every stroke cutting through the water slower and slower. Landon’s words gnaw at me like teeth in my ribs. Princess treatment. Hasn’t fucked anyone else. Like he’s already figured out the one thing I can’t admit.
I want her. Always have.
And I can’t have her—not the way I want. Owned. Completely mine. Under my control. No one else’s hands. No one else’s eyes.
Not without dismantling everything I’ve built. It would be admitting that what she did to me didn’t matter. That I don’t matter.
She can’t even ask for forgiveness. An apology wouldn’t change a thing anyway. What she did cut me deeper than she even realizes. Worse—she wears those scars on my heart like trophies.
The thought curdles into something heavier, a black weight pressing down on me as I haul myself out of the pool. Water sheets off my body in rivulets, pattering against tile like a countdown. My hands ache to hold something fragile and break it.
I can’t have her freely, and I can’t forgive her yet.
I can’t survive without her.
So I’ll cage her and make her life a living hell.
By tonight, Ashlyn will be right where I can reach her—kneeling at my side in that bar. Watching while I wrap my fingers around other women’s throats. Smiling at them like she’s not in the room.
I’ll pretend she’s nothing.
If I can’t have her, I’ll make sure she knows she’ll never have me.
My phone rings unexpectedly, and it’s my sister. Sighing with frustration, I pick up while walking toward her sorority.
“Calling to disappoint me more, Olivia?”
“We tried to end him, Aiden. Someone figured out our plan.” She’s quiet for a moment, then says, “We’ll try again.”
My heart sinks. The president’s still alive. Our plans didn’t work. I hadn’t fully expected them to, but I’ve still got my angle to destroy Dean Twinston working in the background…
“Don’t fucking say anything in detail, O.” I glance behind my back, every shadow suddenly too close, but the walkway is empty.
“I’m not stupid,” she snaps.
I know she’s not. But she’s not me. Or Dad…
“Do you need help? I’m almost to Omega House,” I ask, turning the corner behind the library, reaching Sorority Row.
“Actually, I wanted to ask you if you have Ashlyn Donovan’s number. She hasn’t been answering the one I have and—”
At the mention of Ashlyn, my heart races. “Why would I have her number?”
Voice flat and annoyed, my older sister sighs. I can hear her eyes roll through the phone. “I was at our party on Hallow’s Eve, Aiden. And I know you.”
“Why do you need it?” I shift my gaze from side to side, but I’m alone. Ashlyn hasn’t been answering calls because she’s been with me…
“Because I think she could help us.”
I swallow, my brow furrowing as I let the silence pull at her until she fills it. And I find out her next plan.
“So she’d be away for one night?” I ask.
“Yep. That’s it. That’s all I need,” she says.
“You have her right number. Maybe talk to her in person instead.” I still feign nonchalance.
She takes a breath and pauses. “Are you okay?”
Instead of the usual pat answer, assuring everyone I am, I say, “Just get the job done and I will be.”
“I love you, Aiden. I do.”
“Love you, too, O. But listen to me. If you need anything? You call. I don’t want my sister in danger.”
“Oh, sweet baby brother. I am the danger now.” She laughs like I haven’t heard since we were kids, but my chest aches with worry for her anyway.
Under the judgmental instructions of Dean Twinston, I collect Hailey from the front of Omega House at nine. She throws the door open like she’s announcing a coronation—“My man is here!”—and my gaze rakes the foyer for gold hair and a sharper tongue.
But no hellkitten.
The letdown hits harder than I’ll ever admit.
Hailey bounces on her toes, sliding her hand into my offered arm.
“Ready?” I ask, steering her toward Westmore Bar.
“Yes! I’m so excited. I don’t think I’ve ever been to a Westmore Theta pre-Thanksgiving night bash before.” She bats her lashes like the words might stick to me. “I heard you guys get rowdy.”
“Yeah.”