The person filming the video didn’t come any closer until after I made my escape. They didn’t follow me. Instead, they went to Brody and tried to open the car door but couldn’t. I was glad I’d locked it. I could hear them laughing as they filmed him through the window.
“Rapist.” It was a male voice. “Dude, I would not want to be you.” And then the video stopped.
I glanced at the bottom of the screen. The video already had fifteen thousand hits. I felt sick...
“Isn’t that amazing?” Zoe asked. “Did you see how she kicked him? I want to be able to do that.”
I almost offered to teach her, but then remembered it wasn’t in my best interest to admit that I could do that kind of stuff. “Yeah, me too.” I stared at my latte, my mouth very dry. “How did you find the video?”
“Oh, Anna sent it to me. Her mother saw it on Channel 7’s website.”
I was definitely going to puke. I took a sip of my drink instead. Probably not a bright idea; coffee was horrible when it came back up. “Why would Channel 7 care about some hazing?”
“Hazing?” She looked at me like I was a little slow. “Hadley, Brody’s father is a corporate lawyer. This is a big deal around town. Why aren’t you more excited? Somebody is targeting the guys who hurt Magda. I would’ve thought you’d be into all of this.”
I wanted to confess to her right then and there, tell her my little secret. I didn’t. I couldn’t. It wasn’t just about protecting myself, it was about protecting her. If she knew what I’d done, she’d get in trouble if she didn’t tell.
Part of me wondered why she didn’t ask me about it. If this situation was reversed, I’d wonder if Zoe had decided to avenge her best friend. Surely it was only a matter of time before the police showed up on my doorstep.
I needed to cover my ass.
“I’m not sure how I feel about it,” I told her. “None of this is going to bring Magda back, is it?” The words felt heavy on my tongue, the reality of them settling hard on my shoulders. What was I doing? “Outing” Jason and Brody made me feel better at the time, and I did feel like I was getting a little bit of payback for Magda. That I was providing consequences for what those assholes had done. But in reality, it was too little, too late, and I might end up in a lot of trouble if I got caught.
The craziest part was that I knew I wasn’t going to stop. As frightened as I was of getting caught, I was still going to go through with it, even though it wouldn’t bring back my friend. I still had to get Adam and Drew. I couldn’t get caught before that.
Zoe looked at me sympathetically. “No, it won’t. I’m sorry. I...I didn’t mean...”
“I know what you meant.” I said it with a bit of a smile so she wouldn’t think I was upset with her. “And yeah, it does feel good to know that someone is at least trying to make them pay.”
“Do you think Detective Davies would teach us how to do that kick?”
I laughed. “Maybe.” Hopefully she wouldn’t ask me to demonstrate it.
“I just think it’s cool that it’s a girl. Or a woman, whatever. I’d be so afraid to do what she’s doing. What if Jason had woken up? What if Brody hadn’t been drunk? They could’ve hurt her.”
I tilted my head. “I don’t know. She looks like she can take care of herself.”
My new friend took a drink from the tall paper cup in front of her. “She’s smart to wear a mask. I wonder if we know her?” Her eyes got wide again.
I almost choked on a mouthful of latte. What would I say if I really had no idea who was behind that pink mask? “It’s not that big a town. We could know her, I guess. I wonder if she goes to the dojo? She’s obviously got martial arts training.”
“Maybe it’s Detective Davies.”
I laughed. “I doubt that.”
“Why? She’s about the right height and build, and it has to piss her off that she arrested those guys and then they got off because Brody’s dad got them a shark of a lawyer.”
“Don’t remind me. That asshole tore my, Gabriel’s and Magda’s reputations apart.” He’d made Gabe sound like an overly protective brother, prejudiced against a boy Magda liked. He’d made me out to be jealous, and just drunk enough that I didn’t know what I saw. And Magda...he’d made her sound like a sad little girl trying to get a boy’s attention and then crying wolf when it didn’t work out the way she wanted. The charges were thrown out because of him. For a moment, I entertained adding him to my list, but even I wasn’t that reckless.
How could he sleep after saying those things about her?
“You must miss her.”
I nodded, my throat suddenly tight. “I do.” I hoped she’d take a hint and not say anything else about it.
“So,” she began with a sly smile, leaning over the table on her forearms. “Who was that hottie you talked to last night?”
My cheeks warmed. I hoped I wasn’t blushing too hard. “That was Gabriel. He’s Magda’s brother. I’ve known him since I was five.”
Zoe grinned. “Yeah? How long have you been in love with him?”
My jaw dropped. How had she figured that out? “I’m not.”
She laughed at me. “You tell yourself that, but I know you’re lying. I could tell from the way you looked at him that you were more than just friends.”
“We are just friends.” I wanted to believe there was more between us, but I was his little sister’s best friend, and he hung out with beautiful girls his own age. Why would he want me? Forget that he’d flirted with me. Maybe he thought I was cute. Maybe he wanted me, but that didn’t mean he had feelings for me. As awesome as he was, he was still just a guy.
The smile drained from Zoe’s face as she stared at me. “Wait, you don’t think he likes you?”
“Not in the way you mean, no.”
She shook her head. “You may be smart when it comes to books, but you’re incredibly dense when it comes to guys.”
“I know. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have let Magda go off with Drew.”
“That’s not on you. And it’s not on her, either. You know who’s to blame for what happened to her. Don’t use guilt to deflect the subject. If you can’t tell that that guy likes you, then you’re just plain clueless.”
I shrugged. “I guess I am.”
She rolled her eyes at me but didn’t push the topic.
A few minutes later we took what was left of our coffees and went to the mall. Zoe had her mother’s credit card and proceeded to do some damage with it. I picked up a couple of black shirts, some extra leggings and a pair of jeans from the sale racks.
Every store we went to Zoe had to try on a ton of stuff. She made me come into the dressing room with her, so I could give my opinion on every outfit. She took selfies of herself in front of the mirror wearing different combinations and posted them to her social media sites.
“Why do you do that when you don’t even buy half the clothes?” I asked her.
She smiled. “Sometimes a girl just needs to be told by people she hardly knows that she looks fabulous.”
I couldn’t argue with that logic.
It was almost 6:00 p.m. by the time she dropped me off. I took my bags up to my room and was hanging stuff in my closet when someone knocked on my bedroom door.
“Come in,” I said, assuming it was Mom.
The door opened and then closed again. I stepped out of the closet when the silence dragged on. It wasn’t Mom. It was Gabriel. He did not look happy.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. I was suddenly very aware of what a mess my room was, and also of the fact that he was the only boy to ever step foot in it.
He walked toward me in a way that reminded me of a cat stalking a bird. I wanted to back away, but that little part of me that refused to be intimidated wouldn’t take a step.
“Was it yo
u?” he asked, his voice very, very low.
“Me, what?” I wasn’t that stupid. I knew exactly what he was asking. He’d seen the video.
Apparently, he knew I wasn’t that stupid, either. “You know what I’m talking about. Did you go after Brody Henry last night?”
I looked him right in the eye. “No.” Lying to him felt so wrong.
He came closer. “Really? Because the girl in that video looked a lot like you.”
This time I did step backward, but not because he scared me. “The girl in that video was dressed in black and wearing a mask. She could be anybody.”
He tilted his head, dark hair falling over his shoulder. “Anybody with a pink ski mask, a wicked roundhouse and legs I’d know anywhere? You were dressed in black last night, and you’ve got a bruise right where she got hit.”
I shrugged. “Coincidence.”
Gabriel moved fast, closing the distance between us. I stepped back, but there was nowhere to go. I was pinned between him and the wall—his forearm braced above my head, his other hand between my waist and arm. There was barely enough room to breathe between us. I could feel how warm he was through my clothes. His entire body was taut, like a snake about to strike.
“I don’t think it’s a coincidence that you have a bruise, and a pink ski mask, and that the guys being targeted are the same bastards that hurt my sister.”
I tried to meet his gaze, but I could only hold it for a second. His eyes were black, glittering like stones. “I don’t care what it is, and neither should you. Just be happy someone’s finally doing something about it.”
His chest touched mine. “I would be happy if I wasn’t terrified someone was going to hurt you.”
“No one’s going to hurt me.” I lifted my chin, and this time I had no trouble making eye contact. “I can take care of myself.”
His eyes seemed fathomless as they stared down at me. “I know you can. You could take any of those guys. But what if they attack you together? You can’t take all four of them.”
His words brought back memories—terrible ones—of listening to Magda tell me every detail of what she could remember them doing to her. They’d drugged her, so she didn’t remember much. I was glad she didn’t remember the whole thing, because what she did remember was sickening. Gabe and I had held each other’s hands while we listened to her story.
“Don’t worry about me,” I told him. “I’ll be okay.” Even if the four of them did the same thing to me, I would be okay. I wouldn’t let them get away with it. If the law let them off, I wouldn’t kill myself.
I’d get my own justice.
The hand he braced between my waist and arm moved to my hip. My heart jumped. He lowered his head so that it touched mine. “I’d kill anyone who hurt you.”
My mouth was dry, and my heart was pounding. His hand on my hip burned through my clothes. He smelled like cinnamon, and being this close to him made me a little dizzy. It made me brave.
I looked up at him. “The only person who has the power to hurt me is you,” I whispered. And then, before I could think, or before I could stop myself, I came up on my toes and kissed him.
He tasted like cinnamon too—and sugar.
Gabe froze, and for a second—a terrifying second—I thought he was going to push me away. But then he pushed his body against mine, pressing me between him and the wall. He kissed me hard. I opened my mouth at the touch of his tongue, my heart pounding so hard I was sure he could feel it.
I couldn’t think. My head swam. Every inch of me tingled with electricity. He felt so good against me that I wanted to push him onto my bed and rip off his clothes. I didn’t even care if we made it to the bed. I’d made out with other guys, but not like this. No one had ever made me feel like this.
Suddenly, I was lifted off the floor as Gabe swept me up into his arms like something out of a movie. He carried me to the bed and set me on it. I reached for him, pulling him down on top of me, wrapping him up in my arms and legs. I was overwhelmed by a feeling of intense urgency that pushed all common sense, all thought of anything but him from my mind.
We found a rhythm, every inch of us pressed together from lip to hip. My heart felt like it might burst straight out of my chest as I clung to him. Every second made that feeling of urgent desperation stronger. And stronger.
And stronger.
Oh. My. God.
Gabriel went still. He lifted himself up on his hands, breaking the kiss. I shivered as the parts of me that had been pressed against him cooled.
His hair hung around his face, and from my perspective his eyes were completely black, bright and intense. He was as breathless as I was.
“Tell me it was you,” he said, voice hoarse and low.
I stared at him. Really? How could he ask me that now?
“No.” I couldn’t tell him the truth. He’d try to stop me, or worse he’d want to help. I couldn’t put him in danger. I would never forgive myself if something happened to him.
I saw the disappointment in his eyes. He knew I was lying. He knew everything. When he pulled back, I let him go. I sat up as he stood. He walked to the door, then stopped and looked at me over his shoulder.
“I’m your friend, Had. I want to be more than just a friend. I think you want that too, but it’s not going to happen if you can’t trust me. Lie to yourself if you have to, but don’t lie to me.” He walked out, the door clicking shut behind him.
I sat there on the bed, trembling inside. I couldn’t even begin to understand how I felt. There was only one thing I knew for sure—I had just hurt the one person who mattered most to me.
And I didn’t know if he would ever forgive me for it.
CHAPTER 11
They had a brief story about me on the news Monday night. I wouldn’t have seen it if my mother hadn’t been watching.
“Police report that there have been attacks on two local teenage boys. The boys were marked and photos of them uploaded to their own social media accounts. While police cannot give the names of the victims, sources say the boys are connected, and that both were involved in the investigation of an alleged sexual assault earlier this year.”
“Alleged?” I echoed. “They did it.”
My mother gave me a pained look. “You don’t know that, Hadley.”
I was still wounded from Gabe walking out on me yesterday, so my temper jacked up surprisingly fast. I pulled out my phone, accessed the gallery and showed her the photo I tried to never look at, but kept as a reminder of what they’d done. It was a photo of Magda and the bastards who raped her. Jason was the one running the camera while Adam had my friend draped over the footboard of the bed. He was behind her. Drew was in front of her, his fists in her hair. Both of them were violating her while Brody waited his turn, making lewd faces at the camera.
“Does that look consensual to you?” I demanded, shoving my phone in Mom’s face.
She winced and turned her head. “That’s terrible.”
“You’re right it is,” I ground out.
“She shouldn’t have gone off with them. That poor girl.”
I remembered the look on Magda’s face when I told her she’d made a stupid mistake going off with Drew. It shamed me.
“They shouldn’t have raped her,” I corrected. “It wasn’t her fault. It was theirs.”
She gave me a pitying look. I’d never wanted to punch my mother in the face until that very moment. “Every girl knows the risk. Magda must have known what they wanted from her. Look how short her skirt was. If she went with him, of course he’d think she wanted sex.”
“So what if she did?” I challenged. “It doesn’t mean she wanted to have sex with all of them, Mom, Jesus.”
Her lips thinned. “There are consequences, Hadley. There are always consequences for everything we do. I’m not sa
ying that Magda deserved what happened, but some of the responsibility of it falls on her shoulders.”
I stared at her. Was she really that stupid? My God, she was only in her thirties. She had to have more sense than that. I used to think her being so young—eighteen when she had me—meant she was more progressive in her thinking, but it only seemed to make her more messed up.
Eighteen. Who the hell wanted to have a baby at eighteen? She told me once she hadn’t known Dad for long when they got married. She made it sound romantic. Now, I did some math. She had to have been already pregnant with me when she got married. I thought it had happened on their honeymoon.
“Was I a consequence?” I asked her with a sneer. “A ‘responsibility’ you and Dad had to own?”
Mom flushed. “We met at a party. I’d had too much to drink. I flirted with him. We ended up in his car. When I told him I was pregnant, he asked me to marry him. He could have abandoned me. Most boys wouldn’t have stepped up like that.”
That wasn’t the whole truth, I could tell. “My God. I’m here because you got drunk and the guy who took advantage of you couldn’t be bothered to use a condom. That’s just awesome.” No wonder he was always gone. We were the family he got stuck with.
“I do not regret having you,” she insisted, looking me dead in the eye. “You may not have been planned, but you were not a mistake, and you never will be.”
“You say that to me now, but every time you say Magda should have known better, what you’re telling me is that I was a mistake, Mom. A big one. I’m going out.” She didn’t try to stop me.
I went to Starbucks. On my way there, I studied almost every woman I saw. How many of them had been told whatever happened to her was her fault, or she’d been asking for it? Had the woman walking toward me been assaulted at a bar? Maybe the next one had been harassed at her work. Or another might have been told she could pay a debt with sex. How many women did I see every day who had been assaulted in some way—used as objects—and been made to feel like somehow they were to blame for it?