“Open and we’ll talk about it. We’ll come to some agreement, okay?” he says. “Don’t make this situation any worse than it is.”
I know I shouldn’t do it. I know it could be yet another stupid mistake.
But what if we can figure out a solution? What if I can get whatever info he’s keeping from me so I finally know what’s going on at school?
My hand moves to the deadbolt. I crack the door open only an inch, the chain still on.
“Lana, let me in,” he sighs. “It’s just me, alright? Let’s get this over with and talk it out like adults.”
I draw a weak breath, then slide the chain off to let him in. He quickly strides inside, brushing past me.
“Spencer told me what happened in the alley. Some psycho threatened to cut off his fingers,” he starts, cutting me a sidelong glance. “You’re saying you didn’t know?”
My brows knit. “Kel, I’ve already told you I didn’t send anyone. I don’t even know what you’re talking about. What about the stares I’ve been getting? What’s going on?”
“You say you don’t know,” he says cryptically. His gaze has traveled from me to the rest of the living room, roving over small details like the old box TV and the photos hanging on the wall. “But you never mentioned you were related to bikers.”
“I don’t know what you’re?—”
“Yousentthem after me,” he says. “You were gonna have them handle me? Ran into Shay this afternoon. She told me your uncle is a Steel King. That true? Seems like it judging by these pictures.”
He gestures to one across from him on the wall of Uncle Eddie and his Harley.
My stomach twists into knots. “Kel, I didn’t tell anybody to come for you. Why would I do that? I can’t even remember what?—”
“Don’t lie to me!” he yells suddenly. “You think you can sic your bikers on me? Think you can threaten me?”
“I didn’t do anything! I don’t even know what you’re talking about!”
He laughs, shaking his head. “You want to play stupid when I came here to make a truce? Fine.”
“How can we make a truce when I still don’t know everything that happened that night!?”
“Then let me refresh your memory about it.” He pulls out his phone, the screen bright in the dim room. “Yeah, I slipped something in your drink. Just a little Special K to loosen you up. Everyone knows you’re a fucking boring prude. You thought we were hanging out with you because of your sparkling personality?”
“So… you drugged me,” I whisper.
“I made you fun,” he corrects. “You should’ve seen yourself after it kicked in. Offered to suck my dick right there in the car, in front of SpencerandDiego. Pulled your top down and flashed us. You were finally interesting for once in your life, Lana.”
“You’re lying.”
…but even as I say it, fragments flash through my mind—hands on me, loud crass laughter, the world spinning as I struggled to keep up.
“Am I?” He turns his phone toward me. The screen shows a video thumbnail of me, clearly out of it, dress pulled down. “Got plenty more where that came from. Pics and videos of you doing all sorts of shit. Your face is real clear in all of them.”
Tears fill my eyes as cold, icy horror rushes me and leaves me sick to my stomach.
“No,” I croak, then I shake my head. “Kel… no. I was drugged in those. That’s evidence of?—”
“Evidence?” he repeats, barking out a laugh. “Who’s gonna care about consent when they see these? When I send them to every student at school? You think it’s bad now? Just wait ’til we make the albums public. Post them online with your name tagged. Hell, maybe I’ll send them to your uncle’s biker friends. Let them see what a thot his niece really is.”
“Why are you doing this to me?! What did I do to have you hurt me like this?”
“Nothing,” he answers simply. “I told you. We were just trying to make you more fun. I tried to be cool with you after. I took you out, didn’t I? I figured a prude like you—dating you for a while would make it better. But you just couldn’t get with the fucking program, Lana. You had to involve the bikers.”
I’m so sick, so disturbed, I can’t even speak anymore. I shake my head, slow tears rolling down my cheeks.
“Hey! Did you hear me?” he growls impatiently. His hand shoots out and he grabs me by the throat, dragging me toward him. “Call off your uncle’s fucking dogs. Tell them to back off or I release everything. Every photo. Every video. Every humiliating second of you acting like the whore you’ve always pretended you weren’t.”
