He didn’t raise his voice. That made her flinch even more. She grabbed his arm, frantic.
“Jasper, please, just listen to me—”
“Don’t.” He stepped out of her reach.“Don’t touch me.”
Her boyfriend straightened, but Jasper barely spared him a glance. Putting his fist through the guy’s skull would’ve been easy. Too easy. But he refused to give either of them the satisfaction of seeing how deeply they’d managed to cut him.
Mary’s eyes filled with tears instantly—fast, theatrical.
“I didn’t mean—”
“Shut up.”
Jasper just turned around and walked away.
And then he started falling. A long, drawn-out collapse. Fights, alcohol, women who came to him on their own, never asking for love or loyalty. No more“sweet freshmen,” no more“I’ll wait as long as you need.” He didn’t wait anymore. He took.
The Jasper who’d believed in love died that day at the damn dorm door. Something inside him snapped clean.
The hatred never left. And then he saw Nina.
It had been about a week since he’d learned the truth aboutMary, when he showed up at that party. The moment he got out of the car, he slammed his fist into the face of the first bastard who dared look at him.
Then he got drunk out of his mind. Every new glass of whiskey ground down what little control he had left. Mary’s voice still echoed in his skull:
“I don’t even let him touch me. He still thinks he’ll be my first.”
And then he saw a shy girl. She kept sneaking embarrassed glances his way all evening. Didn’t talk to anyone. Stood in a corner, her whole posture saying she didn’t belong in that crowd.
And the first thought that punched him in the head—she looked like Mary.
The same pure eyes. The same naive gaze. The same“innocence” that turned out to be a filthy lie.
She felt like Mary’s copy, which meant she was just as fake. He didn’t see differences. Didn’t see reality. Only the betrayal gnawing at his chest. He poured all his disappointment and rage onto her.
That night, Jasper wasn’t himself. He didn’t remember clearly, but he was pretty sure he and the guys had taken something before they arrived. He did whatever he could to numb the pain—and paid for it.
He grabbed her roughly, dragged her into a room, slammed the door shut. Wanted to prove to himself she wasn’t as pure as she looked. That she was just likeher—the girl he’d destroyed himself over.
That they were all the same.
He didn’t hear her words. Didn’t feel her resisting. He heard only his own madness. His thoughts melted into a single chaotic rush.
He didn’t remember leaving the room. Or getting home. Then morning came, and he felt a sharp jolt.
He crashed off the bed with a loud thud, barely catching himself with his hands. His head throbbed, his body felt hollow, still under whatever he’d taken the night before.
“Get up,” his father growled, towering over him.
Jasper blinked several times, struggling to understand what was happening. Every sound felt like it could split his skull.
“What the hell…?” he rasped.
“Get up, Jasper!” His father was practically boiling.“Do you even realize what you’ve done?! If I lose my position because of you, I’ll send you to a construction site to haul stone. You’ll live in a trailer and piss in an outdoor toilet.”
Jasper narrowed his eyes irritably.
“What are you even talking about?”
