Grumbling, I collapse on the couch while he stands above me, glowering. “I want the entire story, now,” he snaps at me.
Sighing, I glance at Ashton, hoping that maybe he’ll protect me from having to answer.
“If you plan on being a witness, you might as well get used to giving your side,” Ashton says, and folds his arms across his chest.
He’s not helping matters.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and hang my head for a second, gathering my thoughts. “The teaching assistant asked me out to lunch after returning my pop quiz, which I failed.”
“You failed an exam?” Dad doesn’t look pleased and seems to be hung up on the last part, not the first.
I hold up a hand. “Are you going to interrupt me, or can I finish?”
He nods for me to go on.
“It turns out my answers were all accurate. Ashton and I compared our quizzes later that afternoon.”
“I’m not seeing how Ashton is the one to blame yet.” Dad glares at me and then at Ashton, his jaw tight.
Dante watches from the hallway, listening in, growing interested in our little story time.
“I ran into Henry on my way to class.” Ashton purses his lips and then takes a seat next to me on the sofa. He rests a hand on my thigh, and I capture his hand, intertwining our fingers together. “He said a few colorful things that I didn’t like.”
“So, you assaulted him,” Dante quips. There’s no disgust or disappointment in his tone. It’s just a matter of fact.
“Well, yes, but only after he made it clear that he wouldn’t leave Nova alone, that girls liked playing hard to get and telling him no, and that he would have sex with whomever he wanted, including Nova. Because to him, ‘no’ didn’t mean ‘no’ at all.”
Dad’s face reddens, and his hands are clenched at his sides. “What’s Henry’s last name?” he grits between clenched teeth.
I glance nervously at Ashton, feeling the tension crackle in the air. Ashton hesitates, eyes darting to me and then back to Dad.
Shaking my head no, I implore him not to tell Dad, but he snatches the letter from the table where Ashton deposited it and glances it over.
“Henry Bennett,” Dad grumbles, displeased that Ashton or I didn’t give the information up willingly as he’d have liked.
The name hangs between us, heavy and threatening.
What does he plan on doing to Henry?
There’s a charged silence before Dante finally steps forward from the hallway, his presence somehow both reassuring and intimidating. “Henry will no longer be an issue.”
Oh, shit.
“Dad, please don’t make this worse for Ashton.”
Four
Liam
Bristol tries to video call me, but I can’t take it. Not while the house is filled with chaos. After the body is shoved into an oversized suitcase and Dante and his colleague head out, I finally have a few minutes of solitude.
There’s a blanket covering the blood in the hallway.
Dante offered for all of us to stay at their home until our place gets cleaned up, but I’ve got school tomorrow. We all do, and a hockey game in the evening. At least it’s a home game, but I need my sleep, and driving an extra hour doesn’t sound worth it.
The blanket hides the crimson on the carpet, but there’s still a splatter of blood on the walls. Dante told us not to bother cleaning it up tonight. His men would come tomorrow while we’re in class and make the necessary repairs.
Fine with me.
