Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Alpha Males (20 page)

So she was definitely having a ball as
Caelyn ran around the supermarket trying to find what was on the list that
their mother had sent with them.

But the entire time, all Caelyn was doing
was waiting for the right moment.
 
She knew it would come at some point, if she was patient.
 
She didn’t want to force it—just
let it come naturally, when her sister was at her most triumphant and not
paying attention.

Finally, they’d gotten the cart stocked
up with everything they needed, and went to the checkout.
 

Deena looked at Caelyn was the girl began
ringing up their items.

“When this is done, I’ll bring the car
around and you wait out front with the cart.”

“Okay.”
 
Caelyn smiled, but it was forced.

“What’s wrong with you?
 
Why are you being so weird?”

“I thought you wanted me to help.
 
So I’m helping.”

Deena glared at her, as if sensing
something was amiss.
 
“Something is
definitely wrong with you, Caelyn.”

“I guess I can’t win,” Caelyn said,
shrugging.
 
“I’m trying to do what
you and Mom want, and you’re still aggravated.
 
It’s not my fault.”

“Nothing ever is,” Deena said, rolling
her eyes.

After Deena paid, the two of them walked
outside, and Deena told her to wait as she went to bring the car around.

Caelyn swore under her breath.
 
She should have asked to bring the car
around instead, but she hadn’t wanted to tip Deena off.
 
Besides, Deena would have said no just to
say no.
 
The girl was a monster.

A minute later, Deena pulled up alongside
the cart and parked.
 
Then she
rolled down her window.
 
“Could you
put the bags in?”

“Aren’t you going to get out and help?”
Caelyn asked.

“I can’t—I’ve got to make a phone
call.”
 
She started dialing.

“I’m not loading these all by myself,
Deena.”

“Don’t give me an attitude.
 
If you load them and keep your mouth
shut, I’ll tell Mom how helpful and normal you acted and maybe they won’t send
you away.”

“Send me away?”

Deena spoke into the phone.
 
“Ashley, hold on a minute, someone is
being rude and interrupting me.”
 
Then she put the phone against her hand and looked straight into
Caelyn’s eyes.
 
“Yeah, Mom and Dad
have mentioned the possibility.
 
I’m
trying to protect you—don’t you get it?
 
If you keep acting crazy, they’re going
to ship you off to some mental hospital so they can drug you up and keep you
calm.”

Caelyn wanted to laugh, but she was
afraid maybe her sister wasn’t just being a bitch.
 
Maybe her parents were that worried, and
she couldn’t completely blame them either.

She started loading the grocery bags into
the car.
 
Her sister was babbling
mindlessly into the phone about some kind of dance that was coming up, and what
boys wanted to ask her and who she was hoping would ask her and who Deena would
settle for if the ones she wanted to, didn’t.

Caelyn needed to get her sister out of
the car.
 
So she purposefully
dropped one of the bags and spilled a bunch of stuff out onto the
concrete.
 
“Crap,” she said.

Deena looked back at her.
 
“What did you do now?”

“I need help picking this stuff up.
 
Will you come help me?”

“No.
 
You messed it up, you fix it.”
 
And then Deena went back to talking.

Nothing had worked.
 
Caelyn put the rest of the bags in the
car and then they drove home.
 
She
was fuming at her sister, who was being more and more awful as the day wore on.

When they got home, Deena went inside
without even carrying a single bag, expecting Caelyn to bring the groceries
inside and unpack them.
 

Caelyn brought everything inside on her
own, privately seething with rage at her bratty sister, but knowing she
couldn’t afford to start a fight.

Maybe her obedience had given Deena the
confidence to let her guard down.
 
Either way, when Caelyn was done putting the groceries away, she noticed
her younger sister’s purse sitting unattended on the counter top.

Deena was in the bathroom.

Caelyn smiled to herself, remembering
that good things came to those who waited, and then she quickly plucked the car
keys from the purse and walked out the front door.

A moment later, she was in her sister’s
car and headed for Boston to confront the man who had raped her.

***

It wasn’t long before Caelyn’s cell phone
rang, as she drove towards the highway.
 
She answered it, knowing who it was without even looking.

“Stop screaming, you’re going to blow my
eardrums out,” Caelyn told her sister, who was screeching so loudly that her
words were actually unintelligible.

Eventually Deena calmed down enough to
make an audible threat.
 
“If you
don’t come home right now, I’m going to call the police and tell them you stole
my car.”

“First of all, Mom and Dad own that car,”
she said.
 
“You can’t even report it
stolen, they have to.”
  

“I don’t care.
 
I’ll tell Mom then, and she’ll call the
police.”

“No she won’t, because she wouldn’t want
her daughter arrested.
 
I’m bringing
your precious car back in a couple of hours, so just chill.”

“I won’t chill, you bitch.
 
That’s my car!
 
Bring it back now!”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Fine, you can explain this newest crazy
stunt to Mom.”
 

And then her sister hung up.

Caelyn knew the next phone call would be
from her mother, but it never came.
 
Perhaps Deena was just bluffing, or perhaps her mother was in a meeting
and unreachable—it wasn’t an unheard of occurrence.

It was only when the adrenaline rush from
stealing Deena’s car had finally started to wear off that Caelyn began
wondering just what she was doing, driving back to the scene of the crime.

Worse than that, she was going back to
revisit the scene while the perpetrator was there, and they would be alone
together once more.

Maybe my sister’s
right, and I actually have lost my mind
.

It was a tempting, and somewhat
frightening thought.

But then she shook her head and decided
that it was completely wrong.
 
She
was going to face down Jayson because she wouldn’t let him ruin her life, and
she certainly wouldn’t let him ruin Elijah’s life.
 
Elijah had done nothing wrong--he’d only
been defending her.

Elijah’s already been
in plenty of trouble before you, and he’ll probably be in plenty more after
you.
 
Why are you going to risk so much
for a guy you hardly even know?

It was always the same question, and the
answer was never quite satisfying to her mind.
 
But it just came down to a feeling.
 
She had a feeling about Elijah, a
feeling that he was worth it—that he was worth paying the price for,
whatever that price turned out to be.

As Caelyn got closer and closer to
Boston, her stomach began churning, and a strange numbness crept into her hands
and feet.
 
She felt short of breath.

Against her will, scenes from that
horrible night began playing out like a sickening film loop in her mind.
 
Jayson’s face, the smell of pizza and
wine, his voice calmly telling her not to fight.

She could feel his hands gripping her,
the weight of his body crushing her—

At the last moment, she came out of her trancelike
state and just missed rear-ending a car as she drove up to a tollbooth.

She felt her entire body shaking as she
dealt with the close call, nearly having had a major accident because she was
experiencing some kind of post-traumatic stress.

“Get a hold of yourself, Caelyn,” she
said, looking at herself in the rearview mirror.
 
“Get a grip.”

Saying the words aloud and hearing how
normal her voice sounded to her own ears, Caelyn realized she could do it.

She knew that she could pull herself
together and do what needed to be done.

Just focus on Elijah,
just remember what he did for you—what you’re going through is nothing
compared to a prison cell.

Picturing Elijah also helped.
 

Picturing his handsome face, which was
hard and chiseled, but somehow soft when he looked at her—especially his
eyes—or his body, which was like steel, but comforting and warm at the
same time.
 
She’d felt that when
he’d held her that night in the hotel room.

His hardness was only for
protection—it wasn’t who he was deep down.

Thinking of Elijah eased her mind as she
drove the final miles and parked near Jayson’s expensive off-campus apartment.

She hadn’t texted to warn him that she
was truly coming.
 
She hadn’t wanted
to give him time to plan anything.
 
Instead, she just walked up and buzzed his apartment, hoping he would
still be there.
 
If not, she would
wait in the car until he arrived home again.

But there was no need to wait—he
answered the buzzer almost immediately, as if he’d been waiting right beside
the door for her.

“Yes?
 
Who is it?”
 
His voice was reserved, cultured, his
tone so innocent, as if he’d never done anything wrong in his life.

For a brief moment, she wondered if she’d
simply imagined the whole thing.
 
Maybe she was the crazy one and Jayson was her innocent victim.

“It’s me,” she said, shaking off the
moment of weakness.
 
“Caelyn.”
 
Her voice weakened at the end, and she
had to resist the sudden, powerful urge to turn and run.

It’s not worth it,
it’s not worth it, it’s not worth it
!
 

The frightened, childlike voice cried out
in her mind.
 
The voice was
compelling, as was the urge to run home and pretend none of this had ever
happened.

She swallowed back the sickness that rose
in her throat, as Jayson buzzed her in.
 
The sound brought back the memory of the other night, when she’d been
happy and excited to go inside and see him.
 

She almost didn’t get to the door in
time, but at the very last second, her hand shot out, as if with a mind of its
own, and pushed the door open.

The next few moments were a blur, yet
somehow in slow motion, as she walked up the echoing steps and down the hallway
to stand in front of his apartment door.

She went to knock again, but the door
swung open before she even had a chance, and he was standing there, as if he’d
been waiting all along for just this moment.
 
Jayson loomed over her, still sporting a
black eye and a few visible scratches on his face, wearing a loose Cambridge
Rowing sweatshirt and jeans.
 
He
looked at her with a strange, almost confused expression on his face.

“Why did you come here?” he said, not
making way for her to enter the apartment.

She stood tall, refusing to shrink away
from him.
 
“Because, we need to
talk,” she said, simply.
 
“Is anyone
else here?”

He shook his head slowly.
 
“No.”
 
Then he smiled.
 
“Should I find someone, so you don’t
accuse me of another crime?”

“It’s not an accusation,” she began.
 
She was about to say,
it’s the truth
—but something
stopped her.
 
She’d been ready to
play rough, to threaten him with a nasty trial, tainting his reputation and
possibly getting him expelled from school.
 
She would say that all of this was going to become reality unless he
agreed to drop the charges against Elijah.

But suddenly, some little instinct kicked
in and told her that threats would not work with a person like Jayson.
 
He wasn’t normal.
 
Threats would only make him more
insistent on hurting her in return, and hurting Elijah would just be a bonus.