Sugar Rush (23 page)

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Authors: Sawyer Bennett

BOOK: Sugar Rush
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As he leans in toward me, JT's face twists into an ugly grimace and the reeking fumes of alcohol wash across my face. “You're still a mess, Sela.”

Those words…

You're a mess.

Still a mess…

My eyes go round with understanding and JT nods vigorously at me, his cracked lips peeling back, stretching so tight in a macabre smile that they start to ooze blood. “That's right, Sela. Did you think the brown hair would throw me off? Think I wouldn't recognize that face…that mouth…that throat that swallowed my cum? One of the best fucks I've ever had and you didn't think I wouldn't remember that?”

I go dizzy at the implication, my lungs deflating with the realization that JT knows who I am.

He. Knows. Who. I. Am.

“I didn't see it right away,” JT whispers, his face hovering just over mine. “Not that night at the mixer. But in Beck's office…in the clear light of day, and frankly, I was sober then…I saw it. Knew exactly who you were, and I had to wonder why in the fuck you'd bother to come back into my life.”

“You sick fuck,” I scream at him, trying to buck but having no leverage. “Get off me.”

JT's hand tightens on my throat, his cast pushing harder on my chest. My lungs compress and I fight to drag in a tiny breath of precious oxygen.

“I have to assume you told Beck all about our interlude at that party, right?” JT taunts. “Otherwise, why would he be so determined to get me out of The Sugar Bowl?”

I try to shake my head in the negative, feed him a lie so that perhaps he doesn't see me as a threat, but he merely responds by gripping me harder.

“I have to admit,” he says, eyes wild with fevered craze. “You're in a very tempting position. I could fuck you raw right now and not a damn thing you could do about it.”

“Get off,” I wheeze, my vision starting to go blurry.

He ignores me, shifts his weight. For a brief and blessed moment, his hand relaxes and I drag in air that feels like razors against my bruised neck. But he merely moves his casted arm upward and places it at the base my throat and presses down. My hands release his wrist and move to the cast, trying to push him off. “But I don't have time for that. I've got bigger problems…namely that you're a major threat to my existence. Why you haven't gone to the cops yet is beyond me, but fuck if I'll take that chance now.”

He leans his weight on me. A gray haze starts to crowd my peripheral vision and an image of Beck's face flashes before me.

“One more thing I want you to know before I end you,” JT says in a soft voice…almost lovingly. “Surely you know you're not my first, and definitely weren't my last. In these next few moments, when I'm choking the life out of you, I want you to go with the knowledge that you're not the only girl of Beck's who caught my attention. Sweet Caroline was a lovely piece that I just couldn't resist, and she put up a much bigger fight than you ever did, which made it all the better for me.”

My eyes flare wide and a surge of anger pulses through me as I understand what he's saying.

God…JT raped Caroline? He's Ally's father?

“That's right,” he says with a laugh as he reads the expression on my face. “Slipped her a little Rohypnol in her drink at her parents' Christmas party, followed her home, and when her date dropped her off, she was easy pickings.”

I growl against the weight of his cast on my throat, narrowing my eyes at him with hatred. As incomprehensible as it is, I have no choice but to believe him. I try to pull in air but get nothing. My hands release my hold on his cast, and I start to flail in a desperate attempt to do something. Find something to help me live through this, and avenge not only myself but Caroline as well.

But as the lack of oxygen starts to shut my body down, the gray gets darker, I feel myself starting to give in to the pull of oblivion.

I glance at the clock on the mantel for maybe the hundredth time, the nauseating feeling of unease that's been steadily increasing over the last hour threatening to expel the Michael Mina scallops. I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Sela again. It rings only twice before going directly to voice mail, but I don't bother leaving another message. She'll get the point I'm worried when she listens to the other two I've left.

I have no clue where she is or why she hasn't responded to me, but this is what I do know. Her last class got out at one
P.M.
, just about the time I was with Dennis. She had told me that morning she had planned to come back to the condo and do some studying here, and we knew that Caroline and Ally would be arriving roughly around four thirty or so, depending on the drive after Caroline got off work and picked Ally up from preschool. When I got home around two thirty, it was to an empty condo.

Fine. No problem. Maybe Sela decided to study at Golden Gate's library. She does that sometimes. Or maybe she went to the grocery store. Not out of the realm of possibility, although we tend to eat out more than we cook in.

Still, plausible possibilities and I know I shouldn't worry.

Except I am, because the one thing Sela wouldn't do is ignore my calls. She would have texted me her change of plans. And if she was unable to take my first call for some reason, she absolutely would have called me back once she got my first message, which was left almost two hours ago.

Something's wrong. I can feel it deep in my gut. It actually makes my bones ache.

Add on top of that, I haven't heard a peep from JT today, and my trouble radar is going haywire. He should have called by now, as he knows his deadline is looming. I had hoped for the call to come saying he accepted my offer. At the very least, I expected a call from him trying to get me to change my mind. I knew it was a distinct possibility JT wasn't going to just roll over and take what I offered. He's a businessman first and foremost. He would try to negotiate, of that I'm sure. He would try to find leverage over me, and he'd use it to his benefit.

And now Sela seems to be off the grid, and she would be the biggest source of leverage JT could get his hands on.

But no.

That's fucking ridiculous to even think that JT would have Sela. Or that Sela would go near JT. Or that she's anywhere other than the library studying, for some reason forgot to text me, and has her phone off so as not to disturb others.

The doorbell rings and I nearly jump out of my skin, first thinking it's Sela, then realizing she wouldn't be ringing the doorbell.

I stride to the door, look through the peephole and confirm it's Caroline and Ally, and then unlatch the lock to let them in. I look first down to Ally, giving her as wide a smile as I can muster, bending down to pick her up. Her little arms go around my neck and she hugs me silently. I look over her shoulder, trying for the same smile at Caroline, but her brow immediately furrows with worry.

“What's wrong?” she asks me bluntly, because she can just tell.

I shake my head slightly to her to let her know that I don't want to discuss this in front of Ally. She steps in, brushes past me, and heads into the living room. “Ally…come watch some TV for a few minutes. I need to talk to Uncle Beck privately.”

I follow her in while Caroline expertly navigates the programming guide until she finds
Dora the Explorer
. I drop Ally down on the couch, ruffle her hair, and whisper, “Be back in a jiff, cutie.”

She smiles at me and then her eyes go to the TV and remain glued there.

I walk back to my office with Caroline following. She shuts the door behind her and says, “Where's Sela? Did you two get in a fight?”

I whirl around in surprise. “God, no. We're fine. Perfect. But she's not here and she should be, and I'm worried.”

Caroline's look of concern turns to one of amused exasperation. “Geez, Beck. So she's a few minutes late…no biggie. Although I think it's adorable the way you worry about her.”

“No,” I say harshly, and Caroline blinks at me in stunned surprise. “It's not a matter of her being a few minutes late. It's something more than that…I can just tell. There's just some stuff that—”

I stop, not even sure what I should to say to Caroline. I'm sure she'd understand, but there's still a tiny part of me that's hoping that Sela will be breezing through the door any minute with a sheepish look of apology on her face.

“Hey,” Caroline says softly, stepping toward me with her head tilted. “You're really scared something might be wrong, aren't you?”

I take a deep breath, scrub my hand through my hair, and then let it out in a frustrated sigh. “Yeah…there's some shit going on that I really can't—”

“You tell me everything that's going on right this fucking minute, Beckett North,” Caroline says with an imperial tone and a look that says she means business. “I'm your sister and I've got your back always. Just like you've had mine, so spill it right now.”

My lips curve upward involuntarily, because my sister is fierce and cute all at the same time. She's also been the only one I've been able to turn to in my life who supports me one hundred percent, no questions asked. And I know I can trust her with my worries and the underlying basis for them.

“I don't even know where to begin,” I say hesitantly, “because really…this story is beyond complex and unbelievable.”

“At the beginning,” she says calmly as she takes my hand. Giving me a tug, she leads me to the two guest chairs and pushes me down in one before taking the other one and turning it to face me. She sits down, leans forward, and says, “Spill it.”

I take a deep breath, hold Caroline's eyes with my own in a steady gaze, and start to tell her the story. “A little over ten years ago, Sela was raped by JT. It's why we invited you over tonight. She was going to tell you, so…you know…you would have someone you could talk to if you wanted.”

“What?” Caroline gasps, jerking backward until she's sitting ramrod straight.

I nod. “He drugged and raped her, along with two other guys. She didn't know it was him at the time, but not long ago identified him by the tattoo on his ribs.”

“What tattoo?” she asks curiously.

“A red phoenix. Same one I have…I mean had on the back of my shoulder.”

“Was it a fraternity thing?” she asks, as she knows the origin of my phoenix.

“Not sure,” I tell her truthfully, but then try to steer her back to the full story. Because she's only got the very tip of the iceberg. “But she came after JT looking for revenge. Met me instead, and well…you know, things developed. She eventually told me the truth about JT.”

“Jesus,” she mutters. “What did you do?”

“You don't want to know,” I say, dropping my gaze to my lap.

“Uh…yes, I do. Are you in trouble? Is she in trouble?”

My eyes drag up to hers, miserable with worry. “Sela plans to go to the police. But first we wanted him out of The Sugar Bowl. Wanted to make the break before he gets arrested so the company could be salvaged.”

“And just how did you plan to get him out?” she asks, her voice laced with fear.

“I had him investigated. Found out he owed a lot of money to a bookie and that he doubled down on a UFC fight. I paid one of the fighters to take a dive and now JT owes more money than he has. I offered to bail him out if he signs over the rights to the company.”

“Goddamn it, Beck,” Caroline yells as she surges out of her seat, then immediately lowers her voice after her eyes dart to the door. “That is some serious fucking criminal shit you just did.”

“I know,” I say as I sink further into the chair, clasping my hands tight. “But save the lecture right now. I'm worried about Sela because she's supposed to be here and she's not, and she won't answer or return my calls. Something's wrong.”

“You think it has to do with JT?” she whispers.

“I don't know,” I say angrily, standing up from my chair. “I just know that his deadline to pay the money is looming and he should have given me an answer by now. Couple that with Sela being missing, and I don't know what the fuck to think.”

“Okay, calm down,” Caroline says as she folds her arms across her chest and starts pacing in front of my desk. “Maybe you should call JT. Just a casual call, ask him if he's made a decision.”

“Maybe,” I say, because the thought had crossed my mind. I can't even imagine why Sela would be with him, or his having anything to do with her being missing, but still…that might help ease my mind.

“Just call him right now,” Caroline urges.

“Okay,” I say, and pull my phone from my pocket. Just as I pull up JT's contact and start to select it, the doorknob to my office rattles and starts to turn. Caroline and I immediately face the door, prepared for Ally to nose her way in to see what we're doing.

Instead, when the door slowly swings open, Sela's standing there.

Prickles of icy fear sling slide my spine and my heart starts thundering. She's wearing an oversized gray zippered sweatshirt pulled tight around her, one arm held protectively over her stomach. The hood is pulled up over her head and her shoulders are hunched. While much of her face is in shadows, I can see that her eyes are dead and her skin is ghost white.

“Sela?” I say hesitantly, terrified by her sudden presence and odd clothing.

She steps into the office, eyes cutting to Caroline before coming back to me with abject misery clouding her blue irises. She slowly shuts the door behind her, takes a step toward me, and lets out a tiny sob.

“What's happened?” I say as I round the guest chairs and rush to her. Her head drops so I'm only staring at the top of the sweatshirt hood, and I can see her body shaking fiercely. My hands go to the sides of her head and I tilt it upward. With my fingers, I peel the hood backward and gasp when I see Sela's face in its entirety.

Her eyes are bloodshot with tears leaking out and running in rivulets down her face. There's a smear of blood on her jaw and purple marks on her neck.

“What the fuck?” I curse low and my hands pull the sweatshirt apart at the neckline.

Caroline gasps behind me when I open the thick gray material wide.

I stare in utter horror at Sela's white long-sleeved T-shirt that is drenched in blood on the front, most of it dried but with a few patches of shiny wet sticking to her skin. Small spatters spray outward to the shoulders and up her throat, which I can now see is covered in a thick horizontal bruise across the bottom of her throat.

“Fuck, Sela,” I say, feeling my eyes start to water. “How badly are you injured? Where did all this blood come from?”

Sela shakes her head vigorously from side to side as she pulls her hand away. Her face tilts up and her eyes meet mine with such sadness I think my knees might buckle.

“Not mine,” she says, her voice raspy and filled with pain I'm guessing is from that bruise on her throat.

My eyes cut to Caroline, who stands there with her hand over her mouth, eyes drowning with intense worry. When I look back to Sela, she gives a cough and says, “JT. The blood is JT's.”

My stomach bottoms out, and even as horrified as I am by what she's just said to me, I'm filled with so much relief that she's safe that I pull her into my arms, not caring about the blood all over her.

Resting my chin on top of her head as my arms hold her gently, I whisper to no one in particular and expecting no answer in return, “Oh, Sela. What have you done?”

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