Page 144 of The Pact

She didn’t agree, although she still rushed over with a care basket filled with candies, wine, salty snacks, fuzzy socks, and face masks. We both know these are superficial bandages. Nothing will fully heal what I’ve been through, but I appreciate her effort.

“Alright, I ordered all the props we’ll need. We just need to settle on a date!” Her voice draws my attention. I hadn’t realized that she was consumed by her phone while I stared blankly at the movie we’ve hardly watched.

I smile at her gratefully. “Well, we should probably do it before fall and Halloween. The last weekend in August? That will give us plenty of time to edit and order books, so it’s here before the thirty-first.”

“Perfect! I think it’ll go over a little better if people associate it with Halloween. You know how people are—Halloween can pull out the sluttiness in even the most modest woman.” She shrugs and I laugh at the observation. She’s not wrong.

We won’t have much time to promote it, however, that might work to our advantage. “Let’s get some ads running and spread the word around town. Hopefully, it’ll create some urgency since the spots are limited,” I suggest optimistically.

Cassie doesn’t waste any time. She’s back on her phone, her fingers flying as she sends out messages and posts on her social media.

Wesley pops his head in. I’ve lost count of how many times he’s checked on me today. All of them have been waiting on me hand and foot, in their own ways, since I woke up this morning.

Cole made me a breakfast fit for a queen, bringing it to me in Wesley’s bed and insisting on staying until I’d eaten to his satisfaction. Damian, while not so obviously concerned, has been more watchful of me. I wonder if he’s nervous that I might go to the police or if he’s making sure I’m not downplaying my injuries from last night—realistically, probably both.

Sutton had to work today. However, he’s texted me no less than fifteen times to see if the guys are taking care of me and promised me a full body massage when he gets home, if I’m up for it.

The offer sent a wave of tingles through me. I feel guilty. After last night, I shouldn’t want anyone to touch me. But I do—I want them to touch me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

Before he can ask, I repeat for the twentieth time, “No double vision and the pain is a three.” My answer doesn’t seem to satisfy him. “I could use some ibuprofen.” I smile sweetly as I make the request.

Wes looks relieved that I finally need something. I watch him walk out of the room. My smile falters once he’s gone. Trying to slow my pounding heart, I hope I was convincing enough to conceal what I’ve been hiding from him, from everyone.

Just before Cassie arrived, my phone dinged. I thought it was Sutton checking in on me again. No. Not even close. Gavin’s name appeared with more sinister messages.

Gavin: I wish I could have watched those guys rape you. That’s what whores deserve.

Gavin: I wonder if the police would be interested in finding the bodies of two missing men…I know where to find them.

Me: You’re going to regret it if you don’t leave me alone!

I shouldn’t have responded, but I couldn’t take his taunts anymore. I deleted his messages and blocked him once again. I had my suspicions before about him sneaking into the house, but I’m sure of it now. There’s no other explanation.

Cassie giggles and throws me a smirk, pulling me from my anxious thoughts. “You’ve got them wrapped around your finger,” she teases.

“I do not.” I force a grin so that she doesn’t see that I’m hiding something.

Her brows raise. “They would walk through fire for you, probably with smiles on their faces.”

No, they would kill for me. The thought is sobering. Fire is for rookies.

49

THEA

Sweat drips down my forehead and I’m out of breath. My heart pounds painfully and my legs ache. My ankle is mostly better, but today, it’s hurting more than usual. I throw my elbow back, connecting with his jaw. His grip around my waist loosens a little and I turn, wrenching myself free.

What’s next? Fuck. I can’t remember as I stand there, frozen.

He recovers and doesn’t waste a second. His hand is around my throat, squeezing too tightly and restricting my breathing. I’m panicking as I think of a way to escape. My hands flail wildly, reaching for his face, although they’re too short.

My lungs sting as each breath gets harder to take. Spots dance in my vision. “Fail.” Wesley lets go and walks away. I gasp, filling my lungs with as much air as possible while falling forward to brace myself on my knees. “Eyes, groin, throat,” he reminds me for the hundredth time.

I raise my head to look at him. He’s casually taking a long pull of water from a gallon jug. He’s being mean. I know why—he’s frustrated that I’m not retaining what he’s taught me and he’s scared that he won’t always be there to rescue me.

Wes didn’t tell me those things, however, I see it in his face.

I’ll be doing good, working through the motions, and I’ll even see pride shine in his eyes. Then, I’ll forget a crucial step and concern flashes over his face. I get it, but he doesn’t have to be such a dick.

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