Page 58 of Lords of the Campus

His face gets close to mine and his lips move toward me, but I push him away a little clumsily.

“Sorry, I… I don’t mean to reject you, but I’m not in the right headspace for anything,” I tell him, my words slurring as I speak. “It’s not you. It’s me. I’m all fucked up.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Cameron asks, his mask falling. “I’ve been nothing but patient with you, Lyric. I deserve better than this!”

Anger fills his eyes and mine widen as I lean away from him. “You’ve been leading me on this whole time!” Cameron says, his voice harsh. “I picked up the pieces every time those bastards flung you over and you don’t even see it. Fine, if you won’t give it up, I’ll just take it from you. You owe me that much.”

He lunges for me and I try to fight him off, but the alcohol makes it hard to focus. His hand pushes up under my dress, and I cry out for help.

I don’t know if anyone can hear me. We’re far away, and the music is too loud. Panic overtakes me as I try to stop him.

“Help!” I scream again, horrified at what is happening to me.

Just as Cameron pins me down to the bed, the door bursts open.

33

ARCHER

The rest of the day drags on endlessly. Misery gnaws at my insides, leaving me listless and unfocused. Our confrontation with Lyric left me feeling hollow, which is echoed in Levi and Zane’s faces.

When we left to confront Lyric, we thought we were fighting for the right to know our son, but now it feels like we’re still obsessed with winning at any cost. I’m sick of every conversation with Lyric ending in a screaming match, with insults thrown back and forth on each side like grenades.

I can’t shake the feeling that every time we’ve tried to get back at Lyric, the people we end up hurting are ourselves.

Desperate for a distraction, we decide to go out and drown our sorrows at a college party, but it’s just our luck that the only party is at Sigma Theta, a place we’d normally avoid at all costs.

But it’s better than drowning in our own thoughts, so we throw some clothes on and head over, getting lost in the mindless punk-pop playing over the speakers and the disgusting mixed drinks on tap in the kitchen.

I wander through the crowd, trying to find something, anything, to pull me out of this funk. But all I can think about isLyric and Eli. I can’t believe how quickly things spiraled out of control.

Upstairs, I search for the bathroom, needing a moment away from the crowd. The hallway is dark and quieter, a stark contrast to the chaos below. As I reach for the bathroom door, I hear it—a muffled scream, faint but unmistakable.

Furrowing my brow, I creep closer to where I heard the sound coming from—one of the rooms at the end of the hallway. I stand outside and listen carefully, wondering if someone is in trouble and needs assistance.

I hear a yell more clearly this time, a plea for help, and I freeze, instantly recognizing the voice I’m hearing.

It’s Lyric.

Adrenaline fuels me as I bust the door open and nausea fills my stomach at the sight of Cameron Grant pinning Lyric down on his bed.

Lyric’s face turns toward mine, fear and pleading in her eyes. I don’t hesitate and run back into the hall, needing backup.

“Levi, Zane! Get up here, now!” I scream as loud as I can. Within seconds, I hear them scrambling up the stairs. The tone of my voice must have them worried because they’re racing down the hallway as I storm back into the bedroom.

Both of them act at the same time, pouncing on Cameron and dragging him off Lyric as I grab her and carry her off, sprinting down the stairs with her and getting her as far away from that asshole as I can. I trust my brothers to take care of that asshole. My only focus is on protecting Lyric.

She’s having a panic attack, I realize, as I hear the sound of her gasping for breath. I take her to our house, dashing up the stairs with her at top speed to get her into my bedroom where I know she’ll be safe.

She clings to me as I try to lower her onto the bed, so I stay with her, holding her tightly as she wheezes for a breath, unable to calm down.

“Breathe with me,” I order her, trying to help. Right now, I need to get her calm so she doesn’t have a horrible anxiety attack and end up in the hospital. Lyric shakes her head, eyes wide and unfocused.

“I can’t… I can’t!” Lyric wails, grabbing at her chest. Her dress is hiked up over her hips, and I realize she must be freezing, so I wrap us both in my down comforter, holding her tight to my chest.

“Can you be my good girl?” I ask, trying to change my tactic. “Be good for me, Lyric. Breathe in and out on my count. Are you going to be good or do I have to punish you?” I don’t know if this will work and I’m scared that this might make her worse, but I have to try.

Lyric’s eyes meet mine, and I notice how bloodshot they look. I frown. “Have you been drinking?” I ask.