Page 60 of Keeping The Virgin

But I don’t know if Cage is even going to finalize my payment from our arrangement. After all, he’s angry, and he’s rich enough to simply refuse if he chooses to. I mean, I broke my contract by leaving before our time was even up…hours before. I hadn’t even been thinking about the technicalities because my emotions were getting the best of me.

God, I’m really in the shit now.

When Liam doesn’t respond to my text, my stomach ties up in rough knots and, for the rest of the day, I wait in terror to see if he’ll carry through with his threats, outing my pictures to the online world.

I can’t eat.

I can’t sleep.

Not until I check my bank account first thing in the morning to find that all of the money Cage promised me is there.

* * *

Two weeks later,Cage still hasn’t said anything about the money or my leaving him in such a rush. He’s stopped asking if I’m okay. He hasn’t followed up with a call or even a text, and his silence has only verified that whatever we had between us is really over. Of course, my heart still has an impossible time accepting that, even as my brain constantly reminds me that it’s true and it’s for the best.

How could I live with someone who doubted me like he did?

I can’t, but I still think of him every day, sometimes every hour, and…god. It never gets better. I ache in the morning, ache during the day, and especially at night. The nights are definitely the worst, because that’s when I remember how excited he made me and how, sometimes, I would see true emotion in his eyes.

But there are a couple of consolations I can take from everything, as I sit on a stone wall at school while watching some upperclassmen toss a Frisbee. First, I’m finally picking up the pieces of my life and moving on. And, best of all, Liam hasn’t contacted me either. After I saw Cage’s money in my bank account, I immediately transferred it to my blackmailer, then texted him saying that I never, ever wanted to see or hear from him again. As far as I was concerned, we had no more business to deal with ever again.

It seems that the money has been enough to keep Liam happy, because there are no pictures or videos of me naked online. No humiliation. No worries about how all of this could’ve affected Cage’s business with Igor Vasiliev, who, by the way did agree to work with Bryant Industries shortly after I left.

I saw the business articles online…not that I’m wallowing in every piece of news about Cage or anything.

All I want to do now is graduate at the end of the semester. I’m going to move forward.

When my phone rings in my backpack, I take it out right away. It’s my mom’s ringtone, but whenever I get a call or text, I keep hoping it’s Cage.

Before I answer, I inhale the fresh air and exhale. My lungs are tight, as if I’m going to cry again, but I shove my emotions aside.

“Hey, Mom,” I say.

Dammit, my voice sounds as if I have been crying. I can’t do anything right, not even shut off my emotions.

Of course, Mom knows best. “Karini, are you okay?”

“Sure. I’ve got my favorite class in fifteen minutes.” It’s a course in recreational mathematics. I saved the fun stuff for my final semester.

I just wish I were actually having more fun.

“All right,” Mom says. “Because lately, you’ve been…”

“I know, Mom.”

Mom, Dad, and my older sister Lacey who doesn’t even live at home, noticed the funk I’ve been in. Right up until I returned to college several days ago they kept wanting to know what’s going on with me, but I kept making excuses, continuing to lick my wounds and keeping matters to myself.

They’d never understand everything I’ve been through anyway.

Mom doesn’t bludgeon me with questions. She knows that won’t help, so she chats about the Thanksgiving plans she’s already making. It doesn’t matter that the holidays are months away—she’s an orchestrator, and both sets of my grandparents will be visiting. She’s calling to confirm that I won’t be taking off during the break to go skiing or snowboarding. It’s her way of saying I’d better be there.

As I assure her I will be, I grab my backpack and start walking to my class on a quieter side of campus. I’m relieved to have my mind taken off Cage with Mom’s light chatter about trying to bake mincemeat pie this year, and after we hang up and I put my phone away, I’m in a slightly better mood. But as I get to the building where my class is held, I feel the skin on the back of my neck prickle. I feel someone following me.

I whip around, jumping back when I see a haggard, strung-out guy with greasy blond hair and reddened eyes. He’s wearing a rumpled button down and trousers.

“Hey, Karini,” Liam says.

I stumble backward into a dim hallway, and he follows me. Too late, I realize there’s no one else around.

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