Page 70 of Fake Dates and Home Plates
Bash shakes his head, eyes wild. “We need to endthem.”
“Can you send me the recording? I’ll send it over to the investigator.”
Henley looks over at me with confusion, and it’s then I realize I never filled her in. There isn’t much to tell her, but we’ve been so busy, I didn’t even remember she doesn’t know the little I’ve done about this situation.
“I’ve been trying to find some tangible proof of what they’ve been doing,” I explain. “This might be enough, but something tells me it won’t be.”
I feel fucking defeated. And if I’m feeling this way, then how do all the people hurt by this group of disgusting assholes feel?
“It’s going to be an our word versus their word situation,” Bash says with a sigh. “And they’ll be able to find the right people to make sure they don’t look guilty at all.”
“What about reporting it to the Dean?” Henley asks. “This has to violate some sort of code of conduct.”
I shake my head. “We could, but without something irrefutable, we’ll be in the same position.”
Henley runs her fingers through her hair as she thinks, her face serious and eyebrows pulled down in concentration.
“Do you think your investigator could find the identities of anonymous social media accounts?” she asks me.
“I’m sure if he can’t, he knows someone who could,” I tell her, thinking back to the trolling comments from a few months ago.
She pulls out her phone and sends a message. “If you can figure that out, I might have an idea.”
Bash sits down, finally joining us at the table. “What are you thinking?”
Henley shrugs. “We need to force their hand, switch the narrative against them. And the only way we can do that is by ruining the public’s perception.”
When she explains, we both listen intently.
Once we have a plan, I kiss her hard on the mouth. “I’ll drive you home and call Finn. I think he might be able to help with this.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Henley
I’m sitting at the diner, thanking Tracey for my hot chocolate, waiting for the rest of my teammates. Well,formerteammates.
My head is still pounding, though not as badly as this morning. I feel like a lightweight. My eyes watch the door then wander to my phone, then back to the door again.
I sent out a text earlier, being vague, asking anyone who could to meet me here to talk.
Lily’s the first to arrive, the bell over the door announcing her arrival. She slides in next to me at the table. Thankfully, the place is empty tonight, save for Tracey and the cook.
When I mentioned to Tracey I was hosting a team meeting and we’d be discussing something sensitive, she offered to lock the door and hang out in the back. She warned me there are cameras, but she didn’t think the owners would mind.
Slowly, familiar faces filter in. Although not everyone could attend, it appears the majority are here. Many of them are ordering dinner or something to drink.
“So,” I start carefully, glancing around at all of them, “thank you all for coming on short notice.”
I nod at Tracey, who locks the door and excuses herself to the back. Curious eyes are on me as silence falls over the group.
“This conversation requires privacy,” I explain. “I need to ask something, and I know it’s not…easy.”
Lily looks over at me, brows lifting in silent question.Two freshman stop picking at their fries.
I force myself to continue. “It’s about the Delta Alpha guys. I know some of you have had uncomfortable experiences with the fraternity.”
A chorus of agreement rings through the room, and my stomach dips. I really hope things haven’t gotten worse since we talked in the locker room.
