Page 69 of Fake Dates and Home Plates
That’s not cool. In fact, I think it’s pretty fucked up, but I give him a moment to explain.
“It’s Sunny.” His voice sounds like he’s swallowed rocks.
Every part of me goes still. “What about her?”
Henley throws off her shades, just as worried.
Bash rubs his hands over his jeans before placing them back on the table. His fists clench and unclench before he says, “Can we go to one of the study rooms?”
Henley and I are on our feet instantly, tossing our trash and following him to the quiet rooms upstairs. We take a seat at the small table, but Bash remains standing.
He starts pacing, which makes me even more nervous. “Last night, Sunny told me she was meeting up with some friends. That’s why she left the party early.”
I nod. I remember her telling us the same thing after she forced us all into a game of beer pong.
“They were party hopping, and somehow, they ended up at the Delta Alpha house.” Bash drags a hand down his face.
Henley tenses at his words, and I reach out to squeeze her knee, letting her know I’m here for her too.
“She’s okay, now,” he says. “But she was already a little past her limit when she left our party. Anyway, she was trying to get her friends to leave when a guy asked her to dance.”
It looks like it pains him to repeat what happened to his sister, and I can’t imagine how angry and upset he must be. I know he’s warned Sunny about the frat house, and she’s probably heard rumors herself, but that still doesn’t mean she’s not entitled to basic human decency.
“Somehow, she ended up being led into a room with two guys.” Bash looks like he’s going to vomit.
The air gets sucked out of the room. I can feel Henley shaking with rage, my own simmering beneath the surface of my skin.
“Tell me you’re not saying what I think you’re saying.” My voice comes out like gravel.
“Lukas was there, thank fuck. I don’t know what would have—” His voice cuts off, unable to finish the thought. “He busted the door down.”
I’m not sure how Lukas ended up at a Delta Alpha party, but judging by the way he was staring Sunny down last night, I could take a guess.
Bash’s jaw locks. “That’s the only reason it didn’t go further.”
“Is she okay?” Henley sounds like she has to force the words out.
He nods, and collectively, we take a breath.
“She recorded it.” Bash digs his phone out with shaking hands. “Just in case. All of it.”
He taps play. The audio is shaky and muffled, but you can make out what’s happening.
Sunny’s voice comes through, and she sounds polite but nervous. “I think I’d like to get back to my friends now.”
Just then, you can hear a loud boom and a scuffle, and then I hear him.
Dakota’s voice. “Relax. We’re just trying to get her a place to rest.”
“Those motherfuckers.” The words rip out of me, low and lethal. My chest heaves, my fists clenching again, itching to find Dakota right now.
Bash is still pacing. “She’s acting like she’s fine, but I know she’s not.”
Henley finally speaks up. “Give her some space. She knew what they were planning and is probably running through a lot of emotions right now.”
All I see is Sunny’s face, terrified. All I hear is Dakota’s voice, casual as hell, as if he weren’t planning to do something despicable.
This is the last straw. “We need to end this.”
