Page 125 of Second Sets Omnibus
How could he walk away without letting me explain anything? How could he not see that Van had assaulted me in the kitchen? Pulling out my phone and texting the group, I don't waste a moment.
Me
I know what you think you saw…
Please talk to me.
He KISSED me… He did it against my will! I said no! I punched him for fuck’s sake.
I didn’t want it.
Please… can someone talk to me?
Why’re you all ignoring me?
“River,” Van murmurs through the door, lightly knocking against the wood.
“Go away!” I cry out, trying to hold the emotions clogging my throat. “You fucking psychopath! No means no, asshole!” I hiss, sucking in oxygen.
“Look, I’m sorry. I… I still love you, Rivey. I can’t help it. I won’t leave until I know you’re okay,” he says with concern, tapping on the door again.
“I’ll be okay when you fucking leave!” I shout through shuddering breaths, feeling the warmth of my tears spreading down my cheeks as my heart breaks into a million pieces.
“Fine,” he says softly, “but I’ll be a phone call away when you need me. I’ll always be there for you, Rivey. Whether you like it or not.”
Crawling into my cold bed, I silence my sniffles with my comforter until the sound of my front door slams shut, leaving me with only the tumultuous thoughts wreaking havoc inside my brain. Here I am, once again alone like I always thought I’d be on the night before my mother’s funeral.
I stare at my phone for hours, counting the minutes until the sun rises, and I heave myself out of bed. The same numbness sets in like before. This time, it wraps me in its arms like a hug that I embrace, carrying with me all day.
I expect to see the guys coming to pay their respects throughout the funeral, but they never show—not even a quick pop-in to say goodbye. Unlike them, Van dares to show his face, filled with massive amounts of sympathy. He even drops flowers at my front door with a note apologizing for his actions and asking me to call him. My heart sinks when the funeral wraps up, and I’m left with one last pitying look from a pastor I’ve never met before going home.
That night, I settle into my cold bed by myself. The loneliness presses in on me from all sides, squeezing my chest. Usually, Callum is here by now, kicking off his shoes and climbing into bed with me. Sometimes with Rad in tow. It's been three miserable nights without them. Longing sets in, making me reach for my phone again.
For the thousandth time, I check my messages and sigh. They've all been sent, but the boys have not seen or acknowledged them. What the fuck is going on? They can't seriously think I'd ever kiss Van voluntarily or enjoy it. They've seen how many times I've refused his advancements. There's something more going on than meets the eye, but I don’t have the energy to inspect it.
My eyes refuse to shut as the painful memories of the last few days play through my head. The look Callum gave me when he shook his head full of disappointment and took off will haunt me for the rest of my life.
And they got into the Battle of the Bands and didn't bother to tell the one person who rooted for them since the beginning—me.
“And you haven’t heardfrom them?” Ode asks, biting the edge of her nail with suspicion.
Her eyes follow me through the entire disgusting bathroom of the bar I’m pacing through. Watching as I slowly spiral into the dark abyss of bullshit that my life keeps serving up to me on a pretty plate of fuckery. “Like, they just dropped off the edge of the earth?” Her shrill voice echoes throughout the bar bathroom, bouncing off the tiled walls.
I shrug, continuing my pacing in the small space of the bathroom.
“No. Not a fucking word,” I seethe, anger brewing like a firestorm under my skin. If I get my damn hands on them again, I'll wring their necks and make them wish they had died a slow death. “I’ve fucking called and texted, and it always goes unanswered.” Every goddamn day. Every hour. I'm desperate to get their attention or make them talk to me. Fucking cowards!
My fists curl at my sides, desperate to lash out and punch the damn wall, but I stop myself. Taking a breath, I waltz back over to Ode and shake my head.
“How the fuck does this happen, Ode?” Tears burn down my cheeks in a fury, glaring at the three innocent pregnancy tests lining the shitty countertop, all coming up positive.
Positive! How could my uterus betray me like this? I'm on birth control to prevent this kind of thing from happening! Millions of women pray for this tiny miracle every day, and I've been handed one without trying. How the hell is that fair? Especially when I'm not sure if I can handle this right now. A baby? Me? Not without a support system. And seeing as Odette and her family are the only people I have left; my options are limited. God. A hammer pounds in my skull, filling my ears with the sound of my beating heart. Panic swarms through my entire system, threatening to send me spiraling down the damn drain if I don’t get ahold of myself and process what the fuck is going on.
Ode’s eyes turn sympathetic when she pulls me into her arms. “Fuck them,” she murmurs. “You don’t need them. I’ll be your baby daddy. I’ll be a better daddy than them, anyway.” I snort into her shoulder, cursing the fucking idiots who put me in this position. “But to answer your question. You usually get a little P in the V action, and then… bam! Baby batter makes tiny humans,” she says with a sly grin, grunting when I smack her on the arm. “Ouch, bitch. I was just trying to make you laugh. No need for all that violence,” she huffs, rubbing her arm with fake outrage.
If it weren’t for Odette and her constant support, I would have curled up in a little ball on my bedroom floor, unmoving for days. Hot tears burn behind my eyes from the anger boiling deep under the surface, mixing with resentment. December 15th came and went without a word from the guys. The day we would have gone to the Battle of the Bands. My California dream sizzles intosmoldering ashes right before my eyes. Not only did the guys stop texting and calling me weeks ago, but they also blocked me from every form of social media they had and changed their passwords and usernames so I couldn’t access them like I had before.
So, my nosy ass looked it up, and wouldn't you know, they were as gorgeous as ever rocking out on the big stage at The KC Club. The crowd had roared with delight, throwing their hands in the air and waving them around at the sultry sound. Much like I had before, standing in awe before the Gods on stage. Then reality crashed, and I closed out the video, refusing to see if they won. And you know, I don't give a shit. Not at all. They can win or lose or walk off a cliff for all I care. Shit.
