Page 155 of Priceless

“I didn’t do a damn thing.”

“You violated her. You took what wasn’t yours.”

“And now you’re pretending to care. How sweet.”

Patrick yanked Dexter away from the wall and threw him over the tan campus-issued sofa. Behind my shoulder, Alexis gasped.

“I care a lot about what you did to Christina. Let me show you how much I care.”

Dexter got to his feet, his face red, more humiliated than hurt. “What I did? Whatyoudid to her, asshole. What she did to herself.”

Patrick grabbed him and pinned him to the wall again. “You shared our private business,” he growled. “You spied on us. You broke into my girl’s room, stole her savings, and tried to insult her when you don’t deserve to lick her shoes. You will give her back what you took, or I swear to God, I will turn your fucking place upside down the way you did to hers until I find everything I’m looking for.”

My girl?I stared at him. Dexter struggled to get free.

“I didn’t take anything. She’s not yours. Wake up! You can’t buy a girl and treat her like a possession. You’re more fucked up than I’ll ever be.”

“The money’s gone, so no one’s bought anyone.” My sister’s soft voice came from the side.

Dexter blinked, noticing her for the first time. His face flushed in embarrassment. He’d fallen over himself to impress Alexis when he visited my family last summer. He shook it off.

“So someone did you a favor. Washed all your sins away,” he snarled. Patrick squeezed his chin, and Dexter’s dark eyes spat daggers at him. “I don’t know what the hell you’re all up to, but I did not take that money.”

Patrick rattled him. “Then who did?”

“I don’t know!”

“You told the whole school about us. You posted a fucking video, you stole our privacy, you wanted to hurt Christina. Someone robbed her room because they knew they’d find money. You’re no innocent.”

“No, but—” Dexter swallowed. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Okay! I posted a video. But IswearI know nothing about the money. I have Christina’s key. I haven’t used it since we broke up. I’m not a thief.”

“How are we supposed to believe you?” My sister, who believed the best of everyone, crossed her arms over her chest.

Dexter’s eyes turned to me. Patrick still gripped his jaw, holding him motionless, and humiliation was written all over his pretty features.

I could see the truth on that face. We’d dated almost a year; I knew him. The only reason I hadn’t suspected he was hiding things from me was that I’d been too busy hiding myself.

“I believe him,” I said. “He’s telling the truth.” Patrick and Alexis stared at me. “Just give me my key back, Dexter. And then I never want to hear from you again.”

“Fine.” He squinted. “Tell your thug to let me up.”

“Excuse me?” I asked. Patrick watched him impassively, not moving.

“Ask your — friend to let me up.” I cleared my throat, and he added, “Please.”

I nodded to Patrick, who let go of Dexter, keeping a sharp eye on him. Dexter brushed himself off and stomped to his bedroom. We followed.

When he opened the door, my stomach lurched at the sight of the familiar guitar in the corner, the red velvet curtain by the bed, and the desk with its oversized monitor and expensive headphones — a weird jumble of rocker and future executive.

I’d spent a lot of time in this room. Faked a lot of orgasms. And I’d touched myself in the low bed by the window, coming for real to the thought of Patrick, while Dexter slumbered next to me.

“Let’s take care of that video.’” Patrick’s voice was all the more dangerous for being quiet. His light eyes cut to the bed like chips of ice. “Is it still online?”

“Yeah,” Dexter muttered.

“Take it down. Everywhere. While we watch. If there’s anything left, a single mention or comment, I’ll find it and I’ll come back.”

Dexter glowered, but he scraped back his chair and opened his laptop. Patrick loomed behind him like an animal waiting for a chance to snap. He inclined his head, expecting me to join him.

---