Page 63 of All Bets Are Off

No one speaks up as we all look at each other, just waiting for someone to come up with the answers for us. Finally, I sigh. “I can’t be sure of anything about her anymore.”

Zaide claps his hands together, a resounding boom echoing through the kitchen. “We just can’t let her get into our heads. We need to remember why we came here. She’s given us the perfect opportunity by accepting the bet.”

He points to the slightly crumpled piece of paper and before I know it, Hudson’s wicked grin is back. If they’re willing to leave our interactions with Brielle in the past, I don’t think I could have asked for anything better. That’s where she belongs. In our pasts.

“The bet?” I question, nodding to the paper.

They both nod in unison, mischievous smiles on both their faces. Concern lines Ashton’s face and I can’t say I blame him. Even I feel a sense of unease at how excited these two hotheads are. They turn over the flyer and I can’t help the laugh that escapes.

Ash scoffs, “There’s no way she will.”

Zaide shrugs, almost looking excited by the prospect, even as he presses frozen peas to his eye. “Then she gets punished.”

“And if she accepts?” he asks skeptically.

I smirk along with the guys. This truly is genius. Damned if she does, damned if she doesn’t. “Same as always,” I answer. “She gets a reward.”

ChapterTwenty-Five

My body is still litteredin dark shades of purple and blue.

I stare in dismay as I gently towel my body dry, running my fingers over the marks that cover most of my body. Some of the bruises have started to fade and turn yellow, but the newer ones are very obvious. I twist and turn, inspecting my body from all different angles in the mirror and I feel tears gather in the back of my eyes as I look at myself. The shame hurts almost as much as the guilt.

The first few days after I snatched the bracelet off Zaiden’s desk and accepted the bet were filled with anticipation and nerves at what the guys would make me do. You’d think I’d dropped to my knees and offered to suck him off again only this time with an audience given how shocked he looked. How they all looked. I couldn’t help but relish in their reactions. All four of them stared at me like they had never seen me before, like they couldn’t figure out what game I was playing.

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like they would have any reason to think something larger was at play here. I’ve worked damn hard to keep my cards close to my chest. To only make moves that I was positive I could make from the shadows.

I look down at the flyer on the counter. They slipped it under my dorm room door a couple of nights ago with four familiar words scribbled in marker across the back.

I bet you can’t

This is the biggest risk I’ve taken. One I’m not sure I can mitigate the potential damage. I hold my breath as my eyes lock on the dark blotches that span across and down my ribs. The air hisses out between my lips as the burn of my lungs becomes unbearable, but hurts even more as my lungs expand against my fragile frame. The risk is almost unbearable, but it just might be worth it.

Since I took the bracelet back into my possession, the rest of the week has been uneventful. I knew they wouldn’t take another strike against me, which has kept Carson placated and back to playing the perfect doting boyfriend. He’s been attentive and over affectionate. Far too touchy and it makes my skin crawl, but it’s better than the alternative.

I’m already having a hard time getting out of bed every day without some help. Taking the bet, buying myself some time without any more punishments, just might give me the edge I need. The chance to clear my head of the fog that’s been filling it for the last few weeks. To heal from some of the damage so I can make it through the days without any help.

Taking the bet at least puts some of my problems on hold. If I can make it through the night in one piece, I just might have several weeks of peace. It might also have to do with my own selfish need to get back at them. If I complete the bet that means my turn is over and I have to nominate someone else, just like old times. If they think I am going to back down after all the shit they have pulled lately, they are sadly mistaken.

I run my fingers over the handwritten words on the flyer.

The words a familiar taunt that soothe me as I read over the other side with a small smile. A campus undie run, where students are not only advised to participate, but encouraged. What better way to spend a Friday night than to run around campus in your underwear? A jolt of excitement pulses through me as I digest the words, what they are asking of me. It’s all so similar to the kinds of things we did in high school, the kind of things I wouldn't think twice about, but things are so different now.

My nerves, excitement, dread, fear, and hope all war within me. Making it impossible to decide on only one feeling. I have hope that everything will go well and I will gain a small piece of freedom. I fear that allowing myself to play the guys’ game may only get me burned. I dread Carson ever getting wind of this. I want to see the guys and feel like old times.

Come on, Brielle. There’s no time like the present. We made our decision. No reward without a little risk. Or a whole lot of risk in this case. We’ve got this. I’ve totally got this, even if I’m speaking to myself again. It’s totally fine. I put the fun in dysfunctional.

I wipe my hands down my face and lightly smack my cheeks. Time to get this ass in gear. I chew on my lip as I study my body once more. There are bruises visible from my neck, down to my legs. This may be a little more challenging than I thought.

I’m grateful that I planned ahead and picked a suitable outfit for today. I ordered a silk nightie, stockings, and a matching robe, all black with lace, but even with that it’s going to take some work to conceal the marks.

Determined to make today good I take my time blowing out my hair, applying makeup to my face and all the way down to my breasts. At least the bruising on my neck has faded substantially. Even with color correcting, normal makeup is not enough to cover the dark purple and blue ones. I hesitate and then add a little on both wrists for good measure in case my robe slips up.

Once I’m done, I slide the nightie over my body, wincing a little when I lift my arms all the way up, then fasten to stockings to my garter belt, and slip the robe over my shoulders. It takes ten minutes of inspecting my outfit in the full-length mirror hung on the back of the door before the anxiety clawing through me subsides enough for me to leave the bathroom. I’m almost impressed by my own ability to cover the marks up now. A skill I am becoming better at every day.

I push those thoughts aside as I reach into the over sink cabinet and pull my pain killers from where they are hidden behind my hair mask jar. I debate with myself for a moment, looking down at the yellow bottle in my hand. I usually take one, just to help me get through the day. But it doesn’t completely take away the pain, it only dulls it enough for me to focus on other things. Tonight is a run though. When breathing alone hurts, I have no idea how I’m going to fair running around the entire campus without giving away how much pain I’m in.

I just need to survive. I know some of the brain fog, the fatigue, and lightheadedness are all from the medication, but the side effects have been easing the last few days. I toss two into my mouth and take a quick drink of water to swallow them down. That should be okay. I take one last look in the mirror, ignoring the dark circles under my eyes that my concealer barely covers and take a deep breath.

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