Touched By The Devil (Boys of Preston Prep 3)

“Sure.”

She gives me a hard look. “I mea

n for real. No one can ever know.”

I point out, “I just blubbered on the bed like a raving lunatic over Sebastian Wilcox. If you won’t tell anyone about that, I won’t tell anyone your secret.”

She sinks back onto her bed, restless fingers twisting at her comforter. “Remember when I was having a hard week and Emory and Aubrey came around? And then Sebastian threatened those guys in your class?”

I nod, well aware of what she’s talking about. I never got the full story, but it was pretty clear Georgia had been involved in some kind of sex tape or something when she was younger. The pieces add up and I bolt upright, gawking at her. “Oh my god, that video was of you and…fuck. Holy shit!”

She looks down at her fidgeting hands. “Yeah, it’s me and Heston. Which, for the record, was technically consensual. He was older and popular, and… well, you’ve seen the way he looks. He was really nice at first, actually.” A ghost of a smile touches her lips, but it’s not a happy one. “So it’s not like I wasn’t into it. But when he got me back to his room, I didn’t expect it to be so…” she swallows, looking a little green, “…so aggressive. I’d never done it that way before and it hurt. There were a few times I couldn’t even breathe.”

Her cheeks and nose redden, and when she looks up from her hands, a fat tear runs down her cheek. “The sex I could handle. I’d asked for it, and I liked him. You know how it is, right? I just wanted him to like me.” She swats the tear away, eyes sparking in anger. “But that video. Oh my god, it fucked me up so bad. He shared it around like it was nothing. Like it was all just a big joke. It didn’t matter that people couldn’t tell it was us, because I figured it was just a matter of time before he told someone, and then everyone would know. It’s almost been two years, and he still has that over me.”

She sniffs and rubs her nose. “I took a semester off, you know. I told everyone I went on a study abroad, but really I was being treated for depression.”

“Jesus, G,” I breathe, my problems with Sebastian suddenly seeming so minor and petty. “I had no idea.”

“I’m better now,” she says, nodding, some of that fire returning to her eyes. “I’ve got a lot of really good friends who have my back—friends who know the truth and don’t judge me for it.” She wipes away the rest of her tears, gathering herself up. “I just didn’t know he was doing it to other girls. I don’t like Sydney very much, but I don’t wish that on anyone.”

“Do you think that has something to do with Bass’s being such a dick today? I thought it was just about us having sex, but maybe…” It wouldn’t be the first temper tantrum I’ve seen him have about his brother. “Maybe I’m wrong.”

Georgia sighs. “I think it’s worth talking to him tomorrow. Maybe he just freaked out. You know Bass is impulsive and a little rabid, but he isn’t mean. It sounds like it was just a really stressful day for you both.” I nod, unable to argue with that.

Georgia and I sit across from one another, quiet and solemn, because what else can a victim of a Wilcox brother do?

Almost a day passes before I go looking for Bass.

It seems like he vanished after leaving me in the Nerd’s parking lot that cold afternoon. I spent all of Dr. Ross’s class the next morning staring at the door, waiting for him to waltz in with some weak excuse and charming apology. But it never comes. It’s only later at lunch that I find out Georgia’s intel—in the form of Carlton—says he never went back to his dorm room. Another source—in the form of Ben—confirms that he’d gone back home. Naturally.

He’d already skipped one day of school to go with me to the Briar Cliffs. What’s the harm in taking another?

I’m impatient the whole day, annoying my neighbors with the way I keep tapping my pencil. The tension creates a bitch of a headache, stabbing like an icepick right into my temples. I wince through Econ period, but beg off my AP Lit class to go lay in the nurse’s office for an hour, lights turned off, knees tucked to my chest against the ache. Probably a lingering gift from Doug’s slap the day before. He got good at making shit hurt without leaving visible marks a long, long time ago.

I’m drowsy when the final bell finally rings, shuffling out of the nurse’s office to meet Georgia at her locker.

As soon as I do, she gets a text. “It’s Vandy,” she informs me, thumb rolling over the screen. “She said she just saw Sebastian head up to his room.”

My stomach drops like lead, but at the same time, I’m also weirdly excited. Despite our fight, all day I’ve found myself reaching for a hand that isn’t there, or expecting to see him across the quad, walking toward me.

I’m pissed at him.

I miss him.

It’s a lot of complex stuff to reconcile, and as I’m using the code to get into Cresswell, heading to the fourth floor, I’m wondering which one will win out.

Half the doors are open, revealing messy boys’ dorm rooms, along with the commingled stench of sweat and bad body spray. Sebastian’s door sits at the end of the Senior hall like a shiny, precious, ominous thing. I approach it with a flare of nerves, my stomach flipping, feeling queasy and unsure. I’ve never in my life gone after a guy like this—wanted a guy like this—fuck, needed a guy like this. I barely hear my own knuckles rap on the door, the sound drowned out by my pulse thundering in my ears.

When the door swings open, there’s no one in the entry.

I shuffle my feet for a moment, waiting, but ultimately peer my head inside, searching.

Sebastian’s on the couch, bent at the waist, tying a shoe. He’s dressed in athletic gear, a large gym bag and equipment waiting on the coffee table. When he glances up, I wince at the color of his eye, a mottled rainbow of purple, red, and yellow.

“Uh, hey,” I try. “Can I come in?”

His only response is a grunt of disinterest.