Make You Beg

He runs his hands through his hair, a clear sign he’s frustrated and trying to come up with a solution to a problem. “This is serious, Hen. The boys will try to destroy you.”

My eyes drop to my hands knotted in my lap. As afraid as I am, I’m also relieved. I didn’t want to run in the first place because I thought it made me look weak. And that’s one thing I am not. “No, they won’t,” I lie, trying to ease his worry.

“Don’t lie to yourself,” he snaps, turning to face me. “That bastard walked, meaning someone, somewhere high up in the rankings of Westbrook took a payout.”

I’ve had four months to think about what I saw and what was said in court. Too many things didn’t add up. I have gone over them in my head a million times, and I can’t understand what I saw and what the court argued. They had proof to back up their arguments. I just had words. And sometimes words mean absolutely fucking nothing.

And her body? Even if Monroe did move it, how did no one see it? It was the middle of a Saturday night. She couldn’t have just disappeared without a trace. But there was no search for her body. Brenda was adopted when she was fifteen. She came from nothing to a city full of riches. Her adopted family was what allowed Dax Monroe his freedom. They stated she had run away. That she was having trouble in our school. That she came from a troubled past, and they had a hard time controlling her. Which was true. She was in trouble a lot at school due to grades and fighting with others, but that wasn’t because she was a bad kid. That was bullying slid under the rug. She stood up for herself, and it fucked us both in the end.

So when the body went missing from where I saw Monroe kill her, they assumed I was drunk and imagined the entire thing. Like she was never even there. But I didn’t, did I? “Maybe I was wrong.”

“Henley!” He grabs my face, growling. “Don’t fucking pull that shit now! Don’t second-guess yourself. And do not allow them into your head!”

I was drunker than I had let on to the court. I was wasted. We were at Death Valley. That was the point. Kids were on drugs. I was on my fifth, maybe sixth mixed drink. And I had also had a few shots. I think. Thank God they never drug tested me. “I was drinking …”

“I don’t give a fuck if you were high. The girl had been killed. You saw her. Just because there was no body doesn’t mean you were wrong.”

Actually, that’s exactly what it means, according to the court. No body, no crime. But I’ll keep that to myself. Instead, I nod, and he lets go of my face.

“Do you have protection?” he asks.

“Oh.” I throw up my hands. “I don’t plan on having sex with anyone.” I’ve only ever slept with two guys—Monroe and Scout. It was our secret. And one hell of a mistake that I don’t plan on repeating. Plus, Janice, our housekeeper, took me to the doctor to get on the shot once I told her I had had sex. She was the only other woman I was ever around. Thankfully, she helped me out and played my mom.

He sighs heavily and digs into his pocket. “I don’t mean sex, Hen.” Pulling a knife out, he flips the blade open and holds it up. “I want you to keep this on you at all times.”

I stand and shake my head. “I can’t …”

“Yes, you can.” He stands and closes it, then places it in my hand. The cold steel feels foreign and heavy. “You keep it in your purse. Or in your backpack. And if anyone tries to hurt you, you use it.”

I roll my eyes. I can’t take this to school with me. “No one is going to hurt me.” No, they’ve turned their backs on me. I’m the outcast, so they will act like I don’t even exist. And just that thought makes my chest tighten. They may think I betrayed them, but I lost my best friends. They betrayed me when they didn’t believe me.

“I love you, Hen.” He pulls me in for a tight hug. “Be careful, and if you need anything, you call me. I’ll be here immediately.”

I sit and watch him leave with tears in my eyes. Not because of what’s to come but because of what has happened. How one night destroyed everything.

Five months ago

Death Valley, previously known as Spring Valley, was once an all-boys preparatory academy. They taught boys from kindergarten to twelfth grade. The students and staff lived here on campus twenty-four seven, three hundred and sixty-five days a year. It was known for its five hundred acres of manicured lawn, rolling hills, and Victorian-like structures. It looked like a city of castles in a fairy tale, but its story is anything but pretty. Now it resembles a haunted fortress from an old-time horror flick. You know the old black and white ones with the static across the screen. Just the sound makes your skin crawl and the hairs on the back of your neck stand.