Dick: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance

Chapter 17

Jessica

“I don’t know what we’re going to do, Becky.”

The two of us sat in our dorm room, each occupying our respective beds. Both of us had at this point resigned ourselves to skipping class that day, especially after the disastrous encounter that Richard and I had had with Greg only a few days before. And while my stepbrother had football practice to keep him occupied all I had was time to myself to stew and think on how utterly screwed the two of us were.

“Can’t you talk to the cops?” she asked, sitting cross legged across from me. “Michael’s blackmailing you, and last time I checked, that was a crime.”

“All they’d have is our word,” I sighed, “and besides, Greg said that almost half the campus police force were brothers at AEO. Even if we did report it, word would just get back to Michael and they’d cover everything up. I wouldn’t even put it past him to set us up for something we didn’t even do just for revenge.”

“Isn’t that what the pictures are supposed to be for?” she asked.

“No, I think he wants to hold those over our heads, make us squirm until he needs something or just wants to royally fuck with us.”

Becky shook her head, almost as distressed about the situation as I was. It was bad enough what Michael had done to her already, now he was ruining the lives of others as well. It had been almost a week since Becky had gone to class, which, despite everything, had still allowed her to do her coursework from the comfort of her bed, safe from the stares and rumors of the other students—and there were definitely rumors flying when it came to the events of that night at the party, spread in no small part by the brothers of AEO.

“I still can’t believe that Greg would have just run like that,” Becky said, leaning back on her elbows. “I mean, he’s not the bravest guy on campus, but I’d think that maybe he’d try to fix his mistakes.”

“Sometimes we really don’t know people as well as we thought that we did,” I said. “Even people you might think are nice and sweet can be cruel on the inside.”

“You’re starting to sound like me now,” she remarked, a sad frown on her lips. “I’m sorry about all of this, Jessica.”

I wish sorry could fix it, I lamented, running my fingers in my hair.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve all of this,” I said, my gaze drawn up toward the slowly revolving ceiling fan. “Like, did I insult a gypsy? What does a person have to do to make them deserve people like Michael inflicted on them?”

“I wish it were that simple,” she sighed. “Sometimes I almost wish that it had been a punishment for something I’d done—at least then it would seem like there was a reason. But that’s just it, there isn’t a reason that it happened to us. There was no grand design that put all of this into place. Sometimes bad things just happen, and whether we deserve it or not we have to deal with them.”

I looked into Becky’s eyes, at the tears welling up in them. I felt horrible spilling my problems out onto her, especially after the awful experience she’d been through at the hands of Michael. But in a way, what she’d been through at the hands of my own tormentor somehow made her the perfect person who could understand what being the target of someone so cruel was like.

I got up from my bed and crawled over onto Becky’s, wrapping her up in my arms in a tight, warm hug as I laid my head on her shoulder. She was my closest and dearest friend, the person who I could rely for anything. But even in my own time of crisis, I knew I needed to be there for her too, even if it was just for a simple hug.

A soft knock broke me and Becky from our embrace, both of our heads turning in curiosity at who would be here in the middle of the day, right when classes were going on all across campus. I glanced at Becky, meeting her eyes nervously as I got up and crossed over to the door and peered through the peephole.

Standing on the other side, to my shock, was probably the last person I’d have ever expected to see ever again. Greg loitered nervously just outside of our dorm room, his hands in his pockets as he rocked back and forward on the balls of his feet.

“It’s Greg,” I whispered, turning my head back to look at Becky, my eyes raised.

“What? What the hell is he doing here?” she asked standing up and coming to the door to look through the door as well.

“I don’t know… should we let him in?” I asked.

“I’m not sure,” Becky said, looking once again through the hole.

“We should at least find out what he wants,” I said. “We don’t have to let him in, but I’ll talk to him and if you want you can stay hidden behind the door.”

“Okay,” she said, nodding and moving to the side to keep the door between herself and Greg as I undid the lock.

Greg looked like crap, his hair was a mess and underneath his eyes were dark bags that could only have come from a desperate lack of sleep. His clothes were rumpled and he honestly smelled like he’d failed to take care of himself since the last time I’d seen him.

“What do you want?” I asked, the door opened just enough for Greg to see my face.

“I need to talk to you… and to Becky.”

“And what if neither of us want to talk to you? You’re not exactly high on our list of people right now, Greg.” I glared at him, watching his sad, simpering expression.

“It’s about Michael—about what he did… and had me do.”

I stared at him for a moment, unsure whether I even wanted to hear another word from his mouth. The only thing that kept me from slamming the door in his face was Becky’s hand on my shoulder, encouraging me to hear him out.

“All right,” I said. “What did you wa

nt to say?”

“Could I come inside?” he asked, glancing down the hallway in either direction. “It’s not exactly something I want overheard.”

Another squeeze from Becky’s hand told me that she was okay, and wanted to hear what he had to say. I reluctantly nodded and moved aside, opening the door wider to allow Greg to enter. Once he was inside I shut the door and locked it with both the bolt and the chain lock.

Greg stood awkwardly in the center of the room, his eyes downcast and his shoulder hunched. He looked absolutely pathetic, like a scolded puppy dog that had been left out in the rain all night.

“What did you have to tell us?” I asked, keeping myself between him and Becky. “I want to make this quick. Like I said, you’re not my favorite person right now.”

“I don’t really blame you,” he began, glancing up at the two of us before continuing his vigil on the floor. “I did something stupid for cash, and instead I got people in a really bad situation.”

“A bad ‘situation’?” Becky asked incredulously, finally speaking up. “Is that what you’re calling what happened?”

“No! I didn’t mean—”

“Do you even understand what he did to me?” she asked, her voice suddenly rising to levels I’d never heard it go, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Of course you don’t, because I can hardly even remember half of it! All I remember was waking up in the dirt with my panties around my ankles!”

“Becky, I—” he stammered, but she couldn’t stop herself, even his pleas for understanding were rolled over by things she’d been holding inside since that night.

“He took me!” Becky cried. “He did awful things to me. He drugged me! And after all of that, after everything he did, when you had the chance to do something when Richard and Jessica found you, you ran!”

“I’m sorry!” he cried, tears spilling from his eyes. “I was afraid! Afraid of what might happen if I stood up to him and it failed. I didn’t know what he’d do if I helped them—if he’d hurt you again, or hurt me… I didn’t know what else to do!”