A Harmless Little Game (Harmless #1)(43)

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Tormenting me.”

He arches one eyebrow. “I’m protecting you.”

“You’re making my life so much harder.”

“Why?”

The tears start in the base of my throat, a tightening I know will turn into a full-blown crying jag if I don’t do something. One giant scoop of ice cream later, and at least my mouth is shocked by the cold.

“Need a shovel?” he jokes. I know he’s trying to navigate the landmine of this mess. But the comment just makes me swallow and set the spoon aside.

“Take care of the bill for me. I’m leaving.” I stand and coldly walk away. Security teams often do handle these details, though I’ve never acted like this before. Drew’s ease and familiarity with me drives me insane.

And then there was that kiss.

A kiss I want more of.

By the time he catches up to me, I’m walking along a side street where the water laps at the shore. Mom loves this part of our sleepy little exclusive town, where it’s a crime to be homeless but an even bigger crime to be out of fashion. I’m sure crying and blubbering with hot fudge stains on your white pants is worse than either of those.

Drew stays ten feet behind me.

I ache for him. I ache for answers—real answers—to questions I’m pretty sure I can’t ask. And if I ask them, I won’t get a straight answer anyway, so why bother? Has it really only been two days since I’ve been home? How can two days be so jam-packed full of so much horror?

“Mom just told me the rape counselor at the emergency room sold a bunch of lies to a tabloid for six figures,” I say, staring at the water. It rises up and catches the sunlight, then glimmers off the hull of a boat docked to the little marina beside the set of shops.

“I know.”

“You know everything, don’t you?”

“No. I don’t. I wish I did.”

“I don’t! I wish I didn’t know any of this. My God, Drew! All these people did this to me.” I make a barky laugh, the sound so insane even I know I’m frothing into hysteria. “No one knows who the guys in that video are—except they do. The authorities do. The ones who could bring them to justice.”

“Lindsay—”

“My best friends lied to the press, they lied so bad that my parents acted on it. A rape counselor lied, too. My Mom and Dad know I didn’t ask for the gang rape, and yet they’re choosing to act like they think the lies are true. They’re in damage control mode. Do you have any idea how hard it is to know that they know I was a victim but they’re acting like I asked for it?”

Pain makes Drew’s face change. He takes a step closer. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I’ll leave you alone if that’s really what you want. What you need. But I can fill in some of your gaps if it helps you to make sense of everything.”

He’s a foot away from me, his heat drawing me in. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

And then I hear it.

Voices.

The high-pitched chatter of a gaggle of young women in a pack.

My eyes fly open because I know those voices.

It’s Tara, Jenna and Mandy.





Chapter 31





Drew’s nostrils flare and his speckled-brown eyes tighten like a hawk’s. My old “friends” don’t see us at first, teetering down the cobblestoned walkway on the newest high-heel fashion, their dresses oh, so perfect. They’re lunching, an activity we all looked forward to after graduating college. When you’re raised in luxury and power, this is what you’re taught.

This is what you emulate.

They halt as Tara realizes we’re here. Her face goes from her typical cool, fake-friendly L.A. gaze to something more sinister and manipulative. When she thinks no one important is watching, she goes full Queen Bee.

And thinks she can get away with it.

“Lindsay! OMIGOD! Look at you!” Her eyes comb over me with the slow, treacherous look of someone seeking an error. She finds it.

Everywhere.

“You look great!” She comes in for a kiss. Mandy and Jenna stand like Barbie zombies, unsure what to do. Whatever Tara’s plan here is, they’re not in on it. Mandy gives Drew a contemptuous look.

I sidestep Tara and edge over to the water. Her heel catches between two cobblestones and she wobbles. As she starts to go down she glares at Drew, as if he’s supposed to jump in and help her.

He doesn’t. He stands there, hands on hips, face a blank sheet of paper, sunglasses on.

He is The Man.

“What, um, what’s up, Lindsay?” Jenna asks. Her voice gains more cattiness as the words come out. Jenna is the consummate follower. She does whatever Mandy and Tara tell her to do.

“Oh,” I say back, casual as can be, head held high. I cut my gaze to Tara, who magically caught herself before falling, juggling an armload of shopping bags. “You know. The same old same old. Nothing new.”

Jenna titters. Tara shoots her an evil glare that shuts her up.

A harmless little plan forms in my mind. I walk closer to Tara, my steps careful, leading her toward the water as casually as I can. I look around the area without bringing attention to myself. Seconds pass before I see what I’m searching for. Aha. There they are. Security cameras on the walls of the mall, all facing the water. And no buildings on the other side past the moored sailboats in this tiny marina.