The Bet: A Bully Romance(64)

A throat clears behind us making me turn to face the noise, it’s then that I notice the detective is now standing, and that Seb has entered the room.

“We have all the information we need now. I just have one question, Miss Peterson.” The detective’s gaze softens as soon as he sees my face.

“Yes?” I croak, blinking through the tears.

“When was the last time you’ve seen or heard from Cole?”

“That day he cornered me after class. I can look at my call schedule and tell you the exact date, but I can’t remember it off the top of my head.”

“That would be great, Miss Peterson. Just email me the information as soon as you can and thank you again. I’m sorry to have had to put you through this again.” He gives me a sympathetic smile and hands me a card. I take it, holding it in my clammy hand.

“While we are handing out cards, here is mine.” Susan hands me a card as well. “If you need to talk again, or simply vent, that’s my office number on the top and my cell on the bottom. You can call me any time, day or night.”

If you would have asked me two hours ago if I would ever call her, my answer would have been hell no, but now that I’ve actually talked to her, I do consider it. I will definitely keep her card close to me.

“Thank you,” I tell both of them and watch as Seb sees them out. As soon as I hear the front door close, I sag onto the couch. Talking about that night lifted a weight off my chest, but it also made me confirm that it happened and that was almost more terrifying than remembering it.

Sebastian walks back into the room, a sad look on his face. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I did hear a bunch of the stuff you said, mostly because you were yelling, which I’m glad you did. You have no fucking idea how glad I am to see you be angry and yelling.”

I give him a sad smile. “I owe you Seb. I owe you lots.”

He grins, walking over to where I’m lying on the couch. Without warning, he’s pulling me to his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around me.

“Never do that to me again, never. I understand why you did it, that you were hurting, but I was afraid, Jules, so damn afraid.”

Hurting Sebastian was never my intention, but I can see now that I had.

“I’m sorry,” I admit, feeling his arms tighten around me.

“Don’t be. The only person that needs to be sorry is that fucker for hurting you, and I swear, Jules…the police better find him before I do, because if I find him first, he’s a dead man. He is never going to pull this shit again.”

His words reassure me further that I made the right choice when it came to telling them what I knew. Not only did it clear Remmy’s name but also point the police in the right direction to find the real criminal. I couldn’t stand by and let them accuse Remington of doing something I know in my heart he wouldn’t do.

“What do you think happens now?” I ask, feeling a coldness sweep through me as he releases me.

His eyes twinkle with darkness. “Now we find the bastard.”

Now that everything is on the table, I need to come to terms with what happened. First, I need to digest what Cole did to me. Then I need to work through what Remmy’s done and either I find a way to forgive him or find a way to move on with my life.

Neither way will be easy, but then again, life never is.





Chapter Twenty-Three




Remington





I almost slam the door in Detective Garcia’s face when I see him standing on the other side of it. The only thing that stops me from doing so is that he’s actually showing some emotion on his face today. His dark eyes hold an apology, and I grasp onto that look.

“You better be here to apologize or tell me that there has been a change in the case.” My fingers bite into the wooden door frame as I speak.

“Do you mind if I come in, Mr. Miller?”

Do I mind…?

“By all means, come in,” I mutter and take a step back so that he can come in. He walks through the door and into the foyer and I slam the door closed behind him. I stroll past him and into the living room. He looks around the room, at the kitchen that opens up into the living room. The place is pretty clean for a frat house, if I do say so myself.

“Do you want to sit down?”

“Sure, thank you.” He takes a seat on the couch and I take one on the loveseat waiting for him to spill. “First of all, even though it turns out that you didn’t rape Layla Hart nor took the pictures of Miss Peterson, I will not apologize to you. For one, you did take the recording and showed it to your friends, which may not be illegal in this state, but is still an asshole thing to do. Furthermore, I was just doing my job and all evidence did point to you, so that is why I will not apologize.”

“Fair enough.” He does have a point, even if I don’t like it. “So why are you here then?”

“Why didn’t you tell us about what really happened that night of the party?”

“Jules asked me not to tell anyone. I knew if I told you, you would go question her and she didn’t want to talk about it.”

Garcia gives me a somber nod. “Jules told us everything herself. We let her know that someone else accused you of rape and she told us that you would never do that. Then she told us about Cole and the threat he made. We also questioned Miss Hart again, and she admitted that it wasn’t you who raped her, but Cole. He threatened her and convinced her to place the blame on you.”