“Wait,” I say, grabbing his hand, trying to stop this before it can go any further. “Listen, I won’t take back what I said, but I’ll—I’ll talk to the coach. I’ll ask him to cut your suspension in half. Okay? Then you’ll still get to play this year.”

“Half the fuckin’ season,” Jake says, shaking his head. “Nuh uh. You’re gonna take it back. You’re going to tell them you were confused, upset, you made a mistake. Tell them you were on your period and PMS got the best of you—I don’t give a fuck what you tell them, but you tell them something to make this stop.”

“I won’t let you bully me into lying,” I tell him, tilting my chin up. “You messed up. You wouldn’t stop, you wouldn’t apologize, and now you’re payin’ for your mistake. That’s how life works when you’re not an untouchable, Jake. That’s how mere mortals live.”

“That right?” he asks, yanking me forward by my shirt, then pushing me back against the wall so hard, it rattles my teeth and makes my stomach rock with fear.

The other two guys close in now, their eyes narrowed on me with contempt.

Bringing my gaze back to the asshole jock in front of me, I swallow down my fear. “Do you really want to make this worse, Jake? You’re supposed to stay away from me. This is definitely not stayin’ away from me.”

“You’ve already ruined my fuckin’ life, Zo. What’s gonna happen to me now?”

The sullen way he says it irritates me—like this really is my fault instead of his. “I have not ruined your life. They won’t let you play football—that’s it. A game.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t get it, do you? My whole future hinged on playin’ this year, Zoey. It’s not just a game to me, it’s a ticket out of here I can’t afford any other way.”

The honest vulnerability in his words plant hooks in me like nothing else he has said or done. Wanting to get out of this town is something I can relate to, and if I had a chance and lost it, I would be rocked with regret, too. Casting my gaze down, momentarily finding myself feeling bad for this jerk, I repeat my previous offer. “I told you, I’m willing to talk to Coach and try to get your suspension reduced so you can still play this year. If you walk away now, I will still do that.”

Shayne snickers. “Do you hear this little bitch? If you walk away now.”

“I’m bein’ more than fair,” I tell Jake, ignoring Shayne. “Your behavior was out of line. Someone had to show you that your actions have consequences. I did you a favor in the long run; you won’t live in the football bubble forever. Pull that shit after high school, and you’re goin’ to jail.”

Jake shakes his head at me, like he can’t figure out who the hell I think I am. “And I told you, that wasn’t good enough. I don’t want a reduced sentence, I want the accusation retracted. I want this bullshit off my record.”

“And I wanted you to stop touchin’ me. Looks like neither one of us will get everything we wanted out of this exchange. Why don’t we just stop escalating it and get out while we can with the least amount of damage,” I suggest.

“I think it’s time I show you the consequences of your actions, nerd. What do you think about that?” He watches me for a reaction as he presses his body firmly against mine, a move intended to remind me of my place.

Everything he does pisses me off. I give him an out, and he throws it away. He’s such a fucking jerk. I struggle to keep my attitude in check though, knowing no good can possibly come from making him feel small in front of his friends. People are more dangerous in groups with other like-minded individuals, and the two guys he brought with him are clearly on his side.

I turn my face so I don’t have to look at him and swallow. “Please just walk away, Jake. For both our sakes. Don’t make things worse.”

He ignores me, yanking my shirt up to my waist, exposing my pale midriff. I try to fight him, grabbing the shirt and shoving it back down. He grabs my wrists, shoves them over my head, and pins them against the brick pillar.

“No!” I cry, my heart somersaulting. My mind races for the next idea as his hands graze my midriff, but I can’t come up with anything. Things are happening too fast, and I’m getting scared.

He lifts my shirt again. I fight, but his arm locks around me. He’s too strong, and he gets the shirt off, flinging it behind me. I can scarcely breathe as he locks me against his chest with one hand and uses the other to unhook my bra clasp.

“Jake, please.” My voice is muffled against his chest. I despise him, but his chest is the only shelter I have to keep Carter and Shayne from seeing me, too. “Please, don’t do this.”

“Tell everyone you lied,” he orders.

“I didn’t!”

He yanks my bra off, pushing me away from his chest and locking his arm around my neck. Before I have time to process what he’s doing, he turns me around so I’m on display for his friends. “See anything you like, gentlemen?”

A burst of heat engulfs my whole body like I’ve just been dropped into a pit of flames. Shame burns through me as their interested eyes rake over my exposed body, as they smirk and make fun of me.

“They don’t look so fuckin’ special to me,” Shayne remarks.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t let those little things ruin my life, either,” Carter chimes in, chuckling.

Tears of rage and humiliation leak out of the corners of my eyes. I want to lash out. I want to punish Jake more, not less. He can fuck off if he thinks I’ll talk to the coach on his behalf after this.

“Stupid little hoity-toity bitch. Thinks she’s too good for us, doesn’t she?” Shayne mutters.

“Zoey thinks she’s too good for everyone,” Jake sneers.

No, just you, I want to say. Stupid fucking asshole. Not wanting to escalate things, I keep my words locked inside my mouth, but holding onto my cool is getting harder. It feels like someone put my nerve endings on a hot skillet, and it heats up a few more degrees with every passing second. My self-control is slipping. All I want to do is snap and rage, to fight and scream and rip them all apart.

Shayne walks closer, his hungry eyes on the breasts he supposedly finds so unimpressive. “Hold her arms, Parsons. I want a feel.”

Jake locks my arms, using his chest to push against my back, keeping me still. “Be my guest. I think I’m paying enough for all three of us. Carter, you want in on this?”

“No,” I cry out, shaking my head in angry denial. “No, you can’t do this. You can’t do this!”

Directly disproving my words, Shayne’s big hands close around my breasts and he squeezes them like he has a right to.

I’m spiraling down a sinkhole of shame, never wanting to come back out. I told myself for as long as I could they were only trying to scare me, but this is more than that. This is too far. I don’t want to be present for this.

“Take your hands off her, Sutton.”

My heart stalls. Carter’s deep voice pulls my head above water. Perhaps foolishly, I resist the pull of emotionally detaching from this moment to save myself, and instead grasp onto a flimsy thread of hope that he’ll finally put a stop to what’s happening.

He sees it, too. I don’t know how the glint in his eyes speaks to me, but it does. He knows he holds my hope in his hands, and he likes the feel of it.

“You don’t want Sutton’s hands on you, do you, princess?” he asks.

I shake my head no, but there’s something I don’t trust in his tone—something too light. I know there’s a catch, but I also know out of everyone in this room, Carter has the most power. Social power and actual power—he’s the alpha in this room, so he can hit the brakes on this train wreck, if he chooses to.

You don’t pick a fight with the alpha unless you want him for an opponent, and I sure don’t need another opponent. Tapping down the rage burning inside me, I offer up something softer, something that might appeal to any protective instinct he might possess.

“Thank you,” I say, softly.

He cocks his head curiously, but doesn’t speak.

I swallow, not confident in my next step. I don’t know Carter Mahoney on a personal level, so I don’t know how best to appeal to him. I don’t even know if I need to. He spoke up on his own, so maybe he doesn’t need me to pull him in the right direction. In any case, while Jake is still holding onto me from behind, Shayne is no longer groping me, so that’s an improvement.

Carter takes a slow step forward, his dark eyes traveling over every exposed inch of my body. Foreboding snakes through me and a chill runs down my spine, my body responding more like he’s the predator I should fear than any potential saving grace. I wish I could see his eyes, see the look in them—at least, until it happens. When our eyes lock, I see dark amusement, not sympathy, not protectiveness over some girl he doesn’t even know. The strings tethered to my hope start to snap. My stomach sinks, and my heart along with it.

“Oh, Zoey,” he begins, reaching out and touching my face. The feigned sympathy dripping from each syllable is so condescending, it makes my gut wrench, but I can’t look away from him. “If you’re looking for Prince Charming and I’m your best shot, you are in a truly dire situation.”

Since my stomach can’t drop any lower and hope can’t save me, my fight or flight instincts start to overtake everything else. My body works overtime, realizing we’re in danger and we need to get out, fast. I hate the way my chest heaves with each new breath, drawing more attention to my naked breasts. I hate the way my voice shakes, but I can’t control it. “So, you didn’t stop him to help me. He was just, what, in your way? Are you gonna grope me now, too?”

“I’m not really a tit man,” Carter murmurs casually, looking me over again like a potential purchase he thinks might be overpriced. “I wouldn’t say no to getting my dick sucked, though.”

My eyes widen as his gaze drifts back to mine to see my reaction. For a stunned moment, the whole room falls quiet.

“What? No!” I shake my head, new horror exploding inside me like a triggered landmine. Surely they won’t escalate things that far, right? I already reported Jake for groping me—do they really think I’ll keep my mouth shut after a group sexual assault?

Shayne’s dark eyebrows rise and he looks at Carter like he’s crazy. “You’re gonna stick your dick in her mouth? Man, you got me fucked up, ain’t no way I’d do that shit.” Smacking Jake on the arm and grinning like this is funny, he says, “Mahoney’s got balls of fuckin’ steel. Don’t know how much good they’ll do him after she bites his dick off, though.”

Carter meets my gaze and smiles at me—it’s a mean smile, though. His next words sound like a command from him to me, even though he’s supposedly addressing Shayne. “Nah, she’s not going to bite me. You’re gonna be a team player, aren’t you, Zoey?”

“No,” I say, astounded by his absolute fucking gall.

Carter shrugs like it doesn’t matter. “All right. I’ll stick it in her cunt instead, if she can’t play nice.”

His words are bad enough, but the accompanying glint in his eyes wreaks havoc on my nerves. I can’t believe he would actually do it, but at the same time, I can’t say with any confidence I’m sure he’s bluffing. I think I might throw up.

“Please…” I hate this. I can’t believe they’re making me beg—beg not to be abused any more than I already have been. It’s almost laughable that I looked at Carter hoping he would temper Jake’s belligerence, and instead he’s the one making the torment worse.

“Now, hang on. If anyone gets her pussy, it’s gonna be me,” Jake objects. “I’m the one payin’ for her bullshit.”

“We can all have fun with her,” Carter assures him, his gaze raking over me again. “She has three holes, doesn’t she? Plenty to go around.”

Fear has such a tight grip on me, I think I might pass out. The possibility sends a new strain of terror shooting down my spine. If I lose consciousness, they can do anything they want to me, and I won’t even know. “Please don’t do this,” I say, not even sure who I’m appealing to anymore. “Please just walk away. I won’t tell anyone this happened if you walk away now, I swear to God.”

“Have you taken a dick before, Zoey the ho? What am I sayin’? Of course you have,” Shayne says. “How many?”

“I haven’t,” I say, heart leaping. It’s embarrassing to share such personal information with these assholes, but maybe they’ll have at least a remnant of common decency and realize they don’t want to take it this far. “I’m a virgin.”

Instead of shaming them into releasing me, Carter’s dark eyes light up with interest. I get the immediate sense that sharing that information with him was a massive misstep. “Oh, even fucking better,” Carter drawls. “I’m going first.”

Jake’s arm tightens around me and he takes a subtle step back, bringing me with him. I think he’s realizing this is supposed to be his show, but Carter is strolling casually toward center stage. “Now, hang the fuck on. I said you two greedy bastards could cop a feel, not fuck her.”

I cannot believe I’m in the astounding position of hoping and praying they only grope my naked breasts.

Carter shakes his head, stepping a little closer and stroking my breast anyway, despite apparently not being a “tit man.” His eyes lock onto my anxious face as he tweaks my nipple. “I want the little virgin. I say we fuck her right here, right now. We show her who she fucked with and make her our little whore.”

“No,” I cry, tears burning behind my eyes. “Please. Please don’t hurt me.”

My words are a plea for whoever will listen, and for a heart-stopping moment, I think it might be Jake. He pulls me closer almost protectively, like Carter is pushing too hard. I’m not sure I can envision Jake standing up to Carter, but this is Jake’s thing. Jake has the ability to stop it, too. His resistance is subtle, just a whisper right now, but if I can grow it, make it stronger, maybe I can stop this.

My opponent must notice too, though. Before I can try to reach Jake, Carter pounces on his weaknesses.

“She’s a lot nicer when you’re mean to her, you notice that, Jake? You merely touch her and she runs and tattles on you. I toy with her, and she manages a ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ for me. Makes you wonder what the difference is, doesn’t it?”

“I do notice that,” Jake grumbles, wrapping his stupid mouth around Carter’s bait. “She must like bein’ toyed with like a little fuckin’ slut.”

His words make feel cold all over. Carter is appealing to the worst parts of Jake, subtly trying to make him angry at me again, since the possibility of sharing me with Carter suddenly incited a flash of protectiveness. He knows Jake has it in him to be petty and jealous, and now he’s manipulating him with it so Jake will do his bidding.

That could work on Jake. I feel like I’m going to vomit. I almost hope I do. Surely they won’t want to touch me anymore if I throw up all over myself.

Since the bile remains lodged stubbornly in my throat, I have to resort to other means of saving my own ass. “Please don’t let him do this, Jake,” I add, subtly shifting the blame off him and onto Carter, giving him the chance to play Prince Charming, since Carter turned down the role. Keeping my tone soft, I tell him, “I’ll ask Coach to let you play. I’ll tell him I made a mistake. I’ll tell him you shouldn’t be punished. That I don’t want you to be punished.”

Everything stops for a moment. Carter glances at Jake behind me, and Shayne looks up, too. Carter has a nice hold on the worst parts of Jake, and now here I am, interrupting to appeal to his better side.

“She’s lying,” Carter states, immovably. Like he has an exclusive window into my mind, and he alone has this insight. “She thinks she can play you for a fool, Jake. She thinks you like her so much, you’ll believe all her bullshit. Think about her actions, not her words. When you touched her before, it was because you liked her, you were attracted to her. You wanted her. Your motives were pure, Jake, and she hung you out to dry anyway.”

“Stop it,” I say, appalled at the way Carter is warping the events to make me the bad guy.

Ignoring me, Carter continues his appeal, gesturing around the room. “But this? We had bad intentions. We wanted to scare her, and do you really think someone like Zoey is going to back down after that? Do you really think she felt so strongly that you needed to be punished for touching her, but now, after this, she doesn’t want you to be punished?” Carter shakes his head, almost sympathetically. “She’s playing you, man. Manipulating you. Don’t let her get away with that.”

“He is the one manipulating you, not me,” I snap, outraged. I can’t see Jake’s face and he isn’t saying anything, so I can’t tell if Carter’s bullshit is working.

Carter cocks a skeptical eyebrow. “What reason could I possibly have for manipulating my friend?” He asks me the question, but doesn’t wait for an answer. “You think I’m that desperate for a blow job, Ellis? I could leave this room now and have three girls fighting each other for the honor in under five minutes.” Cutting a disbelieving look at Jake, he takes yet another run at his insecurities. “Man, she really is full of herself, isn’t she?”

That’s exactly the right note to hit. My rejection clearly still stings Jake, so more than anything Carter has said before, that hits home.

“Yeah, she is,” Jake murmurs.

“I’m not,” I declare, trying to maintain my slippery grasp on Jake’s good will. “I’m sorry if I come off that way, I really don’t mean to. My offer is real, Jake. I’m not lying.”

Carter’s commentary continues. “Of course not. Zoey would never lie—except when she’s telling the whole town you sexually harassed her, of course.”

That Carter can say that with a straight face amid the events currently unfolding blows my mind, but that Jake can make himself believe it is even worse. Reality has no value here, because the facts don’t cast Jake in a flattering light.

Gritting my teeth, I pray for the strength to keep my cool. Anger will turn Jake off. Everything I do has to convince him to choose my side over Carter’s, and Carter is an unexpectedly diabolical opponent.

“Tell me why he’s wrong, Zo,” Jake says, running the back of his hand along my jaw in a gesture that whispers of tenderness he still has for me. “Tell me why you don’t want me to be punished anymore.”

His mind is so easily bent, I could puke. Carter may be the literal worst, but at least he’s consistently terrible. Jake is like a loose cannon, shooting off destruction in whichever direction anyone points him.

Jake is weak. I doubt he’ll ever be strong because he is clearly too fragile to be wrong, too insecure to learn from his mistakes instead of blaming them on other people. I hate him so much, I want to set him on fire.

But I also don’t want to be raped. My problem is an astounding one: I think what Jake wants me to say is that I like him, and I don’t. I tell myself to force that lie past my lips, to tell this stupid asshole that I don’t want to get him in trouble because I have discovered a secret soft spot for him, because the thought of being the thing that tanks his future is too much. Because, hell, I want to sit in the bleachers and cheer him on every Friday night, and then give him a kiss after his big win.

Yuck.

I’m not that girl, I don’t want to be that girl, and it’s one of the reasons I rejected him in the first place. We are not right for one another. We have absolutely nothing in common—he only likes my physical appearance, and he’s mistaken in thinking that’s enough.

Regardless of my genuine disinterest in him, I know I could probably outsmart Jake Parsons and gain his protection. The problem is, it would only be a temporary fix to a long-term problem. If I lead Jake on now, he’ll pursue it later, and I’ll be right back where I started—only this time, I’ll have incited his attention.

Settling on something I can stomach, I tell him, “Because I just want all this to be over. I don’t want to fight with you. I just… I just want it over. For you and for me. Let’s put an end to the fightin’ and move on.”

“Move on to what?”

“To… gettin’ along? Not bein’ at war? You’ll get to play again, Jake. That’s what matters to you, right?”

None of that is what he wants to hear, but it’s something. It’s all I have to offer him.

I can’t see Jake so I look at Carter, hoping to read into his reaction, but Carter isn’t looking at Jake—he’s watching me. His brown eyes are narrowed in consideration and he looks like he’s trying to work something out.

In the silence of his disappointment, Jake apparently gets stuck inside his own head, twisted up in a web of delusions and imagined slights, because his next words are faintly hostile. “All right. Fine. You’ll tell everyone what a lyin’ little whore you are, and I’ll get my life back. I want an apology, too. I think I deserve an apology for all the shit you’ve put me through.”

He’s getting so tangled up in his own warped perspective, I’m not entirely sure he knows how unreasonable he’s being. “You and I both know I didn’t lie, Jake,” I murmur. “I’ll talk to Coach and bail you out anyway. Just accept your win and let it go.”

“I don’t win until you tell everyone you lied, Zoey, not just Coach. Some girls look at me like I’m a fuckin’ creep now.”

“Smart girls,” I mutter, unable to help myself.

He shifts his hold on me, pinning my arm under his and reaching across my chest so he can play with my nipples the way Carter was a minute ago. My skin crawls and I twist, trying to get away from him, but I can’t.

“Stop touching me,” I demand, my chest heaving with the strain of not exploding.

Instead, he rolls my nipple between his thumb and index finger. “Nah. I’m a creep, remember?”

“I want a taste,” Shayne says, seeing his opening to get back in on the action. “Hold onto her good, Parsons.”

“No,” I snap, before he can come closer. “My offer only stands if this shit stops right now. If it goes any further, I rescind my offer. No matter what you fucking do to me, I will never take back what I said. I will never appeal to anyone on your behalf. Never.”

Shayne looks at Jake, but Carter jumps back in now, too.

“You know what, Jake?” Carter says, meeting my gaze instead of Jake’s. His voice carries the unmistakable tone of authority, as if he has some deeper understanding of the situation than he does. “I still think she’s lying. Zoey doesn’t want you, but she doesn’t want you to have anyone else, either, so she won’t clear your name.”

“That’s legitimately insane,” I tell Carter.

Again, he ignores me. “I think if you let her walk out of this room today without enforcing any consequences, she’ll come after you even harder. I think if you let her off the hook, it will embolden her to keep doing all the shit she’s been doing to you.”

I gape at Carter, absolutely astounded. He held my gaze shamelessly while he sold every line of that bullshit, and the twisted hilarity of it all is, he’s using my logic to convince Jake to hurt me. I wanted Jake to face consequences so he would think twice before mistreating the next girl, and here Carter is painting me as the bad guy and feeding Jake’s delusion.

“You just wanna use her pussy,” Shayne says to Carter, amused.

“He might be right, though,” Jake murmurs, somehow swayed by Carter’s baseless bullshit. “I certainly didn’t think she’d run and tell on me last time, and she fuckin’ did. Why should I trust her now?”

“I don’t want to be raped,” I cry, my voice shaking with anger. It’s infuriating enough to feel, but that they’re making me say it to them is almost unbearable. “I’m not folding because I care about you; I’m folding because I don’t want to endure any more of this bullshit. Believe me, I have a healthy sense of self-preservation. What would lying get me? Out of this moment, sure, but tomorrow? The next day? Next week? Next month? You win, okay? Just get your hands off me and give me back my clothes.”

I don’t think he hears anything past my declaration of indifference—I feel it in the way his body stiffens against my back. I didn’t mean to say it, it just slipped out. It’s one thing not to say I like him; it’s another thing entirely to state in front of his friends that I don’t.

He lets go, all right—but not of his anger and resentment, not of his intense case of Nice Guy Syndrome. He lets go of me and pushes me right into Carter’s waiting arms.

“Take her,” Jake says, his tone dead. “Do whatever you want with her.”