“We’ll do whatever we want,” he says. “Who are you? No one even knows you. A few posts online? Prove it came from us.”
He doesn’t think he has anything to worry about. He feels invincible. No one should ever feel that way—like they could commit a crime out in the open and get away with it. No one should ever feel that emboldened.
“Let me inside,” I say plainly.
“None of the girls will go against us,” he says. “You’ll see.”
He and the others may have scared the girls into silence before, but with us on their side, with proof, with administrative support, maybe that will change. There’s no way to know for certain, but I do know that I need to get off this roof through the window behind Jonah. And he doesn’t seem likely to budge.
I run for it. I catch Jonah off guard, dodging to the side at the same time I push him. His foot slips, and I use that distraction to quickly climb through the window. Just as I’m about to run for the bedroom door, Jonah reaches inside to grab the bottom of my dress. He knots his fist in the fabric, tearing the hem. I try to turn, but I get tangled as he drags me back toward the open window.
Flashbacks to my last fight with the Guardian suddenly flood in. The guilt I once had over his death is replaced with my need for survival. The Guardian killed Annalise that night. I’m not going to let Jonah kill me.
Before he can pull me back through, I grip the top of the window frame and slam it down on Jonah’s arm. There’s a loud scream behind the glass, and he releases my dress. I fall backward, landing hard on the wood floor.
Jonah is unable to get the window back open with one hand, his palm sliding along the glass. Instead, he slowly pulls his trapped arm through, crying out in pain. Once it’s free, he pushes up the frame roughly. I see the bruise already on his forearm just below his elbow, a scrape all the way to his wrist.
“Stay there!” he snarls at me.
I’m not about to be held prisoner in an upstairs bedroom. I rush out the door, darting toward the stairs. I need to get to Sydney.
“Wait!” Jonah yells from the room, followed by a loud rumble as he crashes to the bedroom floor.
Lyle suddenly appears at the top of the stairs, eyes wide when he sees me running toward him. He quickly assesses my torn dress, looking like he’s about to puke. He holds out his hand.
“Help me!” I say desperately, the music louder now that I’m near the stairs.
Lyle reaches to take my forearm, steadying me. Even though I don’t mean to, I start to cry. Jonah scared me, terrified me.
Jonah bursts from the room, hitting the opposite wall before straightening himself. He’s drunk. His eyes are red and glassy, perspiration dots his face. He sighs with relief when he sees I’m with Lyle.
“Bring her back over,” he tells him, waving down the hall.
I turn to Lyle, getting my foot on the first step down before he tightens his grip on my arm. I lift my eyes to his, but rather than finding protection or sympathy, I find fear. He darts his gaze from me to Jonah.
And then I realize that he’s not scared for me. He values Jonah’s inclusion over my safety. He would gladly feed me to the wolves in order to join their pack.
Lyle’s fingers pinch my skin as they tighten their grasp. I try to yank away, stunned by his sudden strength when he begins to pull me toward the bedroom. Understanding that he plans to hand me over to Jonah, I scream for Sydney. I’m not sure if she can hear me over the downstairs music.
With no other choice, I slap Lyle hard across the face, hoping to snap him out of this. He bares his teeth at me.
He’s not the nice guy. He’s just another monster with anger that he can’t contain, living in a community that makes him believe it’s acceptable.
Lyle drags me down the hall, and when I’m close enough, Jonah grabs me roughly by the elbow.
“Relax,” Jonah says, as if I’m overreacting. “We need to talk.” He pushes me inside the room.
The Nice Guy
He is my friend.
He’d never hurt me.
Why would he?
He’s such a nice guy.
He’d never hold me down.
Why would he?
He’s such a nice guy.
He’d never leave me crying on the floor.
Why would he?
He’s such a nice guy.
He’d never lie to my face about what he’d done.
Why would he?
He’s such a nice guy.
He’d never laugh with his friends as I walked past.
Why would he?
He’s such a nice guy.
He’d never say I wanted it.
Why would he?
He’s such a nice guy.
He would never call me a slut.
He would never have his friends do the same.
He would never threaten me to keep me quiet.
He would never make me want to die.
Why would he?
He’s such a nice guy.
26
Jonah laughs out loud as he closes the door, pushing me into the chair at the desk. He looks at Lyle. “Nice work,” he says to him. “Didn’t think you had it in you, big boy.”
Lyle smiles at Jonah expectantly, like he’s waiting for a pat on the head.
Jonah begins to pace and takes out his phone. I have no idea what he plans to say to me, do with me. I eye the door, readying myself to run for it the second I get the chance. Jonah dials, watching me as he brings the phone to his ear. He jumps as a voice comes on the line.
“Yeah,” he says. “I need to talk to my father. I don’t care who he’s having dinner with, this is important.”
“Who’s your father?” I ask, worried that I’ve found the investor’s son after all.
“My dad?” Jonah says. “He’s the best fucking lawyer in town. So if you’re thinking you’re going to get some big settlement, think again.”
“Does he work for the corporation?” I ask.
Jonah can’t hide his annoyance. “What? He doesn’t work for anyone. He has his own firm.” He turns to the side as someone comes back on the phone line. “Yes, I’m still here,” he says impatiently. “Can you hurry?”
Jonah continues to block my path to the door. His intimidation is meant to keep me in place. What will happen when his lawyer father arrives? If they truly feel there are no consequences to their behavior … what’s going to happen to me?
“Dad,” Jonah says suddenly into the phone. “We need your help. It’s a girl, and …” He pauses, wincing once. “Look, I’m at a friend’s house, and this girl made me say some shit. She recorded it.” He looks at me. “Yeah, she’s still here. Okay.” Jonah turns away from me, seeming uncomfortable. “An hour? How do you want me to stop her?” he asks quietly.
Jonah listens for a bit, nodding along, and then he murmurs goodbye and hangs up. He slips the phone back into his pocket.
“What’s your father going to do to me?” I ask. “What’s he going to do when he gets here?”
Jonah opens his mouth to answer when the door creaks open.
We all look over and my heart leaps. Sydney is standing there with the big guy, Demarcus, at her side.
And she’s holding a wooden bat.
I nearly start to cry. To see a girl again … It’s everything. It’s love and safety.