“I tried, Gracie. But I just fucking can’t.”
He’d tried? What did that even mean? Confusion spiked through my brain but I held eye contact, as hard as it was to do that, and yanked free of his grasp. “My name’s not Gracie.” The cold, flat finality that resonated in my voice surprised me. From the ashen look on Brax’s face, it’d surprised him even more.
“Olivia, are you okay here?”
Noah Hicks’ voice sounded behind me, and he eased his body in front of mine, mostly blocking Brax from my view. “Walk away, man. You don’t need to make things worse.” Noah’s shoulders stiffened as he addressed Brax.
Brax said nothing, pushed his fingertips into his eye sockets, then locked his fingers behind his neck. “Fuck!” he swore under his breath.
Then he charged Noah and the two went down fighting. Noah was athletic, but no match for Brax. Noah grunted as Brax’s knuckles connected to his jaw. “Brax, stop it!” I yelled. “Stop!”
Brax was like a rabid dog, taking his frustrations out on Noah fist over fist. Cory’s big frame pushed forward and he pulled Brax off. “Whoa, man, take it easy, take it easy.”
Noah rolled up from the ground and took my hand. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll get you out of here.”
“You won’t fucking take her anywhere!” Brax fought to break Cory’s hold—and almost did. Although Cory was a big guy, the strain was evident in his face as he struggled to contain Brax. Finally, he did, pinning his arms behind him and holding him tightly against him in a backwards bear hug. “I can’t hold him forever,” Cory said to Noah. He cocked his head. “Get outta here.”
I looked once more at Brax’s face. His eyes. Silently, they pleaded with me. Begged me for something, some unknown thing. Noah draped his arm over my shoulder, and I turned away.
“Gracie, wait. Please, just listen to me. Hear me out. Let me the fuck go, man! Gracie!”
I didn’t look back as Noah guided me to his Mustang parked along the walkway. He opened the passenger side door and I climbed in. Just as he slammed the door shut, I heard Brax’s tortured cry as he called my name, cutting through the chilled night air, and it struck me in the gut. Something about all of this felt so damn wrong. All of it. None of it. Everything. I tried not to look, tried not to torment myself by seeking Brax out, but I couldn’t help it. He was there, still held captive by his best friend.
Behind Brax and Cory stood Kelsy Evans, his arm draped over some girl dressed as a seductive nurse. Even under the shade of darkness, I saw his stupid grin of victory.
I closed my eyes.
As Noah pulled away, I glanced at his face. With a busted lip and a swollen eye, he stared straight ahead and maneuvered his car away from the Sigma house.
“Thanks,” I offered. “I’m … sorry for all the drama. I’m sorry you were hurt. This—it’s not who I am, Noah. It seems to follow me.”
He looked at me, a fast glance, then returned his stare to the road. “It’s okay. And I know this isn’t you, Olivia.” He reached over and patted my knee, then returned his hand to the wheel. His hair was messy from the tussle with Brax, and his tee shirt was torn at the collar. “It’ll all blow over.” He gave a grin, then winced at the cut on his lip. “It always does.”
We talked for a while, just driving around, until finally, Noah took me back to the dorm. He walked me to the entrance. “If you ever need me, Olivia, just call.” He smiled, and it was genuine and unthreatening. With his hand he straightened my crooked fairy wing. “I mean it.”
“I will. Thanks, Noah.”
I watched him drive off and, despite all that had happened, the humiliation, the hurt, the shit, my eyes darted through the darkness. Seeking a familiar headlamp from an even more familiar motorcycle. There was nothing. The lot was empty, save my old truck and few other lone vehicles. And I wasn’t sure if I felt relief or disappointment.
With a heavy heart I slid my card through the key lock and entered the dorm.
Putting Brax behind me proved much harder in reality than in theory. He texted. Called. Emailed. I ignored them all. Although he’d stayed away that night after the Blitz, he’d since made it his mission to ensure I got home from work okay. I found myself looking for that single headlamp in the parking lot, and hating myself when relief swept over me. He tried his best to talk to me, but I just … couldn’t. He was everywhere; stuck in my memory, my brain, my thoughts.
My humanities class.
Right along with Kelsy.
I sat away from them both and tried my best to concentrate on my studies. It was as if my brain had its very own clump of gray matter at its beck and call. Against my will my gaze would slip over the room and seek out Brax. Every single time it happened, he caught me. He’d have his gaze fixed on me, too, and a look of anguish and helplessness would wash over his distinctive features as his eyes silently pleaded with me. I hurriedly turned away every time. It was almost unbearable. My emotions were so raw, conflicted, at war with one another and me, jammed right smack in the middle. It drained me. Made me tired. Uninterested with school. Sad. I missed Brax. Missed the way it’d been … before. His voice. His accent. His playful teasing. All of that clouded my recent memory of the embarrassment and pain I’d endured once I’d discovered his true intentions at that stupid fraternity Blitz. Maybe it made me feel better to have a shred of hope that some of it had been real. How could anyone be that callous? That shallow? The truth of his deception was plain and evident. Black and white. Cut and dry. So why did I still carry hope? Was it the pleading of his voice I heard in my head, over and over again? Begging me to listen, to understand he’d tried to stop it? That I didn’t know the whole story?