Breakable Read online

  I frown, meet his gaze because I’m confident that I know Finn’s a pig better than anyone else. But Doc leans forward and returns his glasses to his eyes.

  “Stacy, what he did was wrong. You didn’t deserve that on any level. He used his superior strength and social status to threaten you. I have no doubt that your reaction after the fact was actually shock. You were put in a position where your body believed your life, or wellbeing was at serious risk. For a young man to do that to a young women simply because he can…? I am sickened by it.”

  I swallow. I believe him. “T-thank you.”

  Doc shakes his head. “This story goes much deeper than I was led to believe. I find myself…disturbed that these events went unaddressed for so long.”

  I shrug, and freeze again. Geez, when will I remember how much that hurts?

  I’m still shifting in my seat, trying to get comfortable, when Doc sits back and returns to his notebook.

  “Tell me, did you report these events to your mother? Or a teacher? Any responsible adult?”

  I shake my head.

  “Why not?”

  I sigh. “Because it all kind of got lost in the shuffle of what happened after that. By the time things had calmed down, it felt like it was too late to tell anyone. And I didn’t want them to know about the letter, so…”

  Doc frowns. “What events overshadowed that?”

  I swallow and return to the story.

  I’m not sure how long I sat in that room, but eventually the music from downstairs got louder, pressing up through the floorboards, buzzing against the soles of my feet. More and more people gathered in the upstairs hall, their voices a high-pitched punctuation to the thumping bass. Every now and again someone would shriek. Laughter rose in clouds.

  It was a party. Everyone was having fun.

  Had they forgotten me yet? Were they drunk enough that if I ventured out, they’d ignore me? I was still shaking, but the adrenalin rush had passed. I wasn’t fighting tears anymore. I felt like I could talk to people without falling apart.

  Sort of.

  But I didn’t move.

  Looking back, I wish I had.

  The door opened twice while I tried to figure out what to do. Both times a girl peered in, saw me, gasped and backed out, closing the door again. I didn’t even have to say anything.

  When it opened again the third time, I got to my feet. Whoever it was, they could have the room. The petty part of me hoped they’d mess it up and Finn would get in trouble with his parents.

  “You can have–”

  “Stacy?” A deep voice asked. Then the door swung wider. Dex stood there, a little unsteady. “There you are!”

  His face was flushed. But he was still wearing that stupid jacket. Idiot was probably burning up just so he’d look cool.

  “Hey,” I said, weakly, dropping back down to the divan.

  “I’ve been looking for you for an hour. Where did you go?” He closed the door and came to stand in front of me.

  I shrugged. “Just…I just needed to get away from everyone,” I said, knowing it sounded lame even as it came out of my mouth.

  “Needed some space, huh?” Dex said, his voice low and lush.

  I nodded. A teeny, tiny alarm dinged in the back of my head.

  Dex stepped closer and offered me a hand. I took it and stood up. Then his hands trailed up my arm. He watched their progress and leaned toward me, his cheek coming to rest right next to mine, his lips close to my ear. “Were you hoping I’d find you?” he murmured, and a waft of sharp, sweet alcohol drifted under my nose.

  I jerked back reflexively.

  Dex stood straight, looking puzzled, his fingers still running trails up and down my arms.

  “Have you been drinking?” I asked, hushed, and angry. Also afraid. Dex was supposed to be my safety net tonight.

  But at my words, his face shuttered. His chin came forward and he leaned back. “I told you, I don’t have a problem with alcohol.”

  “But–”

  Dex rolled his eyes. “I’ve already sorted out a sober driver. Don’t worry.” His hands dropped from my arms and reached for something in his back pocket. Then he was holding a silver flask. “You clearly need to loosen up,” he said with a wink. “Here. Have a drink.”

  I stared at the flask, uncertain whether this was very cool and grown up of him, or desperately stupid and selfish.

  “You came prepared.”

  Dex shrugged and took a swig off the flask himself, then held it out to me again. “Means I don’t have to carry a cup around. And besides, I don’t really like beer.”

  I eyed the flask. I had vowed not to drink tonight, mainly because I tended to turn into an idiot when I did, and I couldn’t afford that here. But I was feeling really wound up. Maybe just one shot would help me relax. Make me braver. So I could go out there and find a ride home.

  I took it from him, hoping he didn’t notice my fingers shaking. I took a mouthful, then swore when it hit my throat. “Whoa!” I gasped, then coughed. I could feel the warmth spreading from my stomach into my arms almost immediately. “W-what is that?” I croaked.

  Dex chuckled and took the flask back. “It’s moonshine. My dad makes it. He doesn’t realize I know. It’s easy to steal it because he’s stores it in a huge bottle in the basement. One little flask-full doesn’t even make a dent.”

  He looked very pleased with himself. I wondered why a man with a drug-addicted son was making alcohol in the basement.

  “Want some more?”

  The flask, gripped in Dex’s long, thick fingers, wavered in front of my face. There was a not-unpleasant looseness draining through my muscles.

  “Just one more,” I said and took it. It still burned the second time.

  When I handed it back to him and wiped my mouth, Dex smiled.

  “What?” I asked absently. I was enjoying the spreading sense of warmth in my chest.

  “You look different,” he said, putting the flask back in his pocket. “Sexier.”

  I snorted. “Yeah, well, spilling a beer all over your chest and walking around half-dressed will do that to a person.”

  Dex shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

  Everything in the room spun gently. My face felt weird. “Well, what did you mean, then?” The words felt thick on my tongue. Not difficult to say, just…too slow. Like my brain didn’t finish the words quick enough.

  Dex leaned in. The alcohol smell wasn’t noticeable this time. “I meant, since I’ve been gone you’ve changed. I noticed it as soon as I saw you.” His hand settled at my bare waist and pulled me closer.

  I’d known this was coming ever since Dex walked in the door. A year ago it would have been our usual rhythm. But now? I’d been too tense to want to get close to him when he arrived. After all, wasn’t I still mad at him for leaving?

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

  My tears threatened to return. It felt good to have someone compliment me.

  I met him halfway when he leaned down to kiss me, opened my mouth and let my hands slide up his chest and around his neck.

  Dex made a little groaning noise and pulled me closer.

  I’d forgotten what a great kisser he was – gentle and teasing sometimes, intense and demanding at others. As his lips slid over mine, and his tongue traced the corner of my mouth, I pressed in, waiting for the heat. When Dex used to kiss me, I’d always felt that burn of desire for him. I’d always wanted to feel closer.

  It wasn’t waiting for me in this kiss, but that was probably because I was too distracted. Also, apparently, getting drunk; When Dex’s tongue brushed my teeth, I giggled.

  He pulled back for a second, just far enough to talk without touching. “What’s funny?” He sounded a little irritated. “I don’t kiss you for a year, and the first time I do, you laugh?”

  “No, no, it wasn’t that,” I said, fighting down another giggle. Where were they coming from? “Ignore me. I’m just feeling weird.” I threaded
my fingers into the hair at the back of his neck and pulled him closer. He didn’t resist.

  His arms came around me, pulled me up until I was on tiptoe. His lips danced across mine.

  Any minute now, I’d feel that excitement.

  Any minute…

  Why wasn’t I feeling it?

  The longer I stayed in his arms, the less I was able to enjoy it. But that was just me. Dex’s breathing became harsh. The kiss harder. His fingers curled into my waist, then dragged up my sides until they were under my sweater.

  I tensed, pressed into the kiss, tried to remember what it felt like to want his hands on me.

  But my stomach roiled. My skin didn’t tingle, it writhed. His hands on the clasp of my bra felt violating.

  Then he groaned for real and started walking me backwards.

  I stiffened. “No, wait, Dex…”

  “Shhh, it’ll be fine.”

  “But–”

  “Just relax.”

  One hand dragged down to my backside and squeezed. The packet in my back pocket crackled and we both froze. Dex straightened just enough to meet my eyes at the same time he pulled the little foil pack out of my pocket and held it up. Then he grinned.

  “I knew it.”

  “No! It’s not–”

  Dex’s mouth crushed down on mine. He leaned me back until I was forced to take a step. My calves hit the end of the bed and I sat down hard. Dex was in my face, pushing me back. My mouth couldn’t form the words I needed – especially not with Dex trying to swallow my tonsils. I pushed against his chest.

  “It’s okay, Stace,” he rasped against my lips. “I won’t tell–”

  Wrenching my face sideways – his lips left a snail-trail of spit on my cheek – I sucked in a breath. “Get. OFF!”

  I shoved him at the same moment he cursed and jerked back. His weight shifted and he slid off the bed backwards, one arm flailing, landing on the floor with a thump.

  I sat up, a hysterical giggle bubbling out of my throat. I clapped a hand over my mouth.

  Dex appeared again, springing off the floor like he could pretend he’d never been there. He wavered a little when he made it to his feet, but then he caught his balance and turned, glaring.

  “What is wrong with you?!” He hurled the words at me, his face twisted, eyes wide.

  His anger took me by surprise. As soon as he’d hit the floor I’d imagined his pride might be bruised. But…

  “Dex, it was an accident–”

  “Shut up! I can’t believe I brought you here. Tried to help you. Why do you have to pretend you don’t want what you clearly came here for? Or is it because you didn’t come here to get it from me?”

  I was stunned. “Wait a second, Grabby Hands, just because you asked me–”

  “You really don’t have a clue, do you?” He shook his head and had to take a step back to catch his balance. “Do you know how many of the girls downstairs are offering a lot more than a grope? But I still came looking for you.”

  “Well, I guess you made the wrong choice then, didn’t you.” My voice was cold. It sounded strong. If only I felt that way.

  “You got that right,” he spat. The words hit me in the stomach. Then his lip curled in a sneer the perfect twin to Finn’s and I lost my breath.

  “I’m leaving,”

  I pushed myself to the edge of the bed, got to my feet before he made another sound.

  “Wait.” Dex grabbed my arm as I took a step, pulled me back. “You can’t just leave–”

  I whirled, my free hand spun out and took him flat on the cheek with a crack that rebounded off the walls.

  Dex blinked. His mouth dropped open and his hand left my arm. He stared.

  I inched back a step, watching him. He was drunk. Would he–?

  “Wait…” He reached for me again.

  “Don’t touch me!” I jumped back, stumbling towards the door.

  “Stacy, I shouldn’t have said... I just got mad–”

  But I’d reached the door, fumbled at the handle with shaking hands until I got it open. I turned and flung it wide.

  “Stacy!”

  “Get away from me!” I shrieked and ran into the hall.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I felt rather than saw all the faces in Finn’s hallway turn towards me. For a second I froze, felt myself tremble. My sight was blurred with tears, the light and dark of the party torn into strips. But then Dex’s footsteps thumped on the thick carpet behind me.

  “Stacy!”

  I gasped and ran for the stairs. But I only made it a couple steps before I drew up hard against an iron chest.

  “What’s going on?”

  Warm hands closed on my arms. It was Mark. The relief was palpable.

  “M-Mark, it isn’t as bad as…I just… can you please t-take me home?”

  Mark’s face was stern. “Of course I can. But–” His eyes narrowed. “Stace, you’re shaking. What happened?!”

  “Should’ve known,” Dex muttered behind me. It startled me. My heart thumped painfully. I knew I’d overreacted with Dex, knew he’d be angry. Reflexively, when his voice sounded right at my back, I flinched.

  Mark’s eyes widened. Then his head snapped up to look at Dex. His eyes narrowed to slits and his grip tightened on my arms.

  Suddenly I was behind him and he had Dex up against the wall with a thud that shook the upper story. His forearm pressed into Dex’s chest so hard it shook, the muscles in his shoulder threatening to punch out of his tight shirt.

  Dex grunted. They struggled, wrestled.

  “Keep your hands off her!”

  “You’re one to talk,” Dex managed through gritted teeth.

  Mark plowed a fist into Dex’s stomach. Dex made a strange, gurgling noise and his face flushed to near-purple. Mark let him go and stepped back, poised to take another swing. But Dex just sank to the floor, holding his stomach and coughing.

  Mark’s hands came down to his sides. I stood behind him, hands over my mouth, giddily swinging between cold horror that Dex got hit because of me, and flushing with warmth that Mark would hit anyone because of me.

  But before I got myself together, Mark grabbed my arm and pulled me for the stairs.

  “Come on.” His voice was flat and hard.

  “But–” I stumbled after him. The room spun and faces came in flashes. I couldn’t focus. My legs didn’t seem to want to work. I tripped on the stairs twice. Both times I giggled – even I could tell it sounded unhinged – and Mark cursed and caught me.

  “Are you drunk?” he hissed in my ear when we finally made it to the bottom.

  “I didn’t think I was… only two shots…”

  “Shots? Of what?” Mark led me through the crowds downstairs. Bodies were much thicker down here. More faces turned to watch. More eyebrows raising…

  “Dex’s flashk. I mean, flask,” I corrected myself, stumbling again as Mark changed direction to slide between bodies.

  Most of the crowd followed our passage with their eyes, faces bright with curiosity, mouths twisted or covered by hands as words were whispered to friends.

  I wanted to stop, to tell them all it wasn’t as bad as it looked, and they could just pretend I hadn’t been there. But Mark kept dragging me forward, tugging at my arm every time I tried to slow, or turned towards an onlooker.

  “Just keep moving,” he muttered in my ear.

  “My purse–”

  “Is in my car. I found it half an hour ago. In Finn’s room.”

  The tone in his voice said we weren’t finished talking about that. Oh, farkle.

  Through the blur, and the alcohol haze, the front door slowly eased into view. Mark didn’t have to pull me anymore, I was as eager to get out of here as he was to get me out.

  But six feet in front of it, Mark drew to a halt so fast I ran into him. His grip on my arm didn’t waver.

  “What’s going on, Mark?” Karyn asked in her little-girl voice.

  “Don’t worry,” I stage whispered.
Both Mark and Karyn turned to look at me. “Your voice will break when you go through puberty.”

  “Shut up, Stacy,” Mark muttered. “Look, Kar, there’s been…I need to give Stacy a ride home. But I’ll be back in half an hour, okay? Sorry, babe.”

  He leaned forward to kiss her, but she jerked back, glaring, first at him, then at me. A perverse part of me, desperate to pretend this night hadn’t happened, was dying to tick Karyn off. I pretended to sway, lurched into Mark and grabbed at his arm, hugging it to my chest.

  He didn’t let go of my wrist, but the glance he gave me spoke volumes.

  Karyn’s gaze dropped to Mark’s arm, where we were joined, then snapped back up to his face.

  “Kar–” Mark started.

  But her expression suddenly lightened. She waved a hand and shook her head, a slow smile spreading on her face. “It’s fine. You’re right. She’s drunk. Get her out of here. I’m sure I’ll find something to do until you get back.”

  Then she looked at me and her smile got broader.

  Uneasiness swirled over my revulsion and embarrassment.

  Karyn wasn’t finished. “Have you seen Finn, Mark? People keep asking where the cups are and I don’t know.”

  Then she looked at me again.

  Mark murmured something about Finn being in his room. “…but you might not want to interrupt…that…”

  Karyn laughed and touched his other arm, her eyes warm on his. “Don’t worry. I’ll wait my turn.”

  Then she turned, her eyes met mine and held until she’d passed us and sashayed her way to the stairs, disappearing into the crowd.

  No.

  I started after her, this was our chance!

  But Mark growled something and yanked me back towards the door.

  “But, Mark, can’t you see? She’s going to–”

  “Shut up, Stacy.” He shoved his way through the last of the people and yanked the door open, pulling me outside. Stomping across the driveway like he was crushing bugs.

  “Mark, seriously, we should go back. She’s going to find Finn, and–”

  “Stacy, seriously, it is time for you to shut up.”

  Then I realized he was seething. Absolutely livid.

  It was rare for Mark to lose his temper. I gripped his arm with my other hand.