Chapter 3

Three

MARISSA

Fleeing Xavier’s room, I scramble down various corridors, trying frantically to remember the path we had taken when we arrived. After a few wrong turns and an almost panic attack, I find my way to the entrance hall, sweating profusely. With some relief, I note the downstairs is still packed with people. Scurrying from room to room, I still can’t find James, feeling utterly helpless without my phone.

A tall brunette guy, I think from my Intro to Art History course, steps in front of me as I approach a large ballroom. “Hey! You here to play?”

“No, I’m not. Excuse me,” I say, trying to brush past him. When I do, he lifts me in his arms and tosses me over his shoulder. Screaming, I hit his back with my purse as his shoulders shake with a laugh.

“Sorry!” he yells, not a bit like an apology, but he sets me down and backs away. “Doesn’t want to fuck at an orgy…” he mutters, shaking his head as he walks the opposite direction with his hands high in the air.

On a rushed scan through a less crowded hallway, the redhead in leopard print lingerie exits a side door. Her cat eyes scan me from head to toe before she arches an eyebrow.

“Scared, little girl?” Flipping her hair over a shoulder, she crosses her arms.

“Uh, have you seen James, my boyfriend?” I’ve clearly done something to piss this woman off, but hopefully, she’ll still give me information.

“James is your boyfriend? Um… Well, I think he’s with Jackson.” She bumps my shoulder as she passes me, and I turn to see her wiggle her hips down the hall. So, James is with Jackson. I swallow to help push the nausea down that’s threatening to rise from my stomach, while my heart aches with pain.

Rushing to the rooms on the other side of the first story, I search the crowd, looking for anyone I recognize. Alex, one of the men James sucked off, leans against a wall in a hall between the dining room and what looks like the kitchen entrance. A line of women loudly chatters on the opposite side, waiting for the bathroom. Shoving through bodies, I make my way to Alex as he takes a swig from a beer bottle.

“Oh, hey! James’s girlfriend, right?” Alex snickers over the term like it’s a big joke.

“Uh, yeah. Have you seen him?” My eyes continue to scan the hall while asking.

Alex grins and keeps his focus on the crowd around us, sipping his drink. “Yep,” he says with a little punctuation on the end of the p. “James is out back. Pretty sure he’s in the pool house by now.” He seems to find my panic amusing as a slow grin creeps over his face.

Gritting my teeth, I smirk and say, “Thanks.”

As I turn, Alex grabs my shoulder. “I think I’d give him a few more minutes.”

With a huff, I toss off his hand and weave through the guests back to the entry.

The glass doors stand open to the patio. My legs race past the pool, now filled with more partiers than fuckers, to a small wood-clad cottage. Yellow lights filter through the curtains in the windows, illuminating some shadows held within.

Gripping the black iron handle, I press in, but pause as James says, “Fuck, baby, you’re exactly what I want.”

“Me, too, handsome,” another man replies in between smacking sounds.

Creeping inside, I spot Jackson leaning James’s naked body against one of the beadboard walls. The two are enraptured in a deep kiss, stroking each other’s hardening dicks. James grips Jackson’s ass with one hand while tugging him with his other. Jackson reaches between them to grip both of their dicks in his massive hand, fondling them together.

“Fuck, baby.” Squeezing his eyes closed, James drops his head back. A tiny whimper escapes my lips as my eyes fill with heated tears. Both men stop, snapping their heads to me.

“Oh, fuck. Jackson, stop. Marissa? I thought you were upstairs. Uh...baby, hold on, wait, stop.” Jackson slows his strokes for a second, narrows his eyes at me, then grinds his hips harder on James. Gripping his face, he shoves his tongue down James’s throat.

Pausing his kiss for only a moment, Jackson sneers and says, “James is busy, sweetheart.” Then he returns to suck my boyfriend’s face. James thrusts his cock in Jackson’s hand, tossing his arms around his neck, and groans. My mouth hangs open with some unspoken protest, the pain searing my words inside so only a tiny, exasperated gasp escapes.

Almost tripping over myself, I stumble out of the cottage to the pool area. My heart feels like a tight band wraps around it whenever I take a deep breath. This was never part of our plan. James just destroyed the rules we set. Neither of us were supposed to have sex with other people alone. Moving my shoulders around, I try to squirm out of my own skin, now feeling dirty and used. We never should have come here.

Desperate to leave, my fingers dig into my scalp and tug on my hair as I try to think of a way to get home. Tears threaten to spill over, but I bite my lip to hold them back, not wanting anyone to see me crying. Without a phone or a friend, I have no idea how I can escape. The only other person I sort of know is the psychotic president of this madhouse, but there’s no way I’m finding him again. Just as I start calculating how long it will take to walk back to civilization, lithe arms gather me into a warm embrace as a high-pitched squeal deafens my ears.

“Oh my god. You were invited, too? And you showed up?” Elle’s beautiful figure is only covered in a tiny white string bikini when she greets me. “I have so much to tell you.”

I’ve never been more grateful to see my best friend. “Elle?”

My vision blurs, and all I can make out is her perfect smile faltering before she grips me tighter to her body. “Fuck. What happened? Are you okay? You need help?”

Hearing the tenderness in her voice, I let all the tears fall. “He called him ‘baby.’”

“Shit…” Pushing my head into her shoulder, she glances around. “We need to get out of here, don’t we?”

Nodding, I let her lead me around the pool area in a daze while she makes some goodbye excuses to whomever she had been hooking up with, snatching her purse and clothes. After tossing on a coverup, she gathers my hand and tugs me to the entry and out front toward the fountain. My body feels like I’m not even here anymore.

“Neon green Porsche. You can’t miss it,” she says to the valet. A contained sob finally escapes my mouth. “Shh, shh. Just a sec, and we’ll be home.” Her long fingers stroke my back when she tosses an arm around me. She checks to ensure I still have my purse before we get into her obnoxiously painted sports car.

As soon as I buckle up, she asks, “What happened?”

“James doesn’t want me anymore. I think… I’m pretty sure tonight was what I knew it would be. He used this as his way of exploring away from me.”

“You mean he and Jackson?” Tilting her blonde head at me, she squints her eyes.

With a sniff and swallow, I clear my throat. “Did you know?”

“Um, promise you won’t hate me. I introduced Jackson and James a few months ago. Jackson made it clear he wanted James for himself. I saw them come downstairs naked together tonight, but I thought… Well, I thought maybe you were okay with it, you know, the whole ‘exploration’ thing.” She pauses and steers us in the direction of our place. “I mean, I was going to mention it to you tomorrow, but we aren’t supposed to talk about what happens at Red Night without getting offed or something.”

The image of Jackson and James together flashes in my mind again, causing the belt around my heart to constrict. “No, no. I don’t blame you at all. You rescued me. I think–I think this has been coming for a while.”

“Talk with James, Marissa. Maybe he’s just high or something. I’m sure you guys will work it out.” Pursing her lips, she adds, “But if he did fuck around on you, I’ll cut his balls off myself.”

When we enter the apartment, Sharice is still awake, meal-prepping at the kitchen island. As her dark eyes rake over me, she plants her knife on the counter and grabs a bottle of wine from the fridge. “Shit. What happened?” Elle pulls me to the sofa, and Sharice snags three wine glasses, then squats in front of us, medicine in hand.

“James had sex with Jackson Riley, and I tried to interrupt them, but he ignored me and kept going.” Oddly, by saying it out loud, I feel less hurt by what James did and more embarrassed. Deep down, I knew and just didn’t want to believe it. Maybe I feel like I deserve it…

The tissues on the coffee table waft under the weight of Sharice’s sigh. “Dammit. Do we even need the glasses?” I snag one and fill it anyway. Pressing a button on the Bluetooth speaker, she turns on a heavy metal playlist. Being a music major, she always knows exactly which song fits each mood. Passing wine to Elle, the three of us settle in and start bitching about boys.

“Screw the meal plan. I’m ordering wings and fries from Tony’s,” Sharice says.

Elle tosses back her drink and says, “Get that triple layer chocolate cake they have, too.”

“I need to get out of this dress… I’ll be right back,” I tell them.

Once I shower and change into sweatpants, we dish the trash food, drink the rest of another bottle of red, and swap sob stories until Kinsley comes in from a terrible date to join us.

“How was what’s his name?” Elle asks as Kins plops into the armchair.

“Horrible. Like…I get it. He’s also pre-med, but does he have to talk about medicine all night? And he kinda smelled like mothballs. Hand me a glass,” she says, pointing to the table.

We fill her up and in on the story of the night.

“He seems pretty confused, Marissa. You should just cut things off,” Kinsley says.

“I told her to let him say what happened, you know, probably tomorrow after everything’s calmed down.” Elle tosses her ponytail over her shoulder and crosses her long legs.

“Nah, he’s not worth it, in my opinion. You can do so much better,” Sharice says with a knowing nod at me.

Despite them all negging James, I know they all love him. Most everyone does. I just can’t fathom not having him in my life anymore. The fear of being by myself overtakes me for a moment as I steal a glance at my bedroom door.

“You said James and Jackson were making out in a bedroom. Did you mean Xavier Cardell’s room?” Elle asks, eyes narrowing as she steals the last wing.

“Uh, yeah.” I try to avoid the topic of Xavier and take another sip of the rich red. My brain feels quite fuzzy, the pain lessening with every swallow. But remembering the way he made my body feel tonight, my pulse quickens.

“Oh, huh... I’ve heard he only lets certain people in. What happened there? A watercolor picture of events is fine. Like, if you knew anyone else.” Attempting to seem casual, she raises her eyebrows at me and gnaws on her chicken. But it seems like she’s asking if there was a particular person there.

Briefly, I explain the scene to Elle since she had an invite, telling Kins and Sharice to “keep your ears shut,” since I’m technically not allowed to say.

“Did—did you end up with anyone there?” Kinsley asks, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. With all three of them staring at me for an answer, I feel trapped in a conversation I don’t know how to navigate my way out of. Not while my thoughts are so muddled. But knowing Kinsley, she won’t let anything drop.

“Well, I don’t think I should say any details. We could get into trouble. You know, like Elle said.” Sharice and Kinsley nod as they stand and clean up, but Elle’s big blue eyes dart to my face with a sneaky glance.

Gathering up my hair in a loose bun on the top of my head, I announce, “I think I’m going to go to the studio for an hour just to get my mind straightened out.” Also, I want to evade any more detailed questions and my bed…alone.

When I get to my room to pull on my shoes, Elle taps on my door before entering, then shuts it behind her. With a mischievous look in her eye, she asks, “Who was it?”

“Who was what?” I ask while blinking rapidly and trying to push past her to get my art bag in the corner.

“Stop playing. Who did you hook up with?”

“James, who also hooked up with Jackson. I told you.”

Crossing her arms, she leans her back against my door. “Did you hook up with Xavier Cardell?”

“Wh-why do you say that?” My face flames with heat and promptly spoils my secrets.

“Ah-ha! I knew it.” Her perfectly painted fingernail points at me. “You’re going to get married and have his babies. I can tell.”

A choked gasp leaves my throat. “What?! You’re crazy.”

“He asked about you freshman year. I think he was trying to hook up with you then, but you were already into James.” Just the mention of Xavier asking about me makes my stomach flip. I hate it.

“Really? When?” Ugh… Do I sound too eager?

“It was early on after you and James started hooking up, I think.”

As casually as I can, I ask, “What did he say?” And please include tone and intonation.

“I don’t remember. That was two years ago, and I was probably drunk.” Backing off the door, she turns to open it for us, but stops.

“Wait! He asked something weird, like if you were from around here and if I knew your dad’s name, but I didn’t.”

Throwing my bag over my shoulder, my eyebrows knit together. “My dad’s name? Like, his first name?”

Shrugging, she waltzes back out into the living room. “I guess.”

“Huh… Well, goodnight.” That is strange. My father has nothing to do with Cardell Enterprises. Why would Xavier ask about him?

Walking down the hall to my assigned studio makes me feel like I just swallowed a peach pit. Outside most of the rooms is where undergraduate artists exhibit their best work in glass displays. Our professors often sign positive reviews underneath the pieces, showcasing the students’ strengths. The wall next to my door stands mockingly empty. Another reminder every time I enter my little area that I’m not good enough.

Not enough for Mr. Hall.

Not enough for James.

Just not enough.

We were assigned something in oils this week, and I also need to brainstorm ideas for my photography project due at the end of the semester. Fortunately, I’ve already written my paper for my Art History class, so some of my work for the week is already completed. Which leaves me some focus for the task at hand.

Flipping on the light, I place an earbud into each ear and select a classical music playlist on my phone, starting with Beethoven’s “Sonata Number 17.” It always helps me work and will hopefully keep my mind off what happened tonight. The roughness of the sturdy apron calms my nerves. As my hands grasp at my supplies and pull out a prepped canvas, I ease into the motions like a dance I know all the steps to.

Once I’ve set it on the easel, I stare at the blank space for a good long while, envisioning everything my mind wants to get rid of. Several times, a tingling sensation on the back of my neck draws me to the little window in the corner. It’s pitch-black outside, too dark for me to see anything. At one point, I lift a headphone out of my ear and listen for any sounds, but there’s only silence.

I get to work outlining my colors with dark grays and blues, leading to peaks of reds and browns, and ending with deep greens and creams near the bottom. While I brush, I remember the tense feelings before entering the manor. Some lust and passion are twisted in the paint, too. Finally, I let the hurt take me under until I can feel it all.

Stopping to blow my nose a few times, I pause my process to cry, but I press on. Over the next couple of hours, I stand back to assess the scene in front of me. A shadow of a little girl shirks before a large, intimidating castle lit only by moonlight. Near the door beckons a lighted figure outlined in red. In a window above shines a shadow glowing white.

I clean up and head toward home when I’m too exhausted to carry on. A shuffling sound behind me causes me to spin around, but no one is there. Gripping a set of keys between my fingers, I try to walk as fast as possible until I make it to the apartment unscathed.

Sliding between my gray sheets, I’m prepared to surrender to my wine buzz. Instead, I toss and turn, thinking about the events of the evening. James and Jackson kissing on the bed, making out in the pool house, rumors of them wanting to be together.

Worst of all is the engraved image of the intensity of Xavier’s eyes while he was inside of me. The inebriating taste of his tongue and the intoxicating scent of his body. Remembering the feel of his mouth over my ear as he spoke about things that made my thighs dampen with need.

The words I keep playing over are the ones about deserving something more and that I’m now his. He acts as if I am enough… But Xavier doesn’t even know me. How does he know what I deserve or what I’m worth? Why was he asking Elle about me two years ago, when he hadn’t so much as glanced in my direction?

That god of a man, the pride of Northview, seems to have set his sights on me. Why? I’m not worth anything.

Despite my shower, I still feel his experienced hands gripping my body and his cum melting inside. Like muscle memory, my pussy pulses, thinking of how much he stretched me and the craving I had to feel him again as soon as we finished. I’m grateful to be on the pill, but that doesn’t negate the fact that he could have given me something. He’s definitely a player. What if he used those lines on other girls and refused to wear a condom? As soon as possible, I’m heading to student health to get tested again.

It’s late, but part of me still expects James to crawl through my window. Why hasn’t he tried to call or apologize? Gasping, I sit up and reach for my phone. Maybe he doesn’t have his because he’s still at the TRZ house with Jackson.

Worried, I hurriedly scroll through social media to see if anyone has posted anything about his whereabouts. Fortunately, there aren’t any pictures from the events of Red Night itself, but my chest caves in when I find Jackson Riley’s account.

He posted a picture from an hour ago, lying on a couch in a room I don’t recognize, but there’s a bed in the background. Jackson’s ripped chest is shirtless, his legs propped up on a coffee table with two plates of pancakes. The top of a blonde head rests in Jackson’s lap. The caption says: Late-night snack with the boy *heart emoji*.

It’s James.

Comments on his picture include people saying, “Finally!” and “I knew it!” and “You guys are so great together!”

Rolling over to my side, I drop the phone and cry out the pain I’d been holding back all night.