41. Asher

It didn’t take long to find the party Harvey was attending. It was the only one happening on Greek Row. Even so, by the time I got there, the rage and anger building inside me was like a freaking hurricane, and when I spotted him, I couldn’t contain myself.

He was leaning over a girl, her back pressed against the wall while he flirted with her, his hand resting on the wall while his fingers curled around the ends of her hair. She was looking smitten and proud that a guy like Harvey would notice her.

And all I could see was Lani on her knees, begging him to get the hell out of her while he held her hips and pounded on her.

I’m not sure if I roared, but the people around me seemed to gasp and flinch away from me as I charged at Harvey and fisted the back of his jacket.

Now he’s pressed against the wall where that girl used to be standing and frowning at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“Asher? What the fuck, man?”

His shocked expression somehow stops my brain from short-circuiting, and I suddenly come out of my raging fog to notice more movement around me. Whispers scurry around us as phones are being held in my direction, pictures being snapped and sent. Fuck, they’re probably taking videos, thinking this will be a fight worth posting on social media.

Dammit!

Calm the fuck down, Bensen!

“We have to talk,” I growl, tipping my head to the side and stalking toward the front door.

Harvey mutters something behind my back, and I turn to make sure he’s following me. He’s giving the girl he was flirting with an apologetic smile, gently touching her face. “I’ll just be a few minutes, okay?”

She nods, her expression adoring before she flicks me an acidic look.

I spin for the door, my insides churning. It’s hard to imagine Harvey turning from Mr. Sweet into a guy who rapes a woman.

But Lani said he did.

Fuck. I want to believe her, but Harvey’s not like that.

Sure, he’s a flirt and sleeps around as much as Casey used to, but that’s because he’s popular. He appreciates women, enjoys them. Does he really rape them?

Shoving my hands in my jacket pockets, I stop in the front yard, moving all the way to the tree so we’re hidden by the black shadows its branches are casting over the lawn.

Laughter and music from the party float out of the house, masking our conversation.

“Dude.” Harvey shakes his head at me. “What is going on with you?”

“Did you rape my girlfriend?” I don’t have time for bullshit, so I get straight to the point.

There’s a beat of thick, painful silence before Harvey chokes out his disbelief. “What?”

“Lani. Did you ra?—”

“No!” He cuts me off before I can say it again. “I only just met her today. Did she say that I tracked her down later or something? What the fuck? I was with you all of lunch, then this afternoon, I hung out with that girl I met, and then I came here.” He points behind him. “Did she say I did something to her?”

I clench my jaw, my throat so thick, it’s hard to swallow. “It wasn’t today. It was at a party… a few months back.”

He shakes his head. “I can’t believe this. I swear to you, man. I only met her today for the first time. I did not touch her or rape her or… shit, man! You honestly think I’d rape someone?” His voice pitches, and then he lets out this sigh like I’ve hurt his feelings. No, not hurt them, crushed them to dust. “You’re my brother. How could you think that about me?”

Working my jaw to the side, I can’t even look at him as I squeeze the back of my neck and try to figure out what I’m supposed to do.

Lani said it was him.

But maybe she was wrong?

Maybe the guy who raped her is just really similar to Harvey.

The thought actually gives me a small spark of hope.

Harvey’s a good-looking college athlete with brown hair that’s cut short at the sides and styled into purposely messy spikes on top. There’s a bunch of guys out there who look just like him. Lani did say she was drunk and things were fuzzy. Maybe the guy who did that to her had a Harvey essence.

The thought sits ugly in my chest.

I don’t want to doubt her. I want to respect what she feels and believes.

But what if she’s wrong?

I could fuck up everything if I go accusing my cousin of something he didn’t do.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I mumble a few curses as I rub my temples.

“So, she was raped, huh?” Harvey’s voice is soft with sympathy. “Man, that’s… so wrong.” The way his voice is trembling with emotion has a wave of shame washing through me. “I’m sorry that happened to her.”

I open my eyes and stare at his face. The dim light makes it hard to see the detail, but I can see his eyes glittering in the darkness, and he sounds so genuine. So honest.

“I’m guessing she doesn’t know who the guy is? If she thought it was me.”

“Yeah,” I mumble. “You must look like him or something.”

“Well, if you ever find him, let me know. I’ll come and help you pound his flesh.” He lightly squeezes my shoulder.

I nod, silently thanking him for the support.

“You know I can bail on this party if you need me to?—”

“No, it’s okay,” I croak. “I’m gonna go see Lani.”

“Okay.” He nods. “If there’s anything I can do to help, I mean… I’m guessing she never wants to see me if I remind her so much of this guy, but… Please, if there’s anything I can do.”

“Thanks, man.” My mind is reeling as I say goodbye to my cousin and shuffle back to my truck.

I don’t know what to think.

All I know is that Harvey was telling me the truth just then. I’m no lie detector, but everything about his tone and posture seemed honest. He’s my cousin, and I want to believe him.

But I want to believe Lani too.

She wouldn’t make up something like this. In her mind, Harvey is the guy who raped her.

I guess I just need to help her see that it wasn’t him.

But how do I do that without hurting her?