Ch.5

Jami

The moment Marcus pulls Reid away, Chloe turns to me, her jaw dropping on the floor. She looks around the dark, sweaty club like she still can’t believe she’s standing in it.

"I'm sorry, but since when does Reid come to places like this?" Chloe asks, her voice loud enough to cut through the heavy bass thumping through the floorboards.

She shakes her head, waving a hand at the crowded dance floor where people are locked in suffocating embraces and doing god-knows-what in the dark corners. "I never believed someone like Reid could be in a place where dicks are getting sucked in public. And he literally kissed you right out in the open? This is insane, Jami. It’s completely unbelievable."

My cheeks burn hot, the ghost of his mouth still lingering on my lips. It was intense. Way too intense for the shy, quiet guy I used to watch from across the library.

"The car he picked me up in is what threw my heart out of position," I admit, my fingers tracing the hem of my top. My chest is still heaving from the adrenaline of it all. "He was driving this insane, expensive sports car. It didn't feel like him at all."

Chloe squeals, grabbing my arm and shaking me. "Wow, you got yourself the coolest, rich boyfriend ever! Who cares about the car? Did you see the way he was looking at you?"

I blush at the word boyfriend. It feels too big, too sudden, but a tiny part of me blooms with hope. Maybe this holiday break won’t be the depressing nightmare I thought it would be.

Just then, the phone in my hand vibrates violently.

I look down at the screen, and the tiny spark of happiness inside me instantly dies. The caller ID reads Stepmother.

My heart skips a beat, dropping straight into my stomach. Cold dread washes over me. I was supposed to go home hours ago for holiday break. The only reason I delayed it was because I lied and told her I had a few final things to wrap up at school before the dorms locked up. I knew going home for the holiday break meant stepping right back into a living hell, and I wanted to delay the torture for as long as possible. My actual plan was to avoid going home entirely, or at least wait until a week before the break ended so I could just grab my allowance from my dad and get out.

But seeing her name flashing on my screen makes my throat go completely dry. I can't dare take this call in this noisy, chaotic place. If she hears the club music blasting in the background, she will absolutely destroy me.

"I need to find somewhere quiet to answer this," I tell Chloe, my voice shaking.

"Go to the back hallway near the exits," Chloe says, pointing toward the dim corridor where Marcus and Reid went earlier. "It's way quieter over there."

I nod quickly, clutching my phone tightly against my chest as I push my way through the thick crowd of dancing bodies. The air gets cooler as I step out of the main room and into the narrow, dimly lit VIP hallway.

As I walk deeper into the hall, looking for a secluded spot, I hear low, tense voices echoing off the concrete walls. I stop in my tracks, recognizing the deep timber of Reid’s voice immediately. He’s talking to Marcus.

"...don't be a buzzkill," Reid’s voice cuts through the silence.

The words right before that had been faint, completely muffled by the heavy doors, so I didn't catch the actual context of what they were arguing about. I take a step forward, completely confused by the sharp, irritated edge in his tone.

The moment I round the corner, both Marcus and Reid freeze.

They turn around, their eyes widening the second they see me standing there. I stop, my brows furrowing as I look between them. They are both staring at me completely stunned, like they’ve just seen a ghost. Marcus looks incredibly pale, his mouth slightly open, while Reid’s eyes hold a rare flash of panic before his face instantly smooths out into that calm, effortless mask.

"Reid?" I murmur, taking a half-step toward them. "What's going on? Why are you guys looking at me like that?"

I am about to ask what they were talking about, but before the words can even leave my mouth, my phone beeps loudly with an incoming text message attachment.

I look down at the screen, my thumb trembling as I unlock it. The message is from my stepsister, Vanessa.

I open the attached photo, and the air is instantly sucked straight out of my lungs. A loud gasp escapes my lips, my hand clamping tightly over my mouth to muffle the sound.

It’s a crystal-clear picture of me. I am wearing the exact outfit I have on right now, getting down from the passenger side of Reid's car. In the shot, his arm wrapping around my waist possessively q.

My head spins. How did Vanessa get this? Is she here at the club?

My phone buzzes again with another text from her just then.

“Just told mom you’re hanging out with dangerous boys. Have fun explaining the sports car.”

I grit my teeth, a wave of hot fury and intense panic washing over me.

“Crazy bitch!” I curse loudly under my breath, my mind racing so fast I don’t even pay attention to Reid, who has stepped right in front of me, his face filled with concern.

Another message pops up, “You better come out right now. Cole is already on his way to drag your pathetic ass home, unless you want to be completely embarrassed in front of your little friends. You’re welcome, sis.”

“Ugh… that sly witch.”

"Jami?" Reid’s voice breaks through my panic. He reaches out, his hand hovering near my shoulder. "What's the problem? Your brows are furrowing so hard you look like a straight-up villain right now."

I look up at him, immediately full of regrets that our first date is going to be ruined. "I have to go. Right now."

"What happened?" he asks, his tone dropping into a soft whisper.

"My stepsister ratted me out to my stepmom," I say, the words tumbling out of my mouth in a panicked rush. "She sent her a picture of us. My stepbrother, Cole, is already on his way to the club, and he's coming to drag me home. I need to leave before he comes inside."

Without waiting for his response, I turn on my heels and hurry back down the hallway, rushing straight to the VIP booth where Chloe is waiting.

"Chloe, I have to leave right now, my family found out," I say breathlessly, grabbing my purse. "I will text you later, okay?"

Before Chloe can even process what I said, Reid appears right beside me, his grip firm and reassuring as he takes my hand. "Calm down, Babe. I'll take you home. It’ll be way faster."

I look at him, swallowing the thick lump of fear in my throat. Going with him is definitely faster than waiting for a ride, and it’s a million times better to leave early on my own terms than to let Cole find me inside and embarrass me in front of the entire club.

"Okay," I whisper. "Let's go."

Reid doesn't waste a second. He leads me through the back exits of the club, bypassing the main line, his large body shielding me from the crowd. The cool night air hits my face, but it does nothing to ease the violent pounding in my chest. Every nerve in my body is on high alert.

We sprint across the asphalt toward his sleek, dark sports car. Reid hits the unlock button, and I quickly scramble into the passenger seat, pulling the door shut. He slides into the driver's seat a second later, throwing the car into reverse.

But just as the engine roars to life, a blinding pair of headlights cuts through the darkness of the parking lot, pinning us in place.

A heavy, battered SUV swerves sharply, blocking Reid's car from pulling out of the parking space. The tires screech against the pavement, stopping just inches from our front bumper.

My stomach drops. I know that car.

The driver's side door of the SUV flies open, and a towering figure steps out into the dim light of the parking lot. It's Cole. His face is twisted in a rage, his chest heaving as he marches straight toward the passenger side of Reid’s car. Two of his meathead friends get out right behind him, crossing their arms and looking around like they're looking for a fight.

Before Reid can even put the car back in park, Cole reaches down and yanks my passenger door wide open.

"Jami!" his voice roars, echoing off space.

I freeze completely, my breath catching in my throat as I turn to look at him.

"Get your ass out of the car," Cole snarls, reaching into the vehicle.

Before I can even move or say a word, his large, rough hand clamps down around my wrist, his grip tightening so hard it pinches my skin. He pulls backward, violently dragging me out of the leather seat and forcing me onto the hard pavement.

"Cole, stop! You're hurting me!" I cry out, trying to wrenched my wrist away, but his grip is like iron.

"Shut up," he barks, tossing me toward his friends like a piece of trash.