Only With You (Knights #2)

52

JULIANNA

“How’s Jagger doing?” I ask as we step out of the bridal suite. I feel like such a jerk for not asking before, but Landon didn’t really give me a chance when he attacked my mouth.

He sighs exhaustedly. “On the court, he complained of elbow and neck pain and said his right arm felt numb. That’s why they used the backboard and stretcher. But when he got to the hospital, he said he felt a little better. I would’ve stayed with him, but I know he felt overwhelmed with everyone there, but Gabby said she’ll update us once she knows something.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing serious. I bet he’ll bounce back better than ever.” I smile at him as he holds the door open for me.

I walk past him, into the ballroom but freeze, fingers digging into the heels of my palm when the door closes behind us and we’re surrounded in nothing but pitch darkness.

“The lights.” My mouth dries and my heart races haphazardly. I want to move, run, and hide, but I feel cemented to the floor. My body weighed down and trapped. “Landon, the lights. We need to turn the lights on.”

“Stay fucking still. We’re just having fun.” His beer-tinted breath fans my face.

My chest grows tight, making it hard to breathe, my mind spirals with reminders of that night, and anxiety furiously stabs me.

“Julianna, it’s okay. I’m right here. I’m right here, Love. I’m right here.”

I don’t register that the lights are on until I feel his arms around me, holding me, grounding me, whispering over and over again that he’s here.

I blink repeatedly, snapping out of the nightmare, and painfully swallow.

My arms hang limply at my side and a few tears fall and gather around the chain I forgot I still have on.

“I-I,” I stutter, my body shaking against his. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.”

“Please don’t apologise. It’s okay, I’m here. I’d never let anything happen to you.” He tucks a knuckle underneath my chin, tips my head back, and wipes the tears that cling on my chin. “Okay?”

I shakily nod, my voice a suffocated whisper. “Okay.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, eyes drifting left and right for an exit. When I spot it, Landon looks over his shoulder and lets go of me.

“I’m sorry. I hope you don’t think that I was?—”

“No, no, it’s not you. It’s me. It’s my fault. I wasn’t careful enough. I was too trusting, too stupid. It’s my fault. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry,” I ramble, my voice quivers, and my body shakes as I recall that night like it was yesterday.

“Can I hug you?” he cautiously asks.

“Please.” I tried hard to conceal it, but when he holds me, I lose it and a sob rips from the back of my throat. I cry into his chest, my tears streaming down my face frantically.

I don’t know how long we stay here, but he keeps his arms firmly around me, his palm gently rubbing my back in circles until my sobs become soft hiccups.

“I’m sorry,” I croak.

He hugs me extra tight, his words enveloping me like a warm blanket. “Please don’t apologise. It’s not your fault.”

Shame eats me alive, a knot growing in my stomach.

I bury my face against his chest, fisting the bottom of his hoodie. “I went upstairs with him.”

My eyes water again, the bridge of my nose burning, but I manage to keep my voice even.

“I willingly went upstairs with him because I knew him.” I swallow back the bile that threatens to rise. “We met freshman year and he seemed nice. He never tried anything, so when I bumped into him and he noticed I wasn’t feeling well, he offered his room. I went with him because I thought I could trust him. I thought I’d be okay with him. But when we got to his room, he locked the door, turned the lights off, and he…” My vision blurs, my voice distant. “Got on top of me and…touched me everywhere, kissed me everywhere…I wanted to get out, but I was so dizzy, I couldn’t move and it was so dark. I couldn’t see the door. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him all over me. Sometimes, I still do…”

Anger rolls off his body, his heart beating dangerously fast. “Did he?—”

“No, he got distracted when someone knocked and I don’t know how, but I managed to stab his thigh with my heel and I ran.” I sardonically muse. “I’m so pathetic.”

“Julianna, don’t say that. You’re not?—”

“He didn’t rape me and I’m acting like he did!” I pull away from him, feeling disgusted with myself. “It’s my fault for trusting him. I mean, come on, I should’ve known better, right? I should’ve known, but I was naive, and now I’m terrified of the dark all because I was stupid, all because?—”

“You’re so strong.” He steps forward, hands cupping my neck, holding my stare. “You’re so fucking strong. I want you to know that. I want you to know it wasn’t your fault. You’re not stupid. You’re not naive. You’re nothing but strong, Julianna. I want you to believe that. I’m so sorry this happened to you, but I want you to know you’re not alone. I’m here, okay?”

“I feel so stupid,” I answer, feeling so hollow.

“You’re not. You’re so brave.” He kisses my forehead and embraces me. “You’re so brave,” he repeats gently.

“I don’t feel it. It happened two years ago and I still can’t seem to let it go.”

“It doesn’t matter how long ago it was. That piece of shit touched you. Do you want to talk to the police?”

I shake my head. “Who’d believe me? It happened so long ago and there’s no evidence he did anything. Plus, his father is a district attorney, so I’m sure you’ll know how that’ll go.”

He goes quiet for a moment, teeth grinding. “It was the guy from Liquid, wasn’t it? Cole?”

My chest constricts. “Yeah.”

“And he’s the one who gave you the drink?”

I think back to that night and shake my head. “No. He was nowhere near me or his friends. Matter of fact, I wasn’t near any guys. I was surrounded by my sorority sisters and I watched them pour my drink.”

I deflate every time I think about it because I’m still not sure how I could’ve gotten drugged. I had my hand over my cup and kept my eyes on it and close to me.

“And where the hell were they if you were with them?”

I pathetically shrug. “I don’t know. One minute, they were there, and then, they weren’t.”

Fury brims in his eyes, the tension evident in his shoulders, but then his expression softens. “I’m sorry this happened to you, Love, but thank you for telling me.”

“I should’ve said something, and for so long I wanted to, but sometimes I’d question whether it really happened. Sometimes, I’d wonder if it was all a figment of my imagination because it’s hard to grasp how it happened.” I interlock my clammy hands in hopes that they’ll stop shaking, but it only gets worse until Landon takes my hands in his. “But then the nightmares came, and in every one of them, I was trapped in a dark room, I’d hear the click of the door, and then he was on me. When I’d wake up, I could feel him, smell the alcohol on his breath, the sound of his zipper as he…” My voice quavers and cracks.

Licking my lips, thinking back to all the times I’d wake up in the middle of the night and shower in boiling hot water and scrub my body raw. I remember keeping the lights on after the first nightmare because I was terrified that he’d appear out of nowhere and actually do what he planned.

“That’s why I need the lights on, why I need to have an exit plan. Why I’m afraid, because he’s still out there and he taunts me because he knows I can’t remember that entire night. He knows I never said anything. It might also be that he doesn’t think he did anything wrong. At least, that’s what he said to me when we first ran into each other after it happened. And every time after that.”

Landon’s silence stretches, his face becoming scarily stoic, then a beat passes and he blinks.

“He’s not worth it,” I say, acknowledging what he’s thinking. “It’s been two years. No one is going to believe me.”

“What if I can get him to confess?” Anger douses his deep voice.

“Th-that’s not going to happen. He-he”—I hate how I stumble over my words, but Landon stares at me with nothing but patience—“he won’t admit anything. Especially now that we’re dating. He’s not going to say anything to you. Even if he does, how will that make a difference? I don’t think the police will do anything, and please don’t do anything to him. He’s not worth it.”

He hugs me, one hand cupping my head like he knows I need the pressure to stop my headache. “You’re worth it and I don’t want someone making you feel the way you do. I don’t want you to hurt, because when you do…I fucking hurt.”

An abundance of overwhelming emotions grips me, but not like the kind I was just experiencing. This is different, and when I look up at him and he down at me, I want to say those three words, but I swallow them back.

“How would you even do that? I don’t think he’d willingly open up to you.”

He satirically chuckles. “You’d be surprised. But I won’t do anything you don’t want, so if you don’t want me to do it, I won’t.”

I think about it for a moment. It might not make a difference, but maybe it’ll make a difference in another girl’s life.

“Do it.”