I raise my hand, pausing for a deep breath before I knock on the door. Dear Melinda glares at me from above her glasses, a clipboard hugged tight to her chest. She interrupted my morning class with an apologetic the dean requests Miss Vaughn immediately aimed at the professor.
“Come in,” Harrison’s voice sounds from within her office.
She doesn’t sound annoyed, which I take as a good omen.
Dear Melinda stitched her mouth closed throughout our walk, but even though she hasn’t shared why I’ve been summoned, I have my suspicions.
I hope I’m wrong. Maybe my father sent a messenger pigeon. Given how paranoid he’s getting by the day about our phone calls, I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried out such an antiquated method.
Pushing the door open, I step inside the office where warm sunlight seeps in through floor-length windows. On my last visit, the sun was hidden behind thick, gray clouds, leaving the space shrouded in a dusky glow. Today, I squint, looking away from the windows as I close the heavy door behind me.
“You wanted to see me.” I adjust my bag, plodding across the room. “Is everything okay?”
“Not quite. Take a seat, Miss Vaughn.”
I slip into the chair facing Dr. Harrison, placing my bag over my knees, my usual confidence wavering. It’s been slowly ebbing away since I got here. Well, that’s not true. It’s been ebbing away since my memories started snowballing.
“You seem to have forgotten about the rules we discussed when you first arrived,” F starts, twisting a yellow pencil between her slender fingers. “I specifically remember mentioning the need for a permission slip if you ever wanted to leave the premises.”
“You did. You also claimed that rule applies to all students, which isn’t the case.”
A stern expression creases her lined face. “I must’ve misspoken. Let me rephrase. While there are rules that apply to all students, there are also rules put in place for the chosen few. Your father specifically requested that you remain on campus at all times. He trusts me to keep you safe, and your escapade put a dent in that trust.”
My first instinct is to apologize… it evaporates quickly, replaced by another swift kick in the gut.
Dad lied again.
Well… technically he made the dean lie, but technicalities. I grind my teeth, my trust in him and his words flaking further to leave a fog of questions.
Questions he won’t answer.
“How do you know I went off campus?” I ask, wiping my palms down my front. “There was no one at the gate.”
Harrison pinches her lips, dragging her laptop closer. She clicks a few buttons, then turns the screen my way, showing me a black and white still from the security footage. There I am, riding shotgun in Nash’s car as we pass the Lakeside boundary.
“Cameras,” I state, swallowing hard. “I would’ve appreciated knowing that my every move here is under surveillance.”
“It’s in your orientation guide. Page twenty under the heading Campus Security.” She inhales deeply, her tone turning almost motherly, though laden with authority.” Hailey… why did you feel the need to leave the grounds? Is there something we didn’t provide?”
“Stationery. My memories are returning and Dad thought writing them down could help.”
Harrison bobs her head up and down slowly, reaching into her desk drawer. She tosses a journal and a pack of pens across the desk. “Next time, ask.”
“You weren’t here on Saturday, and I needed—”
“You are not an impatient child who can’t wait a day for a journal, Miss Vaughn,” she clips, a vein pulsing in her neck. “I know this isn’t ideal, but I’m afraid you’re not allowed to leave the premises without my prior permission.” She laces her fingers together, simultaneously squaring her shoulders. “It’s for your safety. Can I trust that you’ll follow the rules?”
Absolutely not.
This is a violation of my rights no matter how noble Dad’s intentions.
“So I’m a prisoner here?” I ask, the words leaping out before I can stop them.
If she thinks I’m rebelling, she’ll tighten the security.
“Your cooperation isn’t optional, Miss Vaughn,” she seethes, raising both hands to massage her temples. “You will stay on campus until your father grants you more freedom. Is that clear?”
I bite back my retaliation. She’s close to losing her shit and I don’t want to deal with the aftermath.
At the end of the day, she’s the messenger.
My father’s imposing these rules and I bet he’s paying good money so Dr. Harrison enforces them.
Deep down, I know he must have good reason to keep me cooped up. He’s already hinted that I’m in some kind of danger. His jitteriness over the phone confirms it.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
I want to trust his judgment like I have done my entire life, but trust is hard to muster when all he does is ration my information or outright lie to me. Even harder when my stomach ties into elaborate knots whenever I discover yet another safety measure confirming the danger is real.
“Is that clear?” Harrison repeats, her tone biting, eyes boring into mine.
I’m in the dark, unable to protect myself from an enemy I don’t know, but I offer her a single nod. “Is that all?”
“For now. Go back to class, Hailey.”
◆◆◆
The water ripples around Nash as more of his torso resurfaces from the depths of the dark lake. He steps closer to where I sit at the edge of the boat platform, eyes on mine, not a trace of the cold, arrogant sneer I’ve grown used to by now.
He stops right between my legs, peering up. The heat of his gaze gives me a fever.
“What are you doing?” I whisper as he brings both hands to my knees, the coldness a stark contrast against my burning skin.
He doesn’t speak. Holding my eyes hostage, he drags his big hands up, cupping my thighs. My pulse accelerates when his fingers brush the denim hem of my pinafore dress. Instead of pushing his fingers under it, he moves his hands over the fabric, higher still. My pulse whooshes in my ears once he reaches my hips.
“Nash,” I hum, every part of me ready and willing.
My panties are damp, my skin prickles, and my breath catches in my throat as he gently clutches my waist.
“It’s cold, pretty girl,” he warns, dragging me closer to the edge of the boat platform. “But I’ll keep you warm.”
Swallowing the desire clogging my throat, I nod, zeroing in on his full lips. Nash lifts me as if I weigh nothing and slowly eases me into the lake. His muscles shift with the strain while a soft tremble shakes me the second my white sneakers break the surface, cold water enveloping my legs inch by inch.
“My dress…” I stammer as a chill seeps into my submerged hips.
“It’ll dry,” Nash says once I feel the bottom of the lake.
He doesn’t let me go like I expected… he pulls me in closer. Lifting one hand, he traces a gentle path with his knuckles from my temple to my jaw, the intensity of his hungry eyes obliterating the chill.
“Now what?” I ask, staring at his chest, a pang of confusion twisting my gut.
I swear most of his upper body was covered in ink, but it’s just pale skin now.
The muscles are here, but they look smaller, somehow. A frown twists my face when I glance lower and find we’re not in the water. We’re on a tiled floor, the room bright and warm, not a trace of the dark lake.
I drag my eyes back up, growing even more confused when I find he’s wearing a white t-shirt. And my heart somersaults as I meet blue eyes.
Not brown.
Blue.
A gasp shoots from my lips and my eyes pop open. It was just a dream…
Just a nightmare.
I’m awake but everything’s bright. Blurry. I’m not in my dorm room. Not in bed. I’m in the past.
“Now you kneel,” Alex grunts, shoving me down until my knees hit tile. “I’ve been waiting for this all day, Hailey.”
“Alex, please… Dad could come back any minute.”
I frantically look around, my heart in my throat. Everything’s distorted but I think we’re in a kitchen, the harsh brightness in stark contrast to the darkness that shrouded the lake.
My eyes hurt. My heart ricochets off my ribs like it’s trying to break free. Light should be safe. Calm. Serene. It’s the darkness that swallows joy and amplifies fear. It’s darkness where danger waits but here, light isn’t safe. Here, light brings fear. Fear, humiliation, and resignation.
Darkness was safe.
Nash was safe.
And Alex… he feels like a threat.
“You have about ten minutes before Charlie gets home.”
“What if—”
“Get. To. Work,” he seethes. “You suck, I watch the driveway.” He grabs the counter behind me with both hands, leaning forward. “Go on, sweetheart. My balls are so fucking full it’s uncomfortable.”
My mind rebels. I’m not sure if it rebels in the past or present, but everything inside me screams. I want to shove him back. I want to run. I want to kick and scream, but I can’t.
I watch my hands rise, deftly working his belt, then zipper, and the paralyzing helplessness weighs me down like a lead blanket. I try to scream, cry, reach out, but nothing happens. The memory can’t be altered. It plays out before my eyes while I’m desperately trying to shut it off.
I’m awake, I know I am, this isn’t a dream. Why can’t I do anything? Why can’t I stop it?
I yank Alex’s jeans lower, then boxers, a musky scent invading my nose as I grasp his warm half-limp cock.
“There you go,” Alex moans. “Open your mouth.”
Bile churns in my stomach. I follow his order, or try at least, but nothing happens. The brightness dies down and I’m shrouded in darkness. Back in my dorm room, safe in the present.
I try sitting up, panic rising in my chest when I can’t move even one fucking finger… nothing works.
My body’s not responding.
A pained whimper vibrates across my vocal cords. It’s audible, ringing in the silent room like a bell. My breaths rasp faster the harder I fight against the invisible force holding me down.
Not now… not again…
The room is dark, the only light a faint line across the ceiling where the moon’s soft glow seeps through the cracked curtains. I’m safe. Far away from Alex.
I don’t feel safe, though. I feel trapped.
Every nerve in my body screams for relief but every muscle is harder than stone, seized and cramping.
More whimpers fill the room, sounds I can’t control. So distressed they only deepen my panic. The more I fight the paralysis, the heavier the weight holding me immobile. Sweat beads at my hairline. My heart gallops, bruising my ribs and it hurts so much that hot tears sting my eyes. My throat burns like I’ve been screaming for hours.
“Stay calm. Slow your breathing, Hailey.” A teaching from years ago zaps through my mind. “On the count of four, okay? Breathe in.” Dr. Seymour taps his big finger against the table four times. “Now breath out. It won’t be easy to remember this at night when you’re scared, but when you calm your breathing, it will help. I promise.”
I inhale sharply and hold my breath, counting the same way I did almost every night when I was a little girl.
One.
Two.
My concentration wavers when my mind replays the flashback. The force Alex used to shove me to my knees, the tone of his voice… his cock inches from my lips.
A tear slides across my face, pooling in my ear, the sensation refocusing my mind. I concentrate, breathing in, and try wiggling one fingertip before I breathe out, desperate for any sensation.
One, two, three, four.
One, two, three, four.
I don’t stop. Over and over, I count, slowly calming my heartrate.
One, two, three four.
My hand jerks and a tingling sensation floods my veins, rushing across every inch of my skin like fire in dry grass.
Another whimper fills the room, softer as relief annihilates fear. The weight on my chest lessens and within seconds I’m curled up, trembling on the bed.
My face is wet with relieved tears. The paralysis is gone… but the hollowness invoked by the flashback remains.
