Slow Burn (63 page)

“Okay,” I agree with a wince.  “Be discreet!”

He smirks at me before slipping out the door.  I lock it after him, then with just one longing look at the tub, I clean myself up as best as I can.  I dump my bra and panties in the urn-like wastebasket, then throw a bunch of toilet paper over them to hide the evidence.  I cannot believe I had bathroom sex!  I wait for the shame to hit me, but really, all I feel is a little embarrassed.  And very satisfied.  In fact, I can’t keep the grin off my face.

A soft knock on the door startles me out of my dirty thoughts.  Clutching my blouse together with one hand, I cautiously open the door with the other, peeking my head out.  I sigh in relief when I see Dean standing there. 

I step aside to let him in, and he does, locking the door behind him.  He hands me a shirt, long-sleeved, dark blue, and smelling like Ben’s cologne.  I take off my blouse and quickly slip into the shirt.  It’s long on me, but not too bad, and you can’t tell I’m braless underneath.  I still feel exposed, however, having nothing on under my skirt.  Ben may be a very good friend, but I’m not about to ask him if I can borrow a pair of boxers.  Ugh.

He’s
waiting for us in the hallway.  I freeze, my face warming with embarrassment when he gives me the exact same look I gave him when we caught him with Katerinka.  He bursts out laughing at my guilty expression.

“Bad tacos?”
he says with an impish smile.

“Must be an epidemic,” I mutter sheepishly.

Dean looks impatient when Ben continues to chuckle.  “What’s up?” he asks, turning to him with his eyebrows raised.

Ben’s laughter dies down, and he looks back and forth between the two of us.  “Have either of you checked your phones recently?  I’m guessing not.”

“What—oh, shit.”  Both hands go over my mouth as the blood drains from my face.  “She sent it, didn’t she?”

It’s happening.  I think I’m going to be sick.  I glance at Dean, who’s looking down at me in concern.  Numbly, I turn to Ben.  “Can I see your phone?”

He hands it over, a strange look on his face.  I look down at the screen, already open to a received video message from Kara.  The subject reads, “Dirty slut opens wide.”  My fingers are almost shaking too hard to push the play button.  I don’t know why I need to watch it when I already know what’s on it.  I feel Dean’s strong body against my back, steadying me.  He puts his hands on my hips, and watches over my shoulder.  Barely breathing, I tap the play button.

The video starts in the bathroom, focusing on the space through the cracked open door.  It goes out of focus for a second, then comes back much sharper.  Just like the video I watched, except—

The screen goes black for a second, and then…

The scene changes.  I blink in astonishment.  Instead of Dean and I getting it on, there’s Kara, sitting at a table and stuffing her face with a huge slice of pizza.  The video is shaky, and kind of blurry, but you can definitely tell it’s her…holy shit, she’s a total pig!
  After she devours the slice in a record-breaking amount of time, she goes after another piece.  There’s pizza sauce all over her chin, on one cheek, and on her forehead.

My mouth open, I look up at Ben.  “How…?”

Ben’s dark eyes are dancing with smug amusement, and he’s grinning his ass off.  “Don’t question genius.  But you can name your firstborn after me as payment.”

Dean and I exchange stunned, laughing looks.  “You switched the video instead of erasing it,” Dean says, the corners of his eyes crinkling up in amusement.  “Sneaky son of a bitch.”

“What I did was a little trickier than that, since I wanted to keep some of the original footage in the beginning.”  Ben gestures to himself proudly.  “Damn, it’s good to be me.  Now I wish I hadn’t thrown out my wand and fairy godmother badge.”

Chuckling, Dean slaps him on the back.  “I owe you, man.”

“Nah, I’ve been looking to get that bitch back.”  His face darkens.  “She gave Arianna a lot of shit last year.”

“Thank you!”

I spring forward and throw my arms around his neck.  “Seriously, Ben, I will definitely name my firstborn after you.  You.  Are.  Awesome!”

“Don’t I know it.”  He disentangles himself from my arms.  “But thank me in private—not when the big guy is staring daggers at me.”

I shoot a quick glance at Dean, who’s looking a little cranky.  I’m too relieved to care.  Smiling, I turn back to Ben.  “You’re gonna need to erase our sex video from your private collection, though.”

He scowls at me.  “Am I not allowed to have any fun?”
  Dean smacks the back of his head, and he flinches.  “Okay, okay!  I’ll erase it!”

I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off of me.  Dean and I leave Ben’s without saying goodbye to the other guys (the no underwear thing has me really self-conscious).  Dea
n looks really tired.  I shyly offer to take care of him at my house, but he doesn’t want me driving that far at night.

“Go to my house,”  he says
, letting his head fall back on the headrest of the passenger seat.  “Stay with me tonight.”

“Oh…um…”

“No one’s home,” he reassures me, keeping his eyes closed.  “And I want you in my bed.”

I quickly look away so he doesn’t see my little grimace.  I’m going to have to sleep all night on his horrible rock bed?  Well, I guess it’s worth it as long as he’s there.  I’ll just sleep mostly on top of him.

I text my mom to let her know that I’ll be at Dean’s for the night.  A few minutes later, she sends me a reply, saying to do what I want.  So…great.

As soon as we get to his house, I make a beeline for his room, and for the shower.  We take one together, too tired to do anything more than kiss.  Then Dean falls into bed, naked and exhausted.  As soon as I lie do
wn next to him, he passes out.  It takes me a few minutes to get comfortable, but being in his arms again is the best kind of heaven. 

I stare up at the stars on his ceiling until I eventually surrender to the weight of my eyelids.

******

Chapter 53

Dean wakes me up at about ten the next morning with a box of pastries from my favorite bakery—and a bag of stuff from my house! 

“When did you get all this?!” I exclaim, happily digging through my bag.  Yay, underwear!  And he even remembered my deodorant
and my lotion!  God, I love him.

“Just got back,” he says
, throwing his keys on his desk.  “Your mom wasn’t there.”

I’m already heading toward the bathroom, a blanket wrapped around me and my bag slung over one shoulder.  “That’s probably for the best,” I say without turning around.  “I’m going to jump in the shower.”

“Then we’ll talk.”

“Then we’ll talk,” I agree.

After a quick (for me) shower, I’m ready to tell Dean about my little talk with Kara.  He remains expressionless throughout my recounting, but then his lips twitch when I get to the part about punching her.  Maybe I’m a little too detailed, but it’s the part I remember most fondly.

And from the look on his face, I
think he’s enjoying the mental image.

“Are you sure about this?”

Dean shuts the engine, and turns to me with a searching look.  We’re in the par
king lot of the police station—and I really wish I hadn’t had so many pastries this morning.  They’re firmly wedged in my throat right now, about to make a second appearance.  Damn, why do I have to be a cryer
and
a puker? 

“Yeah,” I say finally, staring down at the flash drive in my hand.  “Let’s just get this over with.”

Dean opens his door, but before he gets out, he grabs my hand, and gives it a reassuring squeeze.  I smile shakily.  We can do this.

I realize that at some point we’d have to call our parents in, but I didn’t expect it to be so soon.  Dean’s father doesn’t answer, but Mom comes rushing down when she finds out I’m at the police station, and not at school.

It’s horrible—but not as bad as I feared.  Instead of being annoyed and ashamed of me, Mom shocks me by crying, and giving me a comforting hug.  At first, she sits stiffly, and won’t even look in Dean’s direction.  But as we talk with the detectives, and I explain everything Dean went through to protect me, she starts shooting him speculative looks
.  I think I detect a hint of warmth in her eyes.  At least, I’m hoping.

I don’t know if it’s good thing that the detectives are football fans, and treat Dean like the favorite son, clapping him on the back, and talking to him like they know him.  I guess it takes the focus off of me, and Dean takes their over-enthusiasm in stride.

“Wow, Dean Youngblood,” Detective Pacheco gushes, holding up the Styrofoam football Dean just autographed for him.  I want to laugh at how carefully he places it in a desk drawer.  “This is gonna be worth something some day.”

Yeah?  Probably not as much as Dean Youngblood’s sex video.  Ugh.

Despite their fanboy behavior, they seem like good cops.  They’re very thorough and detailed, which is both mortifying and reassuring.  Everyone’s very sympathetic, but I freak out when Dean reveals that Kara showed the video to Dalton Paley, and some guy named Eli—another one of her screw buddies.

“Did she just show it to them, or do they have copies?” I ask, dreading the answer.

“If they do have copies, they won’t be showing it to anyone else,” Detective Daniel says firmly.  He pats my hand.  “We have their names, and we’ll make sure the video doesn’t get out.  It ends here.”

I smile weakly in return. 
But I watch the news—I’ve read about cases where videos and pictures are leaked online, and go viral.  And the victims…their lives are completely ruined.  I don’t know if I can handle that, but I guess if it’s going to happen, then there’s nothing I can do to stop it.  Whatever happens, Kara and her cohorts have committed crimes, and they deserve to be punished accordingly.

My dad has to show up when we’re talking about the sex video, of
course.  He brings Michelle with him, whom I’m both shocked and pleased to see.  Michelle hugs both me and Mom, then proceeds to check out Dean.  Dad is also staring at Dean, but in a completely differently way.  My good-natured laid back father looks like he wants to tear my boyfriend in half.

“Why did you call him?” I mutter to Mom as Dad starts interrogating Dean like
he’s a suspect.  Detective Pacheco is trying to intervene, speaking in calm tones to Dad.

“He’s your father,” Mom replies with a shrug.  “He has a right to know.”

I stare after her as she walks over to Dad.  He whips around to look at her, his eyes bugging out.  She gestures toward the door, and with one last glare at Dean, he follows her out.  It’s the first time I’ve seen them together in years.  It’s kind of cool that they’re not fighting, even if they are discussing ways to keep me locked up until I go away for college.

“So, that’s Dean,” Michelle mutters in my ear, startling me.

I follow her gaze to him.  He’s talking with the detectives, tall and in control, and mature beyond his years.  Dad’s hostility doesn’t seem to faze him, and I’m proud of how respectful he is to both my parents.  He sees me looking at him, and his impassive expression transforms into something warm and intimate.

“Daaaaamn,” Michelle sings in my ear.  “Does he have a
n older brother?”

“Well, he has a stepbrother, but I dated him, too,” I point out wryly.

“Kinky, yet intriguing,” she muses, sounding like her old self.

I shake my head at her.  Now I know where I inherited my pervert gene! 

My parents come back in the room, and Dad is much more calm, thank goodness.  I don’t think he’s made the connection with Dean’s last name, but it looks like Mom enlightened him.  He’s looking at Dean now with a weird combination of wariness and embarrassment.  You know, I guess it’s a good thing that Dean’s father is a no-show.  I can just imagine the bloodshed that would occur.  I wonder if they know each other, and if Mr. Youngblood still holds a grudge.  If so, I hope Dean loves me enough to hold his father back. 
My
dad’s a lover, not a fighter.

Ugh, forget I said that.  A disgusting mental image of him and Cherise just popped into my head.
 

I slump into a chair,
suddenly completely exhausted.  Dean is immediately there, rubbing my back. 

“You okay?” he asks quietly.

“I’m fine, I just want this to be over with.”  I lean both elbows on the table, and rest my head in my hands.  “God, this is so humiliating.”

“Hey,” he says, and tilts my face up to his
.  “Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it.  I won’t let you get hurt again.”

I manage a feeble smile.  “What, are you gonna beat up everyone who gives me a hard time?”

“I have no problem with that,” Dean replies, completely serious.

That gets a laugh out of me.  “And what if it’s a girl?”

“Then I’m sure you’ll be able to handle yourself, slugger.”