Brother's Friend Becomes My Baby's Dad

#Chapter 6: Retribution

“How did you do all this?” I asked Asher.

Asher shrugged. “Joseph uses the same, weak password for all of his social media accounts. You’d think someone with so much to hide might have taken a bigger interest in security. Hacking in was child’s play.”

It couldn’t have been as simple as he made it seem, but his easy confidence made me wonder if he was capable of anything he set his mind to.

“He’d added a couple hundred girls on his socials, some from the academy, some not. Reading his messages, it was pretty clear that the girls didn’t know about each other.”

Asher leaned against the wall, appearing relaxed except for the way his hands formed fists.

“He likes to sneak around with naïve girls that don’t know any better,” he said.

Is that how he thought of me? Naïve? But then, maybe I was. Or at least, I had been, before Joseph attacked me in his room.

I hugged my arms around my waist. I didn’t want to think about that.

“What are you really up to, Asher?” I asked. What was the purpose of bringing us all together? Did he expect us to bond somehow? Make friendships?

That seemed unlikely.

“Just wait and see,” he said, giving nothing away.

Asher had promised Dylan to protect me. So far, he’d been dedicated to that promise. I didn’t know what was going to happen tonight. But, if nothing else, I could trust Asher to keep me safe.

So I moved to the wall by his side and tried to relax as much as I could.

Then, a few male athletes entered the room, followed by Joseph himself. One of the athletes nodded at Asher. A second pressed a drink into Joseph’s hand. A third, behind Joseph, lifted a camera.

Along the far wall, a screen unfurled. A projector clicked on, and an image appeared on the screen – no, a broadcast. The camera behind Joseph’s shoulder now projected his every move.

“I told him this party is for him,” Asher said softly into my ear. “He thinks were all here to celebrate his success.”

I watched on the screen as Joseph drank deeply from his plastic cup. After lowering it, he flashed a bright grin and saddled up to one of the women in the room.

His low voice came through the speakers. “You come around here often, baby?”

The girl tilted her head, confused.

A few gasps sounded around the room. Someone dropped their drink. The volume of the music lowered.

Joseph didn’t seem to notice, leaning in closer to the girl. “If I tell you a secret, would you let me kiss you?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

My stomach twisted. He’d used that same line on me.

By the rising rabble of the crowd, I gathered that I wasn’t the only one.

The object of Joseph’s current desire scoffed at him, and Joseph finally started to look around. Eying the faces of the girls around him, recognition sparked on his features. His eyes went wide.

He started for the door but his movements slowed, sluggish. He dropped the drink he’d been holding. It splashed across the carpet.

“He’s not going anywhere,” Asher said.

I looked at him. “Did you drug his drink?”

Asher didn’t deny it.

Many girls closed in around Joseph, voices rising. The earlier laughter had entirely vanished. Now there was only arguing, shouting – anger.

“I’m his girlfriend!” one girl yelled.

“No. I am!” said another.

“Who are these women, Joseph?” one screamed in Joseph’s face, voice echoing through the speakers.

“Who are we?” someone replied. “Who are you?”

Yet the chaos cleared quickly, the more they argued. I expected the girls to start fighting each other, but to my surprise, they almost seemed to rally together against a common enemy.

Joseph.

The man who had lied to each and every one of them.

One girl slapped Joseph clean across his face, leaving an ugly red mark on his cheek.

I moved without thinking. My hatred powered my legs as I walked forward, pressing through the crowd. When I reached Joseph, he was barely holding himself upright.

“Cynthia,” he said, voice shaking and pathetic. “Cynthia, please. Mercy, please.”

Where was his mercy when he had shoved me down to the ground? When he had screamed in my face? When he had threatened our child?

He would find no mercy here.

I grabbed his shoulders and dug my fingernails into his skin, just as he had done to me. I leaned close to him and he whimpered.

“This is my revenge,” I said into his ear. Then I kneed in him hard in the groin.

He sucked in a sharp breath and collapsed.

I stepped backwards, disappearing into the crowd. Other girls quickly took my place.

Asher found me in an instant. With his hand on the small of my back, he guided me toward the exit.

In Asher’s dorm room, I sat at his desk and scrolled through the school forums. Posts were already flooding in, reporting on Joseph’s many infidelities. Some threads were going viral, with hundreds of responses by the minute.

Some had pictures. Aggrieved girls posted every ugly picture of Joseph they could find with cutting captions like, I can’t believe I wasted time on this trash.

Soon, videos poured in from the party. A few girls had kicked him when Joseph was down. Another gave him a black eye when he tried to stand.

He eventually slunk away to jeers and mocking laughter, to nurse his wounds in some secret corner alone.

It felt like a victory. Like revenge, properly delivered.

And it was all thanks to Asher.

Asher stood in the center of the room, watching me or watching the screen over my shoulder. I couldn’t tell which.

I owed him a proper thank you. Maybe more than that. So I stood and turned to him.

“I misunderstood you,” I said, lowering my head. “I’m sorry.”

His silence spoke volumes on its own. I hadn’t said enough.

“I should have known you weren’t like I’d heard. Dylan wouldn’t be friends with someone heartless.” Licking my lips, I chanced a glance upward. “Thank you for being like my big brother.”

Asher’s persistent silence became unnerving. “Big brother?” he echoed, brow raising.

He closed the distance between us in two large strides. I forced myself to freeze, not wanting to flinch away when I was trying to apologize.

He lifted a hand. I sucked in a breath.

Gently, he tucked a stray hair behind my ear. His fingertips trailed down the side of my neck, feather-light.

“Cynthia.” His low steady voice sent shivers down my spine. “I don’t want to be your big brother.”

Throat suddenly dry, I swallowed hard. “Then what do you want?” I whispered. I didn’t want to break the spell that kept his hand pressed softly to the corner of my neck and shoulder.

This was so unlike the Asher I knew. Where was the usual distance he kept?

But then, nothing else about tonight had been ordinary. Why should this?

 “Asher?” I was afraid he wouldn’t answer. Please don’t shut me out now.

The ice in his eyes began to thaw.

“Let me be the father of your child.”