Page 6 of Wanted

A high school party with no parents.

Alcohol and drugs.

I drank too much and felt sick. Too sick.

He offered to help me to a bedroom to rest.

Then he didn't leave.

I reported the rape, and the next day I was pulled into a car, taken to the woods and beaten so badly I missed school for two weeks recovering.

I was blindfolded and couldn't identify the guilty.

But I knew.

I also learned my lessons that night.

1: Guys who offer to help always want something.

2: Snitches get stitches.

"Is everything okay, Miss Kassandra?" Leonard’s quiet voice yanked me from the past.

I blinked and shoved those memories back into the depths of my mind as far as I could. "Yes, everything is perfect." I said with all the charm I could muster. "But you don't need to drive me. I can drive myself. It'll be easier that way."

Leonard frowned. "I wouldn't hear of it. I shall drive you and be of assistance in any way I can, as instructed by the Count."

The tone of his voice and the way he worried his lip made me realize that he was desperate to do his job well, so I reluctantly conceded. But Jesus, this was not going to be a good scene if my dad was home and drunk.

And before I wasted another minute, I needed to warn Jeremy I wouldn't be living there anymore.

“Just give me one sec,” I said.

Leonard nodded and turned to afford me some privacy as once again, I texted madly into my phone.

Stay a few days with your friend. I got a job, but it's live-in. I'll keep you safe, I promise. Love you.

Jeremy responded at once, and his response broke my heart.

I can only stay maybe two nights before the parents get suspicious. What should I do after that?

Go to another friend's house?

I can't. No one else.

Shit.

I'll figure something out. Just don't go home while dad's there.

We made quick time to my house, and Leonard didn't raise an eyebrow at my neighborhood or my passed-out, drunk asshole of a father on the couch.

The butler followed me to my bedroom and stood at the door, almost as if on guard, as I threw everything I owned—which admittedly wasn't much—into a bag that I tossed over my shoulder. "Ready," I said.

"Is that all you wish to take?" he asked politely.

"It's all I own," I said. "So… yeah."

He nodded and with a gentlemanly nod of his head, took the bag from me and carried it down the hall.

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