Page 168 of His White Moonlight
“Will you tell me?”
“Will you promise not to do anything, no matter how small, without my approval first?”
He leaned forward, leaning his arms on his knees.
“I promise.”
“What pictures did Lindi show you?”
He got out his phone, tapped the screen a few times, and handed it to me.
I saw the texts from her.Simpering.Flirtatious.Finally, the pictures that the guys she’d paid to beat me up had taken with me.Their faces were cut off in each one.But not the rest of them.
The sight of the dick too close to my bloody face repulsed me, and I gave the phone back to Bennett.
“What was the story she gave?”
“Are the pictures real?”he asked.
“They are.”
Bennett looked down at the floor as his chair started to make clicking sounds due to the tremors running through his body.
“His dick didn’t stay there for long,” I said.“I was winded from running, fell, and pretended to be unconscious while they took the pictures.When I knew what they meant to do, I stopped pretending.I grabbed that bottle next to me on the ground—you can see it in the picture—broke it, and made them bleed before running again.”
I grabbed my cup to take a drink to soothe my throat.
“When did that happen?”
“End of sophmore year.”
“No one said you were hurt.”
“No one knew.The makeup Mom gave me that month went to good use.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face.
“Isent the makeup, Wrenly.Me.And the purses.And the clothes.I was so…oblivious.I thought you were thriving.Happy.What really happened?Where did all the things I sent go?Who hurt you enough that you know about broken ribs?”
“One thing at a time,” I said.“Let’s deal with last night first, okay?”
His shaking only got worse, though.I took another drink.
“The internet told me about the ribs.I thought one was broken at one point after a bad fall.It wasn’t, but I learned things.I learned a lot there, Bennett.Stuff that’s made me who I am.Now, if you want to know who’s responsible for what happened last night, you need to take a few breaths.”
Once he stopped shaking, I said, “Lindi arranged it.I don’t have the proof.But I think we can get it.She’s probably already wiped the surveillance footage and paid off the waiter who gave me the champagne.But you have more money and can smell a lie.Talk to the waiter.”
“What do you plan to do with the proof?”Bennett asked.“Drugging you probably won’t get her more than a year of jail time.”
“Even two days in jail are enough to ruin her reputation.That’s good enough for me.”
“Will it stop her from coming after you again?”he asked.
I considered what he was saying and shook my head.
“Did she hurt you in school?”
“Yes, Bennett,” I said in frustration.“She hurt me.Again and again and again.Directly and indirectly.Do you feel better having a name?I hope you sleep like an angel tonight.”
