Sugar Rush (Sugar Bowl #2) - Sawyer Bennett Page 0,84

and says, “Spill it.”

I take a deep breath, hold Caroline’s eyes with my own in a steady gaze, and start to tell her the story. “A little over ten years ago, Sela was raped by JT. It’s why we invited you over tonight. She was going to tell you, so . . . you know . . . you would have someone you could talk to if you wanted.”

“What?” Caroline gasps, jerking backward until she’s sitting ramrod straight.

I nod. “He drugged and raped her, along with two other guys. She didn’t know it was him at the time, but not long ago identified him by the tattoo on his ribs.”

“What tattoo?” she asks curiously.

“A red phoenix. Same one I have . . . I mean had on the back of my shoulder.”

“Was it a fraternity thing?” she asks, as she knows the origin of my phoenix.

“Not sure,” I tell her truthfully, but then try to steer her back to the full story. Because she’s only got the very tip of the iceberg. “But she came after JT looking for revenge. Met me instead, and well . . . you know, things developed. She eventually told me the truth about JT.”

“Jesus,” she mutters. “What did you do?”

“You don’t want to know,” I say, dropping my gaze to my lap.

“Uh . . . yes, I do. Are you in trouble? Is she in trouble?”

My eyes drag up to hers, miserable with worry. “Sela plans to go to the police. But first we wanted him out of The Sugar Bowl. Wanted to make the break before he gets arrested so the company could be salvaged.”

“And just how did you plan to get him out?” she asks, her voice laced with fear.

“I had him investigated. Found out he owed a lot of money to a bookie and that he doubled down on a UFC fight. I paid one of the fighters to take a dive and now JT owes more money than he has. I offered to bail him out if he signs over the rights to the company.”

“Goddamn it, Beck,” Caroline yells as she surges out of her seat, then immediately lowers her voice after her eyes dart to the door. “That is some serious fucking criminal shit you just did.”

“I know,” I say as I sink further into the chair, clasping my hands tight. “But save the lecture right now. I’m worried about Sela because she’s supposed to be here and she’s not, and she won’t answer or return my calls. Something’s wrong.”

“You think it has to do with JT?” she whispers.

“I don’t know,” I say angrily, standing up from my chair. “I just know that his deadline to pay the money is looming and he should have given me an answer by now. Couple that with Sela being missing, and I don’t know what the fuck to think.”

“Okay, calm down,” Caroline says as she folds her arms across her chest and starts pacing in front of my desk. “Maybe you should call JT. Just casual call, ask him if he’s made a decision.”

“Maybe,” I say, because the thought had crossed my mind. I can’t even imagine why Sela would be with him, or his having anything to do with her being missing, but still . . . that might help ease my mind.

“Just call him right now,” Caroline urges.

“Okay,” I say, and pull my phone from my pocket. Just as I pull up JT’s contact and start to select it, the doorknob to my office rattles and starts to turn. Caroline and I immediately face the door, prepared for Ally to nose her way in to see what we’re doing.

Instead, when the door slowly swings open, Sela’s standing there.

Prickles of icy fear sling slide my spine and my heart starts thundering. She’s wearing an oversized gray zippered sweatshirt pulled tight around her, one arm held protectively over her stomach. The hood is pulled up over her head and her shoulders are hunched. While much of her face is in shadows, I can see that her eyes are dead and her skin is ghost white.

“Sela?” I say hesitantly, terrified by her sudden presence and odd clothing.

She steps into the office, eyes cutting to Caroline before coming back to me with abject misery clouding her blue irises. She slowly shuts the door behind her, takes a step toward me, and lets out a tiny sob.

“What’s happened?” I say as I round the guest chairs and rush to her. Her head drops so I’m only staring at the top of the sweatshirt hood, and I can see her body shaking fiercely. My hands go to the sides of her head and I tilt it upward. With my fingers, I peel the hood backward and gasp when I see Sela’s face in its entirety.

Her eyes are bloodshot with tears leaking out and running in rivulets down her face. There’s a smear of blood on her jaw and purple marks on her neck.

“What the fuck?” I curse low and my hands pull the sweatshirt apart at the neckline.

Caroline gasps behind me when I open the thick gray material wide.

I stare in utter horror at Sela’s white long sleeved T-shirt that is drenched in blood on the front, most of it dried but with a few patches of shiny wet sticking to her skin. Small spatters spray outward to the shoulders and up her throat, which I can now see is covered in a thick horizontal bruise across the bottom of her throat.

“Fuck, Sela,” I say, feeling my eyes start to water. “How badly are you injured? Where did all this blood come from?”

Sela shakes her head vigorously from side to side as she pulls her hand away. Her face tilts up and her eyes meet mine with such sadness I think my knees might buckle.

“Not mine,” she says, her voice raspy and filled with pain I’m guessing is from that bruise on her throat.

My eyes cut to Caroline, who stands there with her hand over her mouth, eyes drowning with intense worry. When I look back to Sela, she gives a cough and says, “JT. The blood is JT’s.”

My stomach bottoms out, and even as horrified as I am by what she’s just said to me, I’m filled with so much relief that she’s safe that I pull her into my arms, not caring about the blood all over her.

Resting my chin on top of her head as my arms hold her gently, I whisper to no one in particular and expecting no answer in return, “Oh, Sela. What have you done?”

Thank you Sue, Gina, and Matt for taking a chance on me and continuing to make me a better author with each book we put out.