Chapter 165 (1/2)

“You said you were . . . and that gave someone an idea—”

“Gave who the idea?” Molly interrupts.

“Me . . . gave me the idea,” he admits. His eyes never leave mine. Which doesn’t make this any easier. “That . . . it could be fun to make . . . to make a bet.” His head falls, and tears pour from my eyes.

“No,” I choke and take a step backward.

Confusion rams into my already-jumbled thoughts, disrupting any attempt to make sense of them, to make sense of what I’m hearing. Confusion is quickly replaced by a burning mixture of pain and anger. All of the memories flooding through me pile and piece together . . .

“Stay away from him.” “Be careful.” “Sometimes you think you know people, but you don’t.” “But Tessa, I need to tell you something.”

All of the small remarks that were made by Molly, Jace, and even Hardin himself play over and over. There was always something in the back of my mind, a feeling that I was missing something. All of the air seems to be sucked out of the small room, and I find myself almost gasping as the reality of all this sets in. There were so many clues; I just was too blinded by Hardin to see them.

Why would he take it this far? To have me live with him?

“You knew?” I turn to Steph. I can’t look at Hardin any longer.

“I . . . I was going to tell you so many times, Tess,” she says, her eyes brimming with guilty tears.

“I didn’t believe it when he claimed he won, even with the condom,” Jace snickers, enjoying the show.

“Right? Me, either! The sheets, though. I mean, how can you deny blood on the sheets!” Molly laughs.

The sheets. That’s why they were still in his car . . .

I know I should be saying something, anything, but I can’t find my voice. Everything is still moving around me; people in the bar are eating and drinking, not noticing the naïve girl ten feet away from them having her heart shattered. How is it possible that time still moves as I stand here watching Tristan bow his head, watching Steph cry, and, most of all, watching Hardin watch me.