After We Collided (After, #2) by Anna Todd Read Online (FREE)
It took longer than a month,” I sob as Zed finishes explaining how the bet came to be made. I feel sick to my stomach, and I close my eyes to get some relief.
“I know. He kept coming up with excuses and he kept asking for more time and he’d lower the amount he was supposed to get. It was weird. We all just thought he was obsessed with winning—like to prove a point or something—but now I get it.” Zed stops talking for a second, and his eyes scan my face. “It was all he talked about. Then, that day when I invited you to the movies, he flipped out. After he dropped you back off, he totally flipped shit on me and said I had to stay away from you. But I just laughed it off, because I thought he was drunk.”
“Did he . . . did he tell you about the stream? And the . . . other stuff?” I hold my breath as I ask. The pity in his eyes answers me. “Oh my God.” I put my hands over my face.
“He told us everything . . . I mean everything . . .” he says in a low voice.
I stay quiet and turn off my phone. It hasn’t stopped vibrating since I left the bar. He has no right to be calling me.
“Where’s your new dorm?” Zed asks, and I notice we’re near campus.
“I don’t live in a dorm. Hardin and I . . .” I can barely finish my sentence. “He convinced me to move in with him, just a week ago.”
“He didn’t,” Zed gasps.
“He did. He’s so beyond . . . he’s j-just . . .” I stutter, unable to come up with a fitting word for his cruelty.
“I didn’t know it was going this far. I thought once we saw the . . . you know, the proof . . . he’d be back to normal, seeing a different girl every night. But then he disappeared. He’s barely come around us at all, except the other night he showed up at the docks and was trying to get Jace and me to agree not to tell you. He offered Jace a shitload of money to keep quiet.”
“Money?” I say. Hardin couldn’t be lower. The space inside Zed’s truck grows smaller with each sickening revelation.
“Yeah. Jace laughed it off, of course, and told Hardin he would keep his mouth shut.”
“And you didn’t?” I ask, remembering Hardin’s busted knuckles and Zed’s face.
“Not exactly . . . I told him that if he didn’t tell you soon, I would. He didn’t like that idea, obviously,” he says, and waves at his face. “If it makes you feel any better, I do think he cares about you.”
“He doesn’t. And if he does, it doesn’t matter,” I say, and lay my head against the window.
Every kiss and touch have been shared among Hardin’s friends, every moment on display. My most intimate moments. My only intimate moments aren’t mine at all.