Retrocognition

54 | dying

Attending a party at the time seems morbid, yet I have no choice in the matter.

When Jacob asks me to go with him—just as I knew he would—I'm unable to tell him no. At this point, I've become rather accustomed to doing whatever Jacob requests of me. Not to mention, I'd been prepared to go out and meet him here tonight. It's all a part of a bigger plan, one that will hopefully end with Jacob behind bars and getting Naomi the justice she rightfully deserves.

The frat house has an ominous feel to it now that I know exactly what took place just up the staircase. My skin crawls as I think back to the night Jacob took me to sit on the rooftop and gaze at the stars before getting me into bed with him. Somehow, I'm certain that had been the exact room he had lured Naomi into the night she passed. The thought leaves me feeling sick as remnants of the horrid hallucination of a heavy body atop mine haunt my memory.

Jacob scours the house, moving from room to room as he mingles with friends and teammates. I follow after him wherever he goes, as if I am nothing more than his shadow. I can tell I'm pleasing him, however, as Jacob keeps one arm wrapped around my shoulders the entire night—his free hand constantly holding a drink.

It doesn't take long for him to become tipsy. Normally, I'd monitor his alcohol consumption, though tonight I don't comment on his fast-paced drinking. Knowing Jacob is on the road to intoxication worries me, though I force myself to calm down by recalling that Zach is somewhere nearby, carefully watching to make sure nothing gets too out of hand. I have given him permission to step in if anything between Jacob and I gets dangerous, though I often find myself wondering if agreeing to that may have been a mistake. The last thing I want to do is drag Zach into my issues and see him get hurt. After all, I'm the one who is refusing to take the information the two of us combined have on Jacob to the police yet. I'm the one who came up with the plan to get Jacob to confess before telling anyone what we know. He's only complying to help me out.

For a fraction of a second, my chest fills with warmth. Despite the wariness I first had when it came to Zach, he really has proven himself to be a decent guy. I'm suddenly very thankful to know him and to have him by my side, even if I feel guilty for dragging him into this mess I have gotten the two of us into.

Minutes pass, soon turning into an hour. I don't pour myself even one drink, though if Jacob notices my sobriety he doesn't point it out. I force myself to get through the night sober, no matter how intolerable it may become.

"You look good," Jacob whispers to me as we find ourselves alone for the first time since the night started, standing in the corner of the crowded living room together. His words slur slightly, indicating he's already had more than enough to drink. "Have I told you that yet?"

I shake my head, trying to keep my expression light. I don't want to do anything that may potentially set Jacob off, though I'm certain he wouldn't risk losing it on me in front of a crowd. He seems to prefer to keep the darkness within him hidden, only showing his true colors in moments of privacy.

"Well, you do," Jacob retorts, sidling in closer to me. His hand roams my waist, lowering before settling on my ass, giving my flesh a slight squeeze. I'm wearing a tight black dress—one that Jacob had previously commented he liked seeing me in. On top of this, I've brought out my facial features with the type of makeup Jacob finds attractive. Anything I can do to please him, I pounce on.

"Is that so?" I question in my most flirtatious tone, leaning in closer to him. It kills me to do so. Just being in his presence makes me want to break down in tears, yet I force myself to act as natural as I can. I need him to trust me. I need him to confess what he did to Naomi. I need it more than anything.

So I put on a show, faking happiness to the best of my ability. When he touches me, I pretend I'm enjoying it. When he whispers in my ear, I act as if I like it. I allow him to press his lips to my skin, to jerk my hips toward his body and use me however he wants. I pretend I don't care that he's doing all of this in front of a crowd, merely pursing my lips and dealing with it all the best that I can.

I wrap my arms around Jacob's neck and press my body up against his, kissing him deeply. I swallow down the bile rising in my throat when his tongue enters my mouth, refusing to allow my thoughts to wander to dangerous territory. I hold back tears as his hands roam my figure, doing all of the right things at just the right times to make it seem as if I'm even slightly into what is happening.

But deep down, I feel as if I am slowly dying at the hands of someone who was supposed to love me.