After I told my parents that I'd been sexually assaulted by Ryder Stevens when I was only fourteen, they reacted worse than I'd feared. Among their overreactions, they forced my attendance at a self-defense class, which Harper willingly attended with me. My complete lack of coordination and strength, which had only improved slightly in college, definitely put me at a disadvantage, no matter the size difference. To no one's surprise, Harper performed circles around me on the exercise mats, but I still successfully completed the class.

Unfortunately, all the information we'd learned about pressure points and nerve contact strikes dissolved into mental dust within my completely blank mind the second a rough, calloused hand enclosed around my wrist and yanked me into a dark room, unfamiliar room.

The faint smell of removed catered food hung in the air as my eyes squinted and searched the dark for any signs of where I was. My hands fumbled through empty airspace while my feet shuffled friction lines over what felt like rough carpet.

Not a supply closet, where am I?

Once the soft door click hit my ears, followed by a stronger lock bolted shut, I blinked under the light adjustment and gaped at who'd dragged me in here.

A tall, muscular man with cropped black hair gelled back off his forehead and lined with gray around his ears turned his broad shoulders. Pensive brown eyes narrowed as they roamed over me like he searched me for an unspoken answer and one of his thumbs absently stroked over his sharp jawline.

While I hadn't seen him in years and certainly never in clothes as casual as black dress pants under a white polo shirt pulled tight around the muscles underneath, a chill started between my shoulder blades and trickled down my spine like droplets of water. Upon his recognition, my body sank in retraction, like I was dragged down stronger by gravity.

The hell is Mr. Stevens doing here!?

"Y-you?" I sputtered out the word and instinctively slipped my hand into my front jeans' pocket, where the security of my phone sat.

"Take her phone, John," an icy female voice spoke up, which spread the chill sensation over the skin down my arms as a trail of goosebumps crept up from my shoulders down to the back of my hands.

My eyes moved in slow motion and the black walls around us closed in on me as I took in the presence of two more tall figures. A woman and younger man stood near the far corner of what I vaguely recognized as a VIP box office. A row of gray leather recliner seats faced the open field, which tempted me with relief that was instantly distinguished when the field-level lights shut off.

I flinched at a brushed, patted contact over my thighs and before I reacted, Mr. Stevens withdrew my phone, which buzzed repeatedly until his large index finger turned it off. Tension squeezed me internally, from the sides of my throat to the muscle fibers stretched across my chest, even my thighs clenched inward as I shrank backwards until my head and heels hit a hard wall.

"Eleanor, don't look so surprised to see us," added the woman I recognized anywhere, dressed in an impeccable crisp, white shirt and black dress pants that looked perfectly tailored to her tall, trim figure.

Layers of gold necklaces laid on the V-shaped crevice created from her sharp neckline and coordinated with the gold and diamond pendant earrings threaded through her ears. Her brown hair shone like glass and was cut blunt to her shoulders. Even sharper was the gaze her brown eyes bored into me behind her thick winged eye makeup. Her crimson-red lips were twisted into a scowl, as if my presence was not only unwelcome but offended her.

Mrs. Stevens, which means -

My breath stalled at the tall man behind her, the same broad shoulders as his dad tensed as he crossed his muscular arms over his broad chest. The same brown eyes as his mother glared at me and his brown hair was longer and disheveled around his ears. A slight collection of freckles dotted across a nose bent enough out of alignment that showed it'd been broken more than once. The way my pulse thundered in my ears reminded me that one of those occasions was from Jake's fists.

"Aww, Mom," Ryder groaned quietly and glared at me without a blink. "She prefers Ellie... Isn't that right, Ellie?"

Tension spread up through my wrists as my hands balled into tight fists at my sides. "That's not going to work anymore," I warned him not to goad me about my name. "I-I'm not afraid of you."

"No one's asking you to be afraid, Eleanor," Mrs. Stevens pinched two perfectly French manicured nails into the bridge of her nose. "All we wanted was you to be silent. Wasn't asking much, apparently a million dollars wasn't enough either... So either you're greedy for more or just incredibly stupid."

"I didn't ask to be pulled into court -" I started when three steps of her five-inch heels brought both of her palms smacked into the walls outside my shoulders. My spine flinched under the close proximity, where her rose-scented perfume permeated into and burned the insides of my nose.

"But after ruining my son's life, you just can't stay away from the quarterbacks, can you Eleanor?" Her lips curled upwards into a sneer and her ice glared at me like daggers. "Like some kind of fame whore, you just have to draw attention towards yourself. You forgot Eleanor, we bought your silence."

"I n-never -" I stammered as nerves shredded what little confidence remained inside me. Under the weight of her glare, the disgust that rolled off her in waves with each breath that passed, I'd never felt smaller.

"You'll never understand the love that exists between a mother and a son," she scoffed quietly as her eyes stared down into mine. "Especially one who's been unfairly targeted by a jersey-chasing little slut."

My lips parted but snapped shut like a trap when she leaned in closer until her breath fanned over my nose and cheeks. "Testify in court against my son, Eleanor, and I will destroy your name, your pathetic life, your brother's life, and your boyfriend's life. Like you've done to my son, I will drag your brother's name down into legal hell for assault and battery against my son. I will bankrupt your mother so she has to sell that pathetic little Santa Cruz house to pay for his legal fees."

With one step closer, her stiletto heel crushed into my left foot and I gasped at the pain that radiated as she applied more pressure with each enunciated word. "I will put your boyfriend behind bars for sleeping with a minor. His mother and brother will be out on the streets from fighting his legal battles. All because you couldn't keep your... little... mouth... shut."

In the silence that followed, I swallowed hard against the lump that swelled up in my throat, choked off both my air supply and words until my lungs burned, and rendered me speechless. Only a rough cough escaped me as my eyes studied every detail of her face.

Beneath the perfect makeup application, the layers of foundation and cheek contours, I saw a slight puffiness under her eyes, worry lines curved around the corners of her mouth, and the slight red striations in the corners of her eyes.

My gaze shifted over her shoulder, where Ryder stood, his chin dipped low and eyes shot venomous daggers in my direction. Yet the more I looked, the more I saw his eye shadows, hollowed cheeks, and slight gray tint over his skin.

"You're scared," I whispered so quietly that Mrs. Stevens leaned in closer.

They're scared... of me. Me.

The more I looked, more of the veil of control that shrouded over this family slipped away, their hold over me lessened, and the power their words inflicted on me diminished. Like a dimly lit candle, a warm glow spread through me, rose up from deep inside my gut, up my throat, and left my parted lips not in the form of an insult, witty comeback, or even clever remark, but a laugh.

The bones in my shoulders rattled as my head tipped back and one hearty laugh after another poured out of my mouth. Like an idiot, I laughed until my left side stitched under my ribs and tears pricked the corners of my eyes. With nearly identical reactions of initial confusion that shifted into annoyance only hardened my laughter until I sounded like a complete psychopath.

"Y-you're desperate," I choked out between laughs and subdued them with ragged, deep breaths. "I will not lie under oath in court, no matter how much money or threats you throw at me."

"No one asked that from you, Eleanor. We have an alternative." With a dismissive wave of her hand, Mrs. Stevens reached one hand behind her, which Mr. Stevens slapped a few papers into. "Under penal code one-hundred-eighteen-P-C and no shred of evidence to back up your ridiculously false allegations, we'll charge you with perjury. You'll be convicted as a felon, Eleanor, with fines you can't afford and up to four years in prison."

While mentally my mind had more than one sarcastic response, I just rolled my lips inward and figured the safest, least incriminating possibility was whatever option got me out of this room the fastest.

I hated the way my voice wavered as I asked, "Wuh-what do you want from me?"

"Nonexistence, Eleanor," she replied quickly with a look of recognition in her eyes that she'd already laid out a plan of legal action. "File a motion to challenge your subpoena on the grounds of an undue burden. I've already sent the forms to Mr. Reynolds office, they just need your signature. You avoid court attention, walk away free as can be, and move on with your pathetic life in Seattle. Your brother's and boyfriend's pasts stay buried, all you need is one call to Mr. Reynolds and this is wiped clean."

The skin on the back of my neck pricked with goosebumps since I remembered a similar promise after the NDA was signed.

"I... will speak to him." I averted my eye contact and dipped my chin down into my chest.

"Good," was the curt response as Mrs. Stevens pushed herself off the wall, then smoothed her hands over her waist. From under my lashes, I caught a flash of a smile spread across her lips when she finally stepped off my foot. "We'll give you twenty-four hours to make the right decision. John, give her phone back, Ryder... Let's go."

At that, Mr. Stevens opened the door and dropped my phone at my feet. While I kept my eyes down and slid it between my feet, the weight of the room's gaze pressed down on me. My lashes fluttered as I blinked back hot tears that formed when the sound of shuffled feet passed me.

Ryder paused when one of his feet, nearly one and half times bigger than mine, paused next to me. Trembles vibrated my lower lip when his thumb pinched under my chin and lifted my face upwards. The same dark look in his eyes that haunted my nightmares for years stared down at me but the only response I felt was a raw, pure form of disgust intertwined with hatred.

"Such fire in your eyes now, Ellie," he whispered and swept his thumb around the outline of my lips.

The featherlike touch overwhelmed my senses and internally my mind reeled at the reminder of his unfulfilled promise but externally all the muscles in my arms and legs locked up. In a moment of fight or flight, I hated my own body for its chosen reaction. With all the strength I gathered, I reared my head back with a yank.

Ryder's jaw clenched tightly, followed by his thumb's grasp on my chin. My stomach lurched involuntarily when his other hand's index and middle finger pressed sharply down my right cheek, where he smeared Logan's number down to my jawline.

"Too bad..." The softness in his voice was a stark contrast against the dark look that filled his eyes, the dilation of his pupils flooding them a deeper shade of brown.

"Leave her alone Ryder," his mother chirped out and fixed her eyes on me as she left. "Twenty-four hours Eleanor, your decision on how this plays out."

After the door softly clicked closed, only my breaths filled the space around me. The air felt dry and stale as it passed in my nose and into my lungs until an avalanche of emotions crashed through me, led by embarrassment and shame from how I'd taken their verbal commands like a victim absorbed punches from a bully.

That's what they are... all of them.

Only the pressure under my butt drew my attention to the fact I'd collapsed onto the floor, my back pressed straight against the wall. I drew one knee at a time into my chest, hugged them tightly with my elbows, and released gasps and sobs that rattled through me one after another.

While my eyes flooded with tears, my nose dripped with congestion, and my back heaved unevenly, a knock on the door barely registered in my ears. The knock pounded louder and the door cracked open. I lifted my head to the tall figure that loomed tall and cast a shadow over me.

I'd never been so glad when the smooth, charming baritone tones of a southern accent hit my ears.

"Miss Ellie?"

Livid was an understatement of the reactions I saw as Darrius carried me around the stadium's concourse, almost limp in his arms and positive that my face looked like a hot mess. With one scooped movement, he handed me right into Logan's arms, who exhaled sharply, tugged me tightly against his chest, and kissed my forehead, cheeks, even my nose.

His deep voice faintly whispered words of relief, like, "You're okay, Ellie... You're okay."

After a few iterations, I realized Logan said the words more for himself than me and pressed one hand onto his cheek. The slight gloss of tears that shone over his blue irises squeezed my heart around itself, so I rasped out, "I'm okay. They just -"

"Threatened and borderline kidnapped a witness!" Mr. Reynolds barked out in an uncharacteristically furious tone of voice. With his tight fists, eyebrows scrunched together tightly, eyes narrowed, cheeks red, and mouth wrenched into a grimace, he paced back and forth in front of me and Logan.

"David..." Grace spoke in a soft, soothing tone and her hands grabbed one of his arms. "Calm down. For now, Eleanor is fine, she -"

"That's not it... They really are the worst snake attorneys I've ever met," he groaned and ran his free hand through his hair. His eyes were full of remorse at me when he continued, "Even now, if we report their threat to a judge or the police, then they'll throw California Penal Code one-forty at us, claiming you exaggerated what they just said and there was no physical damage incurred."

"She said she'd ruin my life, along with Logan's and Jake's." One of my hands patted Logan's chest and he gently sat me down. I winced under the residual pain in my left foot but figured Mrs. Steven's heel only left a bruise. My eyes shifted between my boyfriend and my brother. "I can't... ruin your lives with this."

"Let 'em try," Jake grunted and clenched his jaw tightly shut. "I've done my anger management time and more as far as USC is concerned."

"I don't care what they do to me," Logan assured me with one hand cupped around my jaw, his thumb stroked over my cheek. "Register me as a sex offender because I once consensually slept with my long-term girlfriend who was seventeen when I was eighteen? I think they're calling your bluff but let them try to prove that we even slept together then."

My entire face flamed warm and scrunched up at his candid admission, then squeezed my eyes tightly shut and cringed my nose since both our Moms and my brother heard it. With one eye cracked open and focused only on Logan, I reminded him, "I assume that would be admitted during a testimony."

"Which I don't think they have the manpower to accomplish." Mr. Reynolds' words fully opened both my eyes and I saw that he'd stopped pacing, stood with his arms crossed, and still wore the same extremely pissed off look on his face. "They're facing too many witnesses, too many empty threats, and sorry Ellie but your testimony is the weakest, along with the lightest sentence."

That's... not encouraging.

I pushed an exasperated sigh out my lips. "Then why are they threatening me?"

While 'Because you're weak' was the answer I'd expected and braced myself for, instead Mr. Reynolds offered, "Because you're the DA's first witness and the youngest. Ryder wasn't eighteen at the time of his assault, but your testimony, from the DA's office's perspective at least, solidifies that his behavior started before he was an adult. But I'm positive that the other victims are well aware of the Stevens family by now."

Oh.

While his response should have instilled me with some sense of purpose, I only felt defeated, like a punching bag with a hole that drained out its sand. My shoulders slumped and both my voice and eyes begged Mr. Reynolds, "What can I do? I... trust you."

His brown eyes filled with remorse but with zero hesitation, he spat out in a voice laced with frustration, "Don't let them win. Knowing those two, it'll get nasty I'm sure but they... Must be reaching some kind of desperation mode because their motions to extend the trial date again have all been denied by the judge."

Logan's warm hand wrapped over my shoulder and a silent nod from Jake were the only silent assurances I needed of where they stood on my decision. I ignored the pit of uncertainty that rose inside me, closed my eyes, and nodded.

Fight it is.