Crushed (Rushed #2) (2 page)

"Really?" Brenda stared me down. Her sudden, staccato word startled me. "Were you sorry or just wasted when you screamed at Kelly to kick Zach out and fire him? If you'd kept your mouth shut and not squealed on Zach and Alexis, we could have ignored their romance and looked the other way. Snitches are any standards board's worst enemy." She crossed her arms.

"Sisters don't rat out other sisters. Not when what they're doing isn't hurting anyone. That kind of crap forces those of us on the standards board to act. Contrary to popular belief, we're all here out of a sense of duty to the house. Not because we like dealing with this crap and are on some kind of power trip."

I wasn't surprised Brenda was defending Zach. He was Brenda's favorite live-in houseboy. He was almost everyone's fave. Including mine. He treated us like little sisters, coming to our rescue, listening to our problems, and ignoring our faults when we were at our worst. Maybe that was why I'd loved him.

Zach had always understood me in a way that very few people did. And then, even after I'd treated him horribly and gotten him fired, he saved my life by pulling me out of the way of Dakota's car. Even though I'd been passed out and didn't remember it, I owed him forever for that.
 

I blinked, trying not to show weakness, hoping no one noticed I was on the verge of tears.
 

Dad's words came back to me.
Never let them see you sweat. Hang tough, Morgs. All the time.

People thought I was tough. And mean. I wasn't. I wasn't intrinsically mean. I'd just learned from my dad to go after what I wanted with everything I had. When I'd wanted Zach, I pursued him and used every trick I knew. Was that so wrong? Was I wrong to try to convince him of how right we were for each other? I might even have succeeded if Alexis hadn't pledged the house and stolen him away.

So I'd been a fool for love. And done some crappy stuff. But I wasn't a villain. Just dogged and determined. And now, defeated. Crushing on Zach had ruined me.

"I'm sorry," I said again. It was feeble, but what else could I do?

"You nearly got him killed." Brenda had never liked me. Being sorority sisters didn't magically make our personalities mesh. She wasn't going to let up.
 

But what she said was true. Dakota had backed over Zach instead of me. And put him in the hospital with brain trauma so severe that he had to take a break from school and go home to recover. So, yeah, I was the wicked witch here. But I hadn't meant for that to happen. Although it sounded like I was making excuses, I was more like Elphaba in
Wicked
than the portrayal of the wicked witch in
The Wizard of Oz
. Misunderstood. Taken out of context. And though no one would believe me, I would take it all back if I could.

"Dakota's in deep shit now, too, because of you." Brenda's eyes glittered with anger. So that was why she couldn't look at me. She wasn't sympathetic. She was furious. Besides being buddies with Zach, it was an open secret she had a thing for Dakota.

I hung my head. I was sorry. Honestly sorry for being such a green-eyed bitch. I saw that now that it was too late. But it's not easy to kill a crush. Emotions don't just die on command or when it's convenient.

Victoria cut her off. "Ease up on her."

The other three board members were stiffly quiet. I could almost feel how much they wanted to be anywhere but here.

Brenda shut up, but the death glares from her continued.

"I'm sorry. We have to discipline you, Morgan." Victoria sighed. "Discipline is not meant as punishment. Discipline is meant to instruct and correct. And build our house to be a better place because each member is her fullest, best self."

Crap.
A speech. My heart pounded. This sounded canned, not like Victoria at all. I'd been hoping they'd fine me and I would go on my way. But now…

"The five of us have discussed the situation and reached a unanimous decision, which is for your own good. Morgan Peterson, you are now on social probation through the end of the semester. Effective immediately."

My heart nearly stopped. "But—"

"This means you will not be allowed to participate in any house parties, mixers, dances, or functions, other than philanthropy events, until you have successfully completed both your court-ordered Alcohol and Drug Information School and the entire semester without incurring more infractions or being brought before the board again."

I stood perfectly still, stunned.

Victoria got out of her chair and came around to give me a hug. "Come on, Morgs. You'll be all right. Your drinking has gotten out of hand. This is your chance to get it back under control and get a little perspective."
 

She took a breath, like there was more bad news coming. "There's one more stipulation—you need to learn to get along with Alexis. She's your little. You owe it to her to mentor her properly and shape her into a vital member of our house."

I stared at my twin, stunned, even though I shouldn't have been surprised. Alexis was the villain here, the girl who'd stepped in my territory and not backed off when I'd warned her to. For her and Zach's sake as much as my own self-interest. I'd known from the first time Alexis had seen Zach that she was going to mean trouble for him. I'd tried to stop her. And this was how I was repaid.
 

I kept my chin high. "Exactly how am I supposed to get along with her?"

Victoria shrugged. "The usual way—take her out to lunch. Buy her a coffee. Sit down and chat. Maybe even study together. You took History of Rock and Roll, didn't you? She's taking that class now." Victoria smiled, looking relieved the interview was almost over. "You'll figure something out. You have a lot of wisdom and experience to offer her. You just have to find it in yourself."

Chapter Two

Dakota

I met with the prosecutor behind closed doors at his office less than two weeks after I ran over—and nearly killed—Zach, my best friend from high school. Tom Lesser, my dad's law partner, represented me. I'd known Tom since I was a baby. "Lesser" was really a misnomer. He was a big, affable man, all charm and smiles and good-old-boy networks. Until you faced him across a courtroom. Then he went for your jugular.

Justice moved exceedingly slowly in the big, bad real world. This tiny college town had not learned that slow was the cool way to do things. Here, justice—regarding alcohol violations at least—moved at lightning speed. Probably to keep the courts from being totally clogged. Alcohol violations were as common as beer was on campus. But few involved vehicular assault, or whatever they were calling it.

Tom had warned me beforehand to keep my mouth shut and let him do all the talking. Speak only when spoken to, like I was a kid. And even then, wait for him to give me permission to answer any questions. Despite his common, tired middle-aged man appearance, Dan Green, the prosecutor, laid a mean trap with the stealth of a ninja. You would never see it coming. That was what Tom told me. And he should know.
 

I sat next to Tom. I was clean-shaven, hair freshly cut, dressed in a dress shirt and slacks, looking like the fair-haired boy next door. Like the kind of guy Dan would trust with his daughter. A guy who couldn't possibly get into any trouble.

Smiles, handshakes, greetings, and story swapping were over. Tom and Dan were old buddies, apparently. Tom was buddies with everyone. But suddenly, things were all business. And the two men were no longer old friends, but adversaries on the opposite side of the gray area of justice.

Across his big mahogany desk, Dan, a wiry man who looked bored and was almost begging for something that would surprise him, stared seriously at me. Meting out justice was serious shit. I was his fifth Homecoming Week case of the day.

"You're asking for a continuance with a dismissal?" Dan adjusted his glasses. "This isn't a simple minor in possession/minor in consumption. Your client was driving while intoxicated. He hit and nearly killed another student."

I stared into my lap and swallowed hard, thinking of Zach and the crazy-grateful way he'd reacted to the whole thing. Like me hitting him had let him atone for his past sins and save the life of a sister of sorts as repayment for taking one. Zach and the mysterious way his mind worked attracted girls like a magnet. And had always driven me crazy. He was impossible to understand.

"Technically, my client was still on private property. Not on the public roads, where the campus police have jurisdiction. He was simply backing his car in what amounts to a private driveway." Tom smiled. "Look, Dan. I know you've read the case notes. There were extenuating circumstances. By his own admission, the victim, Zachary Harris, admits he jumped out behind Mr. Bradley without warning, giving him no time to react and stop."

Dan looked neither amused nor moved. "To save a young woman Mr. Bradley was about to run over with his car." He glanced at me.

I sat like a stone, unmovable, trying to be unreadable, about to be stepped on by justice. Grateful as hell to Zach that he'd saved me from killing Morgan. Or even merely maiming her. Furious with her for putting me in this position. Why the hell did she lie down in that alley? Why hadn't I walked her home?

Morgan had always seemed so tough. But she'd been an emotional basket case that night. We both were. I shouldn't have taken advantage of her. We shouldn't have taken advantage of each other.

Tom looked completely unfazed by the accusation. "It remains to be seen whether my client would have
actually
hit Miss Peterson. His car is equipped with a backing camera and object detection. Just a few inches more and his car would have warned him of the young lady's presence. He may very well have stopped in time. We'll never know for sure now." Tom's tone was as smooth as a lake on a calm summer morning.
 

Dan looked like he wanted to throw both of us into that lake. Like Tom's story was a bunch of bullshit.

"You've read the statement I submitted from Mr. Harris. The victim has asked the courts for mercy for my client, saying he doesn't blame Mr. Bradley for his injuries. And maintaining that if it were up to him, Mr. Harris wouldn't press charges. In these extreme circumstances, I think it's worth taking his wishes into consideration.

"Zachary Harris accidentally ran over and killed his baby sister when he was a toddler. He feels that one accident nearly ruined the rest of his life. Being a true friend, he wants to spare Mr. Bradley the same fate. Let's not lay more guilt at Zachary Harris' feet.

"My client was doing what almost every student on campus was doing that Friday night of Homecoming Week—partying. Spirits ran high after his team won the powder puff football tournament. He wasn't taking as much care to pay attention to his surroundings as he should have. And yes, he was drinking.

"But he's just months away from his twenty-first birthday. This is his first offense. He has a clean record—not even a speeding ticket. His father has made recompense to the victim for injuries incurred. And Mr. Bradley has abstained from alcohol since the incident. He has apologized to the victim. And been forgiven.

"We're not asking for mercy. We're asking for reason. There's no need to take punitive action for what is an unfortunate accident and temporary lapse of judgment. One that my client has owned up to and learned from. He's an ideal candidate for a continuance. Don't ruin his future with a criminal record over a stupid college mistake."

Dan stared at us, studying me. My mouth went dry.

"You make a good case, Tom." It was hard to tell whether he believed his own words. "I'll grant your continuance. If Mr. Bradley agrees to my terms. He will surrender his driver's license until his twenty-first birthday. Attend the first available session of Alcohol and Drug Information School at his own expense, and pay a two-thousand-dollar fine. If he doesn't get into any more trouble within the year, the charges will be dismissed."

I released a breath I'd hardly been aware of holding.

Beside me, Tom tensed. Two thousand dollars was extreme. The maximum was five thousand, but most people got off with paying a few hundred.

"And he will attend a victims' panel," Dan said before Tom could speak and argue for better terms.
 

It was clear he was making a power play. The longer we considered his offer, the steeper the terms became. And everything was non-negotiable.

"Thank you, Dan. On behalf of my client, we accept." Tom stood and extended his hand to shake Dan's.

"Good. The next session of ADIS begins this Friday night. Make sure he's in it."

Outside the courtroom, Tom hugged me.