Unmasked

Valerie's POV

That saying about life giving you lemons and you making lemonade? I'd been doing it since Mom got sick, after she passed away and I was doing it now. I asked Dad to postpone my weekly meeting with Ms. Coleman, claiming I had a nasty flu virus. For the last three days, I had quarantined myself at home, wearing clothes suited for autumn rather than summer. Jackson wasn't home all that much, except at night. He kept insisting we do things together like have dinner or watch movies. I kept complying with his "requests". Why? Because to unmask him, I needed him to slip up and for that to happen, Jackson needed to feel in control. Assured of his sway over me. I rolled my eyes; some people were too easy to manipulate. Although, acting like a boneless amoeba was hell for me. Especially since…

I quickly blocked my iPhone, screen going black. No one needed to see me mourn over photos of me and Finn.

"Ava?" I asked, stunned.

She wasted no time with pleasantries, sauntering right in. Ava dropped her bag at the foot of bed. Standing with crossed arms, she was the picture of determination. Simone hadn't bothered to announce visitors. She knew I would've sent Ava away. Clearly, Simone thought I needed some cheering up.

"What are you doing here?"

"You told me you were sick." True. She'd been texting me non-stop since yesterday. "Thomas told me what happened between you and Finn. Well, he told me you broke up with Finn. Finn didn't seem to know why, though." I already felt a migraine coming on. When I didn't volunteer a word, she shrugged expectantly, "So?"

"So, what?"

"So, why the hell did you break up? Two weeks ago, you were crying your heart out because Finn got into MIT and you were going—"

"Exactly." I gestured at her as a matter of fact. "I'm not going to invest time in a doomed relationship."

Ava licked her lips glaring at the ceiling. I was doing a good job at keeping emotions at bay.

"I'm not sure if you know this, but I'm prone to blind moments of rage. Right now, I'm very tempted to tie your legs and dangle you from a window." That was… an odd visual. Any other time, I might have laughed.

"I definitely didn't know that. Thank you for sharing."

Ava dropped her arms, groaning.

"Valerie, Finn is miserable! The guy's locked himself inside his room. How could you do this to him? Without even telling him why?"

I wanted to tell her. I wanted to scream it at her. I wanted to break apart, but… I needed proof. I needed to handle this myself because without any proof, it was my word against Jackson's. And who was going to believe the mad girl? The girl with coping issues? The girl who had, along the years, built a reputation around manipulation? The girl who openly displayed distaste for her step-brother—the same step-brother who had always been nice and accommodating in front of their parents? To that end, I stayed as quiet as a mouse.

"Don't give me some crap excuse like 'oh, long distance doesn't work'. You're wearing a top, cardigan and sweatpants. You never dress sloppy, not even when you're at home."

"I have a cold, remember?"

She pointed at the air-conditioning machine above the walk-in closet.

"Your air-conditioning is set on cold."

Crap on a cracker.

"Because it's hot, Ava. Sheesh. It's not like this affects your life. Why do you care so much?"

She rocked back a step, chocolate eyes widening like I'd sucker punched her in the gut.

"Why? Because you're both my friends and you hurt Finn. Badly. You owe him a good reason." I opened my mouth, but she was on a roll. "You told Finn you wanted to make it work. Plus, you're still on the waiting list for Brown…"

"Ava!" I yelled, causing her to straighten up. Damn, she was tall. Nearly as tall as Thomas and that was saying something. I took a big breath, gathering my wits to return to a calm demeanor, "There's no guarantee of me getting in. As for the long-distance thing… I changed my mind, okay? People do that. Not everyone decides who they're going to live with at eighteen. Not all people have a perfect love story. Is that clear or do you want me to paint you a picture?"

Ava's mouth parted in shock. The sickened look she branded me with hurt. It also told me I was successfully driving her away.

"What the hell is going on with you?" she whispered.

"Nothing. Maybe if you weren't so gullible, you would've listened to Thomas. He was right. Finn was right. I'm a bad person. I'm the living, breathing embodiment of the word narcissist."

"No, I'm not buying this. You can yell at me, insult me—but no. I wasn't wrong about you. I know a thing or two about faking it and…" she trailed off. "I wasn't wrong." She lowered her voice. "Valerie, what's going on?" silence. "Are you… sick? Not with a cold. With… something else?"

I could lie and say 'yes', but it wouldn't be worth the effort.

"No."

"Then…"

"Nothing, Ava. I'm the same person I've always been. Just sporting a mild cold." I could read her eyes. She refused to believe it. "Now, if you're done wasting my time, I would like to get back to reading my book." I grabbed the forgotten book I'd been trying to read for the last hour, until my earning to see Finn's face had finally won out.

I cracked the thing open, plainly ignoring my hovering friend. She stood there for two minutes, maybe less. But those minutes felt like an eternity. Once Ava grabbed her bag, storming out of my bedroom, I waited a total of thirty seconds—until I couldn't hear her—and got up to lock myself inside. I slumped against the door, gritting my teeth as nails dug into the soft skin of my palms.

***

Finn's POV

Ava never called, she always texted. That's why I answered. She didn't waste a second, stressing that something was very off with Valerie; Ava almost begged me to go and check on her. I was seriously debating on what to do. I'd just taken my first shower in four days, which my family was massively grateful for. I was in the process of shaving, losing myself in that crushing moment—when Valerie yelled for me to leave. She'd looked hateful. I couldn't reconcile that person with the girl I'd fallen for. If Ava was right and she was going through something rough… Didn't I owe it to her to be there for her? Or at least try to.

I was morally conflicted. I didn't want to come off as the guy who couldn't take a hint. I wasn't going to be a harassing douchebag. But… She owed me an explanation—one last conversation. I pulled the razor away from my chin, hissing. Droplets of blood pooled at the edge of my chin, mixing with leftover face cream. I rinsed the blade under a torrent of water and worked through the last of my facial hair; I couldn't keep my wandering eyes off that small cut. The more I looked at it, the more my stomach churned at the memory of Valerie's faded scar. My mind wanted to go there—it was driving me insane. By the time I was finished, splashing a healthy dose of aftershave, my mind was made up.

I was going to see Valerie. And if she still wanted me gone, I would never contact her again.

Valerie's POV

I couldn't drag this out any longer. Ava's visit left me rattled. I was on my last shred of sanity. Jackson's ego was swollen worse than a pufferfish. That's why I ventured into his bedroom, like I'd done so many times these last days—trying to find the damn photos, to no avail—and was changing into a baby doll dress. I was filled with burning disgust; it threatened to explode out of me like a living animal, snarling and rabid. I walked over to Jackson's trophy stand, phone in hand. I moved around a football trophy from little league and another from high school, hiding the iPhone behind them, but positioned the camera in the little space between them.

I hated to admit it, but my heart was beating out of tandem. I was exhaling nervously through my mouth, hoping Jackson didn't burst inside just as I adjusted the camera. I couldn't see the frame, I was just pointing the camera toward the bed and hoping the angle was good enough.

I sat and waited on Jackson's bed. He'd been coming home before dinner. Dinner was in an hour, maybe less. The probability of him walking through that door was a good one. For the longest time, I heard nothing. I was left alone with claustrophobic thoughts; I'd lied and blackmailed people plenty, but I'd never seduced anyone before—not like this.

I flushed away every sign of disgust as the doorknob dipped. I leaned back on my elbows, adopting a sexy stance to knock him off his game. Jackson's eyes laid on me just as he finished mumbling a curse. Now or never, Valerie. Get the show rolling… I sat up a bit more, making sure my lingerie was working to my favor; I licked my lips as they turned upward.

"You should come in and shut the door. What if your mother gets home?" I croaked in a soft husk.

Jackson did exactly that. We were alone in his bedroom. I repressed a nervous breath. He was surprised as he came closer, but that feeling changed into smugness. It was made evident by the half smirk and how he walked: slowly, deliberately intimidating. My fingers curled into the duvet.

"I stopped by your room," he announced. Still standing, Jackson nudged a leg to the side with his right knee. I prayed he didn't notice the stiffness in my movements; he fitted between my legs. "I thought you might have gone somewhere and… Done something stupid."

"I've been thinking about everything. I guess… You were right. I was being stubborn with you, Jax." How I didn't bite my own tongue off was a miracle. I reached up, touching a thigh. "Do you still want me?"

His response was a rough groan. Next, he knelt there—in front of me—causing my head to throb with flashes of that night. I grew dizzier as he brushed his skin against mine, parting my knees further. With a cheeky grin, Jackson gave me a look that would've sent any girl into a frenzy of pleasure. It made me want to run him through with a chainsaw.

"I went through a lot of trouble to get you back, babe. What do you think?" he kissed the side of my knee, then planted a kiss higher above… My skin was crawling. I planted my hands on his shoulders. Jackson pulled back a bit, glaring up at me.

"I'm glad you still feel that way. I thought… maybe… things were going to be harder between us." I bit my lip as a flirtatious suggestion. "Still," I tugged on the material of his t-shirt. Reluctantly, he stood. I tipped my head to the vacant spot next to me, releasing him. "I can't let your deed go unpunished. What you did… seriously pissed me off."

Jackson took the seat beside me. My breathing hitched in my chest.

He sighed, "Are we really coming back to that? I apologized for the slap, I was just pissed. You broke up with me." I gave him a long, hard look, with its chilling edge to prove that the Queen had the reigns now.

"That's not the incident I'm referring to."

"Then what?" Really? I hid my disbelief as a breath rushed out of my nose.

"You know very well what, Jax. If you want me back, you should own up to it. Be a man." The male ego could, at times, be a fragile thing. Jackson's was a tender spot, no doubt. The top of his cheeks grew red, hiding the small collection of freckles near his nose cane. "Admit it and apologize. Actually—" I got up, looking down at him for once. "You should spend the rest of your life apologizing."

Jackson's mouth was shut; I could tell he was grinding his molars into dust, spurning me—the prize he had covet for so long. I was so close, but so out of reach. All he needed to do, was admit his actions.

"I didn't do anything you didn't want me to do." Liar! I clenched my own teeth, focusing on keeping the rest of my body loose. A hand shot forward, grasping my wrist. I didn't even get to resist. I was pulled, thrust against his chest and Jackson's breathing crowded my face. "Why are you making this so complicated?"

"Because you took advantage of me. Instead of waiting for me to make a move. I could've come to you on my own. If you hadn't hurt me… you could be eating your cake right now. We both could." As I stared into the brown eyes that haunted my nights, I painted a picture of grey eyes, the color of mercury. I forgot what my next words would've been…

"If I hadn't done it, you'd still be with that kid."

"You harassed me for months." I challenge, close to losing my temper. His hands were touching me—gliding lower, towards my ass. Almost like this was a twisted version of foreplay for him. "Do you really think you did nothing wrong?"

Jackson grabbed me around the neck—shutting me up.

"Why are you so hung up on those things? Aren't you glad I made you come to your senses? You should be apologizing to me! Thanking me. I never gave up on us. You—you tossed me aside because our parents got married. I'm taking you back even after… After you whored around with some guy. Maybe more than one!"

Clawing furiously at his hand, I hit him with my other arm. Hit his chest—hit his face. He seized the wrist.

"I wasn't whoring around." I hissed.

"Who cares? You were mine. Mine!"

"No—I'm not anyone's!" I gave up on the hand around my throat. Instead, I carved my nails into the side of his face. He yelped loudly, releasing me. I rammed my body into his and Jackson toppled back, falling on the bed. There was blood on his forehead and below his right eye were the markings of my nails.

It happened just as a door burst open:

"You raped me!" I screamed at him.

Just two seconds later, Jackson yelled back, "You deserved it!"

And that was it. A matter of seconds.

Finn came out of nowhere, lunging at Jackson. I was shoved to the side with their commotion; Finn was punching Jackson, I realized dumbly, staring at the display with my mouth hanging open. The question of why or how didn't cross my mind. My eyes flickered to the door where Simone and Maria were, taking in the show. I didn't have time to wonder what they thought about my bruised skin, because Jackson got pushed into the tall vanity. My eyes widened as Jackson jumped to his feet, tackling Finn. Both boys became a tangle of limbs as they wrestled on the floor. Unsteadily, I managed to get up. Jackson was broader and taller, but Finn was angrier and quicker. Finn's face was red with fury. I'd never seen him like this; even when April described what he'd done… I hadn't been able to picture it in my head. April's words rang with a haunting chill "he went into a rage".

"Finn!" I yelled as he slammed into Jackson's face, cutting open soft tissue. A sick crack resounded through the air. "Finn—Stop!"

Jackson tried to grab Finn's throat, but the blond smacked the hand. Finn grabbed Jackson's collar, viciously lifting his adversary off the floor, bashing him against it seconds later. Jackson's head lolled side-ways. For a moment, I didn't breathe. Was Jackson… dead? No, he spat a mouthful of blood, staining the carpet, just as Finn's fist got acquainted with a temple.

"What did you do to her?" Finn yelled, pausing the onslaught. A bloodied fist loomed menacingly for everyone to see. He didn't need an answer—he already knew. But Finn was in pain, watching him come to grips with reality… It was heartbreaking on a whole different level. "How could you touch her? You fucking bastard!"

Maria alternated between yelling at them to stop and asking what was going on. I limped towards them. I struggled to grab hold of Finn's shoulders; he kept shoving them back. It didn't help that Jackson was moving underneath Finn, kicking out.

"Finn! He's not worth it—stop it!" Finally, I carved my fingers into muscle, clutching his shoulders. I tried to guide him from the dangerous edge. "You're better than this! Think about MIT. Let him go!" And then, with a jolt, Finn came away from Jackson, kicking the guy's hip for good measure once he tried to get up. My hands coursed down his arms, coaching him backwards. Finn's breathing was ragged, his chest heaving like crazy. Jackson stumbled to his feet, face dripping with blood—was his nose crooked?

"Jackson!" he snapped in the direction of his mother. Maria was incensed with fear; her arms were thrown out. "What in the world is—Jackson!" she yelled as her son ran out of the room like a cornered rat chewing through pipes, to escape a grizzly death. He shoved past his mother, carelessly throwing her against a wall. A painting rattled. Simone grabbed his collar, but he twisted aggressively. Heavy steps could be heard as he scampered down the hallway. Simone went to help Maria right herself…

Maria's voice gradually gave out after non-stop crying after her son. Finn looked down at me, lips parted, face lost, stricken with a complex emotion I didn't have time to process. I crashed our chests together, weaving myself around him. Afraid he would blink out of existence—maybe he was a hallucination. I was proved wrong when Finn hugged me back just as hard, resting his chin on my head.

"Valerie…" Maria called. I could only imagine what was running through her mind. Unfortunately, she was about to learn the horrible truth about her spawn.

Everyone stared as I detached myself from Finn, heading towards Jackson's trophy case. I grabbed the iPhone. Twisting the thing around, I stopped the video recording. Swallowing, I hit PLAY, handing it to Maria. Her hands were shaky. I allowed images and words to explain what I couldn't.

Finn neared me, I felt him. I turned around, burying my face into his chest, not able to lock eyes with him. Finn didn't object.

"Miss Maria…!" Simone's voice grew high pitched. Something that happened once ever hundred years.

"Oh God—this… My… My…" Maria's voice broke into several stuttered, choked words.

All those sounds faded as Finn smoothed a hand across my tangled hair. I wasn't sure why it happened; either from lack of sleep or the tiny amounts of food I'd been ingesting, but I….

"Valerie…?" I felt Finn shake me but… I was just… so… dizzy…