My life has been a nightmare ever since. I was in too much shock to put up much of an argument when they cuffed my hands behind my back and read me my Miranda rights. The horrified and accusatory stares of my so-called friends will forever stick in my memory. The crowd parted to get a glimpse of the golden boy Ben Masterson, getting arrested for rape.
The police shoved me into the back of a police car, then hauled me down to the station and locked me in a cell. My one phone call was to my father, who hung up on me before saying, “I raised you better than that.”
I sat in a jail cell for two days before I was hauled to an arraignment hearing, where I was given a court-appointed attorney. I had no idea who I was even accused of raping until that moment.
Sabrina.
She’d shown up on my doorstep the night before the party, begging me to take her back. I sent her on her way, but not before she slapped me, digging her nails into my cheek. The police loved that piece of incriminating evidence and made sure to take plenty of photos of my face. It was the word of a local boy who went to a snobby school against Sabrina Richmond and her banking mogul father, Robert Richmond. Who were they going to believe?
Sabrina thought she was smart, but she forgot one key piece of evidence in a rape case: DNA. I hadn’t had sex with Sabrina in over a week so there was no way my DNA would be in the semen they collected from her as evidence. Sabrina confessed it belonged to some guy she’d picked up at Belvedere’s bar, a place we used to hang out. The charges were completely dropped, but my father refused to post bail, so I ended up spending over a week in jail. By the time I was released, it didn’t matter that I was innocent. My face had been plastered all over the media. My father lost business because his son was a rapist. I lost my scholarship and was nearly expelled. All because of a selfish, coldhearted bitch.
Carry a chip on my shoulder? Why the fuck wouldn’t I? My good friends stuck with me. They all knew what Sabrina was like. They’d seen how controlling she was of my free time. My roommates heard the middle-of-the-night, paranoid I was with another girl phone calls I fielded from her. My few true friends never doubted me. But the people who only knew me in passing judged. Whispers and snickers followed my every movement those first few weeks. I’d never felt so ostracized in my life. Cut off from my family and all but a handful of friends, everything I had had been stripped away.
Three more months. Just three more fucking months and I’m out of this living hell.
I really need a shower but I’m not sure I can spare the five minutes to take one. Then I think about all the tips I stand to lose if I don’t impress the female customers. After what has to be the quickest shower in the world, I throw on my clothes and jam my feet into my shoes.
Austin is back on the sofa with Noah. Neither of them look up at me, which isn’t uncommon when they are absorbed in a video game, but the chill in the air tells me it’s for a different reason.
I stop at the front door, my hand on the knob. “I’ve been a real dick over the last few months, and you guys have born the brunt of it. I’m sorry.” My voice cracks and both of my roommates shift their gaze to me. “Only a handful of people have stuck with me through this shit, and you two are in that group. You deserve better from me.”
Noah picks up a pillow and throws it at my head. “Yeah, yeah. We love you too. Get out of here already.”
I laugh and then sprint out the door, down the steps, and across the parking lot. My apartment is about a block behind the bar, so I never drive my car. I realize belatedly that my hair is still sopping wet and I forgot a coat, but it’s too late to turn back. It’s going to be cold as a son-of-a-bitch when I go home in the wee hours of the morning.
I slip in through the back door and immediately see Uncle Tony manning the bar.
“Ben.” he growls. “Where the hell have you been?” My father’s brother might be my boss, but it doesn’t get me a pass in the slacker department. I know Uncle Tony took a risk when he hired me after my arrest. He lost a few of his older, more regular customers, and my father is giving him the cold shoulder, but my uncle insists we’re blood and blood sticks together. Someone needs to tell my father that.
“Sorry, Uncle Tony.”
He reaches up and rubs my head. “You’re digging an early grave, Benjamin, running around with all these part-time jobs. Is it worth it?”
I’ve asked myself the same thing every fucking day since I started this punishing schedule in December, but I’m too stubborn to give up. “I sure as hell hope so.”
“You can be thankful that you’re such a hit with the young females of Hillsdale. Your presence has increased our revenue by forty percent and makes up for the idiots who left me for O’Malley’s after I hired you.”
I start checking the glasses and supplies, making sure we’re ready for the night. “I’d like to think it’s my charming personality and not just my looks that appeals to the ladies.”
“More like your notoriety,” he grumbles, heading to the backroom.
My smile falls. Surely, he can’t be serious.
I don’t have time to give it much thought. I’m thirty minutes late, and Tony is going to dock my pay, uncle or not. I need to pour on the charm so that my tips make up for it. The early evening is slow, but I expect business to pick up between eight and nine. Brittany, my co-bartender for the night, shows up an hour after I arrive.
“Hey there, sexy,” she purrs as she struts behind the bar.