Henry gritted his teeth. He heard a strange clinking and then a loud CLICK.
“What the-?”
Another loud CLICK.
Libby asked, “Are you ready to play?”
“Handcuffs? Naughty!” There was clear anticipation in Dean’s voice, but Henry understood now.
Libby moved to sit on the edge of Henry’s bed and although he couldn’t see her, he felt her energy somehow-she was saying, This is for us, for you. I want you, not him. He didn’t know how he could possibly interpret things that way, considering all she’d done was cross the span between the twin beds and take a seat, but he knew it was true.
“Hey.” Dean didn’t sound so happy now. “Where’d you go?”
Libby was sitting on the edge of the bed, clearly aware of Henry beneath her as she told Dean, “You’re not going anywhere.”
“I wasn’t planning on it.” He snorted. “Come over here.”
Libby’s next words created both silence and confusion for at least thirty seconds. “Marcus’s guys are on the way.”
There was real fear in Dean’s voice when he finally found it. “What are you talking about?”
“You wanted to know who my source was for the hazing article?” Libby was like a cat, playing with a bird or a mouse. “Marcus and I go way back. And he’s not very happy with you, is he, little man?” She put a disdainful emphasis on the word little.
Dean was scared, but he was trying not to show it. “Quit fucking around. Give me the key.”
“No.” There was no teasing tone to her voice anymore. She practically spat the words out. “This is for Elaine.”
“You fucking cunt!” Dean roared. “You know who my father is! You’ll be fucking expelled!”
“Big threats from such a tiny, little man.”
Ouch, Henry thought, finding himself oddly proud of the way she was standing up to him. He wished, more than anything, he could confront Dean directly and, well…kick his ass. That’s what he wanted to do. But this, Libby toying with him, manipulating him, was almost as good. Almost.
“I still have that tape,” Dean threatened. “I’ll put it on fucking YouTube, I swear to god I will!”
“Do what you want.” Libby sounded bored. “They may just kill you anyway.”
“He’s not really coming,” Dean said softly, muttering. “I told him he’d get his money this weekend. You’re just fucking with me.” He almost sounded like he was trying to convince himself.
“Oh he’s coming,” she assured him. “Listen to this.”
Henry clamped a hand over his mouth, stifling his own surprise. Now Henry knew why Libby had asked for his phone. It wasn’t just so she could turn it on “silent” and keep it from giving away his position under the bed.
Val’s voice came out of Henry’s cell-of course, Dean was blindfolded and had no idea that it belonged to Henry. He just heard the desperate, pleading whisper of Val’s voice saying, “Dean’s in trouble. Marcus’s boys are coming for him tonight!” before Libby turned it off again.
Once he’d heard it, Dean howled like he was in pain. “Let me go!”
“Are you kidding me?” She scoffed at the idea. “No way. You deserve it after what you did to Elaine.”
“Fuck that.” Dean swore, sounding desperate, but also somewhat calmer. “Libby, listen to me. I’m going to have their money this weekend. Call her back! Tell them to call the dogs off!”
“And Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny are your best friends too, right?” Libby actually laughed.
“Look in my backpack.” Dean was gritting his teeth. “Front pocket.”
Libby moved from the bed, finding his backpack by the door.
“Right up front. See it?” Dean asked.
“What is this?” Libby padded back toward the bed, sitting on the edge of Henry’s bed again. “Names?”
“The guys in my study group.” Dean hesitated and Henry knew this was it. He was going to say it. He was actually going to tell her. “Notice they’re all football players.”
“So?”
Dean went on, spilling it, his voice actually gaining strength as he talked. “We’re playing Eastern Michigan this weekend. EMU hasn’t had a winning season since 1995. Not only are they going to beat the spread against U of M this weekend, they’re going to win the whole damned thing.”
Jesus Christ, he actually sounded proud! It made Henry nauseous.
Libby pressed him further, and Henry knew she wanted it to be as clear as possible on the tape. “What are you talking about?”
Dean hissed, “We’re throwing the game! It’s all fixed! And it cost me a lot of damned money, too.”
Libby was quiet and then she said, “And you’re betting on the winning team, of course.”
“Hell yeah-all bets will be on Eastern!”
And there it was, all the proof they needed. Dean had admitted it to a witness and they had it on tape.
“Why would they?” Libby mused. “Why would these guys in your ‘study group’ jeopardize everything like this?”
“Because they’re getting paid!” he exclaimed. And then he stopped, as if he’d just realized something. “You could get paid, too, Libby. I know your parents are frickin’ dirt poor. Just think what you could do with ten thousand dollars!”
“Ten thousand?” Libby asked. “Is that what they’re getting?”
“No.” Dean paused. “Fifty thousand each.”
“How much are you keeping?”
Another pause. “Half a million.”
“Holy hell,” Libby whispered. “Where did all the money come from?”
“Literacy Tutor Foundation.” Dean laughed. “It’s my dad’s pet charity. I’ve been pimping for it since the beginning of the year.”
“Stealing from it, you mean,” she snapped.
“Whatever.” Dean shifted on the bed. Henry could hear the handcuffs moving on the post. ”After Saturday, there’s going to be plenty to go around. Tell Marcus I’ll pay him double!”
Libby hesitated. “What if I just tell him you’re going to throw the game?”
“Marcus looks out for himself. He’s a second-stringer with a bad knee. He’s never going to play pro ball. He’d be lucky to get a tryout as a walk on!” Dean scoffed. “He’s not stupid. If he finds out, I’m sure he’ll just use it to his advantage, like I am.”
“Yeah, but there’s a difference,” she snarled. “You planned this whole thing!”
“So?” Dean’s voice had the same arrogant tone it always did, and Henry found it infuriating. His roommate was handcuffed to a bedpost, afraid half a dozen defensive linemen were on their way to beat him to a pulp, and somehow his worldview had yet to change. “Look, there’s nothing he or anyone can do about it now. It’s a done deal. We might as well all profit from it.”
Henry held his breath under the bed, watching the wheels of the tape turning, sealing Dean’s fate.
“Come on, Libby, let me go.” Dean wasn’t pleading anymore. Maybe the fear had receded some, or maybe he really felt he was getting somewhere with his bribe. Who could turn down money, after all? “Ten thousand dollars. Think about it.”
“Twenty,” Libby said quietly.
Under the bed, Henry’s eyes widened.
“Fine,” Dean agreed. “Just let me go.”
“Fifty,” she countered.
Henry blinked. Was she serious? Was she really contemplating-?
Dean didn’t answer for a minute, and then he said, “Okay, okay…”
“Quarter million.” Libby’s voice was flat, emotionless. Ruthless. She had him beat, and clearly Dean knew it.
After a brief, defeated silence, he said, “Okay. Whatever you want.”
Henry watched as Libby stood, walking toward Dean’s bed. She stood there for a while, long enough to make Henry squirm. He was sure Dean was, too.
“You didn’t even acknowledge what you did to Elaine.” Her voice was so low he almost couldn’t hear her at all. “You don’t even care.”
“Oh come on!” Dean exclaimed, sounding really angry now, and even a little…self-righteous. “We both know she was drunk and she fucking wanted it. She was more than ready to top Henry off-why not me?”
Dean suddenly howled in pain.
Henry winced, his breath caught. What in the hell had she done to him?
“You couldn’t pay me enough to let you go, you motherfucker,” she growled and Dean screamed in pain again. “I hope they do kill you!”