Chapter 5 What Video

Tatiana

Did I think Hasan is hot? Seriously? What kind of sick joke is this?

Of course, Hasan is hot. Insane, drop-dead gorgeous man with fucking Arabic genes that just makes him surreal. Everyone either envied him, wanted to be like him, or wanted to be with him, and I was no different. I mean, have you seen his full, plump lips? The way he bites his lower lip, the way his brows crest cutely when he frowns, or the way his deep eyes switch from innocent to bedroom eyes that hold you under a spell? He was sculpted from another race.

So, yeah. Hasan is hot.

"Of course not. He's ugly as fuck, and his shitty personality adds to his ugliness." I storm out of the patio, walking briskly past horny teenagers making out. There's a voice calling out to me in the distance, but I am too furious, too annoyed to even care who it was.

In seconds, I am standing in the center of the foyer, heart pounding against my ribcage. A couple walks past me, holding cups in their hands. They nod at me, mothering sick party as they disappeared down the stairs to the basement.

Sick party? Sick party? I'll fucking give them a sick party.

I took out my phone and dialed a number. The number was connected, and right when I was about to lay my complaint, Emily appeared. I quickly hid my phone in the pocket of my jeans. Emily takes slow steps toward me, and I begin to panic. In contrast to me, she looks worried.

"Taty? You good? You have been out of it since the party started."

"No! I want everyone out of here. You are all messing up the place and putting everything in order; tomorrow will be on me. We have school tomorrow, and I need to rest, and I can't do that because my stupid brother thinks it's a smart idea to host a party on the first fucking day of school! The house is a fucking mess. Bottle cans everywhere! People sniffing drugs here and there. So, no! I am not fine, and if you will just leave me alone."

I hated that I snapped at Emily. She wasn't to be blamed for Hasan's pushy and irritating behavior. He knows we were under strict rules, and the first thing he does is throw a party? Oh, I can't wait for Mom to return. He's going to be grounded until he's old and gray.

Emily tries to say something, but she's brutally interrupted by the blasting sound of sirens. A chaos erupted, and in a second, my house, which was once full of horny teenagers, was now empty, with only my best friend and me standing in the foyer.

"You called the cop?" She sounds disappointed. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Just then, Hasan emerges from the basement, Dave standing next to him. Dave stretches out his hand to Emily, who gladly takes it. I am about to call out to Emily when there's a brutal knock on the door.

"Police! Open up!" Hasan strides past me, bumping my shoulders in the process. Hasan opens the door. I barely hear their conversation from where I stand, but I know for a fact that Hasan was being his usual charming self with the way the office burst out in laughter.

Then, he steps aside, welcoming the officer inside. "As you can see, there's nothing here. It was probably just a prank call." Hasan speaks behind the officer who is inspecting the foyer.

"Do you live here, miss?"

I blink. "Huh?"

The officer looks at Hasan suspiciously before turning back to me. "Do you live here?"

"Oh... yeah. He's my brother." I answer nervously, wrapping my hands around my torso. The officer jots down my response before looking at me again, this time with a look that told me not to lie.

"Someone called 911 to report a party with drunks, and that call came from here. What do you have to say about that?"

Uhmm... why am I nervous? I called the police because I wanted everyone out of the house. But the tone in his voice sounded like I would be behind bars in the blink of an eye if I attested to his question.

"Uh..."

"Miss?" the officer tilts his head.

My gaze shifts to Hasan, silently begging him to come to my aid. The fucker smiles and takes out his phone. Then he turns it so I can clearly see his screen. Instantly, a surge of courage ripples through me.

"I'm sorry, officer. It must have been a prank call. My brother and I invited our best friends over to do our assignment, and that's it. No party. No drugs." My voice is firm and affirming, and it leaves no room for doubt.

The officer jots that down and turns over to Hasan, who smiles at him and shrugs. Satisfied with my response, he tucks his notebook in the back of his pants. "Well, I apologize for interrupting." He is already making his way to the door.

"Nonsense. You were looking out for us, officer, and I can't tell you how much that means to us." Hasan praises in a quiet, innocent tone. Fucking asshole.

His words seem to hit a sensitive spot for the officer because he looked like he was about to tear up.

"You are deeply appreciated." Hasan opens the door for the officer, a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Have a good night." He says as the officer steps out. Once he's gone, Hasan turns to me with a serious look on his face, a complete 180 from his earlier look.

He doesn't utter a word to me and begins to mount the stairs. I follow behind him.

"Where did you get that video?" Hasan is taller than me, and he's mounting the stairs twice at a time, making it difficult for me to catch up to him.

"I am talking to you, Hasan. Where did you get that video?" He ignores me again. He turns to his left and begins to head to his room.

"Hasan fucking Olivera, if you don't fucking delete that video, I will tell Mom about the party." I yell, not in the least bit bothered that Emily and Dave were somewhere upstairs and could hear us. On the bright side, it gets Hasan to stop.

He turns on his heels and sprints toward me; each step of his matches the sound of my thundering heart. He stands close to me, too close for my sanity.

"I dare you to tell Mom. She will find out about the video and all the dirty things you do every night when you sneak into my room." Hasan's tone is threatening and a total turn-on at the same time.

Fuck!

"What video?" I hear Emily's voice, and my head snaps to her direction.

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