Ruthless (The Privileged of Pembroke High #4)

by Ivy Fox

  I guess I like seeing Blondie smile like that—especially if I’m the reason behind it.

  So yeah, I don’t mind spending time with Chad so much anymore, but the one thing I could do without is tagging along with my aunt to pick him up after school. My stomach churns every time I’m forced to watch the parade of stuck-up rich preppies in their crisp, starched collared uniforms and expensive gear walk past me, with their noses up in the air like they are the shit. It makes me resent how our worlds are so different from one another. I watch them get into their Town Cars and be whisked away to their lavish homes on the Upper East Side, totally unaware of how good they’ve got it. They have never had to go to bed hungry or be scared that some asshole is going to jump them in the halls of their upscale private school. They don’t need to worry about some crackhead trying to get into their place at night looking to score some cash or that some cop will stop them in the middle of the street because they think you look like a thug, so you must be up to no good.

  Yeah, having to come to Pembroke Middle School is fucking painful. To have to stand there and witness how the other half lives is just another slap in the face reminding me how our worlds differ, solely based on how much plata their mommies and daddies have in their bank accounts. Whoever said money can’t buy you happiness is a fucking liar because, from where I’m standing, these assholes look pretty fucking happy to me.

  As usual, I wait by the school’s gate while Aunt Maggie goes inside to fetch Boy Scout from whatever extracurricular activity he’s being held up at. I lean back against the iron bars, sneering at each pretentious prick that passes me by when a familiar yelp grabs my attention. At first, I think I must have imagined it, but when I hear the annoying high-pitched growl again, I know exactly who is behind the sound. I’ve heard it enough times by now to have it etched in my memory. Every time little Elle Grayson shows up at Chad’s house and I’m there, she usually tries to level me with that same aggravated snarl.

  Looks like someone else made it on her shitlist.

  Whatever. Not my problem.

  Aunt Maggie ordered me to stay in this spot, and that’s precisely what I intend to do. I’m not moving an inch to check on whatever drama ‘little miss goodie two shoes’ is up to now.

  “Stop!” she yells, loud enough for the other kids that are leaving the school to hear. But none of them even bother to stop or ask one of the adults standing around to go and check out what’s going on with their classmate.

  If her own friends won’t help her, then why should I?

  I roll my tongue over my upper teeth, wondering what the hell is taking my aunt and Chad so long, doing everything in my power to tune out Elle’s wails for help.

  Nope. Don’t do it, Saint.

  But when I hear another strangled whelp followed by a sinister taunting laugh, my feet are already moving of their own accord before I have time to talk myself out of stepping foot onto school grounds. I push my way through the crowd, rushing in the direction of where the heated voices are coming from.

  “Give them back, Manning!” Her uptight girly voice continues to shriek.

  “What are you going to do, Grayson? Cry?” A gruff voice teases.

  When I turn the corner of the main building to where the recess playground area is, my eyes find the most despicable sight. A tower of a kid, with too much brawn for his age and little sense in his tiny brain, dangles a pair of ballerina slippers on top of Elle’s head. It’s not a hard feat for him to accomplish since he’s huge, and well, Princess is as small as a key chain. In her school uniform, she jumps up and down to try and steal back her shoes from the big oaf in front of her. I really wish she wouldn’t do that shit, though. Her little skirt flies up with every jump, and the idiot who’s holding her slippers hostage is getting an eyeful.

  “I said give them back!” she yells again, this time punching his gut, but the fucker just smiles widely at her since it’s obvious he didn’t feel a thing.

  “What will you give me in return, huh?”

  “How about a kick to the balls, asshole?” she retorts, her face red with rage.

  I’ve got to give it to the girl. She’s got fire in her. Most kids her age would have pissed their pants with such a big bully tormenting them. But Princess is a little spitfire. Hell, if I don’t scare her, then this idiot sure as hell won’t either, no matter how big he is.

  “Oh, come on now, Grayson. Just give me a little tear. Even your pansy-ass brothers were caught crying like babies yesterday in the bathrooms. We all know you Graysons are nothing but weak-ass pussies. So give me what I want. Cry for me, Elle. Let me see them drop.” He continues to harass her, the twinkle in his eyes showing how much he would love it if she did shed a tear for him. My blood starts to boil at the fucker’s idea of fun.

  What a fucking bastard.

  I’ve seen a lot of shit in my life, but who the fuck takes pleasure in someone else’s pain like that?

  These rich pricks have no motherfucking heart.

  “I mean it, Manning! You give me back my ballet slippers, or I’ll have your balls!” she screeches, resorting to jumping once again to grasp the shoes in his hands.

  I wish she would just sucker punch him in the nads and get it over with. This shit is painful to watch. Her bully just laughs, loving that he’s toying with her like this and no one is stopping him. Little does he know I’m seconds away from knocking his teeth in. I crack my neck, counting to ten to contain my anger like Doc taught me. Hitting a rich prick like this one might be more trouble than he’s worth. Unlike Elle, I don’t have a hefty trust fund to get me out of trouble. And this douche has all the trademarks of snitching to Mommy and Daddy if he gets his ass handed to him.

  “Come on now, Elle. Just give me one tear. Just one, and I’ll give these back to you.”

  “Screw you, asshole!” she bites back, and I can’t help but grin at little Princess’s pouty mouth.

  Unlike Boy Scout, she’s not scared of cursing a fucker out. I’ve never met someone so tiny with so much pent-up anger in them. It’s almost as if I’m looking in the mirror sometimes, which is confusing as shit since she has no excuse to be angry. I mean, Elle has the whole world at her feet, while I have nothing.

  No, not nothing.

  I still have my mom.

  She lost hers.

  The dickhead continues to get in her face, looking down at her with such an obnoxious grin plastered to his ugly ass mug, my hands instantly ball into fists.

  “What are you going to do, Elle? You think you’re tough shit, but you’re nothing but a spoiled little rich bitch like your mother.”

  Elle’s eyes begin to water, her anger rising at each crude word that leaves her bully’s lips.

  “Why don’t you do the world a favor and fall into oncoming traffic like her, huh? It will be one less Grayson the world has to deal with.”

  “I’ll kill you!” she seethes, kicking him in the shins with all the strength she has in those toothpick legs of hers.

  When I see her shaking with fury, her tears threatening to come out and give this jerk exactly what he wants, I fucking lose it. I don’t know why, but the animal in me wants to rip this prick’s throat out.

  “Not if I kill you first,” he retorts menacingly, pure venom in his glower.

  “Not on my watch, motherfucker! Give her back her shoes,” I growl, having had enough of this little shitshow.

  The big gorilla turns his head over his shoulder with surprise and confusion marring his features as he watches me approach. I rush to Elle’s side and attempt to push her behind me, but the little firecracker isn’t having it, preferring to stand her ground and keep this kid in her sights.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m the guy who’s about to rearrange your face if you don’t give Elle back her stuff,” I threaten, throwing him my own version of a sinister fucked-up grin, just to show the fucker he’s not the only one who can pull it off.

  �
��Fuck off,” he huffs, taking two steps closer to the small girl at my side, but I step up in his face before he’s able to get any closer to her.

  “Are you deaf as well as stupid? I said give Elle back her stuff!”

  “Beat it, asshole. This is a private conversation.”

  “Not anymore. Now be a good fucking preppy and give the girl back her shoes before I lose my patience and take them out of your hands myself.”

  When I push him, his eyes go wide with rage. Apparently, he doesn’t like being shoved.

  Boo-fucking-hoo.

  As he looks me up and down, trying to see if he can take me on or not, I do the same assessment. He is just about my height, but he’s got a few more pounds on me. Not that I’m intimidated. I’ve gotten guys bigger than him to cry like babies, and the idea of seeing this douche cry in front of Elle would make my day.

  He wanted tears, right?

  Let’s see how he likes it when he’s the one crying for his momma.

  “Do you know who I am?” he snarls in disgust as he continues to try and stare me down.

  “I couldn’t give two shits who you are. All I see is a big bully tormenting a little girl.”

  I look over my shoulder and stifle the chuckle that’s threatening to come out with the way Elle is throwing daggers in my direction with that tiny remark.

  “Go back to where you came from if you know what’s good for you. Trust me. You don’t want a piece of me.” He scoffs, puffing his chest out like that will scare me.

  “Actually, I think I do. So, unless you give Elle back her stuff, that’s exactly what’s going to happen here. What’s it going to be? You going to give her back her shoes, or are you going to leave here with some loose front teeth? Your choice.”

  He grinds his teeth menacingly, but he’s unable to hide the sliver of fear in his eyes.

  Just as I had predicted—he’s all bark and no bite.

  That’s the thing with bullies. They’re all a bunch of cowards underneath it all. Spineless little shits who only go after those they think are weaker than them. Elle might be fearless, but her tiny stature makes her an easy target for assholes like him. In his mind, she’s easy prey. That’s the only reason why he went after her in the first place.

  Still sneering away, he finally drops Elle’s pink ballet slippers to the ground. But just like the jerk he is, he can’t help making one last dickish remark as he rubs the sole of his muddy shoe on top of one of hers.

  “See you around, bed wetter,” he taunts.

  The red blush that rises on Elle’s cheeks makes me wish I’d followed my first instincts and just punched the dickwad. When he turns the corner of the building, leaving us alone, Elle scurries to pick up her ballet slippers, shoving them into her pink backpack without even cleaning the mud off. I stand back and watch her as she tries to fix her hair and clothes to look like the untouchable princess she is.

  “You know a thank you won’t kill you.”

  “And why should I thank you for anything? I had it handled,” she retorts, still pissed someone got the drop on her.

  “Sure you did, Princess. That’s why you were seconds away from giving that shit-for-brains what he wanted.”

  “No, I wasn’t!”

  “No? Cause it kind of looked like you were about to cry.”

  She lets out a long, exaggerated exhale before stepping toward me, jabbing her slender finger into my chest.

  “I said I had it handled!” she roars.

  “Sure you did.”

  “Argh! You are impossible!”

  “Ditto, Princess.”

  She lets out another scoff and turns her back to me, but I hold onto her elbow before she’s able to get away.

  “Next time, don’t waste your breath threatening that prick when he gets in your face. He won’t get the hint about not messing with you if all you give him are idle threats. Just knee him in the junk or jab him in the eyes before he gets a word in. Trust me, he’ll think twice before fucking with you again.”

  “Let go of me, or you’ll be the one being kicked in the balls.”

  I release my grip and throw my open palms in the air.

  “Whatever, Princess. Live in your made-up pink bubble, for all I care. I was just trying to help.”

  “I don’t need your help!” she yells one more time before rushing away, trying to put as much distance as she can between us.

  I roll my eyes at the ungrateful brat, slip my hands in my front pockets, and trudge on behind her. When I turn the corner to the school’s main entrance, Elle is already being cradled in Chad’s arms.

  “Hey, you okay?” I hear him ask, worry furrowing his brows.

  “I’m fine. It’s your new friend over there who doesn’t know when to mind his business.”

  He throws me a suspicious look with those deep, inquisitive green eyes of his, but I keep my expression blank at her accusation. He kisses the top of her head before letting her go, revealing a sweet smile that’s meant only for her.

  “Do you want a ride back to your place? Mags can take you,” he asks softly, swiping a lock of her chestnut hair away from her forehead.

  “No, I’m fine. I have ballet practice today. I’m just waiting for Rome to pick me up.”

  “Okay. Do you want me to wait with you?”

  “No. I’d rather you didn’t,” she replies, throwing a quick displeased gaze my way.

  “Your girlfriend doesn’t like me too much,” I tease, gaining a blush on her apple cheeks.

  “God, are you always this annoying? Seriously.” She huffs.

  “What can I say? You bring out the best in me.”

  She sends me another death glare before telling Chad she’ll call him later and rushing off to God knows where. Chad is about to open his mouth to ask me what happened between me and his BFF, just as my aunt appears.

  “There you two are. I’ve been looking all over for you. Come on. We’re late as it is,” she reprimands, ushering us out of the school and into the Murphy’s Town Car. Chad and I take the back seat while she takes the front one with his family’s chauffeur.

  “What happened back there?” Chad interrogates me when he’s sure my aunt and his driver are too wrapped up in their own conversation up front to pay us any mind.

  “Your little princess was being bullied by some kid and got pissed when I put a stop to it. That’s what happened.”

  “Who was it?” he asks, furious, clenching his fists against his thighs.

  “We didn’t make introductions, but I heard her call him Manning.”

  “Trevor. I should have figured it was him giving her a hard time.” He shakes his head before looking out the window, deep in thought.

  “Why does he have it out for shortstop? He into her or something?”

  Chad snaps his head my way with his eyes wide in rage.

  “Why the hell would you say something like that?” Chad growls, upset at my question.

  “Dude, chill, will ya? Don’t get your panties in a bunch. Playground spats between a guy and a girl usually mean the idiot likes the chick he’s hassling and thinks taunting her is the only way to get on her radar.”

  “That’s not what this is.” He thins his lips into a thin disgruntled line.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. Just drop it, okay?”

  “Whatever, man. Not my problem anyway,” I grumble, turning my head away from him.

  After a long bout of silence, Chad places his hand on my knee, making me bite my inner cheek at the intimate touch.

  “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I didn’t mean to,” he whispers, his earnest eyes pleading with mine.

  I swallow dryly, uncomfortable with how beautiful his eyes are when I’m the only person they’re focused on. He must realize my uneasiness because he quickly removes his hand.

  “So what’s the kid’s deal? Trevor, I mean,” I ask, trying to move past the awkward moment between us. />
  “He just doesn’t like other people holding the spotlight. The Graysons rule the school, and he just can’t handle being number two.”

  I place a finger inside my mouth and pretend to barf.

  “Jesus. Just when I thought you privileged assholes couldn’t get any lamer.”

  “You don’t have that type of stuff happen at your school?”

  “You mean bullies? Yeah, of course, we do. But they don’t do it to win points in some lame-ass popularity contest like you guys, and they sure as shit don’t go after little girls. My reality is totally different than yours, Boy Scout.”

  “Hmm. Maybe in a few years, when we go off to high school, things will get better.”

  I laugh at his optimism. If middle school is hard, then high school will be fucking hell.

  “Not for me. Right now, all I have to worry about is getting jumped for loose change. In high school, every gang within a ten-mile radius will be busting my balls until they recruit me to push their drugs for them. And if I don’t fall in line, they’ll make sure to teach me a lesson until I give up and become their little bitch.”

  “You make high school sound like some prison movie.”

  “It’s not far from it. I can guarantee you most of the kids I hang with now will end up in jail eventually. High school is just practice for what’s to come.”

  “I had no idea.” He frowns.

  “How could you, Blondie? Your world reeks of sparkling rainbows and shit.” I chuckle, nudging his shoulder with mine, hoping it’s enough to lighten the mood.

  “Maybe I’ll just have to kidnap you into my world to save you then,” he teases, wiggling his blond eyebrows at me.

  “I don’t need saving,” I bite back, uncomfortable with how my heart is racing at his words.

  “Everyone needs saving, Saint. They just don’t know it.”

  Chapter 7

  Elle

  I throw my bag onto the floor and slouch on the bench while waiting for my brother to pick me up. Ballet sucked extra hard today. No matter how hard I tried to focus, I couldn’t stop thinking about that jerk Trevor Manning and stupid-face Santiago García. But I should have figured with the wake-up call I got this morning that the rest of my day would suck balls. My father never wakes me up before school, but today he made the exception by throwing a gossip magazine in my face before I had even cracked an eye open.