Ruthless (The Privileged of Pembroke High #4)

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Ruthless (The Privileged of Pembroke High #4) Page 8

by Ivy Fox


  Yeah, no way am I getting close to either of them right now.

  Elle continues to struggle out from under Saint, her eyes filled with amusement when she sees I’m not moving an inch from my spot to help him in his endeavor.

  “See? He’s not going to help you. Chad knows I won fair and square.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.”

  “Argh! You are so annoying!”

  “Then why are you smiling?”

  He’s right. She is.

  Why are you smiling, Elle?

  I shake that question out from my mind and walk closer to both of them to end this once and for all.

  “You made your point, Saint. Now let her go.”

  He tilts his head my way, running his tongue over his front teeth. My Adam’s apple bobs furiously when his eyes fall to the unmistakable bulge in my shorts.

  “Nah, I think I’m fine right here.” He winks.

  “I swear to God, Santiago, if you don’t get off of me this very minute, I’m going to make sure you never have kids.”

  “Aw, ain’t that cute. Little Elle here is thinking about my junk. A lot of that going on, huh, Boy Scout?”

  Elle’s cheeks turn a beautiful shade of pink while heat rises from the soles of my feet to the top of my head in embarrassment. I shift my swollen cock to the side the minute I’m sure neither one of them will notice.

  “Don’t make me have to separate you two and give you a time out,” I try to play it off, but my voice comes out sultry instead of playful.

  “No, you won’t,” Saint continues to provoke, throwing me yet another conspiring smirk. He then turns his attention back to the girl underneath him—the same one who is no longer squirming away but breathing heavily instead. “Tell him, Princess. Tell him that you want him to come down here and join us. I know you want to,” he whispers in her ear, loud enough for me to hear every word.

  Elle swallows dryly, her chest heaving up and down as her gaze leaves Saint’s face and fixes onto mine. My hands clench beside me as I try my hardest to look relaxed rather than giving her a glimpse of the chaos running rampant in my mind. It’s a feat of monumental proportions since having to witness Elle’s legs slung over Saint’s waist is excruciating as well as the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

  “Do you need me to come over there and save you, babe?” I ask hoarsely, the gruff sound of my voice completely alien to me.

  Slowly she shakes her head, taking her time to just stare into my eyes. A pregnant pause ensues, and I swear the only sounds that can be heard inside my bedroom are that of our pounding heartbeats in sync with one another.

  “I’m no princess in need of saving,” Elle finally states, breaking the silence that was wreaking havoc on my sanity. “But I could use a hand showing this big jerk some manners.”

  “That’s not the Elle I know. She can take anyone down. Even Saint.”

  “You’re right. I can.” A wicked grin tugs at her upper lip before she leans seductively into Saint’s neck, causing both of us to hold our breaths.

  Suddenly time slows down as if someone has purposely changed the laws of physics just so I wouldn’t miss a single second. My heart pounds erratically as Saint tilts his neck to the side just a smidge, almost as if he’s baiting Elle to do her worst. When her mouth leans in, and her lips are about to press against his tanned skin, I don’t know if I should close my eyes to spare myself the heartache or keep them wide open in anticipation of what’s to come. My words to stop her stay lodged in my throat, too overcome with the contradictory emotions I’m experiencing to pull a single sentence together.

  When her lids close, so do mine, knowing I lost my window of opportunity to stop this insanity from taking place.

  She’s going to kiss him.

  But instead of the moan that I was fearful to hear leaving Saint’s lips once Elle kissed his neck, it’s an aggravated growl of pain that slices the tension in the room.

  “Fuck!” Saint yells. “Get off me, you little devil!”

  I open my eyes and see Saint struggling to pull Elle’s canine teeth away from his neck. Instead of the hickey that I expected to see marked on his body, she’s branded him with her sharp teeth. Relief swiftly loosens the knot in my chest at the comical sight, and I take the first gulp of air into my lungs since I stepped foot in my room.

  “I knew you had claws, but I forgot you had teeth, too.” Saint laughs as he puts some distance between himself and his attacker.

  “Ah honey, your ass got off lightly. Next time, you better remember not to mess with me,” she warns with a menacing finger pointing at his face while pulling herself up to her feet.

  Both Saint and I continue to laugh, staring at the unrepentant golden-eyed girl in front of us. Elle is a force of nature to be reckoned with.

  Always has been, always will be.

  It’s times like these when she reminds us of how fearless she is, that a piece of my heart breaks apart, flying away from my chest only to find purchase in her hands. She’s been through so much these last few years, and to see her like this—free from the burden of her family name—makes my heart swell with pride.

  However, the moment is ruined when her phone goes off.

  “Oh crap. I’ve got to go. That’s Rome telling me he’s downstairs waiting to take me home,” she explains, rushing barefoot around the room to find her Chucks.

  “You wouldn’t be a princess if you didn’t have people at your beck and call.”

  “Bite me, Santiago.”

  “Next time, I might.”

  “Hardy har har.”

  Once she finds her shoes and bag, Elle brushes past him, making sure to clip him on the shoulder with her hip hoping he falls back flat onto the carpet. It’s the only way she can knock either of us down since both Saint and I have grown to an impressive 6 feet over the summer, while Elle continues to be a tiny little thing.

  “See you tomorrow?” she asks me, her sparkling light whiskey eyes still filled with relaxed joy.

  “I’ll be here.”

  “Me too, Princess,” Saint chimes in behind her.

  “I didn’t ask you,” she rebukes, throwing him her best-annoyed glare over her shoulder.

  “Always with the lip. One day that mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble.”

  She rolls her eyes dismissing him completely, and comes over to me to give me a goodbye hug. I’m not sure if it’s the remnants of overwhelming feelings still lingering inside me, but I hold onto her for a little longer than usual.

  “Everything okay?” she questions with an arched brow once I let go, sensing that something isn’t quite right with me.

  I nod and offer her a sweet smile instead of telling her what’s on my mind. Not that I would be able to put into words the reason behind me needing to keep her close to me, anyway. Nor would I be able to explain the reason behind what I do next.

  Before Elle turns around to leave, I grab her elbow lightly and lean in to kiss her cheek. Any other day she wouldn’t think anything of my chaste kiss. But that isn’t the case today. Instead of pressing my lips to the center of her apple cheeks, I make sure to catch the corner of her lips with mine. That lovely pink hue Saint had gotten out of her just a few minutes earlier is back on her face, making me feel ten feet tall.

  “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.” She smiles shyly, batting her thick eyelashes at me. “Later, jerk.” She waves Saint off.

  He throws her the bird, but she’s already halfway down the hall to see it.

  “I’ve gotta remember that one has a mean streak in her,” he mumbles, rubbing at his neck.

  He pushes himself off the floor to sit on the edge of my bed, trying to see how bad his injury is.

  I take a seat next to him, shift the neck of his T-shirt just enough for me to inspect the damage Elle made with her teeth.

  “We should disinfect that. She managed to pierce the skin.”

  “Nah
, leave it. A little blood isn’t going to kill me. Besides, I’ve gotta bounce, too. I promised Mom that I would have dinner with her at the diner tonight.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  I try not to sound disappointed, but we both know I am. I like the nights he stays over long enough to have dinner with me. It’s not only because I like the company, but it’s usually around the time Mags goes home, too. Knowing Saint will have a full stomach and someone to accompany him home settles my anxious state. I don’t like it when he walks back to East Harlem at night all on his own, but telling him as much will only make him tease me that I’m way too overprotective or shielded. Once I made the mistake of offering to have my parents’ driver take him home, and he just laughed in my face. However, he doesn’t put up a fight against the Town Car when his aunt accompanies him home.

  “What time are you coming over tomorrow?” I ask, instead of confessing where my head is at.

  “After I do my laps at the Y, I should be here around two. Got an appointment to get my head shrunk by your mom, and you know how she gets every time I blow the session off. Wouldn’t want to piss off Dr. Valerie Murphy, now would we?” he teases with a mischievous gleam in his dark eyes. “See ya tomorrow, Boy Scout.”

  I nod, but then my breath catches in my throat when Saint leans into me and kisses my cheek just as close to my mouth as I had done to Elle. He throws me another roguish wink, gets up off the bed, and walks out of my room as if nothing happened.

  The minute he’s gone, I fall back onto my mattress, covering my eyes with my forearm. I’m still trying to curtail my heart rate when a soft knock on my door grabs my attention.

  “Is everything okay, sweetheart?” my mom asks, an inquisitive glimmer playing in her green eyes.

  “I guess,” I reply on autopilot, sitting back up.

  “Well, that sure doesn’t sound too convincing,” she retorts, taking a seat on the edge of my bed. “What’s on your mind?”

  My teeth maul over my lower lip, wondering if it’s such a good idea to open up to my mother regarding the overwhelming feelings I’ve been slammed with recently, anytime I’m near my two best friends. I’m sure it’s a problem she would love to psychoanalyze, but I’m not inclined to give her a look inside into my tumultuous mind. Unfortunately, my mother’s curiosity needs to be sated, so I might as well give her something that has me equally worried.

  “Dad said something earlier in the kitchen that I’m still wracking my brain over.”

  “Oh? What did he say?”

  “He said that everything is going to change once school starts, and I think he might be right. With Elle and me starting Pembroke next month and Saint heading up to East River High, I’m not sure things can stay the same. Not how they are now, anyway.”

  “Ahh, I see. You’re worried Saint will make new friends and forget about you.”

  “Elle, too,” I admit painfully.

  “I doubt Elle could ever forget you. You’re her best friend.”

  Elle is more than my best friend.

  She’s a part of me, and I’m a part of her.

  But I can’t say those words to my mother. She would end up analyzing them or worse, completely dismissing my feelings and labeling them as teen angst or some nonsense like that. Confessing that Saint has become equally important to me would only open up a can of worms that my eager mother would be biting at the seams to tackle.

  Yeah, that will be a hard pass from me, thanks.

  There is no way I’m having this conversation with my mother. Even if I wanted to talk to someone, I wouldn’t even know where to begin to make sense of what I’m feeling. How could I explain that my mind and my heart are both at war with each other? That I feel my soul is constantly divided and unified at the same time? That jealousy and longing fill me in equal measure, haunting me day in and day out. I don’t understand what’s going on with me, so how could I ever be expected to make someone else grasp the turmoil that’s afflicting me?

  “Hmm. All of this is truly troubling you, isn’t it?” my mother softly asks, gently running her thumb over my wrinkled forehead.

  “I just wish we could all stay together. It’s not fair that Elle and I can have the best education money can buy while Saint goes off to a public school with gang bangers. He’s just as intelligent as we are. Maybe even more so, considering he never had private tutoring like Elle and I have had all our lives.”

  “I see. This is an ethical dilemma you are struggling with. The knowledge that your privilege isn’t always fair is a good thing to debate over. It means you are aware of the injustices around you rather than only seeing what it can afford you.”

  “So, how do I use my privilege to help Saint?” I ask expectantly, the shine in my mother’s emerald eyes giving me hope.

  “Oh, I think if we put our heads together, we might come up with a solution—one that I’m sure will settle your anxious heart.”

  I sure hope so since it’s my heart that’s the real problem.

  Chapter 9

  Saint

  “A scholarship?” I repeat, still unsure of what Chad’s parents’ deal is.

  “Yes,” his mom singsongs as she sips her tea, apparently pleased with the idea. “Chadwick will start his freshman year at Pembroke High in a couple of weeks, and we thought wouldn’t it be wonderful if you could join him there, too. You’re a perfect candidate for the school, Santiago. Even if you’re a little rough around the edges.” She cocks a knowing eyebrow at me.

  “Perfect candidate, huh?”

  “You sound unsure.”

  “Nah, Doc. Getting scholarships to fancy schools happens to me all the time. I’m the epitome of an exemplary candidate.”

  “Don’t be a smartass, Santiago, and please stop selling yourself short. You are highly intelligent and extremely gifted athletically—two traits Pembroke High values in their students. Now before you shut the idea down completely, I have to tell you that I already ran the idea past your mother, and as I expected, she’s ecstatic about the opportunity. Derek and I took the liberty of speaking to the school board ourselves on your behalf, and wouldn’t you know? They are just as excited about you attending as we are.”

  “Sure they are,” I snicker.

  No way would an elitist school like Pembroke High be thrilled at having me walk through their halls. As the good old saying goes—if it’s too good to be true, then it’s probably bullshit.

  “Pembroke needs to show some diversity. They aren’t known for having much of it,” Derek chimes in, answering my skepticism.

  To his politically correct wife’s chagrin, Derek Murphy has never been one to mince his words. I can always count on Chad’s dad to tell it to me straight. When I first met him, I thought he was a weirdo—always talking to himself in the hallways, unresponsive anytime someone called out his name. But now, his eccentric behavior has grown on me, especially at times like these when his unfiltered attitude ends up putting all the cards on the table for me.

  So that’s the school’s deal. They need some colorful faces in their student body and thought my Dominican ass would give them the necessary spice to liven up their normal plain vanilla shake.

  “In other words, this scholarship is a handout to improve their stuck-up optics.” I cross my arms over my chest, testing the good doc to deny it.

  “We see it more like a golden academic opportunity,” she counters with a buoyant grin, hope still swimming in her forest-green eyes.

  No matter how she wants to paint it, I still see this unexpected scholarship as charity for me and a marketing strategy for them—both scenarios leaving a definite foul taste in my mouth.

  “River Heights suits me just fine.”

  “But it shouldn’t, Santiago. It’s a public school in one of the worst neighborhoods in East Harlem. You can’t expect to get much of an education when you’re worried about your safety. I mean, just last year, five of their students were shot in a drive-by while on school ground
s. You can’t stand there and expect me to believe you aren’t the least bit concerned about your welfare.”

  “I can get shot just walking the street, Doc. Why should school be any different?” I shrug, puffing out my chest to show her I’m not scared.

  “You’re being difficult.” She huffs out in annoyance, placing her teacup on its saucer.

  “Have I ever not been difficult, Doc?” I wink at her.

  A trace of a smile tugs at her lips, yet she tries her best to hide it to prevent encouraging my smart mouth. I’ve been coming to Doc’s therapy session long enough for her to distinguish when I’m being a dick for dick’s sake and when I honestly mean the shit I’m saying.

  “Will you consider it at least? I know it would make Chadwick happy to see you every day,” her husband interjects beside her.

  Say what you will about the quirky writer, but he’s one smart cookie. Sure, he might be all up in his head most of the time, talking to himself and looking like he doesn’t know how a razor works, but he is as clever as they come. While Doc tries to entice me to go to this hefty-price-tag school with promises of safety and better education, Derek just goes for the jugular and pinpoints the one thing that would actually persuade me to attend such a school—his son.

  Fucking Boy Scout is my Achilles heel, and he knows it.

  “I’ll consider it.” I roll my tongue over my teeth, hating how he can read me so transparently.

  “Don’t wait too long. Pembroke High isn’t fond of being kept waiting. We need to give them an answer by the end of the week,” Doc adds, sensing my reluctance wavering.

  I haven’t even accepted this school’s offer yet, and already their demands are pissing me off.

  “Fine. Can I go now?”

  Doc scrunches her nose but gives me one of her nods to say I’m free to leave. It’s not even four in the afternoon yet, so Tía won’t be able to take me home today. If Boy Scout were here, I’d spend some time in his room goofing off until I could bum a ride with her, but he’s at some lame birthday party with Princess today. I guess if I attend the snobby high school with them, then I’ll probably have to start attending those types of snoozefests, too.

 

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