Ruthless (The Privileged of Pembroke High #4)

by Ivy Fox

  “I’m serious, Saint. Don’t you even try it.”

  “Try what? This?” I cock a brow, placing my hands on her waist. Her fingernails dig deep into my knuckles, but I bear the pain because the feral look in her eyes is just too damn amusing for me to pull away. “Or this,” I provoke, pulling her chest to settle against mine.

  “I swear to God, if you don’t let go of me this very second, I’ll knee you in the junk.”

  “There you go again. What is your fixation with my dick?”

  Her jaw goes agape, causing me to laugh in her face.

  “God, I hate you!”

  “Sentiment is mutual, Princess.”

  “What does Chad even see in you?!”

  “Again, I can say the same thing,” I bark through gritted teeth, no longer amused with her smart mouth.

  “I’m his best friend. You’re just—”

  “I’m just what?”

  “His charity project!”

  “You’re a fucking bitch. You know that?!”

  “And you’re an asshole!”

  We’re so consumed with being in each other’s faces we don’t realize that our mouths are just a hair’s breadth away from each other until it’s too late.

  “I hate you,” she repeats with less steam in her tone.

  “I hate you more,” I reply hoarsely.

  When her tongue peeks out to moisten her lower lip, something snaps inside me, and I do the unimaginable.

  I kiss Elle Grayson—the fucking bane of my existence.

  Her nails let go of my hands in favor of wrapping her arms around my neck. I pick her up off the bench, her legs instinctively hugging my waist as my tongue parts the seal of her strawberry lips. I groan into her mouth the instant our tongues touch. My heart pounds erratically as her fingers pull the ends of my hair.

  While Chad tasted like sweet sunshine, Elle tastes like wildfire.

  I turn us around and slam her back against the wall. The little whimper that passes through her lips has me hard as steel.

  “Princess,” I grumble, my hard-on painful with the way her small frame rubs against it.

  But it’s the sound of my lust-filled voice that breaks the spell we are under. Wide-eyed and horrified, she pulls away from me, slapping my cheek so I can wake up from this moment of insanity. Gently I put her back down on her feet, both of us breathing erratically and trying to make sense of what just happened. We’re both still shellshocked when the door cracks open, revealing amber eyes with a familiar loathing gleam staring back at us.

  “The fuck is going on in here?!” yells the golden-eyed stranger, pulling Elle away from me.

  I’m at a loss for words, but thankfully, Elle has found her voice.

  “Roman! What are you doing here?!” She slaps his chest, forcing him to let her go.

  “Don’t Roman me, Elle. What the hell was happening in there?”

  “Nothing. We’re just playing a game.”

  “Well, playtime is over. I’m taking you home.”

  “But I just got here!” she protests.

  “I don’t care. Thank God Addy convinced me to come to this thing to check up on you. If she hadn’t, who knows what could have happened.”

  Elle’s devil eyes fall on the girl behind me, who I assume is her older brother’s girlfriend. A black-haired, fine-looking thing smirks at Elle, and my knee-jerk reaction is to wipe that ugly triumphant look off her face.

  It’s official.

  Pembroke High girls are all bitches in the making.

  “Come on. We’re leaving,” Roman orders, throwing me a menacing stare.

  I flip him the finger, but he’s unable to see it as he already turned his back to me.

  My gaze is fixed on the retreating trio until Chad’s somber face flashes through my mind. I look around the balcony in search of him, wondering where he could possibly be at.

  I anxiously walk around the drunken party crowd and breathe a sigh of relief when I catch a glimpse of his wavy blonde hair at the end of the long patio. He’s leaning against the beam, staring down at the New York traffic below. I silently slide next to him, my forearms finding purchase on the railing. We stay like that for what feels like forever, a crippling silence pushing us away from each other.

  “Did you kiss her?” he asks, at last, unable to look me in the eye.

  “No.”

  The tension in his shoulders evaporates with the lie, jealousy consuming me from within.

  “Would it have bothered you if I did?”

  His refusal to reply is enough of an answer.

  “Why haven’t you ever tried anything then?”

  I hate that, once again, I’m met with dead silence.

  “Is it because you think she’s too young? Because I can tell you right now, she’s not. Girls her age back at my old school get knocked up all the time. Seriously, why haven’t you and Princess ever hooked up?”

  He chews on his lower lip, deep in thought.

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Life’s complicated. Kissing the girl you like isn’t.”

  He lets out a long sigh.

  “Elle is my best friend. The person I treasure most in this world. If I went there with her and fucked it up somehow, then I would lose her. And losing her is not an option. She means too much to me.”

  “Hate to burst your bubble, but one day some guy is not going to be as chivalrous as you. He won’t give two shits about any of that. He’ll take her because he wants her.”

  Case in point, what I just did not five minutes ago.

  “I have plenty of time to cross that bridge when I come to it.”

  “Time is fickle, Boy Scout. Sooner or later, it’ll run out on you.”

  “When did you get all philosophical on me?” he jokes, finally facing me.

  “Time is an expensive luxury that not all of us can pay the bill for. Take my advice or don’t. I don’t care. But make your peace with whatever you decide. Cause Princess isn’t going to stay put forever. Just saying.” I shrug.

  “Again, if that ever happens, I’ll deal with it. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for the people I care about.”

  “Do I fall into that category?”

  He throws me his golden smile.

  “You know you do.”

  Sensing the change in mood, I take advantage of it.

  “So, when you said you would do anything, does that mean I could get you to do or give me anything I wanted, too?”

  He crosses his arms over his chest, a wicked smile playing at his lips.

  “I think I proved that earlier, didn’t I? There’s nothing I would deny a friend.”

  “Anything?” I continue to taunt, his warm chuckle loosening the knot in my chest.

  “Yes!” He laughs. “All you have to do is ask, and it’s yours.”

  “What if I told you what I wanted was Elle?”

  The minute the words spill from my lips, Chad’s smile is wiped off his face.

  “You can have anything but her.”

  “Why not? Doesn’t seem like you want her either.”

  “Saint, I’m only going to say this once. Elle is my heart. I can give you anything you want, but not her. Never her. Is that understood?” He growls with an intensity I’ve never seen in him.

  “So, what you’re saying is your heart is off-limits?”

  “Yes. She already owns it.”

  Good to know.

  Good to fucking know.

  Chapter 13

  Chad

  I twist and turn in bed, unable to keep my troubled thoughts away long enough for sleep to take hold of me. Piercing black eyes keep me awake with fantasies that burn my skin just as his lips scorched mine. As my body begins to give in to the temptation willingly, my heart cracks down the middle with the memory of golden eyes staring back at me, hurt by the betrayal.

  I’m not sure which pivotal moment caused more wreckage to my sani
ty—the way Saint’s lips felt perfect against mine or the way Elle couldn’t look me in the eye afterward.

  I kick the bedsheet off my restless body and bring the pillow out from under my head to smother the scream that has been lodged in my throat since yesterday.

  I fucked up.

  I fucked up by kissing Saint.

  And I fucked up by hurting Elle.

  She’s never been insecure when it comes to me, and now I’ve given her reason to be.

  Unable to be in this dark room a minute longer, I forgo trying to get some sleep and head over to the kitchen in search of warm milk to see if it does the trick and provides me some semblance of tranquility. Once I have my hot cocoa in my hands, I sit down at the table, rubbing my chest and praying this heavy tightness will soon decrease.

  “You’re up early.” My father yawns as he enters the kitchen.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” I mumble back, running a finger up and down the placemat as I gaze at the nocturnal New York skyline.

  I’ve never been an envious person, but as I stare at the many dark windows, where everyone can just sleep blissfully without any concern or worry, envy is exactly what I feel. I’d give anything to trade places with them and put an end to the conflicting emotions I’m currently being overwhelmed by.

  “Everything alright?” my father questions, taking a seat next to me in our kitchen nook. “You seem upset.”

  “Upset is an understatement.”

  “Are you nervous about starting school tomorrow?”

  I shake my head.

  “Hmm, okay. Well, how about you tell me what’s on your mind? Maybe I can help. I’m not as logical as your mother, but maybe I’m not as useless as I seem.” He chuckles. “Lay it on me, Chadwick. What’s on your mind?”

  “Can you love two people at the same time?” The words are out of my mouth before I even realize I’ve said them out loud.

  “I love you and your mom equally. Does that count?”

  “Not what I meant,” I mumble, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. “Can you love two different people who aren’t related to you?”

  My divided heart waits on bated breath for my father’s response, but as his features sadden, the sickness inside me spreads.

  “I don’t think it’s possible, no. Not the answer you wanted, is it, son?”

  “Not by a long shot.”

  He places his hand over mine, trying to lessen the pain I’m feeling. I’m grateful that he’s even trying right now, but it still doesn’t settle my soul.

  “This is about Elle and Santiago, isn’t it?”

  My shocked gasp doesn’t go unnoticed by him, as his firm grip on my hand stops me from rushing out of the kitchen in embarrassment.

  “It’s alright to be confused, son. You’re young and at a stage in your life where everything seems overwhelming, including your feelings. Trust me, sooner or later, you will have clarity, and all of this turmoil will seem like a distant dream. Just give yourself time.”

  I maul my lower lip, my eyes bowed to the kitchen table, not wanting to look my father in the eye as I confess all my doubts.

  “What if I can’t make up my mind? What if I’ll never be able to figure out what I want? Who I am?”

  His soft chuckle is like a warm caress on my cheek.

  “You’re fifteen, Chadwick. Hardly at an age where you’ll have all the answers. Trust me. I’m well into my forties, and sometimes even I don’t know it all. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

  The fist inside my chest tightens at the thought that I will have to live with this uncertainty for the foreseeable future.

  “Can I offer a word of advice, though?” my father adds, sensing that his words haven’t settled my anxiety any. “Don’t encourage affection when you have none to give. It’s awfully cruel to let a person you care about believe that they belong to you, when in fact, you belong to someone else.”

  “I wouldn’t play with them like that,” I rebuke, offended he’d think I’d be capable of toying with Saint or Elle’s feelings.

  “I know you’ll try not to. But some things are unavoidable. Especially for a teenager whose hormones will be doing most of the decision making.”

  “Jesus, Dad. You make me sound like a perv.”

  He chuckles softly.

  “That wasn’t my intention. I just remember what it felt like to be your age and how sometimes my urges got the best of me. It’s easy to fall into temptation, especially when there are strong feelings attached for the other person in question.”

  I flatten the mat with my palms, trying to gather up the courage to ask the question burning on the tip of my tongue.

  “Dad, who would you choose?” I whisper.

  “I’m not the one who should be answering that question. In your heart of hearts, you’ll know who you truly care about.”

  “Please,” I beg, tilting my head up to meet his concerned gaze. “Just tell me who you think I should choose. I’m going insane trying to figure it out.”

  “Oh, my poor boy. I wish I could.”

  “Please, Dad. Please.” The agony in my tone slices my father’s sensitive heart.

  “You and Elle share a bond like no other. I’ve never seen two people so connected. So in tune with one another. But Santiago makes you more adventurous. He pushes you. That’s rare, too. In the end, I say choose yourself. At least for now.”

  “Yeah, okay,” I mumble in defeat.

  “Can I ask you what brought this on? Did something happen with one of them?”

  “I kissed Saint yesterday at Lace’s pool party, and I think Elle is angry at me because of it.”

  “Ahh, I see. Well, you know little Eleanor better than anyone. If you’re not comfortable with telling her what you just confided in me, then at least make an effort to explain that she is just as important in your life as Santiago is. You’d be surprised what a kind gesture can do to appease a scorned woman.”

  “She’s still just a girl.”

  “And you, my son, are just a boy, too. As I said, time is your friend. Don’t rush it.”

  He gets up from his seat and ruffles my hair before making his way out of the kitchen.

  “Hey, Dad?”

  “Yes?” He asks as he turns around to face me.

  “Thanks for not freaking out about me kissing Saint.”

  The genuine smile on his lips manages to ease the tension in my shoulders.

  “Love is love, Chadwick. It doesn’t matter who you find it with, as long as the person you give your heart to merits such a treasure.”

  With his smile still beaming brightly, my father then takes his early morning coffee into his study, where he’ll probably be locked away the entire day working. I’m grateful he took the time to talk to me, though. When I was younger, I resented feeling like I always came in second place in his life. Mom’s, too. But then these little encounters of ours happen regardless of our intense schedules, and I’m reminded that in the end, there is nothing more important than the people you hold dear to your heart.

  He’s right on another account. I don’t have to decide right now. Especially when these feelings are still so raw. So confusing. I know Saint well enough that he’ll just play off the kiss we shared yesterday as a joke. Even though I can still taste how his hungry tongue played with mine, he’ll never admit that it was more than just a game we played.

  Elle is a different story.

  When I learned that Rome came to pick her up and made a scene, I texted her non-stop to find out if she was okay. All the replies I got were either one-word answers or cold reactions—so unlike the girl who breathes fire into my veins.

  I need to make this right.

  She needs to know that I would never intentionally do anything to hurt her.

  I wasn’t bullshitting Saint yesterday when I told him that Elle owned my heart. She does. There is no question of her hold on it. But somewhere along the line, Saint managed to creep inside
of it, too, creating total chaos where there was once only certainty.

  Either from sleep deprivation or constant obsession, an idea comes to mind. One that brings hope that I can somehow repair the damage I caused with one single kiss. I pick up my phone and text Elle to meet me at eleven in the park. To my surprise, she replies within seconds, agreeing to meet up with me. Apparently, I’m not the only one who had a restless night. It kills me that I’m the cause of her insomnia.

  But I’ll make it right, Elle.

  I have to.

  Dad might be right that Saint challenges me to break the glass enclosure I’ve been confined to for most of my privileged life, but Elle has always been the one to keep me steady. The one to hold my hand and remind me that the ugly world outside will never touch us. She lets me breathe when I feel like I’m suffocating.

  I can’t lose her.

  I won’t.

  Even if that means bottling up these chaotic feelings inside me for just a while longer.

  I sprawl back on the picnic blanket, enjoying the August sun’s warmth on my face when a shadow blocks out the beaming rays. I open my eyes, my heart doing a double-take as a nervous Elle looks down at me, fidgeting left to right.

  “What’s this?” she asks, looking at the spread of mini sandwiches and cakes I got from her favorite bakery—the very one her mom used to go to when she was a kid. It’s the most underhanded thing I’ve ever done, using her mom’s memory in an attempt to soften her prickly demeanor toward me, but desperate times call for desperate measures. And right now, I’m the very definition of desperate.

  “What does it look like?” I tease softly, pulling at the hem of her skirt.

  “Like an apology.”

  It wouldn’t be Elle if she didn’t get right to the root of it.

  “Is there something I need to be apologizing for?” I cock my brow defiantly, egging her to confess why she’s been so cold with me over the past twenty-four hours.

  “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  I sit up and pull at her waist, wrapping my arms around her and cradling my head on her stomach, needing to feel her in my arms even if she’s furious with me. When she begins to toy with the ends of my hair, oxygen finally finds its way into my lungs.