Ruthless (The Privileged of Pembroke High #4)

by Ivy Fox

  He’s not the forgive-and-forget type.

  And it just so happens, neither am I.

  As Chad and Saint keep talking the shit over lunch, my eyes are fixed on that precise bully who can’t take his eyes off our table. It’s not long before Trevor’s lips twist in disgust when he catches me staring. I throw him my best fuck-you smile, to which he just sneers before getting up from his seat and leaving the cafeteria.

  Jerk.

  When my attention is brought back to the conversation at hand, my pulse picks up speed when I realize what Chad and Saint have been going on about for the past ten minutes while I was distracted with the douche canoe that is Trevor Manning.

  “Wait! Hold up! You slept over at Chad’s house last night?” I yell, feeling like I’m going to punch someone.

  Give me a reason, Saint.

  Any reason!

  “Ugh, yeah. What of it?” he quips back, stuffing his face with Chad’s fries.

  My nails sink into my palms just so I don’t slap the French fry out of his hand.

  “I thought you were over sleepovers. You told me they were childish,” I accuse my best friend.

  When shame and embarrassment tinge his cheeks, my heart begins to shatter.

  “I’m sorry, babe. Mom just doesn’t think I should sleep over at your house anymore.”

  “And why the hell not?!” I shout, getting up from my seat in protest. I slam my open palms on the table and lean my body halfway so he can look me in the eye as he explains himself. When Chad begins to purse his lips to the side, trying to find an answer that won’t hurt my feelings, my hackles rise. “Chadwick Murphy, don’t you dare lie to me! Why can’t you sleep over at my house anymore?”

  Saint scoffs, leaning back in his chair, his arms sprawled behind his head.

  “Sit your pretty ass back down, Princess. You’re making a scene and not the good kind.”

  “Shush, you! I’m talking to Chad. If I want to hear from the peanut gallery, then I’ll ask you for your input.”

  He flips me off, to which I double down by shoving both my middle fingers in his face.

  “Jesus, Elle. It’s not rocket science. Doc pulled the breaks on your sleepovers the minute you grew boobs. Which I gotta say look spectacular today. New bra?” He has the audacity to wink.

  But since I feel like I was just sucker-punched, I don’t even have the stamina to cuss him out. I slump back down into my chair, the wind officially being ripped from my sails with Saint’s explanation.

  “Is that true?”

  “I’m sorry, Elle. Mom’s just being vigilant. You get that, right?” Chad asks gently, pleading to my reasoning.

  “But she’s okay with Saint sleeping over?”

  “What can I say? Doc loves my ass. Also doesn’t hurt that I can’t get knocked up if Boy Scout here decides to do more than just spoon.”

  “Stop it. That isn’t funny,” Chad reprimands, throwing him a menacing look.

  “Wasn’t supposed to be.” Saint winks flirtatiously at my best friend while biting his french fry in half with his teeth.

  Saint’s cocky demeanor and Chad’s refusal to stand up to his mother on my behalf have made me lose my appetite. I get up from my seat, tray in hand, ready to put as much distance as possible between them and me.

  “Elle,” Chad pleads, holding on to my wrist. “Don’t leave.”

  My gaze bounces from him to the cocky asshole at his side.

  “I’m fine. I have a free period after lunch, and I need to get some studying done. I’ll see you in class.”

  Chad’s blonde brows crease in the center of his forehead, but thankfully he unlatches his grip on me, forcing himself to silence all the protests I see swimming in his green eyes. I rush out of the cafeteria before he has time to reconsider, or worse—before Saint comes up with another one of his witty remarks.

  Fuming, I head over to the library, hoping I’ll find a quiet little corner where I can hide and wallow in my frustration. Thankfully when I get there, no one is around to witness my meltdown. I pull up a chair, my head falling to my hands, wondering how Saint got the best of me once again. My mind is still on the asshole when I hear giggles of the evil variety coming from the back of the library, announcing that I’m not as alone here as I thought I was. It’s only when I hear Trevor’s familiar chuckle that the small hairs on the back of my neck begin to rise.

  I know that laugh.

  I’ve heard it plenty of times.

  It’s the same one that appears every time he’s making someone feel like shit—small and worthless.

  Oh, hell no.

  Not on my watch, asshole.

  My chair screeches across the floorboards in my haste to rush to wherever that ungodly laughter is coming from. I search meticulously in every row for Trevor, only to find him standing side by side with my brother’s evil bitch of a girlfriend. Both he and Addison are looming over a girl whose wild, curly hair covers her entire face as she continues to crouch under their intimidating stance. Even though she’s trying hard not to let them see her tears, they hear her frightened sniffles well enough.

  “Fat cows like you should always keep their mouths shut. If I hear you say my brother’s name ever again, I’ll make sure Trevor here teaches you a lesson. You hear me, you fat bitch?!”

  Trevor pulls on the girl’s hair, a loud shriek of pain coming from her.

  “I said, do you fucking understand? Oink if you can’t use words. Oink, you fat pig. Oink!”

  “Let her go!” I yell, running toward them.

  Addison’s spine goes ramrod straight, her fake smile suddenly beaming brightly the second she sees me running in her direction. But it’s too late. I caught her red-handed.

  “Shouldn’t you be in class, Elle? Rome won’t like it if I tell him you’ve been ditching.”

  “You know what my brother won’t like? Finding out his girlfriend takes pleasure in bullying freshmen,” I reprimand, placing my body in between the frightened, cowering girl and these two assholes.

  “I was doing no such thing,” Addison replies, acting appalled and placing her palms to her chest while an unrepentant Trevor just snickers beside her.

  “And you!” I poke a threatening finger into Trevor’s chest. “Don’t think Rome is going to be all that pleased when he finds out you’ve become Addison’s bitch boy, either.”

  “I’m no one’s bitch,” he snarls.

  “Could have fooled me. I’m looking at two right now.”

  “Eleanor,” Addison begins to say, pushing an enraged Trevor back a step, “I’d be careful what you are insinuating.”

  “No, Addy,” I spit out the revolting nickname. “I’d be careful who you make idle threats to. I can turn you from girlfriend material to yesterday’s forgotten hookup like that.” I snap my fingers to bring the point home. “Don’t fuck with me. You won’t win.”

  The way her nostrils flare tells me she got the message loud and clear.

  She’s lucky all I’m doing is threatening her because every bone in my body demands that I claw her eyes out.

  “Now beat it, the both of you. If I ever see either one of you harass this girl again, I won’t report you to Principal Greene. I’ll go straight to your mommies and daddies. Let’s see how they take the news from a Grayson that they are no longer welcome in esteemed high society because their offspring are a fucking embarrassment. Dare me, bitches. I’ll fucking ruin you.”

  Addison’s face flushes a deep red while Trevor looks like he wants to strike me down where I stand. Too bad for them that I’ve been desensitized by such ugly glowers from my father ever since the day I was born.

  I’m Teflon, bitches.

  You don’t scare me.

  “This is all a big misunderstanding, Elle. But I see that you’re upset, so we’ll talk about this another time when you’re thinking clearly.”

  “Don’t placate me with your lame theatrics. You can fool Rome by using that
rank ass coochie of yours, but you’re shit out of luck with me. I trust you as far as I can throw you. Just be happy that I won’t tell my brother what I stumbled upon here. But piss me off again, and you can kiss your relationship goodbye.”

  The only reason I won’t tell Rome that his girlfriend is a world-class bitch is because it’ll break my brother’s heart. He started dating Addison a year after our mom died, and in a way, she’s been the distraction he needed to move on. I’m just hoping sooner or later her mask will fall, and he’ll see Addison for who she truly is. Until then, I’ll keep my opinions to myself since the love I have for my brother is greater than my hatred for the Queen Bitch of Pembroke High.

  But my patience is running thin, and by the panicked look in her eye, she knows it, too.

  Addison grabs Trevor’s arm and pulls him away. Reluctantly, he follows her lead, all the while staring daggers at me. I flip him off with a wide, taunting smile, knowing that will just infuriate him more. Maybe I shouldn’t be taunting the bull, but right now, I couldn’t care less. He’s just lucky I didn’t beat his ass. I might be small, but I’m scrappy. It also doesn’t hurt that these last few years of Krav Maga training have made me feel stronger and more equipped to handle dickwads like him. Of course, I always prefer using my favorite weapon—my big mouth—to cut jerks like him down. Say what you will, but words cut just as deep as any weapon can, and being a Grayson makes me an expert on using just the right ones to cause unfathomable damage.

  I’m about to turn around and see if the girl behind me is okay when she takes off running past me. Worried, I chase after her but stop the minute I see she’s already found safety in the unlikeliest of places. Saint looks down at the teary-eyed girl in his arms, with a psychotic expression glued to his face. It only softens after she whispers something in his ear. She then proceeds to look over her shoulder and points at me with a shy, grateful smile cresting her lips.

  Slowly, I inch closer to them, feeling the warm pride beaming in my direction from Chad, while Saint does his best to clean the girl’s tears from her cheeks. His face looks like thunder as she continues to softly explain what happened. When I reach them, Saint hugs the girl to his side, placing a comforting arm around her trembling shoulders.

  “Heard you helped Maya out. Thanks for that,” he says, the genuine gratitude in his voice sounding odd to my ears.

  I just nod since his gratefulness has rendered me speechless. He mimics my nod before ushering Maya away. Chad watches them leave and then turns his attention back to me.

  “You did good, babe.” The pride in his voice evident.

  I roll my eyes because I’m still mad at him and head back to my table since that’s where I left my bookbag.

  “I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have done.”

  “Still doesn’t change the fact that I’m proud of you.”

  “Who cares? It won’t change the fact we can’t have any sleepovers anymore.” I pout, sitting on the edge of the table.

  “Hmm. You’re still upset about that, huh?”

  “Of course, I am.” I throw my arms in the air. “How are you not?”

  His emerald gaze softens, rubbing my cheek with the back of his knuckles to take the sting away.

  “You know how my mom gets. She doesn’t like me going over to your house to study, but I do it anyway. We’ve just got to adapt, babe. Things are bound to change as we get older.”

  But you said things would stay the same.

  You promised!

  Those are the words I want to throw in his face, but his loving stare leaves me just as tongue-tied as Saint managed to do just a few seconds ago.

  “It’s still not fair. Why is it that me having these prevents me from spending time with my best friend?” I rebuke once I’ve found my voice again.

  Chad groans, his eyes glued to where my hands are, cupping my breasts for emphasis.

  “You know I don’t usually agree with Saint when he mouths off, but you do look pretty today,” he croaks, chewing on his lower lip.

  “Me or my boobs?” I cock a flirtatious brow, inwardly doing cartwheels that Chad is unabashedly checking out my breasts.

  “Both,” he mumbles under his breath, a pink blush beautifully tainting his cheeks.

  “Too bad. If we had sleepovers, I might have been persuaded to let you cop a feel. Now you’ll never know.”

  “Now that’s not fair.” He laughs.

  “Those are the breaks. No sleepovers, no boobs.”

  “Challenge accepted. Now come here you.” He continues to chuckle while pulling me into his arms. Within seconds I melt in his embrace, loving how he softly strokes my back, erasing all the previous tension in it.

  “Things might change, but some things will always remain the same,” he whispers lovingly in my ear, running his fingers through my hair.

  “Yeah? Like what?” I mumble halfheartedly.

  “Like the fact that you’re my girl, Elle. Always and forever. Don’t ever forget that.”

  I close my eyes and hug him tightly, praying the whole time that this isn’t one of his many lies.

  Chapter 17

  Elle

  “Earth to Elle!” Ash teases, throwing a bagel at my head.

  “God! Will you stop?” I grunt, rubbing my forehead where it hit.

  “Nope. You’ve been in a piss-ass mood since we got to the Hamptons. It’s Fourth of July, baby! No time to be a sour puss.”

  “You are such a dork, Asher. Who says sour puss anymore? Gahhd.”

  “Please! He’s the dork. I’m the cool one.” Ash tilts his head at his twin.

  “Keep telling yourself that.” Ollie chuckles, popping a piece of his blueberry muffin into his mouth before throwing me a conspiratorial wink.

  I stare at my two unruly brothers, their sibling comradery soothing my anxious nerves.

  Ash is right.

  I have been in a mood since we arrived.

  Spending my summer vacation up in the Hamptons used to be the highlight of my year. I’ve always loved being at our beach house, spending time with my brothers away from the city and all its distractions. Here we could just be ourselves and enjoy our time with one another. Unfortunately, that blessed reprieve from city life is now tainted with the reminder that while I’m up here, Chad is spending his summer days and nights with the bane of my existence. I sincerely considered not coming at all this year, but when I overheard Saint talk about taking a summer job at some mechanic’s garage in Harlem, I figured he’d be too busy to spend much time alone with my best friend. Still, I’d feel better if I could keep an eye on them.

  “Ouch!” I yell when another bagel hits my head. “The hell, Ash?!”

  “You were doing it again. That scowl is going to give you premature wrinkles, sis. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

  “Bite me, Asher,” I retort, throwing a muffin right between his eyes. “Bullseye!”

  “Attagirl, Elle. Show him who he’s messing with,” Ollie praises, helping me along by throwing his own half-eaten muffin in Ash’s face.

  We’re both taking turns throwing our breakfast at our smart-mouthed brother, laughing as he shouts surrender, when a cold front decreases the temperature in the room, silencing our good time.

  “Children,” our father greets with a disapproving sneer.

  Our combined laughter halts the minute our father graces us with his presence and takes a seat at the table, dampening our mood.

  The other reason why my brothers and I enjoy our time in the Hamptons so much is because it’s synonymous with carefree days where we don’t feel our father’s influence in our lives. With the exception of the Fourth of July weekend, that is.

  He always manages to take time in his busy schedule to fly over in a chopper from Manhattan, just to make sure he doesn’t miss one Hampton soirée. Rubbing elbows with the powerful elite is Father’s second favorite pastime. The first is stealing his children’s happiness and joy.
r />   We begin to eat our breakfast in silence, not wanting to say or do anything where we have to bear the brunt of our father’s sadistic personality. It’s only when Rome arrives and takes the seat beside me that I feel I can finally breathe. He nudges me on the shoulder, and I grant him one of my genuine smiles. Nothing sets my soul at ease better than my big brother’s presence. He’s the only one who makes sure Ash, Ollie, and I feel loved and protected, no matter how hard our father tries to show us otherwise. It’s a burden Rome willingly added onto his shoulders when Mom passed. He’s the true paternal figure in our lives, and I know the twins and I would be lost without him.

  “You okay, rugrat? You seem a little off lately,” he asks, squeezing my knee below the table.

  “I’m fine.” I try to reassure him.

  “Hmm. You’re lying. I can tell.”

  “No, you can’t.” I snicker.

  “Trust me. I’m a bloodhound when it comes to lies. And you, dear sister, should know better than to try and pull a fast one on me.” He playfully taps the tip of my nose with his knuckle.

  “Care to share?” our father interjects, butting into our conversation.

  “No.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  Rome and I respond at the same time, my brother’s reply colder than mine.

  “Is it?” He arches an inquisitive brow, placing his newspaper face down on the table.

  Shit.

  “As much as I hate to agree with your brother on anything, you have been off-kilter since I arrived.” He directs the accusation at me.