Ruthless (The Privileged of Pembroke High #4)

by Ivy Fox

  His black eyes turn into a dark abyss.

  “Is that why you’re pissed? Because I’m going to hurt Princess’s feelings or some shit? Is she so important to you?” he growls.

  “You know she is. I told you as much.”

  “Yeah, I fucking remember, Chad. I fucking remember!” He shoves my chest, trying to gain some room to leave, but I hold onto his shoulders, making sure he doesn’t move an inch.

  “Let me go!” he seethes, rolling his barbell piercing over his front teeth.

  “No. Not until you tell me why you’re acting like this.”

  “You know why.”

  “Because I told you I love you?!”

  “No, asshole! It’s because you told me you love her!”

  He grabs me by the nape, pressing our temples together, our hard breathing fanning over our skin.

  “Fuck, Boy Scout. Just let me deal with this shit the way I know how.”

  “You mean by letting you fuck every girl in this school?” I reply, the hurt in my voice evident to us both.

  “If that’s what it takes to get you out of my system, then let me do it.”

  My fingers grab onto his tie, inching closer to him.

  “It fucking hurts watching you give away what’s mine,” I confess as my soul bleeds before him.

  “But that’s just it, Boy Scout. I’m not yours. You haven’t made me yours. And I don’t think you ever will,” he rebukes, broken, slamming his fist on my chest.

  I shake my head in denial, hot tears prickling the corner of my eyes.

  “I told you I didn’t want to lose you.”

  “And you won’t. You’re still my best friend. Nothing will ever change that. But I need you to let me do my own thing. Maybe that way you will finally make up your mind and decide who you want most. Her or me. You can’t have us both.”

  “I know,” I mumble defeatedly with my heart torn in two.

  “Hey,” he whispers, caressing my cheek with the back of his knuckles. I look up at him, his gaze just as tormented as mine. “Whatever happens, you’ll never lose me.”

  My heart squeezes in my chest, unable to believe him.

  “Fuck it,” he growls before crashing his lips on mine.

  His kiss is filled with the same desperation I feel inside. His hold on the nape of my neck tightens as his tongue battles my own. Our kiss is dark and needy, and half of me wants to give in and just claim him as mine, once and for all. But the other part—the one that longs for Elle—is tortured with guilt for betraying her like this.

  He stops our kiss far too soon for my liking, his dark eyes embedded in sorrow.

  “Why did that kiss feel like goodbye?”

  “Not goodbye. Just a promise that I’ll be waiting when you choose me instead of her.”

  “A promise?”

  “Yeah, a promise. That night you asked me if I had ever been in love, and I didn’t give you an answer. Well, here it is. I’m fucking in love with you, Boy Scout. I have been for years now. So, if I need to wait a little longer for you to figure your shit out, then I will. Just don’t bust my balls how I go about it in the meantime. There’s only so much pain that I can stand.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I know you don’t.” He smiles meekly. “You don’t want to hurt anyone. That’s the problem. You’re going to have to break one of our hearts sooner or later. You won’t be able to postpone the inevitable forever. But if you need time to come to grips with that in your mind, then I’ll give it to you. I just can’t stand on the sidelines twiddling my thumbs until that happens. It fucking hurts too much as it is.”

  He places another soft kiss on my lips before pushing me away and leaving me alone.

  Cold and bereft without his love, wondering if I’ll ever have it again.

  Chapter 25

  Elle

  I lean against my locker as I take in the familiar scene before me. Saint is whispering sweet nothings into some giggling senior’s ear, her eyes sparkling at whatever lame pickup line he’s using on her. He twirls a lock of her hair around his fingers, knowing full well that she’s melting away with every word he utters. She runs one hand lightly up and down his impressive tattooed forearm, a silent promise that he can do whatever he wants with her.

  Barf.

  At least Chad isn’t here to see Saint in action this time. Not that he has said a word to me about why he and Saint are no longer as close as they used to be. He won’t admit it to me, but I know something happened between them—a rift that changed the dynamic in their relationship.

  It was subtle.

  If you weren’t paying close attention to them, then you would have missed it. Unfortunately for me, I’m always paying attention. They still act like they are best friends. We still hang out and have lunch every day together, and I know Saint still goes to his weekly meetings with Chad’s mom. On the surface, everything is exactly the same.

  But it’s not.

  One of them has pulled away.

  I just don’t know who.

  My heart wants to believe that it was Chad who decided not to blur the lines between them, but my gut instinct tells me differently. Every time he doesn’t think I’m looking, I see how sad he is. Especially when he catches little glimpses of Saint working his magic on every girl that passes him by. I’m just thankful he’s not here to watch Saint’s new conquest now.

  I guess I should be grateful that Santiago has backed off, but I’m not.

  In fact, I’m more pissed off at the jerk than I’ve ever been. To say I’m a little relieved that our sophomore year is finally coming to an end and that I will have the whole summer where I don’t have to watch Santiago seduce the whole female student body at this school is an understatement.

  Another giggle leaves her pouty lips.

  A gentle caress to her cheek.

  One more feather-like touch to his biceps.

  Argh.

  Thank God I skipped breakfast this morning. Having a front-row seat to Saint’s playboy ways is enough to make anyone want to puke their guts out.

  I’m about to tell the douchebag to get a room when someone startles me by slamming their body against the locker beside me, pulling my attention away from Saint and the irksome giggling senior. When I see it’s Trevor who decided to pay me a visit, I roll my eyes in distaste.

  Great.

  Another douche canoe.

  Will there ever be a day where I can come to school and not have to deal with assholes?

  “What do you want, Trevor?” I ask, opening my locker to take out my textbooks and block his face from my sight.

  “Just wanted to wish you a good summer.”

  “Sure you did,” I mumble sarcastically.

  “I’m serious. Manhattan will be awfully dull without you around.”

  I slam the door to stare him in the eye and pull an Asher on him.

  “What the fuck are you talking about, Trevor? We hate each other. I’d think you’d be happy that I’m leaving for the Hamptons this weekend.”

  He lets out a chuckle and then takes two steps toward me, invading my personal space.

  “Don’t be like that, Grayson. I thought maybe next year we could put the past in the past and start fresh.”

  “Again, and pardon my French, the fuck are you talking about?!”

  But instead of explaining himself, the big jerk just crowds me further, making it so that I have no choice but to lean back against my locker to gain some space. When he tries to caress my cheek, I just slap his hand as hard as I can before he has the chance to touch me.

  He doesn’t like that.

  He doesn’t like that at all.

  Trevor’s previously relaxed disposition morphs into one I recognize all too well. He points a menacing finger in my face, and it takes all my restraint not to break it.

  “Be nice. I’ve been nice to you these past two years, haven’t I? The least you could do is be
nice to me.”

  Nice?

  Is he high?

  “Trevor, whatever meds your shrink has got you on, tell him they aren’t working. You have never been nice to me, or anyone else for that matter, in your poor excuse of a pathetic life. You don’t even know the definition of nice.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” he mutters to himself, his eyes falling to my breasts. I swallow dryly, hiding the sudden fear and repulsion that chills my bones with this one gaze. “I think I could be really nice to you if you let me.”

  “That will never happen.”

  The sinister snarl he lets out is just as spine-chilling as his unwanted attention.

  “Always the stuck-up Grayson bitch, thinking she’s better than everyone else. But mark my words, Elle. One day you’ll wish you had been good to me.”

  “Again, that will NEVER happen,” I growl with bared teeth.

  He stares into my eyes, the vile hunger in his making a cold sweat run down my back.

  “Move,” a familiar dark voice calls out from behind Trevor’s back.

  Trevor’s jaw ticks, his nostrils flaring as he tilts to the side to confront the looming form behind him. Saint’s black eyes look void of life as he stares Trevor down.

  “Are you deaf as well as dumb, jackass? I said fucking move away from her.”

  Trevor raises his hands up as he takes three steps back, finally giving me enough room to breathe. Saint keeps rooted to his spot as Trevor’s gaze bounces from me to him.

  “My bad. I thought she was no longer off-limits since you’ve been banging every other skirt in this place.”

  “She’ll always be off-limits to you,” Saint warns.

  “Are you sure about that?” Trevor taunts smugly. “Because as I see it, you’re not meeting her needs, and her blond sidekick is too much of a pussy to satisfy them either.”

  Saint rolls his pierced tongue over his front teeth, his fists clenching at his sides.

  “But that’s okay. I can wait. I’ll have her eventually,” he has the audacity to say, throwing me a lingering look. He then bridges the small gap between him and Saint to whisper in his ear. “And when I do, I’m not going to take a page from you and just get pictures of her on her knees. Elle riding my cock, begging me to pop that cherry is surely film worthy, don’t you think?”

  My jaw falls to the ground at the lunacy that Trevor just spoke, but I don’t have time to offer him the comeback he deserves. All because the next time I look at him, he’s already on the floor bleeding from his nose after the headbutt Saint just laid on him.

  “I’ll fucking kill you!” Trevor yells as a crowd begins to circle around the three of us to watch the fight go down.

  “See, that’s where you and I are different. You’re all talk and no bite. I follow through on my threats.”

  Trevor quickly gets back on his feet, wiping his bloody nose on his sleeve.

  “You’ll pay for this. Both of you will!”

  Saint starts rushing at him again, ready to swing at him, but I hold onto his arm to stop him. Confused, he looks down at me at his side as I pull him closer.

  “He’s not worth your scholarship,” I whisper to him low enough for only Saint to hear.

  I, on the other hand, have nothing to lose.

  Pushing Saint behind me, I go to face Trevor on my own.

  “You know, for a southern boy, you sure lack manners and an education in how to treat women. Let’s see if I can help you recall your etiquette lessons.”

  And before he has time to understand what I’m about to do, I knee him in the balls with all my might, making him drop like a sack of potatoes to the floor, hugging his precious, smashed family jewels. Between the commotion of his wails and everyone laughing and pointing at the scumbag on the floor, I grab hold of Saint’s hand and pull him away before he does something stupid.

  I’m sure Principal Green will find out about this altercation anyway, but no one actually saw Saint hit Trevor. All they saw was the douche already on the floor bleeding, so it will be his word against ours. And since a whole bunch of kids saw me hit Trevor in the junk, it won’t be a hard sell that I was the only one who hit him first.

  The only downside I see is that when word gets out that Judge Grayson’s perfect daughter got in a fight with the heir of Manning Pharmaceuticals, I’m sure the media will have a field day. My father, however, won’t be as ecstatic with the bad publicity. I’ll end up paying for this. I just know it, and all because Saint couldn’t keep his goddamn cool.

  Once we reach the quad outside, I realize I’m still holding his hand and immediately snatch mine away from his. Saint, of course, begins to laugh at my knee-jerk reaction.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing. Just happy to see you took my advice to heart. I didn’t think you were paying attention that day.”

  The memory of the afternoon where Saint had come to my rescue on the school playground where Trevor was holding my ballerina slippers hostage comes flying back to me. He told me that the next time Trevor got in my face, I should just shut up and hit him in the junk. I didn’t like Saint playing the white knight then, and I sure as hell don’t like it now. Especially because he could have put his whole future on the line over one idiotic punch.

  Pembroke High’s school board has been salivating at the mouth for an excuse to kick Saint out since he went up against the football and lacrosse teams last term, totaling their cars. He should know better than to give the school any reason to expel him. And headbutting Trevor Manning is definitely up there on the list of perfect reasons why Saint isn’t Pembroke material.

  “I knew you were a hothead, but I didn’t think you were stupid.”

  I shove him in the chest, angry that he let a weasel like Trevor get to him.

  “Spare me the lecture, Princess. It was your fucking honor I was protecting.”

  “Next time you want to go all alpha, do it for some other girl. I don’t need you.”

  “Obviously,” he mumbles under his breath. “No one does.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Forget it, Princess. I got shit to do.”

  “I bet you do,” I sneer, crossing my arms over my chest, unimpressed that he’s already thinking about his next hookup.

  “Is that jealousy I hear?” he taunts, taking one step closer to me.

  “Ha!” I laugh sarcastically. “You wish.”

  “That wasn’t a no.”

  “Please. You’d be the last man who could ever make me jealous.”

  “Liar.” He brightly smiles as he tugs on my ponytail.

  My brows crease in the middle of my forehead at how genuine Saint’s smile is. It’s not that rehearsed one he was giving the girl in the hall. Or any of his conquests for that matter. This one is real and all his. Even his jet-black eyes don’t look empty when he looks at me. There is a spark of life within them, bursting to get out. My heart leaps to my throat as he continues to play with the ends of my hair, that tug of his smile making me foolishly melt just like the girl I was mocking not ten minutes ago.

  When the school bell rings, I jump in relief and slap his hand away.

  “See what you’ve done? You’ve made me late for class,” I scold, trying hard to school my features, even if I’m having a hard time keeping my thumping heart in check.

  “Today is the last day anyway. Just ditch,” he coos, running his thumb against my cheek.

  “Oh yeah? And what would I do instead?”

  “I think I can come up with something.” He looms over me, stealing all the oxygen from my lungs.

  My gaze trails over him, unable to stop myself from listing all the ways Saint has changed over the years. He’s no longer the scrawny foul-mouth boy I met in Central Park. Back then, all he had on him was height and attitude. Now, with his broad build and lean muscles from being on the swim team, paired with the elaborate tattoos and piercings all over his body, he’s the ep
itome of the guy you can’t bring home to meet the parents. He’s the guy you let corrupt you in every way imaginable. The one you fantasize about late at night when you’re restless and need a release. The name you call out in the dark when you fall over the precipice.

  His piercing charcoal gaze falls to my mouth as he runs his thumb over my bottom lip.

  “There you are.”

  When we both hear Chad’s voice call out from behind me, we simultaneously step away from each other, our connection cut straight through with just his voice.

  “Everything okay?” Chad asks, putting his arm around my shoulder when he reaches us.

  I don’t miss the hint of both hurt and fury in Saint’s gaze, just as much as I don’t miss the sinking feeling of guilt in the pit of my stomach.

  “Everything is fine, Boy Scout.”

  Chad looks at me, and I offer him my brightest smile, confirming Saint’s remark even though on the inside I feel burdened with shame that I’ve done something wrong.

  “We’re late for English, Elle,” Chad retorts abnormally cold, pulling me away from his other best friend.

  “Have fun,” Saint says before turning his back on us and going to God knows where.

  Both Chad and I walk in silence back into the school hall in the direction of class without uttering a word to one another. The air around us is stifling, only adding to my apprehension, but I’m too much of a coward to ask him what’s wrong.

  “I can’t believe you’re leaving me this weekend,” he says, at last, lifting the boulder off my shoulders when his voice sounds like the usually upbeat Chad I know and adore.

  “I’m not leaving you. I’m just going to the Hamptons like I always do for summer break. You can come with me if you want.”

  “As much as I would love that, you know I can’t. I’ll be in Haiti for most of the time working for Habitat for Humanity.”

  I nestle my head on his shoulder as I take in the contrasts between him and the boy we just left. While Chad is determined to fix every wrong in the world, Saint is fine just living with its chaotic mess.