by Goode, Ella
“Where are you going?” she yelps.
“To bury this guy.”
“No.” She leaps for my arm and tries to haul me away from the door.
“Why not?”
“Because then he knows where I am. I don’t want him to know. I just want to get away. Please,” she tacks on when she sees her reasoning isn’t breaking through.
I heave a frustrated sigh. “I can’t let it go.”
“Why not? You don’t even know me. Why do you care if some jerk exists out there? Are you going to wipe all of them out?”
“Only the ones that hurt you.”
She grows still at this. Her eyes narrow and she searches my face to see what I’m angling for. She’s never had anyone in her life do anything for her and my desire to protect her is confusing. Trust isn’t something I can build overnight. I realize that. The reason the team has summer training camp is so that new players adjust to the old ones and vice versa. We have practice for hours every day, we train together, we eat together, we are supposed to goof off together and all of that is designed to get us to trust each other, because if we can’t rely on the other person to run their route or make that block then we can’t function as a team. Right now, the waif doesn’t trust me with even her name. What I need is time.
“All right. No beating anyone up today.”
She visibly wilts in relief, her hand sliding off my arm. I miss the warmth, but grabbing her fingers and placing them back on my biceps isn’t going to win any prizes—not after I ripped her shirt. It’s hanging open again. I reach behind me and pull off my tank. “Here,” I say, thrusting it in her direction. “Your tits are showing.”
“Oh my God,” she wails in embarrassment. She grabs the tank and stomps off to the opposite side of the room, muttering under her breath what an asshole I am.
“That shirt looked horrible on you,” I lie. I enjoyed seeing her in my shirt. It was stupid to have ripped it but I can replace it. I wasn’t thinking straight.
She flips me off.
“Go into my room and pick out some clothes. We need to go shopping today.”
“For what?” she says, refusing to turn around.
“Clothes for school.”
This gets her attention. “What are you talking about?” she scowls over her shoulder.
“You’re three months from graduation. If you aren’t going back to your old school, you need to get into another one.”
“I can’t just show up at a new school and say howdy. There’s registration and shit.” She waves an irritated hand in my direction.
“Watch and learn.” I grab my phone and call up Brad. He’s FU High’s resident hacker. There isn’t any information about the school and how it works that he doesn’t know.
“Hey, Brad, need a favor.”
“Oh, Carter, my man. How is it going? I heard your pool is heated and you use it even in the winter. Would be rad to have a party there this weekend.”
I grimace. The price for this favor is going to be too fucking high. I nearly hang up when a flash of blue catches my eye. The waif has flopped down on the sofa. My tank hangs around her smaller frame. She drops her head into her heads and while she’s not crying, I imagine she feels close to it.
“I can safely say that I’ve never wanted to host a pool party more,” I tell Brad.
“I am so happy to hear that. Now, what do you need?”
The payment made, Brad is more than willing to do as I ask. Records will be transferred along with a new student profile created. As of Monday, the waif will be a student at FU High. I just need her name.
Chapter 10
Mallory
“I don’t think you can park here,” I say as Carter puts his fancy car into park in front of the mall.
“I’ll park anywhere I want.” I roll my eyes as he slides out of the car. Why do I find his confidence and arrogance attractive? There is something wrong with me. My door opens a second later and I see a man in a valet vest. Malls have valets? That’s new. At least to me that’s new. “Leave the car there,” Carter tells the guy as he slips him some money. “Don’t open my car door.” He issues more commands to the poor valet guy as I step out. The valet looks down at his hand, seeing the money, and doesn’t look put out by Carter’s rudeness. I’m not sure the man had much of a choice. It wasn’t taking much for me to see that Carter—or maybe it’s his family—has power. I’m guessing that comes from the money. It usually does go hand in hand.
I wonder if he issued the order about my door because he doesn't want someone touching his car or opening a door for me. I’m going to go with someone touching his car. He’s rather protective of the thing. It’s nice and pretty, I’ll give him that, but it’s still only a car. Carter walks around to my side and opens the door further for me. I step out and he closes the door behind me.
“Keep your eyes to yourself while you’re at it,” Carter growls as I begin walking. I turn around to say something sarcastic but when I do, I realize he’s not talking to me. He’s looking straight at the valet.
“Are you coming?” I put my hand on my hip and sigh in frustration. Carter’s mouth goes tight as he gives the valet one last look and begins to walk toward me. Actually doing what I tell him for once too. “About time. I thought you were going to stand there all day giving that poor guy detailed instructions on what you do and don’t want him to do with your precious car. Why do you even take it anywhere? You should keep it locked up in the garage so nothing will ever happen to it.” I say the words half joking but inside I almost wish Carter would do those exact things to me. Maybe not lock me up but keep me safe so that nothing will ever happen to me. So I don’t have to worry.
“You know I’m an asshole” is his response.
“Yeah. I’m getting that.”
His hand goes to my back as he uses the other to open the door to go inside the mall. “So why keep giving me shit about it?” His mouth turns up in a half smirk.
“I think you might need someone in your life to give you shit,” I counter. That smirk turns into a full smile. He shakes his head as he ushers me inside the mall. I don’t know what it is about our banter but it puts me at ease. I’m like a child pushing my boundaries with him but he keeps on letting me slide. I think he enjoys it as much as I do because he keeps on egging me on. Maybe I’m the first one to actually call him on his shit. I mean is that even possible? That people just allow him to do and say as he pleases? It sure looks that way.
We continue to walk through the mall side by side. We’re silent as we walk but he keeps his hand on the center of my back. Of course Carter had to take us to the high end mall on the rich side of town instead of the regular one. I don’t even recognize the names of half of the stores we pass. All I know is they look extra fancy. I begin to feel a little self-conscious about what I’m wearing. I push those thoughts aside and remember why we’re here in the first place. I am starting a new school. I’m not sure how but it’s happening. I have no doubt about that. I’m pretty sure it’s the same school parking lot where I first climbed into Carter’s car for my little nap. The place is super fancy. A word I find myself using a lot since I’ve met Carter.
“Here.” He points toward a store. I see a few people our age turn to look at us as we make our way to it. They stare at us dumbfounded and I wonder if they know Carter. He shoots them a look and they take off. Well, I guess he’s not Mr. Popular. I can’t blame them. His attitude is terrible about ninety-five percent of the time.
“Did you know those people?” I ask because I’m curious to see why they were in such a hurry. Hoping it wasn’t me that made them take off. They were all well dressed and looked like people Carter would be friends with. Did they take one look at me and already decide they don’t want to associate with me? I’m sure my regular department store clothes were the first clue that I don’t belong in their circle.
“I think they go to our school,” he says with a shrug. He thinks? I’m not sure I’m going to be making any ne
w friends at school if I’m hanging out with Carter. He gives looks that send people running. I wish I had that superpower. I wouldn’t use it like he does though. I generally like most people. I just want to be able to use it on jerk-offs like my mom’s boyfriend.
“Are you coming?” Carter says with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. When I look up I see a sour look on his face from me looking at the two guys that he’s just run off.
Now I’m starting to think he’s getting jealous. First with the valet and now with the two guys.
“For a guy who said last night you have no interest in sleeping with me you have a weird way of showing it.” He starts to open his mouth but I cut him off. “Ripping my clothes off. Snipping at men who look my way.”
He opens his mouth then closes it. “Come on.” Now it’s me motioning him into the store. “I’m going to need your wallet to afford anything from inside this store.” I walk ahead of him. I turn my head to look at him. “Or maybe I already have it,” I joke. I don’t, but I at least expect for him to reach to check. He doesn’t. He nearly shrugs.
“Good luck trying to make a dent in it. In fact, take it as a challenge. You seem to like those.”
“Challenge accepted.” I walk to the first rack of hanging clothes that I see. I begin to rummage through them, sliding each hanger along the metal rod until I find something I like. I lift the price tag up and my mouth drops open. I know I teased Carter about making a dent in his wallet but there is no way that I can allow myself to spend this type of money on clothing.
Carter takes it from my hand, handing it to a woman that came out of nowhere. “Get her a room. My girl, like always, has a point to prove.”
This time it’s me that’s left speechless. Did he just call me his girl?
Chapter 11
Carter
“Is that Carter Franklin?” I hear someone squeal.
“No way. Carter Franklin doesn’t shop. It’s too normal. He has people come to his house with trunks of clothes and he picks out what he wants from there.”
“Seriously?”
“That’s what I heard.”
I roll my head to one side and then the other. The cracking of my neck makes them shut up.
“Oh, Carter, it is you,” one of the girls says. She looks vaguely familiar. I might have seen her in a class or one of my teammates might have fucked her after a game. That happens. “It’s Bea Simpson.”
I stare up at the brunette and try to place her. All of the girls in my school look pretty much the same. Either they have stick-straight hair or fat curls, but it’s uniformly long and they almost all have a Starbucks cup glued to their hands. Not that the guys are much different with their sneaker gear, jeans, and untucked T-shirts.
“He doesn’t know,” says the second one, nudging her friend to the side. “Bea and I were in your stats class last semester.”
“Okay.” I’m not sure why they’re talking to me. Most people in school know better. I roll my neck again and wonder what’s taking Waif so long. I guess I shouldn’t call her that. She told me her real name—Mallory Simmons —and her date of birth—September—and her Social Security number, but she’s always going to be the lost girl I found in the back seat of my Maserati.
“Rumor is that you’re having a party this weekend.”
“Ahh, well…” If I lie will that mean no one comes? I didn’t promise Brad that I’d host a big party or that I’d publicize it.
“He is. You should come.”
My eyes flick immediately toward the dressing room, where Waif is standing in one of the new outfits she picked out. The shorts have sort of a ruffle around her waist and the top is cropped, showing off a stripe of skin. I like it. “We’ll take it,” I tell the clerk who’s hovering over my shoulder.
“There are two different colors.”
“Great.”
“There are a few other items in that collection. I also recommend these shoes.”
“Put those on the card, too.”
“Wait a second,” protests Waif.
The clerk pauses but I wave her off. She scurries away to ring up everything before Waif can change my mind.
With a scowl, Waif watches the clerk leave. “Don’t I get an opinion?”
“It depends if you have bad taste. People with bad taste don’t get to have opinions about clothes.”
“How is it that I have bad taste? Maybe you’re the one with bad taste,” she accuses. Her arms fly out and I take the opportunity to admire her sexy body, which is all soft, round curves, hips that I can dig my fingers into, and tits perky enough to balance a glass on. I can definitely envision sliding my cock in between those two globes. The blood starts pooling in my jeans so I force that image out of my head.
“Do you like this outfit?”
She makes a face, clearly not wanting to agree with me on anything. “Maybe.”
“Then maybe you have good taste.”
“Is this...your...cousin?” the brunette breaks in. I’ve forgotten her name already. In fact, I forgot that Waif and I weren’t alone in this joint.
“No,” I say.
“Yes,” Waif says at the same time.
My brows come together. “Yes?” Did she just say we were cousins to two of my classmates?
“I’m Mallory,” Waif announces before I can interject, strolling up to the girls with her hand out. “I just moved to town to stay with Uncle—” She shoots a demanding stare at me, silently ordering me to supply my dad’s name.
“Teddy,” I supply reluctantly, not sure of where Waif is going with this.
Her triumphant grin sends a cold shiver down my spine. It’s like she’s slowly realizing her power over me. That’s terrifying and yet, somehow very sexy. My dick twitches happily. In order not to embarrass myself, I switch my gaze to the floor and start counting the tiles.
“Right. Uncle Teddy. Anyway, my mom’s sick so I had to come and stay with Uncle Teddy and Deuce, but Deuce here says that my wardrobe sucked so here we are.” She sounds annoyed, as if I’m the problem.
“Deuce?” they echo.
“Wait,” says the brunette. I should really learn their names. “You call Carter a nickname? That’s not allowed.”
“And he’s shopping.”
Even with my head down, I can feel the three of them boring their eyes into my skull.
“He’s my cousin so he really can’t tell me what I can and cannot call him,” Waif declares. This isn’t going to end well. When I start pawing her in the middle of the hallway, shoving her skirt up and sucking on her neck during passing period, our classmates are really going to have questions.
“Wow. You really must be related because I can’t see Carter allowing anyone else to say stuff like that. He’s kind of...difficult.”
“You mean he’s an asshole,” Waif says. “I know, but don’t worry. I’m here to cut him down to size.”
“Right on.”
I hear the girls exchange high-fives. What a nightmare this is developing into.
“I’m Bea Simpson and this is Emma Williams. We’re both seniors.”
“Cool. You’re coming to the party on Friday, right?”
Again, I feel their eyes on me, waiting for me to deny that there is such a thing. I keep my head down because I do not want this party, but if I say this, I suspect that Waif will invite everyone in this damn mall just to spite me.
“Absolutely. You couldn’t keep us away,” answers Bea. “I feel like you’re going to be a good influence on Carter—wait, what did you call him?”
“Deuce.”
I stand up and intervene because I cannot have the entire school calling me by that asinine nickname. “It’s Carter so unless you have the same last name as me, you aren’t calling me anything else.”
“I don’t have the same last name as you,” counters Waif.
“Not yet you don’t,” I mutter.
Chapter 12
Mallory
I hit the snooze button for the umpteenth time and
snuggle up with my blanket. My nerves kept me up half of the night. It feels as though I only closed my eyes a few minutes ago and it’s morning already. Today is going to be my first day at FU high posing as Carter's cousin. As if I didn’t have enough to worry about, I lied and said I was related to him. I panicked a little when we ran into some of his classmates in the mall and now I have to go with it. I sigh and punch one of the twenty pillows that are scattered around me.
“Not sure what that pillow did to you,” I hear Carter’s deep voice say.
I flick my eyes up to him and almost gasp at how handsome he looks standing over me. “I was pretending it was your face.” I pull the blanket up higher to cover my mouth, which is now smiling. I probably look a mess and he’s as handsome as ever. Carter smirks and shakes his head at me.
“Someone woke up in a mood. You need to get moving. Thirty minutes until we’re out,” he informs me. Those last few words have me jolting up and heading toward the bathroom. Crap. I have to make myself look presentable for my first day in only thirty minutes. After my restless night, I’ll need a miracle to accomplish looking halfway decent. I have a feeling that all eyes are going to be on me.
First impressions are important. I’m not sure why I care what these people think of me but suddenly, I do. I want to fit in. Although Carter can be a dick, he’s giving me an opportunity that I’ll always be grateful for. I have a chance at a new beginning. Finishing high school will offer me more job opportunities if I’m able to say I have a high school diploma. Things don’t seem as grim as they did a few days ago.
I look around this vast bathroom and thank my lucky stars that I picked Carter’s car to take a nap in. I’m still not sure why he’s helping me out but I can’t worry about that right now. I am going to take his handout. Life has given me enough shitty ones that I’m not turning down a good one. I switch on one of the fancy fixtures and warm water starts to spray on me. I let the water wash away my worries for a few minutes before rinsing off as quickly as possible and stepping out. I dry myself with the towel that was hanging on the warming rack and get a move on finding something to wear. I step out of the bathroom trying to hurry and run smack into what I’m hoping is Carter.