Grabbing my phone out of my pocket, I unlock it and bring up our text message feed. It’s gone unanswered since I came to RPA, but I hope this time he gets back to me. I really need him to understand and get me out of this situation, because Lord knows, RPA won’t give a shit what Brett, Chaz, and Dorran do.
Ariyal: Dad, I need to talk to you. It’s important. This is a code wallflower.
Code wallflower has always been our go-to thing. Any time one of us uses it, we always know that shit has hit the fan and we need to do something quick. Hopefully, he doesn’t allow his new wife and their life to impede helping me. Because I need him; more than I’ve needed him before. More than I needed him when my mother died.
I wait, and wait, and wait. Several minutes fly by, and the more time that does, the more my heart sinks into my stomach. Even when something is important, he’s ignoring me. Even with everything that’s going on, he’s never outwardly cut me off before.
The tears from earlier brim my eyes and slowly fall. They slide hot and wet across my temple to fall onto the floor under my head. Choking sobs catch in my throat, and I slap a hand over my mouth to keep them from Brett overhearing. The last thing I need is him coming out of his room to investigate.
However, when I get to my lowest point—the point of no return—my phone brightens and dings an arrival of a text.
Xavier: Did something happen? Are you okay?
I cry out in relief, then tap away on the screen. He hasn’t answered me in months, but I should have known if it was important, he wouldn’t leave me hanging.
Every creak has me stopping to glance back over my shoulder, fearing that Brett is trying to sneak up on me. I can feel the hair on the back of my neck standing on end, and I can’t dispel the reason that is. It just feels like someone is watching me, and I don’t like that feeling at all.
With every letter I push it feels like there’s a weight settling on my shoulders. This big ball of dread that feels like it’s the weight of the world. Still, that doesn’t stop me from tapping. Doesn’t stop me from amassing a text to send to my father. He doesn’t need to know the details, just that things have changed.
I need to get out of here, and he’s the only person who can make that happen.
Ariyal: I want my own place; away from here. Please.
CHAPTER 16
Dorran
This is not good. As soon as Brett finds out, he will shit kittens.
No girl has ever driven Brett so close to the edge, and I doubt any would be able to ever again. Ariyal is pushing all of our buttons, and she has been ever since she got here. It’s not enough that she’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my life; it’s the fact she’s the most strong-willed, intelligent, mesmerizing woman I’ve ever met.
I can’t show her, though. I’m not permitted to display any of it; not until it’s time. I loathe the very thought of being a dick to her. That’s not who I am; not who my parents raised me to be. But it’s what I must become in order to satisfy those around me.
This image—the one I have to project—is because of this godforsaken school. I won’t allow anyone to know that, of course, because then there would be rumors. They would circulate, reaching far and wide, that the founding members of the I.V.Y family were too weak to pound it into my skull when I was younger. So, in turn, they’re too weak to run a company they built from the ground up.
I’m not saying it’s right, wrong, or just. All I’m saying is this is the world I live in; a world that’s built on the backs of hardworking people and lies. It’s corruption at its finest.
“Put that phone down, girl.” I stare at my phone screen, wondering what the hell she can be up to.
It’s not enough that each of us have to watch our backs, but we also had cameras set up in our rooms just in case someone broke in. All three of us have access to those cameras, and with as trashed as Brett was when he left the party—a party Patricia couldn’t take a hint when he brushed her off time and time again—I knew it was up to me to look in on how things were going.
Brett’s always been fast to anger. It’s been that way since we were younger. Before everything took off for our families and we settled into our lifestyle, he was the kid you didn’t fuck with. Now, he’s the man that everyone fears, but with a level of respect that most yearn for.
Not that he would do anything that had long-term effects, but he is single-minded when he gets an idea in his head of what he wants. That’s how we ended up where we are now. And the moment he knew little Ms. Nikohls was coming to our school, he became fixated. Almost scarily so.
There have been many times that Chaz or I have stopped him from going to her room. Many nights, we had to crash in Brett’s dorm and drag his mind away from the temptress that moved in down the hallway, just so he wouldn’t screw everything up.
Ariyal should get far away from us. Because we should not take the sins of the parent out against their daughter.
Except, it is. What her mother and father did all those years ago is still fresh in our mind, even if it wasn’t all her fault. It doesn’t matter if she’s long gone, cancer having forced her last, choppy breath. There’s still this burning passion inside us to make the Nikohls family pay for what they did. The only thing that took us off guard was the face we never counted on Ariyal being as gorgeous as she is.
No, that threw us for a loop. It took everything I had not to push off the wall that day and claim her right then and there, like it’s supposed to be. Her pouty, bee-stung lips—God, they’re pure perfection. So are her curves. A man could lose himself for days.
Thus, the whole ‘sleep with her’ endeavor began. It was more of a game at first, but then it grew into something more when she kept denying us. Denying what we were due. We’d never met another girl that kept spurning our advances the way she had, and that just made her more interesting. It also enraged us something fierce.
Particularly, Brett. Every time she pushed him to the side, he always came back, fuming that she wouldn’t put out.
So, yeah, I can’t exactly blame him for going all cave man on her. Fuck, I can’t blame him for anything he’s done since she showed up. She’s right here, in front of us. It’s been pure fucking Hell waiting.
However, the only thing, out of all this, that truly gets to me isn’t the fact she rejected us. It was the moment I took her down on the pavement outside, and it felt like she could see all the way to my soul. Her eyes peered into mine, destroying every wall and safe-guard I’d built over the years. I was naked, raw, and bleeding at her feet. That’s not a feeling I’m accustomed to.
With a groan, I push all thoughts out of my head and focus on Ariyal’s back. Or, more so, the dim illumination of the phone she’s texting on. She doesn’t take it out often, and if you are someone that doesn’t live in the same building as her, you’d never know she had one to begin with. She hardly has it, but when she does, it’s to message or try to call her father.
Now that’s a sick son of a bitch I’d like to get my hands on. How he could ever do that to his wi—I need to calm down. It’s over. It’s the past. Our future is Ariyal. Gritting my teeth, I force myself to watch as Ariyal taps away on her phone. It’s one of the rare moments she’s open and vulnerable. It’s a sight to behold.
Normally, she’s as closed off as a clam, allowing no one inside. The only person who’s been able to so far has been that girl Kamila. She’s one of Brett’s regulars. Well, she used to be. I still don’t know what she’s doing with Ariyal, but I know it can’t be good. That girl is nothing but trouble. Has been since the first day I saw her.
Which is the same day she took my cock into the back of her throat and sucked me dry. So, little Miss Precious isn’t so innocent. She’s a shit-stirrer. She’s what you call a ‘silent friend,’ but her actions are just as venomous as the rest of them. The reason I say this is because the DLG’s have nothing to do with a Carrington, unless they want something. Since she’s hanging out with Ariyal now, I’d say that’s a p
retty good incentive.
The incessant tick-tock from the wall clock gets to me, watching as she stares at her phone. It’s a rhythmic hum, never slowing and never speeding up. It’s soothing, melodic. It begs for me to give into the exhaustion plaguing my body. My eyes grow heavy, but with a groan, I toss myself onto my side and continue watching her. Hugging a pillow to my chest, I pretend it’s her, but at the … same time … I think of—.
***
A bright light beams in through the window, shining against the back of my eyelids. Then, a loud bang reverberates off the walls, startling me awake. Some funny half-cough/snort type of noise bursts from inside my chest as I push to a sitting position. Confusion is my friend as I glance around the room, wondering what the fuck is going on.
I peer sleepily beside me, seeing my phone and a pillow with a spot of drool on it. I run my fingers through my hair at the same time a yawn nearly causes my jaw to pop out of place. Another loud bang ensues. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I reluctantly get out of the bed, nearly tripping in the twisted-up sheets as I beeline toward my bedroom door.
I’m not the best when I wake up in the morning, preferring the cool of night as company. Nearly ripping my door off its hinges, I clamber out into the upstairs hallway and peer over the balcony. Seeing the top of a head flashing blue hair, I instantly calm. Chaz has always been a morning person, so Lord knows how we get along so well.
“What the fuck are you doing here, man?” My voice is rough with sleep, but instead of answering, Chaz turns to peer over his shoulder, smiling.
“We need to have a little chat.”
His tone leaves no room for argument, and the first thing I can think of is that he knows.
Swallowing past the lump growing in my throat, I make my way down the stairs. “Talk about what?”
His eyes narrow. “You know what.”
Actually, there could be many things he’s talking about, and it’s not like I’m going to implicate myself. So, whatever he wants to talk about, he will have to be the first to open up. I’m not going to willingly give him information. He may be my friend, but we’re both fighting over the same thing.
“Refresh my memory.” I yawn again.
“I’m talking about last night, man,” he forces out through a growl. “You let Brett get way too involved with Patricia, knowing how he feels about her; how his family feels about her.”
I snort. “He’s a grown fucking man. I’m not about to tell him he can’t fuck who he wants.”
“But you know the implication if his parents find out.”
That I do, but I still don’t care. Brett can do whatever he wants, and I’m not going to tell him, otherwise. It’s his fault if he ruins things with Ariyal; not mine. Ha. Who am I to say? He’s already ruined things. Too bad it’s not up to her.
Besides, that’s the whole reason she’s even here, isn’t it? I mean, Brett’s father has been in correspondence with Laura Charles since the marriage, and when it came up that she now has a stepchild—when everyone already knew—his father quietly let it slip about RPA. He made it sound like some holier than thou school, where only the elite of the elite attend.
It was all a fabricated lie. RPA is not that prestigious or well-sought after. It’s a cesspool of waste and disease, relying on their benefactors to hide occurrences that go ‘wrong’ on their campus. Trust me, there are plenty, but not because of them. RPA is located in what you call a ‘dark zone.’ And by dark zone, I mean nothing gets in or out without the wealthy benefactor’s say so. So, essentially, we could commit murder, and no one would even know.
Toss a little money here, influence there, and the deceased would mysteriously be reported as a runaway, and that would be the end. It’s too much responsibility having that kind of power, but it’s something all three of us have to live with. I also suspect that we’re nothing more than sheep being led to slaughter, but I’ll hold my verdict until I’m proven right.
And I will be. It’s only a matter of time.
I growl under my breath. “Why did they allow that little twit to come here, anyway?”
Chaz mean mugs me. “Because she’s supposed to be Brett’s fiancée, but we all know how that worked out.”
I smirk. Of course, I know how that worked out. Patricia follows wherever the money goes. She’s not in it for love, infatuation, or to live a life with someone she cares about. She’s in it for shopping trips, jewelry, trips, power, and anything she can get her hands on. Her family is scrambling to get her married off to one of us, and they don’t care which.
Brett’s father fell for the lines of garbage Patricia’s father spewed. All three of us know the only reason he wants her married off so bad is because they’re broke. But like the gentlemen we are, we have said nothing about it to anyone. We could, though. It would be so easy to watch her fall from her pedestal, chipping and cracking her five-hundred-dollar manicure on the way down.
“Patricia is nothing but a gold-digger. That’s all she’ll ever be. Besides, we have plans, or did you forget?”
“Hell no, I didn’t forget. How could I?” He smiles a leering, evil grin. “Which is exactly why last night will hurt more than it will help?” I guess, but still, it’s not my problem. Brett did that to himself, and I’m not about to take another for the team. That bitch wouldn’t know how to suck cock if I slapped her across the face with mine.
Instead of answering, I grunt as I reach for his coffee. He doesn’t say a word, only stands there with a smirk on his face, while I take a drink, then proceed to spit it all over him.
“Goddamn you and your black coffee.” A shiver of revulsion slices through me, quickly followed by a gag.
He looks down at his shirt in disgust, swiping at the remnants of his coffee. “You know that’s the only way I drink it. Not all of us can have the body of a God and still drink something that should put us into a sugar coma.”
He’s right, but still … black coffee? Disgusting.
Shivering again, I head into the kitchen to grab one of my iced coffee’s from the fridge. That’s the only way I’ll be able to stay focused. Caffeine is my drug of choice, and her and I have an understanding. If she keeps giving it up, I’ll give her a good time. Metaphorically, of course.
However, before I can even open the fridge, there’s commotion coming from the hallway. There are feet thumping the floor and a person nearly yelling in outrage. Jerking back, my eyes land on Chaz’s, and when we hear one of the heated voices, our eyes round to the point they almost pop out of our heads.
Oh, fuck, so that’s what she was doing last night. I allow a smile to break free. Brat is so screwed if she thinks she can get out of this.
CHAPTER 17
Everything hurts. Damn, it feels like they ran me over with a large truck. My ribs scream in pain as I turn over onto my back, trying my best to get comfortable. But nothing is helping, it’s only making it worse.
If I didn’t hate Brett so much, I would have taken him up on his offer last night. However, considering the circumstances of me being in his dorm to begin with, that’s a hard pass.
Shifting once more, I bite my bottom lip to keep from crying out. Everything from last night is fuzzy, except for how I came to be like this. My mind tries to compute the rest, but it’s not firing on all cylinders.
“You should have come to bed last night.” His voice. It’s like warm chocolate, smooth and delicious. But aren’t all things that are bad for you?
“I’d rather eat roadkill,” I murmur.
And I would to. I’d gobble that shit up before I ever choose to sleep with that guy. He’s the worst of the worst, and that includes the douche that cut me up all those years ago.
“Do you enjoy being treated like dirt?” he inquires, and I open my eyes, pinning him with a glare.
“This is not my choice,” I say. “You are the one that can’t get it through your head that I want nothing to do with you.”
“You will,” he growls, flashing a wolfish grin.
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He’s so fucking exhausting and arrogant. No matter how many times I tell him no, all he hears is yes. It’s the benefit of being raised how he was, getting everything he could ever want without being told no. Or, being told no, then getting it anyway.
“Fuck off,” I retort just as loud voices and stomping feet greet my ears.
I’d know that voice anywhere and instantly know why he’s here. God really does give blessings.
“You’re in so much trouble,” my voice takes on a different tune, almost whimsical, even to my ears.
He scoffs, ever the asshole. “How so?”
It takes all my strength to get off the floor. But when I do, I allow a mischievous smirk to tug at the corner of my lips. His brow furrows, clearly not figuring out the shit storm on the other side of his door is meant for him. But I do. Revenge is so goddamn sweet.
“Do you hear that?” I ask, licking my lips. “That’s the cavalry.”
His face turns into an emotionless mask, even when the knock sounds on the outside of his door. I don’t explain myself anymore, just allow him to close the distance in nothing but a low-slung pair of pajamas, to answer it. I know exactly what will be on the other side.
My father. And by the sound of things, he’s pissed.
The moment Brett opens the door, his eyes narrow with ugly, deep-seated hatred. It’s unlike how he first welcomed us to the school, and I find my smile dwindling. He’s face-to-face with my father and looks like he wants to kill him, rather than show fear of being caught keeping me here.
“I was nice the first time, Xavier. Do not see my nicety as a weakness,” Brett seethes, then does something I did not expect.
He. Opens. The. Door.
All the way.
Until my father can step inside, alone, seeing me cowering in the corner near the liquor cart.
His eyes flit between Brett and I, several times, before they settle on me. Without a word, he makes his way across the living room until I’m in his arms. It’s been forever since I’ve had my father’s arms wrapped around me. Without the fear of him dropping me so he can run to Laura. Hell, it’s been years since he’s held me like this, and it almost feels like he’s saying goodbye, even though I know that’s crazy.
Little Plaything: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Reighton Preparatory Academy Book 1) Page 11