"Don't make this harder than it needs to be. There's nothing here for me. If I stay, I'm going to end up pregnant to some sleazeball Black Widow whom you're just going to kill anyway. Nothing good could come from me staying here."
Nic releases my hand and curls his around the back of my neck, pulling me in and pressing his forehead to mine. "I know, but that doesn't mean that I like letting you go. It was supposed to be you and me."
"You ruined that, Nic."
"Believe me, I know."
I let out a heavy sigh and drop my face into the crook of his neck as his arms curl tightly around me. I only have a second before I break, and I can't have him see me cry. I want to be stronger than that.
Why does this feel like the end of something incredible? This hurts more than when he cheated. It's like I'm closing the book on a story that wasn’t finished being written, a story that hardly got a chance to shine.
My tears begin soaking into his shirt as I slip my arms up around his neck. "You'll come and visit, right?"
His fingers trail over the floral tattoo on my shoulder and my heart twists, clenching until it's almost impossible to breathe. Why did I have to get that tattoo? “Just try and keep me away, Ocean. Nothing could keep me from you."
“You know I love you, right? If things were different …”
“I know,” he says, pulling me back so he can see my face. His thumbs rub under my eyes, wiping away the tears. “I love you too, O. You’re always going to be my girl, but you need to quit this crying. You know your tears have a way of bringing out the worst in me.”
My bottom lip pouts out and I feel like such an idiot for getting so worked up. “Please don’t beat up any of my boys.”
He presses his lips into a tight line and gently shakes his head. “I can’t make any promises.”
I roll my eyes knowing he’s only teasing, though I should be worried for Sebastian after those comments he made earlier. On second thought, maybe he isn’t kidding. It’s an emotional night for us all and these guys usually talk with their fists. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone ended up in the emergency room.
I let out a heavy sigh and let him pull me back in. “Just no broken bones, okay?”
“Okay,” he promises. “That I can do.”
Chapter 2
What kind of rich, privileged bullshit fuckery is this?
The big iron gates slide open to reveal the most luxurious mansion in Bellevue Springs. I’ve never seen anything like it. Not even the mansions that surround us are as ostentatious or douchey as this, yet I can’t stop staring at it. It’s simply magnificent.
It looks like a modern version of a Victorian manor home with beautiful white pillars evenly placed across the wide span of the mansion. It’s absolutely stunning, something out of a fairy tale, and those stairs … holy hell. There are three levels of stairs just to reach the front door.
Where the hell are we? This place is ridiculous. My home back in Breakers Flats wouldn’t even fit the front gate inside of it. Not that we exactly have a home anymore. Those fuckers at the bank made sure of that. There's nothing quite like watching your home and everything you've built being taken away.
This place is ginormous. We don’t belong here.
“We’re definitely not in Kansas anymore,” mom mutters under her breath.
I shake my head, agreeing with her completely. We've been here a whole thirty seconds and haven't even heard a gunshot yet. I can just imagine the security team sitting on the other end of these cameras, turning up their noses at what they see before them.
This isn’t going to go well, but unfortunately for us, this is the only hope we’ve got. We’ve already lost our home, our car, and our dignity. What more do we have to lose? If we were to stay, we would’ve been on the streets, begging for food. Nic never would have allowed that to happen. He would have taken us in, but mom’s pride would have held us back, not to mention, her fear of putting us one step closer to his father’s gang. The last thing she wants is to see her little girl get mixed up with that. If only she knew just how close I really was.
When this opportunity landed on our doorstep, we had no choice but to scoop it up with both hands, hoping it didn’t slip through our fingers. The eviction notice from the bank was already on the fridge and quickly creeping up to its 28-day deadline. We only had a few days left.
“Are you sure about this?” I question as mom and I step over the boundary line to the massive Carrington estate. This shit needs its own area code.
“Of course I’m not,” she says, looking as though she’s ready to break into tears. “But it’s either this or working for those Black Widow thugs, so I chose the lesser evil. You don’t belong in either of those worlds just as I don’t belong scrubbing rich guys’ toilets. Your father would be rolling in his grave if he was looking down on us right now.”
I let out a heavy sigh. She’s right. We don’t belong here or there, but sometimes you do what you have to do just to get by. The people here wouldn’t understand something like that. These are the kind of people who were born with silver spoons in their mouths and money overflowing their gold-trimmed pockets.
If I were the one who had to make the decision, I would have taken the gang option. At least that way I would have been close to the boys and close to dad’s grave. Not to mention, someone needs to keep an eye on Sebastian. He's only one bad screw away from an STI.
My four boys. They’re the four loves of my life. Well really, Nic is … was, but the rest are all fighting for second place. Though if I'm completely honest, Sebastian might have that second place. He and I share a special, unbreakable bond. He's just as protective of me as I am of him, but not in that crazy, eye-rolling way that Nic is.
I miss them already and it was only a two-hour drive in an Uber. They were there to wave me off, hangovers and all. They’re my crew. They’re the only reason I was able to make it through the past few years. Being a teen in Breakers Flats isn’t easy. You either win or you lose, there’s no in-between. At least for me, I had my boys and they’ve always had my back.
Now, I have nothing.
I guess that’s not entirely true. I can always call them and I know they’ll drop everything and come running. They’re going to make four beautiful women really lucky one day.
Fuck. That thought sends a sharp pain sailing through my chest. The day that Nic finds the girl of his dreams is going to crush me. I won’t handle it well and if she even thinks about hurting him, I'm going to fuck that bitch up.
I put it to the back of my head as Mom and I make our way down the long-ass drive. I can't step into this place crying about my old life. I'd be the laughing stock.
I can’t stop gaping up at the mansion. Every step we take makes the place seem so much bigger. I can’t believe people really live in homes like this. Back where I’m from, the amount of money spent on a home like this could house hundreds of people, even thousands.
“Do you think these people have staff to wipe their asses?” I question under my breath, wishing we still had our car. Carrying all our luggage and precious possessions down this ridiculous drive is really starting to weigh me down. I keep myself in good shape, but seriously … there are some things a girl just isn’t capable of doing. I guess I should be thankful that the driveway isn’t an extra mile or two longer.
Mom grins before trying to smother it. She’s doing her best to keep her spirit high. “They do but they call them bidets and they squirt water up into your … you know,” she says, popping her hip to indicate her ass.
I gawk at her, my eyes bugging out of my head as I suck in a deep gasp. I stop walking just so I can stare at her. “Up into your asshole?”
Mom sputters out a laugh and tugs on my arm, pulling me along. “Shhhh,” she scolds, glancing around to make sure there’s no one out here listening in on our absurd conversation. “You can’t be saying stuff like that around here. These people aren’t going to understand your humor.”
I shake my head
, still reeling with the thought of this bidet thing. “That wasn’t humor. That was disgust.”
“I know,” she groans as we pass the massive abstract water fountain in the center of the circle drive, a water fountain that could possibly be bigger than the home mom and I were just kicked out of.
We reach the grand stairs that lead up to the front entryway and all conversation about how rich people wipe their asses comes to a stop. We both stare ahead. I can’t believe we’re about to walk into this place. People like mom and I could only dream about visiting a place like this, let alone living in one.
“It’s now or never,” I tell her when we’ve hovered around the bottom step for long enough.
Mom lets out a heavy sigh and nods her head. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
With that, we start making our way up the three flights of stairs and I find myself counting.
One, two, three … sixty-six.
Sixty-six fucking stairs just to reach the front door. Who the hell needs this shit in their life? Mom is practically in a hot sweat. I’m surprised there isn’t an escalator to get up here. My old school didn’t even have thirty stairs over the whole campus. It’s like a work out just getting this far. My ass is going to be hella toned if I have to walk this shit every day. I can only imagine what the inside of this place is like.
Every disastrous thought about the stupid stairs disappears as Mom reaches forward and presses the golden button for the doorbell.
This is it. My world is about to collide with another and I'm not sure that I’m ready.
I expect to have to wait at least a few minutes for the door to be answered but within a matter of seconds, there’s someone there, pulling the door wide open.
A man appears before us in an expensive-looking suit and nods his graying head in greeting. “Good morning,” he says in a flat tone before looking over us with distaste. “May I help you?”
Mom’s eyes flick to me and I watch from the corner of my eye as she raises her chin, not liking the way this man is looking down on her. Though, she should be used to it, just like I am. This is the way anyone superior to us has always looked our way. “Hello. My name is Maria Munroe. I am here for the live-in housekeeper position.”
Understanding flashes in his eyes. “Ah, you’re the new maid,” he says as his eyes flick toward me. “And this is?”
Mom’s brows furrow before quickly glancing my way again. “This is my daughter, Oceania Munroe. It was put in my contract that she would be staying here with me. Mr. Carrington assured me that it wouldn’t be a problem.”
The old man who I'm starting to assume must be the butler looks over me, his eyes scanning from top to bottom and I see the same assumptions that I get from every adult—trouble.
I grin, catching his eyes and confirming exactly what he already knows to be true. I’m going to be more trouble than his fancy-ass can handle and if these rich pricks insist on treating me and mom like trash, then I’ll show them just how much trouble I can be.
Fuck, I can’t wait. I’m just begging for one of them to try and start shit with me.
“Yes, of course,” the butler says, squaring his jaw and silently reminding me who’s the boss around here. I swallow back and bite my tongue. He’s not my boss but he’s going to be Mom’s and I can’t fuck this up for her, no matter how much we don’t belong. I can make trouble another way. “That’s no problem at all. Her enrollment at Bellevue Springs Academy was finalized just a few hours ago.”
Mom smiles as my eyes bug out of my head. A private school? What the fuck is that about? I’m not going to fit into a private school and I guarantee that mom can’t afford the fees that go along with that.
I study the side of her face and watch as she focuses extra hard on the butler, refusing to look my way. She knows what I'm thinking and I don’t doubt that she’s trying to avoid having this conversation in front of this douche canoe.
Sir Douche Canoe waits a moment, watching me in silence, waiting for me to reel in my dramatics before allowing us to step into the Carrington mansion. When he deems I’m acting respectfully enough, he nods politely to my mom before scowling at me. “Follow me.”
He turns on his heel and instantly begins stalking off, leaving us to scramble behind him. “Leave your belongings. I’ll have Carlos take them to your rooms.”
Mom and I look at each other in relief before quickly lining our bags up against the wall of the oversized foyer and hurrying to catch up.
“Um, Sir,” I say as I listen to the repetitive sound of mom’s cheap heels clicking against the expensive marble floors. “Your name?”
He doesn’t turn around, just keeps forging ahead through the huge mansion, hardly giving me a second to catch my bearings. I’ll have to explore later. “My name is Harrison Whitby. I am Mr. Carrington’s personal butler and head of staff. Any questions, inquiries, or comments go through me. Mr. Carrington is a very busy man.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You may call me Harrison, however in the presence of the Carrington family, I will be addressed as Mr. Whitby.”
Mom nods despite Harrison not looking her way. “Understood.”
Harrison leads us through the mansion and I quickly glance around, taking in the multiple huge staircases, the gold trim on the railings, and the stone statues. This place is fit for a king, but while it’s the most impressive thing I’ve ever seen, it’s also incredibly quiet. It’s kinda eerie actually.
We’re led down a long hallway and through a door at the end. As we step over the threshold, it’s suddenly a whole new place. There are people everywhere, a busy kitchen is in full force while people scramble around. Women in maid outfits are walking in and out of a huge laundry room while others are busily refilling a tea and coffee cart.
It’s only eight in the morning so I’m assuming they’re busily preparing for the Carringtons’ breakfast. Though, if this is the effort taken for breakfast, I’d hate to see how crazy it is in here for a dinner party. It has me wondering just how many Carringtons there are. This is a lot of fuss if it was just for one. I mean, what the hell is wrong with simple jam on toast?
Harrison finally stops in the center and I don’t miss the way the other staff’s eyes linger on me and mom. He turns back to us and gets started on mom’s introduction, leaving me to go along for the ride. “This is the staff quarters where the majority of the staff spend their time. Lunches and breaks are taken in here and never in the main part of the house. You were hired as a live-in house-keeper, so feel free to take your breaks in the pool house which is where you’ll be residing with your daughter.”
He starts walking again and we hastily follow along, desperately trying to keep up with his pace. “This is the main kitchen area where all meals are prepared. The Carringtons’ personal kitchen is not to be used under any circumstances. That is reserved solely for the family. The same goes for bathrooms, laundry, and dining areas.” Harrison looks toward me. “You will not be permitted access to the main house unless invited by the family. Your time is to be spent in the pool house or the staff quarters. However, if you are to be in here, you must not be a nuisance. Is that understood?”
“Understood,” I say with a sharp nod, feeling a slight twinge in my gut. I was kind of hoping to go exploring.
“Unfortunately, our previous live-in maid has fallen ill and is still clearing her things out of the pool house. It looks like she could be a few more days. However, Mr. Carrington has been kind enough to offer you both a room in the main house, provided you remain respectful to house rules. You will both be allowed access to the yard when you’re not on the clock. The tennis courts and pool are open for your personal use. However, you are not to invite guests over to the pool house unless they have been accepted and added to the approved list of house guests.” He focuses his stare on me but it comes off as more of a warning. “If they are not on the list, they are not welcome.”
I hold back a scoff. I have a feeling that rule is going to be broken. Many, man
y times. My boys won’t stand for that bullshit and I can guarantee, they sure as hell won’t be approved to be on any list.
Harrison focuses his full attention on mom before pointing out a lady in the kitchen who’s leaning over the counter with a massive schedule spread out before her. “This is Maryne. She is in charge of your schedule. If you need a day off or have any issues, you will discuss it with her.”
Upon hearing her name, Maryne looks up and gives us a welcoming smile and I instantly like her. She’s the first person in this place who hasn’t looked down on us and something tells me that she knows a little about what it’s like to grow up the way we have.
Maryne gets back to work as Harrison walks over to a door. “Alright, I will give you a brief tour of the estate, and then you’ll be handed over to Maryne who will set you up with your uniform.” He looks down at me. “She also has all the documents you’ll need for your schooling.”
I nod and follow him out of the staff quarters as he leads us right into the middle of the mansion.
I stop and stare, most likely mimicking the gobsmacked expression on Mom’s face. This place is insane. Hell, I don’t even know what area of the house I’m in. It could be a living area or it could just be one of those filler spaces rich people like to decorate. I don’t know but it’s fucking awesome and it’s clear as day that an award-wining interior designer was the one who made this happen. No normal person would be able to put a place like this together so flawlessly. I'm in awe.
I don’t get a chance to think about it further as Harrison begins leading us through the place that is going to become my home for the foreseeable future. Who knows how long I'll be here. If this guy is a douchebag, mom and I will be planning our escape as soon as we can. Not that we can afford that luxury.
We pass the second ballroom, and I’m listening to Harrison explain the grand parties that the Carringtons host when a familiar man comes walking out of one of the many living areas.
Charles Carrington. Billionaire businessman and CEO.
Tough Sh*t: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Rejects Paradise Book 1) Page 2