Don’t be such a fucking wet blanket, Ocean. Pick up your balls and march your firm ass downstairs for something to eat. Besides, what are the chances of running into him in a place like this? There must be over one hundred rooms in this mansion, not including the pool house, steam rooms, or stables that are no doubt somewhere on this property.
My eyes continue scanning as I make my way downstairs and when I finally come into the kitchen, I feel like I can breathe again. No sign of him. I’m safe. But now the bigger challenge is finding my way around this kitchen.
I start opening cabinets and pulling open drawers until I find everything I need to make a sandwich. It takes way longer than it should, but the bread is fresh and that’s a positive in my book.
I get busy, feeling like a fraud in this big place.
I so don’t belong here. It’s comical just how vastly opposite this world is to mine.
I busy myself making a sandwich, trying—and failing—to lose my thoughts in the task. That is until a voice calls out at the opposite end of the kitchen counter.
“Well, well, well. Who’s this you’ve been hiding?
My head whips around to find a man-boy staring at me from the other end of the kitchen. His eyes are dark, and traveling up and down my body as though I’m some kind of meal. It’s not like the way Colton had looked at me earlier, this is different … darker, and I don’t like it. What I don’t like more is the douche canoe standing behind his shoulder smirking at me like he’s about ready to start playing his twisted little games.
The kitchen is so big that the two of them are far enough away for me not to feel uncomfortable, but if the fucker with the dark eyes even thinks about taking a step toward me, I'll be reaching for the knife I'd planned on using to cut my sandwich.
Colton laughs, his smirk making it come out like a scoff. “She’s no one,” he grumbles. “The help.”
That word makes it sound like an insult and it instantly has me wanting to high-five the fucker in the face with my fist. He knows damn well that I'm not the help.
Colton’s friend replies, his lips pulling up into a grin as his tongue pokes out and runs along his bottom lip. “The help is hot,” he says hungrily.
“Who’s fucking hot?” A chirpy voice comes from somewhere that is not here. My eyes flick around, wanting to know exactly where this third guy is and if he’s going to be a threat to me. The guy appears a second later, striding excitedly out of the media room. His eyes come to mine and while they also travel up and down my body, he does it in a much less creepy way. This guy, he’s just picturing me naked while the other was imagining all the ways he could fuck me.
“My, oh my, the help really is hot,” the guy says, walking right up to me and taking my hand. He gives it a gentle kiss before letting it drop to my side. I’m about to prepare for an ass-kicking when Colton lets out a soft groan and I decide that this guy can kiss my hand as much as he wants if it’s going to annoy his friend. He gives me a wide grin before respectfully taking a step back. He throws back over his shoulder. “Where have you been hiding this one?”
Colton rolls his eyes. “I haven’t been hiding her anywhere,” he says as though the suggestion is offensive to him. “She's new. The bitch is free game for all I care.”
The creepy friend's eyes seem to light up as the new guy whips his head back to me, smiling brightly and showing off some of the brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. For a moment, it’s startling. Where I'm from, we don’t see many blonde-haired, blue-eyed kids. We’re all dark; hair, eyes, and personalities.
“I’m Charlie Bryant,” he introduces politely, throwing me off as polite was anything but what I was expecting. He looks back at his friends. “Obviously you’ve met Colton, and the dickhead watching you like a predator is Jude Carter.”
Jude. Huh, rhymes with rude. I can remember that.
Charlie continues. “Spencer is getting around here somewhere but he disappeared half an hour ago. My theory is that he’s fucking one of Carrington’s maids.”
“Right …”
“You busy? Want to chill?”
Colton’s booming demand comes flowing from behind Charlie. “No. We don’t fraternize with the help.”
I pick up my sandwich from the table, leaving all my mess behind as I stride toward Colton, keeping my eyes locked on his hazel ones. “Which is it, dickhead? I’m either free game or the help that can’t be fraternized with. I mean, if you’re going to attempt to insult me, at least get your insults straight.”
Charlie laughs behind me. “Oh, damn. Colt. She’s got you there.”
His eyes heat like molten lava, glaring heavily but Jude straightens beside him, dangerously staring down at me as though he’s ready to tear me in half. “Do you have any fucking idea who you’re talking to, trash? That’s Colton fucking Carrington. You’ll learn some fucking respect.”
I step in closer, proving that I'm not scared of their bullshit despite how my heart is thumping wildly within my chest. “He’ll get my respect when he does something to deserve it. Right now, he’s just the same trash that you three dickheads see me as.”
Jude’s jaw clenches and he goes to step into me but Colton slaps his hand up against his chest, holding him back and Charlie’s laughter seems to grow. “Holy fuck, dude. Someone needs to take a chill pill.”
Smirking up at the dickheads, I bat my lashes. “And it'd be even nicer if someone choked on it.”
They stare at me as though they can hardly believe what they’re seeing and I take the opportunity to step around them. I casually start making my way toward the living area as though that confrontation hadn’t just rattled me to my core.
I’m going to pay for that. Colton is not going to roll over and accept that I just disrespected him in front of his friends. Hell, I also disrespected his friend too. Not Charlie though. He seems cool but I won’t make up my mind about him yet. After all, he was probably just looking for a quick fuck.
There’s no denying it, Charlie Bryant called me the help and as long as that continues, he’ll be considered the enemy, just like them.
Chapter 5
My alarm screeches through my new bedroom and I peel my eyes open to remember it’s Monday morning.
School.
Fuck. I was hoping the night would swallow me whole and I'll wake up again on Friday afternoon. There’s nothing worse than being the new kid at school. I’ve never stepped foot into a private school but I’m assuming they’re all the same. Bitchy girls and jock dudes who think they're God’s gift to earth. Add the bucket loads of cash they all come equipped with, and I can guarantee that today is going to be one of the worst days of my life.
Being the new girl at school is going to be like having an automatic target on my back. The fact I don't come from money or that Colton will no doubt be calling me 'the help' is sure to be an absolute mess.
Yay for bullying, right? Wrong.
To be completely honest, I don’t know how much of it I’ll be able to handle. At my old school, I was feared by the other students. They all knew the company I kept and they respected me. They knew I was more than capable of fucking them up if my boys didn’t. They were either kind or stayed the fuck out of my way. These private school privileged dickwads are different, they’re going to judge me by what they see. None of them know me, and just as Colton had pointed out, I’m free game.
It’s going to be a disaster.
I haven’t even stepped through the gates and I’m already certain that there won’t be anyone like me, not even close. No one in the whole town is going to understand what it feels like to lose your house, or how humiliating it is having to beg strangers for food just so you and your mother could eat that night. They won’t know the feeling of having cold showers in the dark because the gas and electricity had been turned off.
Hell, the parents of the kids at this school are probably the same bankers and CEOs who took it all away from us. They don’t care about the little people. They care about lining their
pockets, and it doesn’t matter who they have to squish to make it happen.
I wonder if this school will break me. I’ve never had to endure the pain of bullying before but from what I’ve seen, it can be brutal. I’d like to think that I'm strong enough to laugh as other people’s bullshit sails off me like water off a duck’s back, but when it’s constant and comes from people who are higher up in this world, I'm sure it’s going to get me right where it hurts.
I’m not looking forward to this.
I finally silence my alarm and pull the blankets up over my head. I wonder what kind of trouble I’ll get in for missing the start of school. Would it be shrugged off like it was at my old school? Am I looking at getting detention, or is this the serious kind of bullshit that goes down in movies? Though one thing is for sure, Charles Carrington won’t be happy.
We all sat around the dinner table last night and shared a meal together. It was awkward as fuck. Colton sat, ate his dinner in three seconds flat, and then left. So with him gone, it wasn’t as bad, but it was still weird. I wonder if Charles ever invites his other staff to eat with him or if we’re special because we’re going to be living here. I hope he doesn’t think this is going to be one of those big happy family situations, because if so, I’m out. I didn't sign up for that bullshit.
The pool house can’t come soon enough.
The sound of someone barging through my door assaults my ears, and if I wasn't certain that it was mom I probably would have flown out of my bed and demanded some privacy.
I groan and murmur under my breath. “In three … two … one.”
The blanket is torn from my body and thrown across the room, leaving me shivering on the bed. “Up and at it,” mom says in a singsong tone. “Time to get ready for school. I thought you’d be up and ready by now.”
“Just ten more minutes,” I plead, wondering why I even bother.
“Nope. Up. You heard Charles at dinner last night. This is important for him. The dean at Bellevue Springs Academy owed him a favor and he had to pull strings to make it happen. You’re not going to embarrass me and disrespect the effort he went to. Now get up. I want to see you in your uniform. Maryne had it pressed for you last night.”
I fly up out of bed and stare at mom who happens to be wearing her own uniform. “Uniform?” I demand. “You didn’t say anything about a uniform. I’ve never worn a uniform.”
“It’s a private school, Ocean. What were you expecting?”
I gape at her and watch as she makes her way across my room and opens the walk-in closet. She returns a moment later with a white blouse that dons the BSA crest on the breast pocket and a grey pleated skirt that looks like it needs to be hemmed.
I let out a heavy sigh. It could be worse. Much, much worse.
“Fine,” I groan, trudging across the room and taking the hanger out of her hand. I hook it over the bathroom door before taking note of mom’s blue uniform and apron. She looks like a hotel maid and from the look on her face, she’s not thrilled about it.
“How’s it going?” I ask, remembering her mention that she was starting at six this morning. Considering it’s almost eight, I’d dare say she’s had enough of a test run to know if she’s going to like this position or not.
Mom shrugs. “It’ll do,” she says. “The other workers are nice ...”
“Except Harrison,” I cut in, recalling his scowl as he watched mom and I relax over dinner while he worked around us.
“Harrison is just one of those old guys you have to get used to. He's harmless.”
I roll my eyes and make my way over to my bag of clothes. I start rifling through, looking for some underwear and a bra that won’t show through the white blouse. “I think this is going to be a good thing,” mom continues. “It’s good pay and assuming you can keep out of trouble, there’s no drama.”
I give mom a blank stare.
“You’re right,” she says. “Trouble has a way of finding you.”
“What did you expect when you accepted a job in Bellevue Springs. It’s not exactly our scene. The two of us stick out like sore thumbs. You might as well have stuck a sign to my back saying that we don’t belong.”
“I know, honey. It’s going to be alright. Once they get over the fact that you’re the new shiny toy, it’ll all calm down.”
I raise a brow. “Promise?”
Mom’s lips press into a tight line and I roll my eyes. She never makes promises she can’t keep, even if it means letting me down.
“I better get back to work,” she tells me. “Promise me that you’ll be showered, dressed, and fed by 8:30. Harrison mentioned that the bus stops by here around then. You can’t miss that bus, got it?”
“Yeah, yeah,” I say, zipping up my suitcase. “I won’t be late.”
“Good. Now, come and give your mom a kiss. I would have liked to see you off for your first day but I’m not exactly in a position to be asking favors just yet.”
“It’s okay,” I say, falling into her arms. “I can manage. Besides, I don’t think having my mommy drop me off is going to help me fit in with the other kids.”
“Good point,” she laughs, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Now get a move on.”
The next half an hour flies by and before I know it, I’m racing down the stairs and desperately trying to make the stupid coffee machine work. I mean, how hard is it to do it the normal way? Why do rich people insist on having fancy machines for everything?
Giving up, I hurry into the staff quarters and let out a relieved sigh when I see the tea and coffee cart still in the same place I saw it yesterday morning. I hurry over to it while feeling Harrison’s disapproving glare on my back. I won’t even begin to try and understand why I’ve deserved his glare this morning. It could be several things; my running through the house, my wet blouse from where I accidentally dropped it on the bathroom floor, could even be the way I've rolled my skirt up so it’s not hanging around my knees. Really, it’s probably a bit of them all.
I get my coffee sorted while hearing his disapproving tone. “You’re going to miss your bus.”
“Would that really be the worst thing?” I shoot back.
Harrison doesn’t respond, he just keeps going about his morning pretending as though I don’t exist. I don’t know why it makes me feel as though I’ve won something, but it does and I love it.
I walk out with my coffee in hand and my head held high. If today is destined to be a shitty day then the least I can do is start it off with a good coffee.
I somehow make it to the front door and groan as I push my way through it. I forgot about the driveway. I’m definitely going to miss my bus.
I wonder how Charles would feel about me taking one of the many cars that no doubt line his garage. I know he’s been all sorts of hospitable, but my chances aren’t great. It’s a big jump going from letting me crash in one of his many spare bedrooms to allowing a seventeen-year-old with questionable morals drive one of his prized possessions.
I start walking.
It’s times like this I really miss having a car or a crew of boys who lived off being my hero.
I get about halfway down the drive when a loud rumble echoes through the silence. I can practically feel the ground vibrating beneath my feet.
I glance back over my shoulder to find a sleek, brand new Lamborghini Veneno Roadster in charcoal with orange trim and my world explodes. My panties disintegrate, my lady bits clench and gush, while my jaw hits the driveway in awe. It’s so fucking sexy.
That’s my freaking dream car and it’s currently gliding toward me. Maybe I’ve died and gone to heaven because there’s no way in hell that this car would be coming at me like this. It’s slow and torturous and I don’t even give a shit that it’s most likely Colton Carrington in the driver's seat.
I stare, and I stare good because I’m bound to fuck this thing up for me and mom sooner or later and I’ll be damned if I leave this place without taking in every single inch of this car. I wonder how quickly Co
lton will kill me if I lick it as he drives past?
The Veneno inches past me so close that I could probably jump on the hood and hitch a ride to school if I was stupid enough to pull a stunt like that.
I ball my hands into fists trying to control the urge to touch it. I’ll slip into the garage tonight and have a proper look while Colton isn’t around. Maybe I’ll even slip into the driver’s seat and rub one out just to add salt to the wound. Okay … maybe that’s taking the obsession just a little too far.
When the Lamborghini comes to a stop and the window drops down, my back straightens. I should have known the dickhead wouldn’t wait until school started to begin his torture.
His hazel eyes instantly meet mine and I thank all the heavens above that I’ve at least had a few sips of coffee to get me through this. Colton’s heavy gaze drops and I watch as he takes in my uniform with a sick smirk.
What’s his deal? He’s acting as though he’s never seen a chick in uniform. Hell, it’s the same fucking uniform that he’s wearing. Minus the skirt of course.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
My brows furrow and my eyes slice toward the front gates. “Um … what does it look like I’m doing? The bus is going to be here any minute.”
“Bus? What fucking bus?”
Is this guy daft? “The bus to school, dickhead. Harrison told my mom that it comes around this time every morning.”
Colton laughs, his lips pulling up in amusement. “Look around you, Jade. Do you really think this town uses public transport? Most of the kids I know would rather die than be seen on a fucking bus. Harrison was fucking with you. I haven’t seen a bus around here for … actually, never.”
“The fuck?” I screech, my jaw clenching as I picture Harrison back at the house peering through the window and watching me make a fool of myself.
“Shocker. You must have pissed him off.” I start walking again and groan as his car inches forward, keeping up with me. “Get in.”
Tough Sh*t: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Rejects Paradise Book 1) Page 5