“I know, but it’ll be worth it to see his face.”
“Promise that I’ll get to be there when he finds out?”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way, wifey.”
I roll my eyes knowing that’s going to stick so I might as well go along with it. “Alright, hubby. I gotta pee,” I tell him, indicating down to my empty glass. “If the pretty girl with the magic fruity drinks comes past, can you get me another?”
“Sure thing.”
With that, I start scrambling. Why is it that the second you stand up after drinking you always feel like an absolute mess? The room is spinning a little and I swear, if I throw up on Cora’s dress I’m going to be the joke of the town, considering I’m not already occupying that position.
I find mom across the room and she smiles brightly. She’s been watching me all night with that proud momma bear look on her face. You know, after she nearly dragged my ass out of here assuming I’d snuck in and stolen a dress. She quickly realized that tonight might be the only time I’ll ever get to play Cinderella, and she left me alone. But I’m not fooled, she’s been keeping a sharp eye on me.
I somehow make it to the bathroom and find myself looking around in awe. Out of the millions of bathrooms in the Carrington mansion, this is one of the many I’ve never wandered into. It’s flawless, absolutely stunning. I never really understood why people put so much money and effort into making luxurious bathrooms. I mean, do they realize that people use them for taking a shit? I have to admit though, it’s kind of nice to have the heated toilet seat. Well, I'm hoping it’s a heated toilet seat and not warmed by someone else’s ass.
I hold back a gag as I finish my business and quickly wash my hands so I can get back to the party. I'm seriously having an incredible night. Milo has introduced me to a few of the girls from Bellevue Springs Private. Though he was quick to realize that I don’t mix well with chicks. He also introduced me to some of Bellevue Springs' most eligible bachelors who don’t strut around with poles up their asses, then he introduced me to the very opposite. The people he thinks I should stay away from are most likely the people I’d get along with; the wild ones, the ones who know how to hook me up, and the ones who wouldn't judge me if I got fucked up and woke up in a strange hotel room.
I walk out of the bathroom and as I go, I pass one of those girls with a tray of champagne flutes. Clearly having learned nothing from my mistakes, I bring the glass to my lips and take a nice long drink.
Fuck.
Yep, it still tastes like piss, though now that my mind is a little foggy with all the fruity yumminess I’ve been drinking, it’s a little more tolerable. So because I like to punish myself, I throw back the rest of the glass and try not to choke on it. I'm a smart bitch like that.
I set the empty glass down on the edge of a stone statue in passing as I search for my new husband among the crowd. I wonder how many husbands I'm going to have before I get kicked out of Bellevue Springs.
“Yo, Help.”
Chills run down my spine as I turn back to find my original Bellevue Springs husband staring at me, only it’s not just Spencer, it’s all four of them.
The second they get my full attention, eyes begin scanning up and down my body and I want nothing more than to smack the hungry expressions off each of their faces. This honey pot is not for sale, especially to douche canoes like this.
I can’t help but look over them, and by ‘them’ what I really mean is Colton. He looks incredible, he’s practically oozing power and it speaks right to my soul. How can one person have such an effect over another without even murmuring a single word?
I wonder what would happen if I licked him right now? Nah, he probably wouldn’t like that.
One part of me wants to high-five the guy and tell him to go get it while the other part wants to push every single one of the buttons on his expensive suit and see just how far I can push him.
His suit sits over his body just perfectly and it makes me so damn hungry. He looks sharp, demanding, and completely in control. That is until I notice the tiny little CC cufflinks at his wrist and realize that on top of looking like a fucking beast, he also looks like an arrogant asshat.
The other three look like children playing dress-up with Daddy’s money while Colton Carrington looks like the fucker you don't want to be sitting across from in a boardroom meeting. Despite the smile across his handsome face, he looks dangerous. He fucking owns it and damn, it's the most attractive thing I've ever seen.
Colton oozes power and to me, nothing could be sexier.
Realizing I'm probably drooling, I pull on my game face and straighten my shoulders before his hazel eyes paralyze me. “What do you want?” I demand, my attitude coming out fast and thick as I stare down Spencer with a lethal glare.
His arm raises, holding out an empty tumbler to me and on instinct, I take it. “Scotch neat and make it quick.”
I pull back, in confusion. “Excuse me?” I question as a slight smirk plays on Colton’s lips.
Spencer stares as though I’m some kind of daft moron. “I don’t make a habit of repeating myself,” he says, dragging his gaze away from mine and rolling his eyes as he looks across at Colton. “I thought your dad only hired the best. His standards are slipping.”
Hired? The fuck? Does this fucker think I’m working at this party?
My gaze narrows on him but before I get a word out, Jude thrusts his empty glass into my other hand, and I find myself flinching from his closeness. “I’ll take a whiskey sour but go easy on the lemon.”
Charlie grins, stepping into me and lowering his voice to a seductive whisper. “I’ll just take whatever you’ve got on offer,” he murmurs, as my eyes flick around the party to notice that the other waitresses are also in black dresses with a similar cut across the chest. Their dresses are all cocktail length with thick straps over their shoulders. Honestly, while they look great, their dresses have nothing on the gown that’s currently hugging my body.
I guess on some level it makes sense for someone to mistake me as ‘the help’ but these four? No. They're just being pricks. They know damn well that I’m not working at this party.
Deciding to play their little game, I swivel my gaze to Colton. “And for you Mr. Carrington?” I question, adjusting the empty tumblers in my hands and staring heavily into his eyes, daring him to try me.
He doesn’t respond, just stares with the challenge bright in his eyes. They narrow and I watch as his chin raises. I don’t doubt he’s weighing his options. The corner of his lip lifts and just like that, it’s game time.
Excitement bubbles within me.
“Scotch neat,” he murmurs in that low, domineering tone that makes my core rattle with desperation.
I grin and just as I go to leave, Jude raises his ugly head. “What the fuck are you waiting for, help? Get out of here and make it fast. You’re not getting paid to waste my fucking time.”
I scoff under my breath and walk straight through the center of them, barging my way between Jude and Colton’s shoulders, regretting it a second later when I remember that I’ve drunk way too many of those magical fruity drinks to be making movements like that.
As I finally pass them, I hear Jude’s disgusted scoff behind me. “Jesus fucking Christ. That chick is such a bitch. What does she think she’s doing hanging around a party like this? Doesn’t she realize she’s the punchline in everyone’s joke tonight.”
His words sail right through to my soul and tear me limb from limb. It fucking aches yet somehow I keep myself moving. I’m a fucking joke. He’s right. I’m the white trash playing dress up in a world I don’t belong in.
Embarrassment sweeps through me. All night I’ve been shamelessly drinking and laughing with Milo. He’s had his hand on my ass on the dancefloor, there have been drinks delivered one by one to our table with a stack of food higher than the ceiling and for a moment, I allowed myself to believe that I was just as good as the other fuckers in the room.
Charlie�
��s voice comes murmured behind me. “Dude, she’s going to spit in your fucking drink.”
There’s a sharp scoff and I hear the familiar tone of Colton’s voice but his words are muffled by the music.
I keep myself moving while feeling like an absolute piece of shit. I bet all these rich party goers have been laughing behind my back all night. Here I was, foolish enough to assume the music was tonight’s entertainment. They’ve probably had bets on when the trash was going to embarrass herself or cause a scene.
Well, I’ll fucking show them.
I barge my way through to the kitchen and drop the glass tumblers down into the sink, not giving a shit about the people madly scrambling around me, trying to make the night go off without any issues.
I keep walking around to the bar and grab a tray before slamming four clean tumblers down. I can’t even remember what they ordered, but I really couldn't give a shit. I mean, what the fuck is the difference between neat and sour, and what the fuck was Jude saying about lemon? It doesn’t matter to me.
I grab the closest bottle which is a bourbon and freely pour into each of the glasses. No measuring, no fancy pour just straight from the bottle into the glass which was probably made of diamonds mined by child slaves. I give each tumbler an extra dollop of fuck you before slamming the bourbon down and scooping up the tray the same way the waitresses have been all night. After all, if I want to look the part, I have to play the part.
I walk back out to the party which suddenly doesn’t seem so appealing. I spy Milo sitting at our table, looking around and probably wondering where his fake date has gone. I duck and dodge around the pretentious assholes who reach for the glasses on my tray.
As if feeling me coming, Colton looks back over his shoulder. His eyes narrow on me as he takes in the tray sitting firmly in my hand. He turns toward me and on cue, the other three stooges do too. “Took fucking long enough,” Jude mutters beneath his breath.
I smile wide, ignoring the way they make me feel like the trash they always claim me to be, just like a good little waitress should.
I reach for a glass, knowing I’m going to have to make this quick.
“I tried to tell you,” I say, raising my chin as my fingers curl around the tumbler. “I am not the fucking help.”
My hand shoots out and the bourbon hits Jude right in the center of his douchey looking suit. A loud gasp comes sailing from his mouth but before he even has a moment to comprehend what the fuck is happening, the glass is slammed back down on the tray and replaced with another that’s aimed for Spencer's chest.
“I am not fucking trash,” I demand, slamming the second glass down and grabbing the third. It goes sailing through the air toward Charlie’s chest. “And I’m not some fucking whore who’s going to peel off my panties and let you fuck me over.”
“The fuck are you doing?” Colton demands as Charlie is drenched in liquor.
Last but not least.
My glare snaps to their leader as my fingers curl around the fourth glass, more than ready to douse him in bourbon. “And as for you, you fucking pretentious asshole, you can suck my motherfucking, big ass dick.”
The fourth shot of bourbon goes sailing through the air but after his three friends had already been covered in bourbon, he’s quick enough to dodge out of the way and avoid his fancy suit being ruined. Unfortunately for them, Spencer and Charlie are hit with a second dose instead.
“You’re going to pay for that,” Spencer roars, barging past his friends, looking like he’s more than ready to tear me apart, and not in the good way.
I give them a beaming smile. “Here’s the fucking drinks you ordered,” I tell them before slamming the tray of tumblers into Spencer’s unsuspecting chest and spinning on my heels.
Holy fuck. What did I just do?
I race away as the familiar sound of shattering glass echoes through the ballroom behind me. Gasps of outrage are heard—Jude’s being the loudest—and I expect a firm hand to wrap around my elbow and pull me back, but when nothing comes I pick up my pace and run out of here.
Fuck the party, fuck this stupid gown, and fuck them. Who are they to bring me down? Who are they to make me feel worthless? I’m a fucking Goddess. I may not have some fancy title or have a daddy with a swelling bank account, but I know what it’s like to hustle. I know what it feels like to have to work for everything you’ve got, and these guys, they wouldn’t recognize that shit if it bit them on their fucking entitled asses.
I storm out through the back doors of the ballroom and past the stupid gardens that you’d never see in Breakers Flats.
I want to go home. I’m over this bullshit. It’s been a struggle since the second we moved in here. The boys tried to warn me that we didn’t belong but I went ahead anyway, hoping for the best of a shitty situation. I should have just taken Nic up on his offer. He would have looked after us. He would have made sure we were alright. We just had to go and insist that we could take care of ourselves. Well, fuck that. I don’t want to be some stupid idiot self-sufficient bitch anymore. I just want the world to open up at my feet and swallow me whole. I’m over this bullshit.
I cut around the back of the property, getting pissier by the second with how damn far the pool house is from the party. It was probably built for the sole purpose to keep the help as far away from them as possible. They wouldn’t want their guests knowing they have trash living on the property.
Keeping my feet moving, I curse myself for deciding to wear these ridiculous shoes. They're absolutely beautiful but my feet hurt and I can’t run nearly as fast as I want to. I turn the corner to walk around the side of the pool house and come to a startling stop when I find Charles Carrington with his dick in his hand and a blonde with her mouth full of it.
What the fuck?
My eyes bug out of my head and I'm like stone for the shortest second. So much for the theory of Charles being hung up on his ex-wife because it looks a little more like he’s hung up on the chick with the fake titties, botox, and cock-sucking lips.
Charles leans back against the wall of the pool house, his eyes closed and euphoria over his face.
I hold back vomit. The dude is kind of hot for an old guy but still, that’s not something I ever wanted to see. His hand is in the back of her hair, messing it up as he grabs chunks of her platinum extensions and forces her back and forth.
Fucking gross.
The sounds of her gags have me slipping back into the shadows and rushing around the other side of the pool house to the front door. The second I barge my way through it, I slam the door with everything I have, desperately needing some sort of outlet for my anger. Only as the door closes, it flies back open with a very pissed off momma bear scowling at me.
Mom hardly gets a word in before Harrison is there and all hell breaks loose.
He yells at Mom about keeping her daughter in line, Mom yells at me about keeping myself in check, and I yell at Harrison for having the audacity to come into this space that is ours and yell at my mother.
It’s a whole clusterfuck but after a few minutes of back and forth bullshit, Mom and Harrison realize there’s a party going on without them and scramble away, though Mom doesn’t leave without a promise that this isn’t over.
I drop down onto the couch while needing something … anything to help the anger fade from within my chest. I’d give anything to go back into that party and make them pay all over again. Hell, if I could just get my hands on them.
I’ve never been one for using a gun but knowing it’s safely tucked into the back of my underwear drawer makes it incredibly appealing. I could just scare Jude with it a little.
The door opens and I glare at the wall “Fuck off,” I yell over the couch.
“Well, that’s no way to talk to the guy who could make it all go away.”
My eyes bug out again and I throw myself off the couch and run into Nic’s open arms. “What are you doing here?” I demand, crushing my face into his solid chest and hating the way my messed
up emotions have tears streaming from my eyes.
“Milo called.”
I let out a soft groan. “Of course he did.”
“I was close by so … you know.”
I nod my head against his chest, breathing him in and hoping his presence is enough to make the anger fade, but it doesn’t work the way it has a million times before. I glance up. “You were close by?” I ask, raising a brow and knowing that means he had gang-related business around here but the question is what? What kind of people in Bellevue Springs would have business with a Black Widow?
Nic shakes his head. “You know, I really don't understand why you keep asking. I’ve never told you before, so why the hell would I start now?”
“Good point,” I murmur, dropping my gaze.
“Do you need me to go and fuck up some rich boys?”
I let out a sigh. While the idea is appealing, they’ve already fucked up Jude and it didn’t help to reel him in. Our usual tactics don’t work with these people. They don’t get intimidated the same way people back home do because they have nothing to lose. They will always have money at their back and that speaks so much louder than anything else.
Nic shuffles around and motions to a bag on his back. “Come on,” he says with a familiar sparkle in his eyes that has excitement shooting through me. “I’ve got just the thing that would cheer you up.”
With that, Nic takes my hand and pulls me straight back out the open door. He leads me around the back of the property and as we go, I can’t help but notice Colton Carrington slipping out of the party and cutting though the gardens the same way I had gone.
I watch him as Nic pulls me along. Judging by the direction that Colton is walking, he’s aiming for the pool house, but why? To make things worse? To check on me? To make sure I’ve been thoroughly punished? Who the fuck knows? I’ve come to learn that where Colton Carrington is concerned, it could mean absolutely anything.
As if sensing my gaze on him, his eyes snap up and zone in on mine.
I narrow my eyes as he stops in his tracks.
Tough Sh*t: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Rejects Paradise Book 1) Page 15