I walk into the salon and the moment the lady behind the counter takes me in, her features break. “Oh, honey. Come on through. We’ve got you.”
Chapter 18
My hair flows in soft waves down my back and while it’s not as thick and now a little shorter with some new layers, it’s a million times better than it was before. Well, for what Colton just paid, he’d want to hope it was fucking perfect. I nearly died at the cost but I guess that is what you get for coming to a salon in Bellevue Springs. I could have driven to the salon back home but there’s no doubt in my mind that the Veneno would have been stolen by the time I was done.
I spent two hours with the hairdresser slowly massaging the shit out of my hair. She had to use some heavy-duty stuff but in the end, it started to come out and when it was all gone, the desperation within my soul finally began to dissipate until I was feeling normal again. Well, normal isn’t the right word. I’m far from normal and come tomorrow at school, I’ll be fucking those five boys up. Hell, I bet I could even get Charlie on board, you know after I kick his ass for caring more about his precious Ferrari.
The hairdresser gave me some products—courtesy of Colton of course— that will help to strengthen it back to its former glory. I threw in a little makeup, some nail polishes, and some styling products for mom to top it off.
To be honest, I feel a little bad about stealing Colton’s credit card and charging over eight hundred dollars to it, but I can’t find it in me to regret it. Besides, I doubt eight hundred dollars is really going to break the bank. Charles’ business probably earns over a million dollars per hour. Though, that still didn’t stop me from gawking at the hairdresser when she told me the price. I nearly died, but with a swipe of the card, it was all over.
After receiving my millionth call from Colton, I turn off my phone and drop back down into his Veneno. At least this time I will actually enjoy my ride.
I turn on the car and feel the purr of the engine. It’s perfect. I’d give my world to own something like this one day but unfortunately, my world isn’t going to be enough.
I drive through the streets, taking my sweet ass time and feeling the anger slipping away. An hour passes before I pull back into the driveway of the Carrington mansion and come to a stop right by the front stairs.
I’ve hardly stepped out of the car before Colton is flying through the door and storming down the stairs while looking over his Veneno in a way that suggests he doesn’t trust me not to break it. “You stole my fucking car,” he hollers, his voice echoing over the massive property.
I walk up to him and place the keys gently into his hand before stretching up onto my tippy toes. I press a feather-soft kiss to his cheek that has him rearing back from me. “Thank you,” I murmur, offering him a warm smile.
His brows furrow and I step away before quickly hurrying back and pulling the credit card out of my back pocket. “Here you go. I’m done with this.”
He looks at me as though I’m some sort of alien but I leave it in the past as I waltz up the sixty-six stairs leading to the front door. By the time I’m reaching for the door, Colton is by my side and pulling me to a stop. “What the hell was that?” he demands. “You can’t just take my car whenever the fuck you want. I was calling you.”
“Oh,” I say, wide-eyed, throwing in the sarcasm that I know is going to grind under his skin. “That was you? Sorry, I didn’t realize.”
I go to walk through the open door but he pulls me up again. “Seriously? That’s all you’ve got to say?”
I look up at him. “What do you want me to say? Yeah, I stole your car and your damn credit card but who gives a shit? It’s not like you didn’t know where I was. You could have come and got it. Besides, I didn't crash it, I didn’t scratch it, I didn’t even breathe funny in it, though I might have adjusted the seat to reach the pedals but that’s it. I got my hair fixed and now everything is alright in the world. Chill the fuck out. You can go back to being the stubborn asshat that you usually are and I’ll go back to pretending you don’t exist.”
“Ahh, no,” he scoffs. “That’s not how it’s going to go.”
“Oh, so you don't want me to pretend like you don’t exist. That's fine, I can let the world know that you have a little issue keeping away from me. Though, think of what they might say. Colton Carrington slumming it with the staff. Damn, that won’t look good.”
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
“Then please, enlighten me, oh wise one.”
His eyes darken and he steps into me, backing me up against one of the many pillars that wrap around the mansion. “You’re going to march your bitch ass back down those stairs and wash my fucking car until it’s sparkling and then you’re going to beg me not to kick you out of here. My Veneno is off fucking limits, especially to people like you.”
“People like me?” I scoff, pushing hard against his chest and forcing him back a step. “You mean ‘the help.’”
“No, Jade. I mean people like you. People like Oceania fucking Munroe who think that they can come in here and piss over everything that you’ve worked for.”
“Worked for? You haven’t worked for anything a day in your life. You’ve had everything handed to you on a silver platter. Oh, no, poor rich boy has to share his multi-million dollar home because Daddy hired more staff to help wipe his ass. Heaven forbid he has to get his own breakfast in the morning or wash his own damn clothes. I’m so sorry, Colton, I didn’t realize how hard your life must be.”
“Don't underestimate me, Jade.”
“For the last fucking time, the name is Ocean, you daft cunt. Learn it.”
I turn around, ready to storm through the house and cut through the staff quarters to the pool house but I come up short when Charles Carrington blocks my way. “Colton,” he demands. “I’ve just had a call from the bank. There was unusual activity at a hair salon. Did you lose your credit card? Do I need to cancel it and report it stolen?”
Oh, shit. This isn’t going to go well.
“No,” Colton says with a heavy sigh, his eyes slicing back to mine. “It was me. It’s the only salon that stocks what Cora and Casey use for their hair. They called and asked me to make a stop.”
The fuck?
I narrow my eyes on him. Why would he cover for me like that? I’m starting to lose count of how many times he’s saved my ass around here. But why? It doesn’t make sense. If he hates me so damn much, why not use the opportunity to throw me under the bus?
“Oh,” Charles says, pulling himself up and losing the attitude while acting as though they didn’t almost have a fight right by this very foyer only yesterday. “Very well then. How are your sisters?”
“Fine,” Colton says, keeping it short. “They were thinking of visiting next month.”
“That'd be nice.” Charles nods. “Now, what happened to your face? Who do I need to make a check out for this month?”
Colton shakes his head. “It was nothing. Just Spencer pissed because he found out that you’re screwing his cousin ... or screwing her over. Either one.”
Oh, shit. Shots fired.
“Cousin?” he questions and I stare between the two, waiting for the shit to hit the fan like it had yesterday.
“Jacqueline Vanderbilt. You had your dick shoved halfway down her throat during the party.”
“Oh, that’s right. Was she a Vanderbilt? Eager young thing she was, but that Spencer. He needs to learn to control his emotions.” A shiver runs down my spine at how quickly he dismisses the topic. I mean, the girl gave him the ride of his life while deep-throating him. She deserves a little more respect than that. At least, I think she does. She had some skill.
I resist scowling and then fix whatever expression may be on my face when Charles looks down at me. “Ocean. I trust you’re settling in at school. There haven’t been any more issues with the faculty?”
Wow, he just skipped over the whole beaten and bloodied son standing before him thing. Not even asking if he was alright
before dismissing that too. Though, it’s not as though I’ve even asked if he was okay. When I first saw him after school, the first thing out of my mouth was a demand for his wallet and that must make me as bad as Charles.
I raise my chin and realize that to get anything across with Charles, it needs to be quick and factual. Straight to the point. “No. Just teenage boys who are about to learn what it means to deal with Ocean Munroe.”
Charles’ face darkens and he turns an accusing scowl on Colton before licking his gaze back to me. “It wasn’t Colton and his friends retaliating for Saturday night, was it?”
“No,” I say bluntly as Colton scoffs behind my shoulder. “I’ve already handled the backlash from that.”
“Handled quietly?”
I think back to yesterday on the boat with the gun jammed under Jude’s chin and nod. He won’t be squealing about that anytime soon. “Yes,” I tell him. “It won’t be an issue.”
Charles grunts. “Good. I will not accept you dragging the Carrington name through the mud. If there's an issue, it gets dealt with quickly and in private.”
Sir. Yes, sir.
I nod while wondering what the hell happened to the douchebag I was introduced to yesterday. He’s kind of a strange mix between the Charles from day one and the Charles who silently threatened to beat the shit out of his son yesterday. Though, after seeing him with his pants around his ankles and a 22-year-old gold digger attached to his dick, it’s a little harder to take him seriously. Which reminds me, the Carrington name has already been dragged through the mud today. After Colton and Spencer’s fight, all the students could talk about was Charles Carrington dropping his pants for some random slut. The rumors that followed were just the icing on the cake.
Charles looks back to his son. “I’d like to see you in my office in ten minutes,” he instructs before turning. He goes to walk away when Harrison steps in from the side room with the guy who I'm pretty sure is the gardener, but what can I say? I haven’t really paid that much attention to who’s been running around with a pair of garden scissors.
I step through the threshold of the house with Colton at my back and start making my way to cut through the staff quarters when Harrison’s voice stops us both. “Mr. Carrington, I need to report that Enrique here has discovered some vandalism to the property.”
“The fuck?” Colton murmurs behind me.
Uh-oh.
“Vandalism?” Charles grunts, looking to the gardener. “What is he talking about? What did you find?”
Enrique looks like he’s going to be sick for being spoken to directly but he holds his shit together. “Sir, there is graffiti covering the back wall of your home and it is rather … uh. Unpleasant.”
Colton’s eyes slice to mine. He knows. There's no doubt, he knows. He saw me and Nic walking around there the other night. At the time, he probably assumed we were sneaking around there to fuck. We should have been more careful.
“Show me,” Charles snaps.
Oh, shit.
Despite not being invited, Colton and I follow along and the walk to the back of the property seems to go on forever. Colton stands right beside me the whole way. “It was your boyfriend, wasn’t it?”
I scoff under my breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He mutters low. “Right.”
We walk around to the back of the mansion and I prepare myself for my downfall, struggling to hide the grin as I look up at the work of art splashed across the back wall of the house. It’s just as amazing as I remembered it.
Colton’s face drops as Charles goes red. “This is unacceptable,” Charles roars as he takes in the very clear image of him being spit-roasted by Colton and Spencer while Jude and Charlie stand back with their dicks in their hands, holding up scoreboards. To be honest, I think Charles’ outrage comes more from the fact that the cartoon Jude and Charlie only scored him a three and a four.
“I want whoever did this found and dealt with,” Charles demands.
“Yes, sir,” Harrison says immediately. “I believe it would have happened during the party on Saturday night. Perhaps we should discuss stricter security measures for the next event.
Charles just stares, shaking his head. “No. This bullshit just doesn’t happen around here. We have been doing things a certain way for over ten years and we're not going to change now because of one delinquent.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I bet it was that Rinaldi kid,” Charles continues, looking to Colton for confirmation. “You saw how oddly he was behaving during the party. Not to mention his father barely made 500 million last year. No wonder he’s acting out.”
“No,” I rush in. “It wasn’t Milo.”
Charles turns to me as Harrison watches me through suspicious eyes and I curse myself. That was too fucking obvious and judging by the look he’s giving me, he knows too.
“How do you know?” Charles demands.
My eyes flick around and come to a stop on Colton, desperately wishing for help but I know better, he’s more than happy to throw me to the wolves. “I, uh … I was with him all night. He didn’t do it.”
Charles steps forward, narrowing his eyes. “You were with him?”
“Yes.”
“You left the party after destroying my son’s suit.”
I nod. “I did,” I say, knowing what I’m about to say is taking a risk. “He came to check that I was alright and we hung out in the pool house until his father came to take him home.”
Charles watches me for another second before his chin raises and the tension dissipates, and just like that, I'm off the hook. “Right,” he says, looking back to Harrison. “Get onto the surveillance and have it dealt with. I want it gone by the end of the day.”
Charles walks away and within seconds, Enrique scurries away. I go to leave too but Harrison steps into my way. “You have two choices,” he says, bearing down on me and not giving a shit that Colton is here watching him scold one of their house guests. “You can either clean it yourself or I can take the cost of paint out of your mother’s paycheck. What’s it going to be?”
Fuck.
“I’ll clean it.”
Harrison pulls his lips into a tight, smug line. “That’s what I thought.”
I roll my eyes and just as I go to throw shade back at him, he turns on his heel and scatters off, probably to go and make one of the staff cry. I let out a heavy sigh and after looking back at my masterpiece one more time, I cut across the lawn and head for the pool house.
I search in cupboards until I find a big bucket and fill it with warm soapy water then get something to scrub with. This isn’t exactly my first time scrubbing graffiti off a wall, but it’s the first time I’ve done it without a police officer breathing down my neck.
I haul the bucket around to the back of the house and as I turn the final corner, I find Colton sitting back in one of the sunbeds from the pool with his feet up and beer in hand. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
He winks but for once it does not affect me. “Came to watch the show. After all, if someone went to all the effort just to draw a picture of me, it’d be rude not to at least appreciate it while I can.”
“You’re an ass,” I grunt, walking up to the wall and dropping the bucket at my feet.
“And you’re a spoiled brat.”
“That’s rich coming from you. Tell me, how was the caviar that was served on your thirteenth birthday? Or what about the million-dollar deposit to your bank account that you received for your tenth?”
Colton narrows his eyes at me. “You know nothing about my life.”
“Look around you,” I say, waving my hand around the massive, luxurious property. “It’s certainly comfortable. You wouldn’t know how it feels to not be able to walk from one end of your street to the other without being shot at, or what about getting home at night to find the electricity and gas has been turned off. Do you know what it feels like to be hungry?”
Colton
’s eyes drop away and just like that, he gets it, but he’ll never understand it. Not unless it’s something he experiences for himself, but he won't. He'll never have to.
Getting nothing from him, I dunk my scrubbing brush into the water and get to work. I try to ignore his presence at my back but it’s impossible. Why is he there? Is he just bored and wants to chill out? Maybe he’s lonely in this big house and has no one to talk to, but if he felt like that, he could hang out with one of his friends. I don’t understand him and it’s driving me insane.
When it gets too much, I look back over my shoulder to find him watching me. “Why are you here, Colton?” I ask quietly, letting him know the fight is gone.
His eyes trail up my body to meet mine and I watch as confusion flickers across his face. “Honestly, I’ve got no fucking idea.”
I nod and dunk the scrubber back into the water, feeling just as confused as he looks. “Okay, then. Why did you cover for me with your dad before? You could have thrown me under the bus and told him that I stole your credit card.”
“But you didn’t steal my credit card. You stole my fucking Veneno. You came to me, you asked for what you wanted, I gave it to you and I let you walk away without putting any limitations on you. That’s on me. You could have spent whatever you wanted and it would have been on me. You shouldn’t get in trouble for something that I allowed to happen, though if you touch my fucking car again, I’ll end you.”
I keep my focus on the wall, positive that if I actually looked at him, he’ll shut down and I won't get another word out of him. “Speaking of things that you allowed to happen,” I say, skipping over the whole ‘I’ll end you’ comment because we both know that I’ll always win. “Why didn’t you do something at school?”
“What do you mean?”
“With those guys? You could have stopped them.”
“It’s not my job to fight all your wars, Ocean,” he murmurs, using my name and sending shivers shooting down my spine.
“They’d put acid in the grease. It burned my skin and snapped off chunks of my hair. I was lucky that I didn’t end up in the hospital.”
Tough Sh*t: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Rejects Paradise Book 1) Page 20