I’m momentarily dumbfounded, but I quickly find my voice. “Are you talking about Emma Anderson?” I frown, my gaze jumping between them. “Didn’t she take her own life?”
“Your father staged it to look like a suicide.”
“How do you know that?” It’s not like I’m disputing he’s monstrous enough to do something like that, but it seems like a stretch even for him.
“The aunt you mentioned upstairs,” Cam says. “That was Genevieve?” I nod. “Your aunt knew my dad from their Rydeville High days, and she asked to meet him shortly before she died. She told him your mother believed Michael killed Emma.”
He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Apparently, your mom had evidence to back it up, but she died before she could use it.”
“What evidence?” My heart is thumping wildly behind my rib cage, and I’m wondering if this is the reason my father killed my mother. The other possibility is Aunt Genevieve lost control of her mind in the run up to her death. But, no, I don’t really believe that. She seemed lucid. If this was any other man, and any other place, I’d be highly suspicious of my aunt’s deathbed claims. Telling me my father killed my mother and telling Cam’s father he killed his sister seems a little too coincidental.
But my gut tells me it’s true.
And that we might finally be getting somewhere.
“She found the prescription for the medication used to end my…her life. Your father’s physician wrote it not Emma Anderson’s family doctor, the same man who had treated her all his life. And she had proof Hearst had paid for it.”
He clenches his knuckles so tight the skin is blanched white, and a muscle ticks repeatedly in his jaw. He’s sitting stiffly in the chair, as if every bone and sinew in his body is wired tight.
“And where is that proof now?”
“Your father has it,” Sawyer quietly confirms.
“He killed my mother for it,” I deduce, slouching in my chair, all the wind knocked out of my sails. I thought he killed her because she was planning to escape. Or maybe it was for that reason too.
“You knew?” Cam asks.
“When Drew and I got older, we suspected he’d done something because we both remember crying under the covers, terrified, when we were little, listening to Mom’s cries as he beat her. He used to fly into a rage at the slightest thing, and it was always Mom’s fault.” An errant sob slips from my mouth, and I squeeze my eyes shut to blink the memories away. “But it was only when Aunt Genevieve told me she believed my father had staged the car accident I started to accept it.”
“And what about your brother?” Jackson asks. “What’s his take on all this?”
I gulp back the lump in my throat. “Drew hates him too, but…he wants to take over the family business, and he knows he needs to keep him on his side, so…” I can’t articulate it, so I stop speaking.
“He’s happy to pretend like it never happened,” Cam snarls, his warm brown eyes almost black as he glares at me.
I don’t want to bitch about my brother when he’s not here to defend himself. We’ve fought enough about it over the years, and I’m not going there with a group of guys I distrust, so I ignore Cam’s assumption. I clutch Xavier’s hand under the table. “Xavier and I have tried to prove it, but all the evidence points to it being an accident.”
“Because your father bribed the local authorities,” Cam says. “They’re all in his pocket, and you can’t trust any of the paperwork you’ve uncovered. It’s all fabricated. Just like the reports of my aunt’s suicide.” He almost chokes on the words, and I reach out with my free hand to take his without hesitation.
His eyes divert to his knee, where my hand rests atop his, and his chest heaves. When he lifts his head, the look of pure hatred on his face confuses me. I withdraw my hand quickly, but I refuse to back down from his heated stare. “Do you blame me for my father’s actions? Is that why you hate me so much?”
“I despise everything about you. I don’t need your father’s reprehensible acts to convince me of that.”
A piercing pain slices across my chest, but he’s not getting the last word. “You think you know me, but you don’t. You know nothing about me!”
He jumps up, his chair crashing to the tile floor. “I know you’ve wanted for nothing in your life!” he shouts. “Growing up in that creeptastic mansion, being waited on hand and foot, swimming in cash. You and your brother ignoring everything your father has done. Everything you’ve done! Attending fancy dinners, going to ballet and plays, pretending like you’re not all monsters masquerading as pretentious pricks!” Spittle flies from his mouth, and his entire body is primed to attack.
“Fuck. You.” I stand. “I’m not staying here to be spoken to like that.” Especially not after I spilled my guts earlier, and now he’s throwing it back in my face.
“Do what you do best, sweetheart.” Cam invades my private space, putting his face all up in mine. Right now, I’ve no clue who he is. I thought we’d made some progress tonight, but I was wrong. “Pretend like shit isn’t happening.”
Xavier hops up, ready to explode in Cam’s face, but I hold on to his arm, cautioning him to stay back. Sawyer stands, pulling me behind him, protecting me from Cam’s vicious stare, which pleasantly surprises me. “You need to calm down and remember the bigger picture.”
“Fuck this shit. I can’t do this,” he says before storming out of the kitchen.
“This isn’t really about you,” Sawyer says, turning to face me. “You’re just an easy target.”
“Bullshit.” I shake my head. “You told me he’s conditioned to hate me. And that’s exactly what that was!”
“It’s hard to shake misconceptions you’ve believed your whole life,” Sawyer says.
“So, you’re saying the Marshalls hate me and my brother because we grew up rich and pretended like our father didn’t kill his aunt?” My tone elevates a couple of notches. “Do you hear how ridiculous that sounds? And fucking hypocritical because his family is as loaded as mine.” I’m fuming now, and I need to leave. “We’re going, Xavier.”
“This isn’t how I wanted the night to end.” Sawyer sighs. “Can we agree we have common ground and meet again to discuss how to combine our efforts?”
“On one condition.” I fold my arms and dare him to challenge me with a cold look.
“What condition?”
“That you don’t interfere on Monday at school. You let things happen as they should.”
“What’s happening on Monday?” Jackson asks, ending his silent spell.
“Things are returning to their rightful order.”
Sawyer’s brows climb to his forehead. “We won’t intervene provided it doesn’t involve us.”
“It doesn’t.”
When I take them down, it’ll be a much more sophisticated plan.
“Then it’s agreed. Do what you must.”
Jackson grins. “I look forward to the show.”
I send him a tight smile. “Make the most of your time with your fuck buddy, because she won’t be around much longer.”
He shrugs. “I’m done with her, anyway. Rochelle gives great head, but she’s a whiny bitch. There’s plenty more pussy to go around.”
“Spoken like a true manwhore,” I say, shaking my head as I walk toward the exit.
Sawyer escorts Xavier and me to the front door, and I make one final condition. “Tell the asshole he’s getting his own lunch from now on.”
“Is everyone clear?” I ask one final time before we enter the school premises and put our plan into motion.
“Crystal,” Chad says. “We’ve got this, and we won’t let you down.”
I turn to our little motley crew. “Thank you. I couldn’t have done this without you, and I won’t forget it.” I smile a genuine smile. “Now, let’s restore control.”
We split up, finishing our rounds with plenty of time to spare so we’re able to watch as it goes down.
Gradually, the scho
ol halls fill up as students arrive, everyone sharing puzzled looks as they spot the envelopes taped to lockers.
Cries and gasps ring out as they open the envelopes, and pride surges through me.
It’s incredible the number of secrets we uncovered, and no one was immune.
Not the guy whose father is fucking the local priest or the girl with the questionable heritage whose parents paid a generous bonus to their Latino maid before she skipped town seventeen years ago and certainly not the family hiding the fact their bank account contains a lot less zeroes than they’re claiming.
“You’ve got some fucking nerve,” Wentworth says, shoving his envelope in my face, his ears burning red. “And if you think this little stunt will win everyone back on your side, you’re even more pathetic.”
I straighten up, and Chad moves in closer to my side. “If you don’t think I’m serious, the joke’s on you. No skin off my nose if you want to risk it.” Wentworth has little between his ears, and I’m banking on him calling my bluff. I’ll enjoy making an example of him almost as much as I’ll enjoy destroying Rochelle.
“Everyone knows you’re Cam’s little bitch. He’ll go ape on your ass when he discovers this shit.”
“I wouldn’t count on it. But go for it. Please.”
He looks like he wants to hit me, but even he’s not that stupid. He storms off, cursing at me over his shoulder, and I look forward to never seeing his ugly face again.
I climb onto the chair outside the nurse’s office, cupping my hands around my mouth. “Listen up,” I holler, my voice carrying down the hallway. All chatter dies off, and a hush descends over the place. “Your little vacation is over now. Order is restored, effective immediately. You know the rules. Abide by them or pay the consequences. And if you think I’m bluffing, I’m not. If you test me, I will distribute the contents of that envelope far and wide. Obey and you have nothing to fear from me or the other elite when they return.” I skim my gaze over my audience, spotting tears, red faces full of rage, and abject horror. “Now, get to class before you’re late.”
Chad helps me down as familiar laughter tickles my eardrums.
“Nice speech, beautiful,” Jackson says with a wink.
“Can I still count on your cooperation?” I ask Sawyer.
“Absolutely. We’re all on board.”
I know that was directed at Cam, and I need reassurance. I eyeball him, trying not to flinch at the mottled bruises on his face and the swollen purply-blue mess around his eye. “And is His Highness aware I’m not his punching bag any longer?”
“He said we’re on board, didn’t he?” Cam grits out. “I give you my word.”
I snort. “As if that means anything.”
“I’m not getting into this with you again.” He stalks off without waiting for his friends.
“Oh dear. Was it something I said?”
“Naughty, Abigail. Very naughty. And you know he’ll make you pay,” Jackson says, and while I know he meant it as a threat, all I’m thinking about are the many delicious ways that asshole can make me suffer, already starting a mental countdown in my head.
The morning classes go by smoothly, but not everyone is toeing the line, as predicted, so I execute the next stage of my plan once everyone is seated in the cafeteria at lunchtime. Most everyone that had defected from the inner circle has returned to our section, and I welcome them warmly, noticing how they visibly relax. Little do they know I’m leaving their punishment up to the boys when they return. There’s no way we can have them thinking they can deny the rules without some consequence.
“Ready?” Chad asks, his finger hovering over the button on his iPad.
“Do it.”
Cells ping in quick succession around the room, and I smile as everyone opens up the group message we’ve just sent.
“You fucking whore!” Rochelle exclaims, jumping up and running toward me, closely followed by Jackson, Sawyer, and Cam.
Chad and a few of the guys stop her before she reaches me, keeping her back. “You filthy slut!” she screams, attempting to shuck out of their hold, baying for my blood.
“Stop stealing my lines, Rochelle, or should I call you Chastity.” I snigger. “Oh, the irony.” I walk around her as the sounds of Chastity performing for her clients echo around the room. “I knew you were a whore, but I didn’t realize you were prostituting yourself out for money. I thought you spread those legs for free.”
I shake my head, tut-tutting. “I felt a responsibility, as an upstanding member of this community, to notify your employer you were underage.” Her nostrils flare, and it only spurs me on. “So, unfortunately, you’ve been fired.” I shoot her a faux apologetic look. “But I had to ask myself what would compel a high school senior to get naked and perform sex acts on camera for random perverts to drool over in the first place? It couldn’t be because she needed the money. Not when her father is a senior stockbroker for one of the biggest stockbroking firms in Massachusetts.”
I walk around her, aware of my captive audience—well, the half who aren’t still glued to the show on their cells—and I definitely have a flair for the dramatic.
The large screen descends from the ceiling, and I hold my hand out for the remote. Chad places it in my palm, and I smile at Rochelle, not in the least bit sorry.
Jackson grins, more than enjoying the show, and I blow him a kiss.
“Imagine my surprise,” I continue, projecting my voice around the room, “when I discovered you’re about to be kicked out of school for unpaid fees.” I circle her like a hunter stalking her prey as I turn the TV on, pausing it for now. Tears roll down her face when she sees her father on the screen, and a tiny flicker of remorse erupts in my chest, but I soldier on, remembering all the things she’s done to me.
I’m not doing this to her.
She’s done it to herself.
If she hadn’t started a war with me, I wouldn’t have come out all guns blazing.
“I understood then why you were taking your clothes off on camera and meeting clients for paid sex behind your employer’s back.” I eyeball Cam as I speak my next words. “No wonder the guys in school were complaining about how loose you are. Let’s hope they all wrapped it before they tapped it, or a visit to the doctor will be in order.”
“You won’t get away with this.” She sobs.
“Oh, I think you’ll find I will.” I lean in close. “And your ex-boss really isn’t happy with you. Didn’t you know meeting clients for sex was a breach of your contract, not to mention against the law,” I glance at the Tag Heuer watch on my wrist. “The cops will pay him a visit right about now.” The sleaze deserves it, and it feels like I’ve done something good getting his operation shut down.
“Just after they’ve finished handing your no-good father over to the feds.” I press play on the CNN newsfeed, watching her entire body crumple as the reporter confirms they have arrested her father on multiple charges of fraud and embezzlement.
It seems he was doing some shady deals on the side, and when they went sour, he borrowed funds from the company he worked for, only digging himself into a bigger hole when he continued to lose big.
Not only has he bankrupted his own family, but he’s obliterated hundreds of pension and investment funds, causing hardship and suffering to multiple families. “I hope they lock him in jail and throw away the key. He deserves to die there because he’s destroyed hundreds of families due to sheer greed.”
She stares at me through glassy eyes. “What, no more insults?” I stand in front of her, and she’s broken. “It didn’t have to be this way, but you left me no choice.”
Some of her fire returns, and she spits in my face. I slap her, just once, but it’s enough to make my point.
Taking a tissue from Chad, I carefully wipe her saliva from my face. “Chad will escort you outside where a car is waiting to take you to your house,” I calmly say. “It’s being repossessed as we speak, but the bank has assured me you can keep your clothes and some bas
ic belongings. I believe you’re moving to your maternal grandparents’ farm in Ohio.” I wiggle my fingers in her face. “Bye, now. I’d say we’ll miss you, but that would just be a lie.”
I turn my back on her, muting the screen before fixing my sights on Wentworth.
I wait until Chad and the others have removed Rochelle, and then I send the next group message. Cells ping around the room for a second time, and Jackson chuckles, obviously enjoying the drama.
I load the video on the large screen, and the sounds of sex echo around the room. “Harder, Wentworth,” the middle-aged woman pants as he holds her facedown over a table while pounding into her from behind.
“You like this, don’t you, you dirty bitch,” he shouts, thrusting into her harder as sweat drips down his face. “What would your son think if he knew you let me fuck you like the filthy, cheating slut you are?”
“You motherfucking bastard!” Elijah Lantiss jumps over the table, grabbing Wentworth by the neck, and they both tumble to the ground in a tangle of limbs and swinging fists. Wood splinters as the chair he was sitting on breaks apart. I spot the vice principal hurrying my way with a face like thunder, and I stop the recording, pressing the button to retract the screen.
The school authorities know their place, and they turn a deliberate blind eye to most of our shit, but they usually call our fathers if we cross a line. I was expecting intervention, and Drew has already smoothed things over with father. I’m not sure what lies he’s told, but all I care about is my father will back me up when the principal makes the call.
The VP backs down when he sees I’ve turned off the video, shooting me a cautionary warning before exiting the room, leaving the boys beating one another on the floor.
More outraged shouts ring out as the recording sent to everyone’s cell phones progresses through the images of Wentworth fucking several of his friends’ mothers. It turns into a bloodbath as more boys join the melee. I move closer with the new elite keeping close to my side. “Enough,” I command in an authoritative voice when the beatings turn one-sided.
I want him conscious for my finale.
Cruel Intentions Page 21