Cruel Intentions

by Davis, Siobhan

  I look like I lost a fight with a semitruck.

  But that’s the point.

  Drawing brave breaths, I take one final look in the mirror, silently championing myself as I exit the bathroom and head toward the cafeteria.

  The hallways are empty. The only sound the tap-tapping of my shoes. Noise wafts from the busy cafeteria out into the hall as I stand with my hand gripping the door handle, blood thrumming in my ears and butterflies skating around my chest.

  My mouth is dry as I push the doors open and step foot inside the packed room.

  No one notices at first.

  I keep my head held high, my shoes squeaking across the floor, as I make my way to the new elite’s table. A few shocked gasps ring out as people gradually take notice. Brief flashes erupt around me as people take photos on their cells. And a deathly hush descends on the room when I slam to a halt at the new elite’s table, dropping my book bag onto a chair with a loud thud.

  The guys stop talking and eating, looking up at me. Sawyer blinks repeatedly, a look of horror appearing on his face. Jackson’s lopsided grin instantly slides off his face, and his head whips in the elite’s direction. Cam’s hands ball into tight fists on top of the table as his eyes skim over my bruised flesh. Fire burns in his eyes, and he holds himself rigidly still, his face a scary mask of pent-up aggression. “What the fuck happened?” Cam asks.

  “You tell me.” My eyes seethe as I examine their faces for clues, but all I’m seeing is genuine shock and anger.

  “I don’t understand.” Sawyer’s brows knit together. “Why would we know?”

  I don’t have time to waste on bullshit. Placing my palms on the table, I lean down. “Did you send Trent’s father a letter telling him I was no longer a virgin?”

  Sawyer’s shocked eyes meet mine. “No! Hell no.” He lowers his voice. “Why would we do that when we’re working together?”

  “Your father did this to you?” Cam asks in a low, menacing tone.

  “My father and Trent,” I say in a louder voice, uncaring who hears.

  “Motherfucking bastards,” Jackson says in a clipped voice.

  A shadow looms on either side of me, and I straighten up, my face grimacing as pain twists my back into painful knots.

  “What are you doing, Abby?” Drew asks, reaching for my arm.

  “Asking the enemy if this was their doing,” I confirm, acknowledging Charlie with a nod. I deliberately did this in public for several reasons, this being one.

  “And was it?” Drew asks, frowning when I shuck his hand away. Out of the corner of my eye, I spy Trent glowering in this direction. He has a petite blonde perched on his lap, which is a first. Not that I care.

  I’m done with Trent.

  If my father patches things up with his father, I’ve decided I’m just going to take my money and my fake ID and disappear. I’ll worry about how to protect myself when he comes after me at a later stage.

  “No.” Sawyer stands. “We had nothing to do with this.”

  Cam swings his body over the table, sending plates crashing noisily to the ground. He grabs Drew around the neck, his eyes wild as he stares at my brother. “You let them do this to her?”

  “You don’t understand.” My brother pants. “I couldn’t stop it.”

  Cam shoves him away, and Drew falls on his butt on the ground. “You’re right. I don’t.” Cam casts a venomous glance over his shoulder at Trent. “Because if he did that to my sister, he’d be under six feet of rubble by now.”

  Drew climbs to his feet, looking strangely at Cam. Then his eyes narrow, his nostrils flare, and he swings his fist at Cam, growling, as he punches him in the face. “That’s for spying on my fiancée.”

  Cam deflects his second hit, grabbing Drew’s wrist and holding him back. “You don’t get to do this. Not after you let Abby down.” He glances over his shoulder at Trent. “And you’re still cozying up to that asshole.”

  “Trent will pay for hurting Abby,” Charlie says. “That’s a promise.”

  “Were you there?” Sawyer asks, looking slightly confused.

  Charlie tersely nods his head.

  “How the fuck did this happen,” Cam growls, throwing the weight of his anger in Charlie’s direction, and now, I’m confused.

  “Oh, shit,” Drew exclaims, looking behind me. I turn around, watching Trent saunter toward us, towing the little blonde with him, wearing false bravado to disguise the rage bubbling under the surface. As if he has any right to it.

  I’m the one who was humiliated and violated.

  He doesn’t get to throw his anger in my face.

  Drew and Charlie stand by either side of me as Jackson comes around the table to stand beside Cam and Sawyer, just behind me.

  Trent’s gaze slowly rotates among us. “Barron, Manning,” he says, jerking his head in acknowledgment at the guys. “Whore,” he seethes, pinning murderous eyes on me.

  “Small dick,” I reply, happy to finally be playing this game. It takes a lot of self-control not to lunge at him and claw my talons down his face. Looking at Trent has always been difficult, but now, I’m sick to my stomach at the sight of him, remembering how he caved to my father’s commands without hesitation.

  He barks out a laugh. “Funny. I think most of the chicks in this room can attest to the opposite.”

  The bimbo at his side giggles, and I roll my eyes. “And you have the nerve to call me a whore.”

  “If you hadn’t been such a frigid bitch, I wouldn’t have had to look elsewhere,” he sneers, and the plaything under his arm giggles again.

  “I thought I was a whore. Now I’m frigid?” I arch a brow. “Make up your mind.” His nostrils flare, and I move a step closer. “I’ll help you out,” I say, ensuring my voice is loud enough for those close by to hear. “I have standards hence why I wanted your STD-ridden cock nowhere near me. Hell, I can barely even tolerate looking at you.” I narrow my eyes and glare at him. “And now I can add sex offender to the list of adjectives I use to describe you. I’ll remember to include that when I’m making my police report.”

  He laughs, and I raise my hand, ready to slap him when Charlie wraps his fingers around my wrist, pulling me back. “He’s not worth it.”

  “Forgotten what team you’re playing for, Charlie boy, or you think you finally have a chance at getting into her panties?” Trent pushes all up in Charlie’s face. “Trust me, she’s far too much work.” A wicked glint appears in his eye. “And after I had my fingers in her cunt last night, I can confirm her pussy’s nothing special. She was so tight I’m wondering if she did accidentally break her hymen riding a bike or something.”

  The blonde giggles again, and I’ve officially run out of patience. “Chad!” I holler, gesturing him forward. He’s by my side in a nanosecond. “Please take out the trash.”

  “My pleasure, Abigail.” He turns to the blonde. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

  She laughs, clinging to Trent’s side, but he’s too much invested in this conversation to waste time with distractions. He shoves her away without even looking at her. Her whiny voice bores through my sore skull as Chad leads her away.

  “As I was saying,” Trent interjects before anyone else can put in a word. “My guess is she’s still a virgin. Not that anyone will believe that now.” He sends a smug grin my way. “Sucks to be you.”

  I smile sweetly at him. “Sucks to be you, and I hate to burst that self-inflated bubble, but I didn’t break my hymen riding a bike. I did it the traditional way.” I lick my lips. “I had sex with a guy who rocked my world all night long, and it was a million times better than it would’ve been with you.” I rake derisory eyes over him. “I chose a guy who knew how to take care of my needs.” I prod him in the chest. “Not a selfish fucking prick who jerks off and runs, with no regard for his lover.”

  “You didn’t,” he seethes through gritted teeth.

  I flash him the biggest grin. “Oh, I did. Over and over and over again.” I drag t
he words out, really going to town. “And the next day, when my body ached deliciously, I replayed it in my mind, and I laughed at the thought of getting one over on you.” My grin expands even wider. “I’ve been laughing at you for months, Trent, because this entire time you’ve been trying to force your way into my bed, thinking you would be my first, when another guy already beat you to it.” I cup my hands around my mouth. “Loser!” I whisper-shout, and he lunges at me, but I’m ready for him this time.

  Adrenaline temporarily papers over the pain in my body, supercharging my arm as I swing it around, landing a punch square on his nose. He’s caught off guard, stumbling back against a chair, falling clumsily to the ground, and I’m on him in a flash, unconcerned about retaliation as I jump on him, landing punches to his face and his chest, pulling his hair and dragging my nails across his face.

  Strong arms lift me up off him, and I thrash about, kicking my legs out, hoping I might catch him in the balls. “Get her out of here,” Drew says, handing me off to Charlie. “I’ll deal with Trent.”

  Charlie cradles me against his chest as all the fight leaves me in a rush. I rest my head on his shoulder, locking eyes with Cam as Charlie carries me out of the room. I expect to see a smug expression on his face after the compliments I just showered him with. But a conflicted look paints his face instead, and a plethora of different emotions stare back at me. His mask is down, and he wants me to understand he’s showing me something real. He doesn’t take his eyes off me for a second, and unspoken words pass between us, and I know, without a shadow of doubt, that Camden Marshall did not write that letter.

  I’d stake my life on it.

  But if the new elite aren’t behind this, who is? And what do they have to gain by revealing my secret?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  By mid-afternoon, I’m flailing. I used up whatever additional reserves of strength I had during the confrontation in the cafeteria. Combined with the fact I neglected to bring my pain pills with me, and my body aches like a bitch, I’m fading fast.

  The teacher’s voice drones on, and I rest my head on the table, trying to blank out his voice and the darts of pain rattling through my skull. The longer he goes on, the worse I feel. Heat radiates from my bruised ribs, burning me up under my uniform. Sweat sticks my shirt to my back, and damp tendrils of hair curl around my brow. Nausea swims up my throat, my stomach churns violently, and I fear I’m going to be sick.

  I jump up, swaying dangerously as I grab my book bag and stagger from the room, ignoring the teacher’s questions. The door crashes against the wall as I body slam my way out into the empty hallway, clutching a hand over my mouth while my body heaves.

  I can’t even cry out when I’m unexpectedly drawn into a warm body, and a sturdy pair of arms slide under my thighs. “I’ve got you,” Cam says, running with me in his arms toward the nearest bathroom.

  He’s only just deposited me in a stall when I throw up the contents of my meager lunch into the toilet. My body continues to heave, rejecting whatever I have in my stomach, until there’s nothing left to expel. My ribs throb, my head feels like it’s splitting wide-open, and I’m on fire, burning up as if my body is engulfed in flames.

  I slump against the back of the stall as Cam speaks into his cell in hushed tones, his worried eyes roaming over my face. I try to remove my jacket, but my arms won’t cooperate, flopping at my sides every time I try.

  Cam ends his call, pocketing his cell, and crouches down in front of me. “Where does it hurt?” he asks, scrutinizing my eyes.

  “Everywhere,” I rasp, squeezing my eyes shut as blinding pain rips through my skull. “Too hot,” I murmur, feebly attempting to remove my jacket again.

  “Can I?” he asks, in the softest tone, and I force my eyes open. I can barely summon the energy to nod, but my eyes convey my permission.

  With gentle hands, he strips me out of my jacket and shirt, leaving me in a camisole and my bra, before scooping me up into his arms again. The jostling movement of his body lulls me into a sleepy state, and I slump against his shoulder, my arms loosely hanging around his neck. “Sleep, baby,” he murmurs. “I’ll take care of you.”

  And for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, I black out.

  When I wake, I’m in a strange bed, covered in black silk sheets that feel incredibly soft under my aching body. “Abigail,” an unfamiliar voice says, and I jolt awake, jerking away from the stranger perched on the side of my bed.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” Cam says, appearing on my other side. “He’s here to help you.”

  “Who are you?” I ask, whimpering as my sore limbs protest when I sit up. I’m still in my camisole and bra, and someone—Cam most likely—removed my skirt, socks, and shoes, leaving me in my white silk panties.

  “He’s my cousin,” Cam blurts, leveling the good-looking dark-haired guy with a strange expression.

  “I’m in Harvard training to be a doctor,” the cousin says. “Cam asked me to come by and check you out.”

  “I’m fine. Just sore and need to sleep,” I mumble.

  “That’s not what the doctor who examined you last night said,” he calmly refutes, his blue eyes challenging me to argue.

  “You’ve spoken to that asshole?” I ask, and he chuckles.

  “Not exactly.”

  “I hacked into the doctor’s system and pulled the report,” Sawyer confirms, and I jump at the sound of his deep voice.

  I look around the dimly lit room, finding him straddling a chair. My eyes do a quick recon of the space, and I’m surprised. “I’m in your bedroom?” I ask Cam, and he blinks at me.

  “Where else would you be?” he says, looking at me like I’m crazy for even asking.

  “In one of the guest rooms?”

  “You’re staying here, and that’s final,” he growls.

  I’m too tired and sore to argue with him, so I say nothing, accepting it even if I don’t understand it. Guess he hasn’t realized the panty stash is missing yet, and he doesn’t know I broke into his room and did some snooping.

  Jackson’s trademark chuckle wafts around the room. “Is everyone here?” I inquire, squinting to make out his form in the dark room.

  Jackson swivels around in the gaming chair at the end of the room, game controller in hand. “We were worried about you, beautiful. We all wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “Why am I in your house?” I ask, as the door opens and a familiar face walks in.

  “We felt it was the safest place,” Charlie says, leaning over me and planting a kiss on my forehead. I don’t miss the scowl Cam throws his direction or the way my heart rejoices at his obvious possessiveness.

  “And you’re okay with this?” My voice drips in disbelief.

  “It’s not safe for you to go home. Your father is on the warpath. Apparently, talks broke down last night, and he’s like a caged lion, according to Drew. He’s at the house trying to calm him.”

  “And where does my father think I am?”

  Charlie sits on the edge of the bed, tucking my hair behind my ears. “He believes you’re staying at my house.” He places his finger against my lips when I open my mouth to speak. “Don’t worry. I squared it with my parents. If your father asks, you are recuperating at our place. I told my father you were with trusted friends, and he won’t pry.”

  I arch a brow. “Trusted friends?” My eyes flit to Cam, and his scowl deepens.

  “It’s a stretch, I know, but I’ve spoken with the guys, and they assure me they mean you no harm. They’ll take care of you.” Charlie stares at Cam, and Cam sends him back an equally suspicious look.

  “Better than you assholes did,” Cam challenges.

  Charlie stands, his body wired tight. “Do not fucking push me, Marshall. You’re skating on thin ice as it is. We know how you’ve treated her in our absence.” He looks two seconds away from ripping Cam’s head off his shoulders. “This is a temporary truce.” He steps up to him. “And if you harm one hair on her head, I w
ill beat the ever-loving crap out of you.”

  Cam smirks. “I’d love to see you try.”

  “Step down, Barron,” Drew says entering the room, holding Jane’s hand. “We’ve agreed. Don’t go fucking things up.”

  I lock eyes with my brother, puzzled. “So, what, you’re all friends now?”

  “Lines have been drawn, A.” Drew presses a kiss atop my head as he takes the spot Charlie vacated. The room is becoming claustrophobic with so many bodies in the space. “And the new elite have agreed to help. You need protection, and they can offer you that. You can’t come home. Father is unhinged in a way I’ve never seen before. It’s not safe, and I’m terrified of what he might do, especially if Montgomery ends their arrangement.”

  He glances briefly at Charlie over his shoulder, and they share a worried look. “Trent won’t want anything to do with you after today,” he continues. “Goading him like that wasn’t smart.”

  “Don’t start, Drew,” Jane snaps. “Trent’s had that coming for a long time.” She folds her arms across her chest. “Good riddance. He’s a fucking psycho, and you shouldn’t want him anywhere near Abby.”

  “I would never roll over after what he did to me,” I hiss. “He’s lucky I’m injured; otherwise, his dick wouldn’t still be attached to his body.” Even thinking of that bastard sends me into a rage.

  “You’re lucky we don’t stick Cam on you,” Jackson says, walking toward the bed, having abandoned his game. “How could you stand by and watch while that happened?”

  “Does everyone know?” I whisper, embarrassment crawling over my skin.

  Initial silence greets me, and I have my answer. I drop my head into a pillow, unable to face everyone knowing they’re privy to all the facts.

  “Hey.” Jane lies down beside me, curling her body into mine. “Look at me.” I blink back tears as I peer into my bestie’s concerned eyes. “You have nothing to be ashamed about. You’re the only innocent in all this.” She cuts a sharp look at Charlie and Drew, making her meaning clear.