by L. J. Woods
Still weird to admit.
“One second.” He shrugs a duffel off his shoulder before he puts the small box on top. He grabs a pen from the front cabinet, followed by a piece of paper.
My eyes go back to the box. It’s small. Velvet. Blue.
As he scribbles a note, I reach over, grabbing it. Looking over at him, he doesn’t notice but it’s not like he said it was off-limits.
When I open it, I almost drop it. An emerald and diamond ring sparkles inside, an emerald with eyes like Christian.
“Fuck.” Christian says when he turns around. He stalks over, my eyes flitting from him to the box, a twist in my stomach. “Turn my back on you for one second, Loca.”
“Isn’t this—”
“My mom’s engagement ring." He takes it from me like it’s the most casual thing in the world, my heart thumping double-time.
"Knowing Christian, he wants perfect Eden kids in a perfect Eden house for his perfect Eden life."
Jo's voice rolls through my head.
“You came back for it?”
“Sure did.” He eyes me, throwing the backpack over his shoulders as he gives the house one last look.
“Well, why?” I push. Our life is far from perfect. Marriage? What the fuck is he thinking? He’s likely not.
He chuckles. “Thought I might need it. One day anyway, but don’t worry.” He swipes at my chin with his thumb. “You can untwist your panties, that’s not today. Who knows, you might not even be the girl.” He shrugs.
“Don’t ever do stand-up ‘cause that’s a shitty joke.”
He laughs, picking up his duffel and considering what I told him, I’m surprised he does.
An arm comes around my waist before his lips come to mine, reminding me that there’s nothing but bliss in his kiss.
“So you admit it,” he says when we part. “You wanna marry me?” I pat at his chest, my cheeks getting warm before he winks. “It’s okay. All our secrets are safe with me.”
"You're so annoying."
So perfect.
Another chuckle vibrates my insides before he plants another kiss on my lips. “We don't have to get married. Not now. Not ever. You're safe with me, regardless. Always." He tugs on my lip, and I'm thinking about pulling his shirt off before he says, "I know that look. Let’s get the fuck out of here."
With my hand in his, we head for the door and into the car.
I'm leaving Eden as quickly as I came. Except this time, it’s with someone I can trust with my life.
My hand stays in his as we leave the driveway and hit the main road. A smile comes my way, a big one, like a weight just lifted off his shoulder. His mouth opens to speak before his phone goes off.
Lexi.
Shit. She’s one person I should say goodbye to in Eden.
While we’re not exactly BFFs, she’s made this place all the more bearable. Christian reaches for the ‘ignore’ button but I answer instead.
“Lexi, hey it’s me,” I start before I shake my head. “Ray. I know you called for Christian but we should talk.”
Christian continues down the road.
“Can this wait?" she asks. “‘Cause Isaac just got fucking arrested.”
Christian slams on the break, belt tightening around me as I lunge forward. “Where is he?” he asks.
“He’s at the police station but I can’t contact his dad or my mom.” There’s a shake in her voice. “They don’t care who they are. Who we are. I don’t know what to do.”
Looking over at Christian, I nod. “We’ll be there.” While we got off on a rocky start, these guys turned out to be like fam to me. Fighting with me at my lowest lows.
“I didn’t see this shit coming.” Christian sounds apologetic as he pulls a U-turn.
“It’s okay,” I reassure him, my hand tight on his knee. “He’s worth one last stop.” Especially when I remember Isaac dressed in a suit with a gun on my behalf.
Christian grips the wheel the entire way, not saying a word as all the possibilities spin through my head.
Should we even be the ones going there right now?
What if they know?
Christian's quick to pull into the station, Lexi waiting for us out front. As we hustle inside, she explains what happened.
Cops picked him up for a DUI after they fought. Sounds normal for Eden but she says something seems off about the way they won’t let him go.
She's right. These rich assholes usually get an escort home while my brother and I get dumped in the Shady Shore drunk tank.
"We'll figure this out," I reassure her. And I hope I'm right.
I’m not sure how much bail is but Christian’s able to post it and in about thirty minutes Isaac comes out in a dishevelled blue suit. He looks rattled. An array of emotions on his sweaty face. Lexi sits up with a look of relief and concern, but she doesn’t get up from the wooden bench as Christian and I approach him.
“I thought you guys left,” Isaac says, looking between us. His face is pale, hands shaky. “Fuck, guys, you didn’t have to—”
“Of course we did,” I cut him off. “What the fuck happened? I thought you rich assholes could get your way out of anything.”
“We can,” Isaac says before he looks around. He lowers his voice, gesturing for us to move in closer. We do. “But not when it’s for murder.”
My eyes widen but before we can ask any more questions, Christian ushers us all out of the precinct.
My body gets tense again. Was it Ace? Do they know? If they did, wouldn't we get arrested on-site?
It’s not until we’re in the parking lot that Christian asks the question that’s likely on all our minds. “Do you think—”
Isaac holds up a hand, turning to Lexi. “Get in the car.” He motions to a white Jag.
Her brows furrow. “We saved you from the worst night of your privileged fucking life and you’re demanding I get in the car? Do you know how scare—” she stops herself. “Fuck you, Isaac.” She saunters towards the car and he looks down before he levels with us.
“Was it about Ace?” Christian finishes his question.
Isaac shakes his head as if the answer he has is so much worse. “Marion,” he looks over his shoulder when he says it. “Looks like King’s guys didn’t clean up as well as he thought.”
“The fuck is Marion?” I ask.
Christian shouts a curse to the sky, his hand raking through his hair. Isaac looks like he’s reaching into his blazer for something. His face tenses when he realizes nothing’s there.
“Guys?”
“You guys don’t need to involve yourself in this shit,” Isaac says, glancing at the car, Lexi inside. “You guys get out. Live your lives. This shit is on me.”
“Bullshit,” I speak up before Christian can. “We’re fam, remember? Whatever this is, we’re helping you through.”
Christian's shoulders drop like he’s relieved at my words. "Are you sure? I’m not asking this of you. You can head out and I’ll be there when I can.”
“There’s no fucking chance I’m going anywhere without you, Perez,” I place my hand on his chest, over his beating heart. “I’ve only just met ya.” Only just fell in love with him.
“Loca." There’s a smile on his face, those eyes twinkling as always. The heat I'm feeling from his gaze tells me he might have just fallen deeper in love with me.
"Uh, guys?" Isaac brings us back to earth.
Christian turns to his best friend, then he nods with determination. Power.
“Fuck it. One last fight.” He pulls me close, his hands intertwining in mine. “And this time, the King has his Queen. You sure you down for this, Ray?”
For some fucked up reason, a smile hits my face even though I know our time in Eden isn’t over. “With you? I’m ready for anything.”
Bonus Scene
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What’s Next?
More Deliciously Dark Tales from Eden Gardens
Read Isaac and Lexi’s Story
(Fall 2021)
Read Jo and Damien’s Story
(Elite Royal Academy)
Also by L.J. Woods
Dark College Bully Romance
Oh My God (Saint Angels Academy #1)
Speak of the Devil (Saint Angels Academy #2)
Dark High School Bully Romance
KING (Elite Royal Academy #1)
KNIGHT (Elite Royal Academy #2)
PAWN (Elite Royal Academy #3)
Pretty Little Playlist
Songs featured and inspired
And So It Went - The Pretty Reckless
Desperado - Rihanna
She’s Kerosene - The Interrupters
Raining Blood - Slayer
Heathens - Twenty One Pilots
Kill Us - Jessie Reyez
Bad Guy - The Interrupters
Gangsta - Kehlani
Aston Martin Music - Rick Ross, Chrisette Michelle
Joke’s On You - Charlotte Lawrence
Listen on Spotify
Sneak Peek
KING: A DARK HIGH SCHOOL BULLY ROMANCE
Jo
Darkness surrounds me.
The air is hot. Scorching. Suffocating.
There’s no clarity even after rubbing my eyes and when I call out, I realize I can’t breathe.
I’m choking. Gasping. And I’m too disorientated to find a way out.
Mom, dad, Willow, the life I’ve always known flashes in front of me before the darkness eats me whole.
“Eden Gardens!” the conductor’s voice booms through the overhead speaker. Jolted from another nightmare, my eyes open, cheek against the cold glass. “The stop is Eden Gardens!”
A literal weight lifts off my shoulders and I pull my head off the window to see Willow rub her eyes. My little sister squints under the train’s yellow lights before she looks into the grey aisle. There’s a crease on her sandy-brown cheek, her fried-straight hair a mess on her round head. The way she looks tells me I should check my own reflection. When I do, I confirm my state. A damn mess.
My curls are in knots, scrunched against my head, dark circles under my eyes somehow look worse than when we left. Taking my fingers to my hair, I detangle the mess as the train comes to a stop in the dark tunnel.
Passengers stand and shuffle about, the car getting louder with clacks and chatter. I pull on my leather jacket, a treasure from my dad’s closet before turning to my sister. As passengers start to make their way off the car, I give her a weak smile, “At least we both look like shit.”
Willow matches my smile with an even weaker one, her eyes doing that thing they do when she’s barely awake. One open. One half-closed. She waits until everyone is almost off the car before she gets up and I pull my beat up Jansport from under the seat. Once I’m on my feet and in the aisle, she hands me one of two lumpy trash bags from the overhead. She takes the smaller one before I usher her towards the train’s exit.
With a thank-you to the attendant, we make our first steps off the train and into Eden Gardens. The place we once dubbed, “No Man’s Land”.
It’s a short walk down the platform and up a set of stairs before the station opens up into a miniature Grand Central.
“Woah.” Willow’s awake now, her brown eyes wide, head whipping around.
Light pours in from arched windows near the roof. Long brick columns lead my eyes to them. A large board with arrival and departure times hangs in the middle of the massive space. If it wasn’t for that and the ticket booths, I would have mistaken the station for a cathedral.
There’s a mix of flowery perfume and pastries in the air. It’s unfamiliar. New. But considering the station we came from smelt like roasted meat and piss, Eden Gardens is already an upgrade. A few men in expensive-looking suits wisp by, strong cologne encompassing them. Around them are women in colourful dresses. They all have matching handbags or heels that clack against the polished floor.
I look down at my boots and cut off denim shorts. My ripped Nirvana t-shirt hangs off my frame under my jacket. I pull my sister close, she’s not too far off in a black oversized hoodie and baggy leggings. I try not to draw too much attention to ourselves, but we already stand out like weeds.
“We’re not in The Grove anymore.” Willow’s jaw hangs as I lead her towards a set of shiny wooden benches.
My eyes wander the space as we move. A giant brass clock stands in the middle of the main concourse, time on each of its four sides. I take a look at my dad’s gold Rolex confirming the time. Minutes to six.
“Still got time before Daddy Warbucks arrives?” Willow sits on the bench, her trash bag falling to the floor. With an elbow to her knee, pointy chin in her palm, I can tell she’s as thrilled as I am.
“Just enough time to grab a snack.” I plop my trash bag on the spot next to her before I try forcing another smile. “And I smell donuts.”
She sits up for a second before her shoulders drop. “Nah, it’s okay. You don’t have to use your cash.”
“Hey, we’re in Eden now!” I sling my backpack off, putting it on the bench before opening my arms wide. “We deserve to splurge a little. Wait here.”
I head towards the smell of sweet dough and try my best not to get lost. Down a long corridor, the smell heightens and I see a display of donuts and pastries behind a glass wall. There’s already a crowd in front of the counter and I join it, my eyes on the colourful pastries in the display. Cupcakes. Croissants. Things dripping in chocolate.
Standing on my tiptoes, I scan the menu ahead. My shoulders fall. “Five dollars for a donut?” Groaning at my first taste of Eden prices, I rummage through my jacket pocket. Pulling out enough crumpled bills, I’m relieved I have enough for what I promised.
It takes a few minutes, but I finally get to the front, a short barista in a black hat pursing her lips my way. I’m about to order a Regular Glaze when I’m interrupted by a wide man in a black suit, “One Americano and a pesto panini.”
The barista nods and turns around before her blonde coworker smiles towards me. I open my mouth to speak but it’s not my voice I hear.
“Two double espressos.”
I turn around to see a woman in a white pantsuit holding up two manicured fingers.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
The blonde barista nods and turns around to get the order while I’m left to stand there. More people in suits push me from side to side, yelling their orders at the baristas who continue to ignore me.
I try my hand at their tactic, yelling towards them, “A glazed donut please!” No one even glances my way so I try again. “Glazed donut!”
I’m nudged to the side once more, this time by another leather jacket. “One large black. Shot of espresso.”
The boy next to me is nowhere near as old or as corporate looking as the rest of the people standing at this counter. But he has inches on my height, giving him the extra advantage of getting noticed. I look down at his shoes, but the leather on his feet don’t show a platform.
“Fuck,” I mutter, my arms slapping against my thighs. “All I want is a glazed fucking donut.”
I hear his voice again. It’s low, smooth like he’s not a care in the world. “And whatever it is this…Gwen Stefani wannabe is yelling about.”
I look up to see light blue eyes looking back, though they look like they’ve got a hint of grey. They’re glossy under thick dark eyebrows, and I can make out a swoop of matching hair under his grey hoodie. He turns his attention away from me without another word. Resting his elbows on the glass counter, he leans against it with a small stagger.
My eyes wander over his outfit, black fitted jeans adding to his dark aesthetic. The contents of my trashbag are similar, all black, but his clothes look ten times more expensive than mine.
His face gives off the young model vibe. Slender, smooth and chiselled. I stop myself from twirling my hair like a basic bitch as I watc
h a tattooed hand pull a silver coin from his back pocket. It shows off a nice ass but it doesn’t help me decipher how old he might be. His face tells me he shouldn’t be much older than me. But the wideness of his body gives the impression of a college quarterback.
Whatever the age, this guy’s smoking hot. If he’s nice enough to take my order, I should at least start up some conversation.
I clear my throat, leaning towards him. “You meant the good Gwen Stefani right? From the nineties?” I belt out the first couple lines from No Doubt’s “Don’t Speak”. Without looking, I’m guessing it’s gained me some stares from surrounding customers.
He stops the coin mid-spin between his fingers before he starts turning his head towards me. He meets my gaze and the way his eyes trail from my Docs to my head sends a shiver right through me. And when they land on my eyes my body jolts to attention.
I tilt my head to the side. His eyes look more grey this time, matching his outfit but there’s still a hint of blue. They’re deep-set and mesmerizing, and his gaze intensifies by the second. Like staring at rare gems, it’s hard to look away.
“Americano, shot of espresso and a glazed donut?” The barista’s voice pulls his gaze away and I already miss it. She pushes a tall white cup and a white pastry bag towards him. He doesn’t thank her, just takes them before he turns to walk away, donut in hand.
I look back at the barista, baffled before I follow him down the shiny passageway. “Hey!” He doesn’t stop so I call again, “Hey! Dude!” I see him make a turn and I follow, my boots thudding against the floor.
I turn the corner before I slam into something hard. “Oomph!”
When I take a step back, Hot Donut Guy has the white bag out to the side, crumpled top hanging from his grip. A smirk pulls at his bow-shaped lips before he asks, “Coming to thank me?”