Real Girl: Aston Creek High (Book 4)

by Sheridan Anne

  Maybe he was doing it on purpose, trying to draw Lucien out. If that was his plan, it worked like a fucking charm. Judging by the panic in his eyes though, I can assure you that he hadn't planned this. I’d do anything to throw myself out of this window and run to him, but it’s never going to happen. I’ll be shot before I even get my fingers curled around the latch and Slade would be shot just for the sake of it. After all, there’s nothing quite like letting a loose end get away.

  Keeping his gun held high, Lucien strides toward Slade and fuck, he looks absolutely thrilled to have him in this position.

  He says something and I curse the stupid window for locking out their conversation but as Slade’s eyes come back to mine and his hands interlock behind his head, dread sinks heavily into my stomach.

  ‘I love you,’ Slade mouths, looking as though he’s saying goodbye. I shake my head despite the pain it brings from the gun at the back of it. I need to tell him this isn’t over. Why the fuck does he look like he’s giving up? What’s Lucien saying out there?

  Lucien glances back, clearly knowing I’m watching. After all, he’s the one who wanted me to watch the show on the monitor. He’s probably loving the fact that now I get to see it up close and personal. He grins wickedly and I want nothing more than to steal the gun from the back of my head, knock this fucking guard out and then shoot Lucien right between is eyes.

  What kind of monster has he turned me into?

  Lucien’s head is thrown back in laughter and I watch as he looks back at Slade and indicates with the gun for him to get down on his knees.

  My heart races.

  There’s back and forth conversation and when Slade’s face breaks and his eyes come to me, I know that whatever was said couldn’t have been good.

  Regret flashes in his beautiful eyes.

  No, no. NO. Don’t you dare get on your knees before Lucien Valentine.

  Slade begins lowering himself to his knees and a sob pulls at my throat. “NO,” I scream, slamming my hands against the glass. “Don’t you dare give up. Get up.”

  The guard at my back presses the gun harder against my head and my face is forced into the glass as Slade looks away, his eyes dropping to the ground, filled with shame.

  No. What’s he doing?

  This isn’t right.

  Lucien says something and when Slade refuses to look up or answer, he slams the side of the gun across Slade’s face, sending a mouthful of blood soaring over the grass.

  Lucien yells, spit flying from his mouth as the veins in his neck pulse, but whatever is being said is still ignored by Slade.

  I whimper. I hate seeing him hurt. I’d do anything to race over there and check that he’s alright. He should just play along, give Lucien what he wants until there’s a chance to run. That’s what I do. That’s what I’ve lived by for the past thirteen years, but I know Slade Cruz too well and there’s no way he’s leaving unless he has me in his arms.

  With my head now slammed against the window, my hand on the glass is hidden and I’m able to curl my fingers around the latch. If this shit looks like it’s about to go south, I’ll be throwing myself out of this window at all costs. Slade will not die today. He will not be shot in the garden that I planted when I was eight years old, he will not take his final breath, and he sure as hell will not be leaving me on this earth without him.

  Lucien looks back at me with that same grin and teases me with the gun he holds at my boyfriend. He loves this. He loves the power, he loves how easily he can get to me, he loves that no matter what, I would do anything it takes to keep Slade safe, which is exactly what I did by coming here.

  I’ve never wanted to kick Slade’s ass so bad. He was safe back home. I made sure of that. Lucien was never going to return now that he had what he wanted, and instead of seeing that, Slade walked right back into it, begging for more. Fuck, he wasn’t even begging, it’s more like daring him. What kind of moron walks in here, strutting around like an idiot? My moron, that’s who. The kind of moron who isn’t going to let his girl go without a fight.

  Damn it. I love him so much.

  I should have expected this. I should have stolen a phone or somehow got in contact with him and told him not to come. Instead, I just sulked in Blake’s room for most of the afternoon. How fucking stupid could I be?

  Lucien steps into Slade, and with his eyes still on mine, pummels his fist into Slade’s stomach, winding him and forcing him to topple over. Slade’s face scrunches in pain but he doesn’t cry out, doesn’t grunt, doesn’t give up.

  I’d give anything to be able to hear what’s going on out there. Though, is it really that hard to guess? The only thing that would have Slade willingly drop to his knees before Lucien Valentine is if my life was threatened. There’s no doubt about it.

  He’d give his life for me just as I would do for him.

  Lucien laughs as I fight against the lump in my throat.

  Slade starts getting back to his knees and I silently beg him not to. If he just lays still, Lucien might give up, he might get bored and walk away. He might let him go, but the more he gives him the entertainment he’s craving, the longer this punishment will go on. The big question though, who is this punishment for? Is he punishing me because I ran? Or is he punishing Slade for coming here? Hell, this might not even be about us, this could be punishment for Daniella for having Slade in the first place.

  Lucien walks around Slade in a slow circle, dragging the gun over his shoulders and I watch with bated breath as Lucien talks.

  My fingers tighten around the window latch. I don’t like this.

  Slade’s eyes flash up to mine and in a blink, something changes. The anger and devastation morph into a terrifying horror. He starts to tell me something but as he does, Lucien grins at me and straightens his arm, his eyes darkening with a look that I’ve only ever seen once before.

  Fuck. He’s actually going to shoot him.

  He’s going to kill my Slade just to teach me a lesson.

  My heart thumps wildly and I suck in a breath, scrambling on the window latch. “NOOOO,” I scream and just as I tear the window open, the shot rings out loud, deafening me as the sound vibrates through my bones and right down into my soul.

  I’m too late. Way too fucking late.

  I scream, my voice box shattering as I hardly recognize the sound of my own voice. I throw myself out of the window, keeping my eyes on Slade as his body goes crashing down into the grass. It happens in slow motion. His eyes widen in surprise but it’s quickly replaced with agony.

  His eyes never leave mine.

  I run.

  He’s too far away. I need to get to him.

  Fuck, Slade. No. I love you. You can’t die. We need to grow old together.

  Lucien’s booming laughter echoes through my mind and despite my eyes being locked on Slade’s, I don’t miss the way Lucien wipes the blood splatter off his face and hands. The gun is pocketed and I scream as Lucien walks away.

  Slade lays in the thick grass bleeding and I’ve hardly gotten four steps out the window when a strong arm curls around my waist, hauling me back toward the house. “NO, LET ME GO,” I scream, desperately needing to get to him. I don’t even know where he was shot. In the back? In the head? Fuck, is he bleeding out? Is he struggling to breathe? Is he dying? Is he already dead?

  My fingers dig into the guard’s arm, my nails clawing at his skin, prompting him to hold me tighter and making it nearly impossible to suck in another breath.

  “SLADE,” I cry as I’m pulled away, refusing to tear my eyes off him. “GET UP. YOU HAVE TO GET UP.”

  I don’t know if he doesn’t hear me or if he’s just…dead, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t twitch, doesn’t blink, just keeps staring.

  Why won’t he move?

  Oh, God, no.

  Tears stream down my face as I struggle against the guards hold. I need to get to Slade. Why doesn’t he understand that?

  Lucien cuts in front of my vision and I try to look arou
nd him, refusing to take my eyes off my boyfriend. Lucien looks over my shoulder at the guard as though he doesn’t even see me here, as though he didn’t just tear my world into a million pieces and shatter it. “Take her to her room and lock the door. I want a guard on her door all night. She is not to move, not to eat, not to fucking breathe without someone knowing about it. Got it?”

  The guard nods so forcefully that I feel my whole body rattle.

  Lucien's eyes darken and as his eyes meet mine, he grins, and at that moment, I swear he’s the actual devil sent from hell to destroy me. “Next will be Shaylee, then Blake, Daniella, Emma, and Rain…You fuck up, you lose. Do you understand me?”

  I swallow back fear for the only people I have left in this world while unable to stop picturing the way Slade’s eyes widened in fear. I didn’t even get to tell him that I loved him.

  My whole body slumps against the guard in defeat, but Lucien’s not finished torturing me yet. “No one else has to die, Skylah. Their fates are in your hands.”

  With that, he walks away, and as my heart tears right out of my chest. I’m hauled back into the house, staring at the man who lies lifelessly in the grass, realizing that he’s gone.

  I will never love again. I will never find someone who completes my soul the way that he did, but I don’t want to. I don’t want to love another man, I don’t want to even try. I just want him. I need him, but he’s dead because of me.

  Slade Cruz was my world, and now my world is gone.

  I can feel the fight draining from my body as I realize that I suddenly have nothing to live for. Keeping my family in Aston Creek safe is all that matters now. I allow the guard to drag me away and lock me in my room. Here is where I'll live each day as a blur, knowing that my actions killed the man I love. I will never know happiness again.

  Chapter 7

  Slade

  Agony pulses through my body.

  I’ve never felt anything like it. Is this the kind of torture that Sky had to put up with while also drowning, trying to free herself, and then having her rib broken with resuscitation? Fuck, she’s more of a survivor than I could have ever known.

  This is easily the worst thing I’ve ever felt in my life. It fucking burns like someone just stabbed me with a flaming sword and left it in there to burn me from within.

  I lay in the thick grass, willing myself to move. I need to get the fuck up before Lucien decides to come and finish the job. His words ring in my ears louder than the echoing of the gunshot.

  ‘This is the only time you will ever find an advantage in being my blood. Next time I see you, this bullet will be through your eyes, but know, if you ever come here again, I will kill her.’

  He didn’t even give me a chance to run before he shot me. What kind of person shoots their own fucking son in the back? It’s as though he was putting on a show for Sky and judging by the way she screamed…the way I still hear her screaming from up inside this big fucking mansion, I know she thinks I’m gone. That cuts me more than this fucking bullet did.

  I feel it lodged into my back and the thought of getting someone to fish it out is making me feel fucking sick. Where am I even going to find someone in this fucked-up town who will be willing to help me? I’m the fucking enemy here. If any of the rich bastards around here catch me running through the streets with a gunshot wound, they’re going to assume I was either trying to steal something or I was just caught screwing someone’s daughter.

  I start trying to peel myself out of the grass while the sounds of Skylah’s cries tear me apart. I need to let her know that I’ll be alright. I need to get to her.

  I get my arm under me while trying to keep as still as possible. Each slight movement is agonizing. I’ve never felt so fucking pathetic. I’ve always prided myself on being strong, never giving up, and never backing down in the face of a fight, but the second that gun appeared at the back of Skylah’s head, I knew I’d do anything to save her, even if it meant laying down my life.

  Getting on my knees before Lucien Valentine was fucking humiliating but I’d do it again.

  She thinks I’m dead.

  God, that hurts. She must be in her own version of hell right now. All I want to do is run up there and throw my arms around her. I only saw her three fucking minutes ago and yet I’ve never missed her more. I’d give anything to hold her one more time, tell her I love her and make sure she fights this. She needs to get out. I won’t accept her submitting to him and becoming his pawn. I know she’s stronger than that but now that she thinks I’m gone…fuck, I don’t know what’s going to happen.

  I fight with everything I have just to get to my feet. My hand clutches onto my left shoulder, trying to keep it still and as I start fumbling through the grass to get to the house and get my girl, two guards come at me.

  I put up a fight but I’ve got nothing left and my attempts are pathetic. They drag me out and as I go to scream out Skylah’s name, a fist is pummeled into my jaw to shut me up.

  I have no choice. I have to leave her. At least for now. I will be back and I will be taking her home. If I were to stay and fight this, I don’t doubt that Lucien will come out here and finish me off, just as he promised and what good would I be then?

  It’s the smart, rational option and as much as I hate it, I have no choice. In order to save her, I have to leave her.

  The thought makes me sick and as these bastards drag me back toward the front gates, I stare back at the mansion, wondering if she can see me from the windows, but I doubt it. She’s locked up in her ivory tower like some kind of princess, dying to be freed.

  With each step they drag me, I feel further and further away from her. I’ve failed her again…I’ve been failing her since the very first day she showed up in Aston Creek. She deserves so much better than this, better than me. She’s a fucking angel and I’m nothing, but right now, I’m all she’s got and she needs me more than ever.

  I will not fail her again.

  I’m thrown through the gates, landing on my chest and desperately trying to protect myself from the pain that follows. My eyes clench as my jaw tightens so hard that I fear I could crack my own damn teeth. Despite how bad it hurts, nothing hurts more than knowing my girl thinks I’m dead.

  The guards walk away with a scoff and it’s as though they think escorting me out of here was below their paygrade. I groan as I raise my head from the polished drive and am thankful my truck is still here. I grab hold of the fender and use it to haul myself up, feeling slightly smug about the pool of blood I’m leaving behind. Then just out of spite, I mess it the fuck up, spreading that shit around and making it a nightmare for the fucker who gets tasked with cleaning it up.

  Digging into my pocket, I grab my keys and reluctantly get into my truck. I can’t take my eyes off the property. The second I drive away, I’ll be officially leaving her behind and it doesn’t sit well with me. I fucking hate it.

  Fuck, just the thought of what he could be doing to her right now haunts me.

  She’s in there hurting…

  Not having the strength to leave her just yet, I find my phone and hit Blake’s number. He answers on the first ring, probably sitting by his phone all afternoon, waiting for my call. “Did you get her? Where is she? Put her on.”

  My gaze drops to my bloodied hand, feeling so fucking ashamed of myself for having to tell him this, especially considering the tone in his voice suggests that he had all the faith in the world that I would get her. He didn’t think giving up was an option for me, and really, I never thought it would be either.

  I feel fucking sick.

  I let out a heavy sigh. “I…I couldn’t man.”

  Blake goes quiet. “She’s still there?” he questions with a whisper.

  “Yeah. He had a fucking gun to the back of her head. I couldn’t risk that.”

  “FUCK. What now? Are we supposed to just leave her? Let her marry some rich douchebag and forget about her?”

  The fuck is wrong with this kid? Does he even know w
hom he’s speaking to?

  “Fuck, no. Never. She ain’t marrying that sick fuck. I will get her back, but it won’t be today. We just have to play this right. We need a plan or…fuck. I don’t know, we need something but storming in like I just did isn’t the answer. He won’t hesitate to kill her.”

  “I could have told you that. Oh, wait…I fucking did.”

  “Fuck off, Blake. At least I’m here. I fucking tried to get her and now she knows that we’re not leaving her behind…except…”

  “Except what?”

  “She thinks I’m dead.”

  “The fuck? What the hell went down over there?”

  “Lucien shot me in the fucking back and promised that if I show my face around here again, she’ll be next. We need to play this right.”

  Blake groans and the frustration coming out of his tone is as clear as day. “What the fuck are we supposed to do? We’re fucking high school kids and Lucien is at the top of his fucking game. Not to mention that Marcus Mahony is a step above that. Scrap that, he’s ten fucking steps above Lucien. These guys are un-fucking-touchable.”

  I shake my head to myself, lost in my own fear of not knowing. “We’ll work it out,” I promise him. “But for now, you need to tell me where the fuck I can get this damn bullet out of my back without a damn hospital asking questions.”

  “Shit. It didn’t just go through?”

  I glance down at my shoulder despite knowing damn well it didn’t go through as if it had, there’d be a fucking hole in my chest and I’d probably be dead on Lucien’s lawn. “Nah,” I say with a groan, the slight movement being enough to remind me how much fucking pain I’m in. “It’s lodged against the bone. It fucking kills, man. I need someone to fish it out.”

  “Um…” he goes quiet for a moment, thinking over his options. “Your best bet is Lucy Carroway but I don’t have her number anymore. Sky made me throw my phone when we ran.”

  “You know where she lives, right?”