Real Girl: Aston Creek High (Book 4)

by Sheridan Anne

He pulls his hand out and dangling from his fingers is the diamond necklace he stole from Maria’s great hall. I laugh as Nessa’s eyes go wide. I’d forgotten that Damian had taken that.

  “What the hell?” Nessa shrieks, grabbing the necklace and studying it closely, instantly able to tell this thing is the real deal and realizing that a high school senior from Aston Creek would never be able to afford something like this. “Where did you get this?”

  Damian bounces his brows and lowers his voice, still so very proud of himself. “I kind of took it from Maria Valentine’s personal little stash before we burned the place down.” Nessa’s face drops as she shoves the necklace into Damian’s chest. “What? It was going to be destroyed in the fire anyway. Technically, I saved it, not stole it.”

  Her face scrunches in disgust. “You stole me a dead guy’s wife’s diamond necklace? That’s so wrong.”

  Damian’s face falls as he thinks it over. “Shit,” he says, realizing that she’s right. “I didn’t think of it that way.”

  Nessa laughs and pushes up onto her tippy toes so she can kiss him. “Why am I not surprised?” she murmurs. “You should see if you can get it changed into something for your mom. You know how she loves her jewelry.”

  “That’s not a bad idea.”

  “CRUZ AND WILDER. GET YOUR ASSES DOWN HERE. NOW!”

  Slade cringes and glances down at the court to see his coach fuming as he stares up here. He meets my eyes. “Duty calls,” he says with a slight shrug, leaning into me and kissing me once again.

  “Bring me home a win,” I tell him.

  “You know I will.”

  He winks and like lightning, he’s down on the court where the referee is calling for them to get the game started.

  Chapter 23

  It’s been two weeks since Slade found me at that gas station and they’ve been the best two weeks of my life. You know, if you don’t count the whole Lucien thing. That was kind of a buzzkill, but being home and being free is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. Well, I guess that’s not exactly true. There were four incredible years I got before my parents were killed where I had the world at my feet. But I was too young to know any better.

  Now, I’m really living.

  I have never enjoyed life like the way that I am now. The chip on my shoulder seems to have vanished, but don’t worry, I’ve been holding onto my award-winning attitude and sarcasm with both hands. I don’t think I could ever part with them.

  It’s as though I’m seeing the world through new eyes. All the evil and badness has disappeared and I’m left with nothing but happiness. I’ve been able to draw again, and fuck, I’ve been running out of canvases like crazy.

  I was caught drawing on Shaylee’s dining table the other day. She wasn’t too impressed until she realized it was a drawing of her with my mom, both happy and loving life. Shay insisted that I finish the drawing and since then has been asking about painting a clear sealer over the table so she can keep the drawing forever.

  Shay and I hop out of Slade’s Dodge as Damian pulls up behind us in his Mustang with Nessa.

  I glance through the back window at Blake and let out a breath.

  This is going to be interesting.

  Slade jumps down from the driver’s seat as I open the back door and take in my brother with his leg stretched out across the back seat. Getting him in here was one thing, now getting him out is going to be a whole other drama.

  Slade comes in behind me, looking over the top of my head at Blake as Damian appears at the other back door, opening it to get a good view of the show. “How do you want to do this?” Slade murmurs, unclear whether he’s talking to Blake or Damian. Hell, maybe it’s both or maybe he’s just thinking out loud.

  Blake shakes his head. “I don’t want to do this. I’m cool here. Just bring me a pillow and a blanket. I’ll be alright.”

  “Don’t be such a baby,” I tell him with a smirk, knowing it’s the right kind of motivation he needs to suck it up and help us to get his ass inside.

  Blake groans and looks back at Damian with a cringe, weighing up all his options. He turns back to Slade. “I don’t want that fucker touching me. He’ll probably try and shove a finger up my ass while I can’t move.”

  Damian leans into Blake, grinning while bouncing his brows, teasing my brother in the best possible way he knows how. “Well, that’s just a risk you’re going to have to take. Shay, Sky, and Nessa are too fucking small to help carry your big ass inside. Maybe if you laid off the jellos in the hospital, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

  Blake’s elbow flies back into Damian’s chest and the grunt that comes sailing out of his mouth is enough to satisfy all of our ears. “Fuck off,” Blake says, looking to me. “Did you invite him or did he just show up and attach himself to your boyfriend’s dick like a leech?”

  “Leech,” I confirm, getting an off-putting image in my head.

  Slade groans. “All of you shut the fuck up so we can get this over and done with.”

  Blake rolls his eyes, not wanting to do this but he knows just as well as the rest of us that the quicker he gets it over and done with, the quicker he can rest and forget about the pain.

  The smirk finally falls off Damian’s face as he steps in closer to my brother and looks up at Slade. “I think it’s just going to be easier if we carry him while Sky stabilizes his foot.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. We’re going to have to scoot him back off the seat and Skylah will have to be there ready to grab his leg so it doesn’t fall to the ground.” Slade presses his lips together, still thinking over the plan. “Maybe we should get Nessa to try and lift his foot off the seat as we slide him out so it’s not dragging along the seat. If the anchor pins get caught on something…”

  Blake goes white and groans under his breath as his life flashes before his eyes. “Fuck me.”

  Damian nods and turns to Nessa. “Are you cool with that?” She nods and he looks back to me and Slade. “Alright, let’s do this.”

  Slade and I hurry around to the other side of the truck as Shaylee races ahead to unlock the front door. Nessa switches spots with us and as we get into position, she climbs up into the truck and curls her hands under Blake’s leg, being careful to avoid the pins.

  This is going to be a shit show.

  If the boys drop Blake, his leg is fucked.

  If I don’t catch his foot, his leg is fucked.

  If Nessa gets caught on one of the pins, his leg is fucked.

  This whole damn thing is fucked.

  We all have to move as one.

  Fuck me. Why did we have to insist on going without the wheelchair? The boys were too fucking stubborn and thought we could handle it. After all, the space from the curb to the front door isn’t all that far.

  Yeah…they really didn’t think this through. None of us did.

  I bet they’re regretting that decision now, though, we would have still had the same situation trying to get him from the truck down into the wheelchair. Either way, it would have been a pain in the ass.

  I guess Blake is just lucky that a good part of his leg has started to heal. If we attempted this weeks ago, we would have been up shit creek without a paddle. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not as though he’s unable to do anything for himself. He could help out a bit with scooting back and helping to hold up his leg, but it takes a lot out of him and just the smallest thing could push him over the edge.

  Blake suggested to his special sponge bath nurse that he wanted to attempt getting out of bed a few days ago…let’s just say the woman lost her job pretty fucking quickly when she was caught trying to help him conquer the world. I nearly had a freaking heart attack. It’s shit like that which is going to cost him his future. He needs to play this smart, we all do.

  Eyes start darting around, waiting for someone to tell us to go as Blake sits with his eyes clenched.

  “What the fuck are you waiting for?” Blake grumbles. “Get it over and done with.
>
  That gets the boys moving.

  Slade and Damian step right into the open back door of the Dodge RAM as Nessa begins to raise his leg. I stand off to the side, preparing to jump straight in when they start to move him back.

  Blake sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth and my heart breaks for him. There’s nothing I hate more than seeing this little turd in pain.

  The boys lift him and soon enough, everything starts moving. Blake isn’t exactly light and with all his extra pieces, I’m sure it only makes it worse. They’re going to want to make this fast.

  The boys step back with Blake’s arms over each of their shoulders while Nessa guides his foot through the backseat of the Dodge. As soon as the boys have cleared enough space, I step in and take his leg from Nessa.

  We start walking toward the house and I try not to meet Blake’s eyes. If I look up at him right now, I’m going to break.

  “Nessa, honey, would you run ahead and make sure there’s space cleared on the couch?” Shaylee calls from the door as Nessa jumps down from the back of Slade’s Dodge.

  She runs around us, flying past Shaylee and getting busy inside as we walk at a snail’s pace, being so damn careful not to jostle him. I mean, what if he was to fall and the anchor pins got caught on something?

  Shivers run down my spine as I hear Slade’s low voice cutting through my mind. “Focus, Virago.”

  I swallow back. He’s right. I don’t have the luxury to be thinking about the what ifs. I need to focus on getting this heavy mother effer from the curb to the house. I have one simple job. I can’t mess it up.

  We get to the front porch and as the boys step up onto the first step of the porch, Blake lets out a shallow grunt, making both Slade and Damian cringe.

  “You’re nearly there,” Shaylee encourages Blake as we slowly pass her holding the door open for us. “You’re going to be just fine.”

  We get into the house and spin ourselves around to get Blake onto the couch at the right angle. Here he will be able to see through to the dining room and down the hallway while watching TV. This is probably the closest to the bathroom we could get him without making the tub into a bed. Though, that’s another challenge we’re yet to figure out.

  Blake’s been given a pair of crutches to use, but there’s no way in hell he’s ready for them. To be completely honest, I’m almost certain that Blake lied to the doctor and said he wasn’t feeling as much pain. I wouldn’t be surprised; Blake has a hero complex and doesn’t like to be told no.

  The next few weeks will be interesting for sure. I hope he enjoys pissing into a bottle because I would be carrying his heavy ass to the bathroom every few hours and holding him up while he pees. I’ll have to limit his water supply.

  We get him down and comfortable and Shaylee is quick to start fussing around, grabbing all his blankets and pillows from his room, making sure he has everything he needs. Even his PlayStation gets brought out here.

  I guess the swamp rat will be living on the couch for the foreseeable future. I hope he’s comfortable. Oh well, even if he’s not, he’s going to be happy because being uncomfortable at home is a million times better than being comfortable in the hospital.

  We all drop down on the couches around him, trying our best to make him feel at home. Well, most of us are. Slade is lounged back, playing on his phone while Damian sits with Nessa on his lap, checking that he’s doing okay after all his heavy lifting.

  Okay, so when I said we were all helping him to feel at home, what I really meant was that just Shay and I were helping.

  I look over at Blake and realize that for the past few weeks, all he’s eaten is hospital food. My eyes bug out of my head. The poor kid must be starving for a good meal. “Are you hungry?” I ask. “What do you want? Pizza, Chinese, something home-cooked? Anything you want…”

  “Jesus,” he grumbles under his breath. “I should have fucking psychopaths crush my legs all the time if this is the kind of treatment I’ll be getting.”

  “Oh, look at that,” I tease. “The offer just fell off the table.”

  “Bullshit,” Blake says. “You wouldn’t do your baby brother dirty like that.”

  I roll my eyes. He’s right and he knows it.

  I get up off the couch and start making my way to the kitchen to get all the take out menus I know he’s going to insist on studying. I can’t wipe the smile off my face. I’m absolutely in love with life at the moment. I have my brother back home, I have Slade, my best friends are coupling up. Not to mention that Lucien and Marcus are gone, Maria is off somewhere licking her wounds, while Shay is making progress with her relationship with Ben.

  I don’t know how we all survived this wicked bullshit but we did and we’ve come out the other end so much stronger. Hell, Slade came out with an offer to play at Lakeside University.

  “Where are you going?” Nessa calls out, cutting through my thoughts and making me silently want to hate on her for destroying my little private moment of happiness.

  “Kitchen,” I call back.

  “Oh, so was that offer of food for everyone or just for Blake? Because I could do with a drink. We could start slow with a few cocktails and then hit the hard stuff.”

  I look back at her. “You are not getting wasted here tonight. Go back to your own place and get fucked-up there.”

  Nessa rolls her eyes. “You’re such a party pooper.”

  I ignore her as I step through to the kitchen. She has a point. Blake is home. We should be celebrating, maybe not getting drunk but we should at least have a drink or two. Besides, it’s a Sunday afternoon. What’s the harm?

  I reach up above the fridge and rifle around until I find the stack of takeout menus. Half of these menus have changed at least a dozen times while the other half are for businesses that closed down years ago, yet Bake refuses to throw out the menu and always insists on scanning over it. I never claim the kid was normal…

  Reaching up to the cupboard, I find a few cocktail glasses and smirk to myself when I pull down enough for the boys. If Nessa and I are celebrating with pretty, pink cocktails, then so are the boys.

  Laughter comes from the living room and I smile to myself as I go to find the cocktail ingredients. I push up onto my tippy toes, wanting to reach the bottle of Malibu at the top when someone presses into my back.

  For the shortest moment, I think it’s Slade but the body is all wrong and considering the oversized breasts pressing into the back of my shoulders, I’d dare say I was wrong.

  The overwhelming perfume hits me before the cold, metal blade at my throat does. “Make any sudden movements and I’ll end you right now.”

  Maria.

  Chapter 24

  The knife pinches heavily against my neck as my body freezes. One wrong move from me and I’m a goner.

  I thought all this bullshit was over.

  How fucking naive.

  “You won’t get away with this,” I growl low, keeping my voice down as to not alert anyone in the other room. I can only imagine how Shay would react to this and I can assure that her panic would have me dead.

  The knife presses in harder and I feel the blade beginning to cut my skin. “I already have, princess,” she spits, mocking Lucien’s dirty little nickname for me.

  I keep my mouth closed.

  The only way to get out of this is by playing it smart and antagonizing the crazy woman with a knife who recently flipped out and shot her husband isn’t exactly a sure-fire way to make that happen.

  I’m fucked. This woman is bat-shit crazy.

  Maria had my parents killed, kidnapped us as babies, turned a blind eye to Lucien raping teens for who the hell knows how long, married me off to a millionaire rapist, and then finally lost it and killed her husband.

  This isn’t a situation I want to be in. Not now, not ever.

  My heart rate increases by the second, tripling when Maria leans into me, putting her face in beside mine as I stare at the cupboard. With the rapid way my pulse is racing, if s
he was to slit my throat, I’d bleed out in seconds. “You took my husband away,” Maria claims. “You need to make up for your sins.”

  Okay…I’ll bite. I know I shouldn't play into her twisted little game, but if she’s going to kill me, then I’ll be screaming out the truth until my final seconds.

  “My sins? Are you insane? You’re the crazy one here. You were the one who stole the gun and you were the one to pull the trigger.”

  “I wouldn’t have done that if you hadn’t lured us out. You burned down my home. You took everything away from me. I have nowhere to go, my father hates me since marrying Lucien, I have no real friends. You owe me my life back.”

  “And what about my life?”

  Maria scoffs. “I gave you an incredible life. You had everything with me, anything you wanted you got at the snap of your fingers. You had a life of privilege. You lived in a mansion, had expensive cars, designer clothes, loving parents, and friends. I even gave you the biggest wedding this world has ever seen. You never would have had that with Rochelle.”

  She spits my mother’s name like it’s filth on her tongue and I clench my jaw, struggling not to do something stupid that would cost me my life.

  “Not once did I ask for any of that. I didn’t want it. You never asked me what I wanted because you knew my answer was to go home, to have my parents back, and live here in Aston Creek. You wanted that ridiculous wedding, I didn’t. It was an embarrassment.”

  The knife cuts and I feel a trickle of blood run down my throat. “Watch what you say, princess,” she growls. “You had the world at your feet but you’re an ungrateful little bitch, just like your mother was.”

  “My mother was amazing,” I demand, not caring if I was to go down like this. I would die any day defending my parents to trash like this. “You’re delusional, you’re a murderer, and you’re a trashy bitch.”

  “She was not amazing,” Maria seethes, struggling to keep her voice low. “She was a slut, the popular girl who no one was good enough for. She thought she could get everyone, thought she had it all, but I showed her, and now because of you, I’ve lost everything. Without Lucien, the girls at the country club won’t even look at me. I’m a social outcast because of your actions.”