by Kent, Rina
The fact that I’m starting to be invested in him creeps me out of my skin.
While a psycho, Aiden is a human being, and I can’t help wondering why he does everything he does.
Everyone has a motive, don’t they? No matter how much I’ve tried to shove Aiden into the black category, I’m only fooling myself.
I crawl into my bed, play Power by Bastille, and check my phone.
Kim sent me a message saying she’ll be driving her baby brother and therefore she won’t be able to pick me up tomorrow.
She sends a cute picture of Kirian clinging to her leg. Although Kim is a brunette, her brother has the most golden blonde hair.
Kim: Babysitting. Save me.
Elsa: *heart emoji* I’ll have that cute little elf.
We chat for a while before I head to Instagram. On RES’s official page, I find a picture of me taken by the school’s photography club. They had a perfect shot while I ran in practice. It’s from behind, but my name and the school’s logo are clear.
The tag reads. Great minds in excellent bodies.
RES has changed their policies over the years. Now, they’re constantly promoting that they’re not only about academics, but also sports.
Right after my picture, I find another one with more comments and likes. It’s about the football team, so no surprise there.
The photography club managed to snag a perfect shot of Aiden during practice when he was about to shoot and score. One of his hands flings back in symmetry with his left foot like he’s about to take flight.
It could be because he’s a leftie, but that posture is too… unearthly. Damn that perfect, aesthetic posture.
I zoom in to erase everyone in the pitch except for him.
After a few seconds of staring like a creep, I exit Instagram altogether and cover my head in exasperation.
I’m turning into something I hate because of the bastard.
My phone dings, and I lunge for it expecting it to be Kim.
Aiden.
Wait. Aiden?
Of course. He had my phone for a whole day after all. If he can crack the code, he can save his number.
I’m tempted to toss my phone and crack it to pieces, but curiosity gets the better of me.
I swipe the screen to read the text.
Aiden: Asleep?
I contemplate sending him a ‘fuck you’, but decide to ignore him instead. I seriously don’t know what he’s thinking by texting me.
It’s not like we’re old friends or even acquaintances.
Another text comes in.
Aiden: I’m not.
Obviously.
My phone dings again.
Aiden: I’m picturing you naked, screaming my name while I pound into your tight little pussy.
A tingle warms its way down my body and between my legs.
Aiden: If you don’t reply, I’ll keep telling you about my fantasies.
I purse my lips. He won’t get to me.
Aiden: I’m thinking about your pouty lips around my dick as I face-fuck you while you stare up at me with teary blue eyes.
The explicit image draws a shudder from my spine.
Aiden: I miss your full tits and how perfectly they fit in my palms. Are your nipples sore?
My nipples harden against the soft cloth of my PJ’s and I cross an arm around them as if he can see them.
Aiden: I know you’re not asleep, sweetheart. Last chance. You’ll regret it if you don’t reply.
When I remain silent, he sends another one.
Aiden: As you wish.
He stops sending texts. I wait for five minutes, but nothing comes out. My hands tremble as I put the phone on the nightstand.
Why did he stop texting?
Nope. I’m not allowing him to get under my skin.
In the morning, I wake up with my hand between my legs.
Again.
Shit.
I don’t usually remember my dreams, but I recall glimpses of this one. Dark grey eyes. Tears in my eyes and something thick in my mouth.
I take the longest, coldest shower I ever had and stumble downstairs.
“... maybe she’s remembering.”
I halt near the corner of the stairs at Aunt Blair’s worried voice.
“You’re overthinking.” Uncle’s sounds muffled due to something he must be eating.
So he did come home last night.
“Maybe we should try Dr Khan’s recommendations.” My aunt again. “She’ll be eighteen soon.”
Dr Khan’s recommendations?
And what does my age have to do with anything?
Dread lodges at the pit of my stomach. I don’t like where this conversation is going.
“Stop overthinking, Blair.” Uncle scolds. “I’ll go see if she’s up. She’ll be late for school.”
Aunt mumbles something, but I don’t hear it. I make a deliberate sound of my feet flapping against the floor as I round the corner with a big smile on my face. “Morning!”
I kiss Uncle on the cheek and let Aunt kiss mine. I drop my backpack on the chair and dig into the jam and butter. Special jam without much sugar and special non-animal butter.
My life is based on healthy food.
Appetite escapes me, but I force down tiny bites. If Aunt Blair notices I’m not eating, she’ll freak.
“Is Kim late?” Aunt asks.
“No, she has to pick up Kir this morning. I’ll take a taxi.”
“Nonsense. I’ll drive you, pumpkin,” Uncle says.
“No. You drive recklessly.” Aunt smiles. “I will.”
The bell rings. Must be Mrs Robinson next door. She loves baking and giving her muffins to neighbours. Although Aunt doesn’t let me eat them.
I take the chance to distract Aunt from my barely eaten sandwich. “I’ll open!”
Uncle gives me a look. “I will do it. Finish your breakfast, pumpkin.”
Busted.
“Why don’t you wear your hair down?” Aunt asks, smoothing my ponytail.
I take a sip of the orange juice. “It’s a hassle.”
Truth is, I never liked my hair down.
“Pumpkin?” Uncle’s voice sounds bemused as he appears at the threshold. “A friend came for you.”
“A friend?” Did Kim change her mind?
But then again, Uncle Jaxon doesn’t call Kim a ‘friend’.
My friend appears and I choke on the orange juice.
Aiden fucking King is standing in our dining room.
Chapter Twelve
I don’t believe in extraterrestrial beings but at the moment, I would rather have an alien standing in my dining room instead of Aiden fucking King.
I’m too stunned to react. The toast is suspended mid-air with my jaw almost dropping to the floor.
Aiden saunters to the middle of my dining room with confident, nonchalant steps.
People feel awkward — or at least reserved — when entering a place for the first time.
Not Aiden.
His gleaming eyes fix mine with so much ease like all this is an everyday occurrence.
The school’s jacket stretches over his defined shoulder muscles giving him an older edge than his eighteen years. His inky hair is slicked back to perfection and he’s even wearing the tie, today. His pressed trousers and elegant, designer shoes complete his shiny appearance.
Aiden only looked this way at the end of the year ceremony when he had to give speeches. He doesn’t dress to impress, but today, he most definitely is.
It’s a subtle reminder that he’s not only a student at RES but also the future heir of the school.
He’s not only Aiden, but he’s also Aiden King.
The air turns stuffier and tighter with his presence.
I’m shocked, Uncle appears confused and Aunt grips the glass of orange juice so tight, her knuckles turn white. She stares at Aiden as if she’s seeing a ghost.
Uncle clears his throat. “I didn’t know Elsa had other friends aside from Kim.”
Way to go, Uncle. Might as well tell him that this family exists because their biggest contractor is King Enterprises.
Aiden pouts — the bastard actually pouts — and stalks towards me. “I’m hurt, sweetheart. I didn’t know you were hiding me from your parents.”
In a few subtle words, he made Aunt and Uncle believe we’re in a relationship. He said it so casually, no one would peg him as a liar.
Those aliens might as well kidnap me in their spaceships and throw me on their planets.
Uncle’s brows furrow and Aunt stares at me hard. Something twists in my chest. It feels as if I betrayed her.
“It’s not like that,” I whisper past the lump in my throat, but Aunt doesn’t seem to be hearing me.
“You didn’t tell us you knew Aiden, pumpkin,” Uncle says in a more cheerful tone.
“It’s my fault.” Aiden faces my uncle with the most sincere, solemn expression I have seen on him. Even his accent becomes posher. “Due to your company’s contract with my father’s company, Elsa was worried about implicating our parents. I respect her wishes, but I also want to show her off as my girl.”
Elsa?
My girl?
Am I in a freaking nightmare right now?
I want to shove his perfect face in a sink full of water and hold him there until no more breaths come out.
My chest squeezes at the image.
It’s so familiar and… disturbing.
My widened eyes snap back to Aiden.
Subconsciously, people are ashamed about lying and their brains express that in the form of tells. A rub of the nape. A twitch of the eye. A twist of the lips.
Not Aiden.
He feels none of that shame and therefore, his lies come out in a smooth, intricate web.
If the relaxation of Uncleʼs shoulders is any sign, he believes him.
“Is that true?” Aunt Blair faces me, still gripping the orange juice glass tight.
“It’s…” My hands ball into fists in my lap, but before I can continue, Aiden is by my side.
He touches my cheek with his knuckles, and they heat like a pit of flames.
Damn him. How can he touch me in front of Aunt and Uncle?
“See? I told you not to worry last night. Didn’t you say Mr and Mrs Quinn are open-minded and will always back your decisions?” He places a subtle hand on my shoulder as he turns his attention to Aunt and Uncle. “I heard a lot about your work ethics from my father. I’m happy to find out that your familial ethics are just as excellent.”
Knock Out.
Complete knockout.
I don’t even have a case anymore.
Aiden didn’t only make them think that our ‘relationship’ is in the closet because I respected and loved them, but he also brought up their work.
Their God.
The reason both of them breathe.
Even I don’t compare. Quinn Engineering is their biological child and I’m the adopted child. They love me, but I always come second.
How did Aiden know that?
How far did he dig to come up with this bit of information?
Uncle’s easy smile makes an appearance. “Mr King talks about us?”
“All the time, Sir. Your recent project had been the talk of the last BOD’s meeting. King Enterprises can only move forward with strong assets like Quinn Engineering. Some would argue that small companies mean nothing in the great scheme of things, but it’s small companies that fuel the production and build the pyramid to the top. King Enterprises was also a small company at one point.”
Perfect posh accent.
Perfect manners.
Perfect everything.
“Indeed, son.” Uncle’s chest puffs. “King Enterprises has a bright future with you as an heir.”
He’s calling him Son.
Fucking Son.
But then again, it shouldn’t be a surprise that Uncle is impressed. He always loathed how big companies looked down their noses at smaller ones, but here is an heir of the biggest company of all telling him exactly what he believes in.
“I can only try, Sir. Iʼm only at the beginning of the path, but I hope to work as hard as you and everyone else.”
I know they’re rehearsed words that he must’ve said a thousand times before, but with the sincerity mask he’s wearing, even I am close to being fooled.
Aiden is a parasite.
No.
He’s the devil who can flow in someone’s bloodstream and tell him exactly what he likes to hear without appearing sleazy or an obvious manipulator.
But before you know it, he’d be telling you what to do and how to do it.
By then, you’d have no control over your actions.
“You didn’t have to hide it from us, pumpkin.” Uncle beams at me, already under Aiden’s spell. “We’re not that strict with you, are we?”
If I begin screaming right now that Aiden is lying and that we should burn and bury his corpse in the back garden, Aunt and Uncle will probably take me back to Dr Khan and ask him to admit me to that hospital I hated when I was a kid.
“That’s because Elsie never had a boyfriend.” Aunt is softening, too, but unlike Uncle, something is holding her back.
Aiden raises one perfect eyebrow at the needless information Aunt just shared.
His lips move in a tiny smirk only meant for me as he squeezes my shoulder hard. I suppress a wince. He quickly masks his sadism to resume his perfect disguise. “I’m honoured to be her first.”
Aunt touches her collarbone, a habit she does whenever she’s uncertain. “We’ll talk about this, Elsa. For now, you should go to school.”
She packs my sandwich in a container and places it in my backpack.
“Come on.” Aiden clutches me by the arm like a doting boyfriend. “We’ll be late.”
While I’m thinking about ways to get away with murder, Aiden offers Aunt and Uncle his golden boy smile.
“It was nice to finally meet you, Mr and Mrs Quinn.”
“Please, call us Jaxon and Blair, Son.” Uncle glances at me. “Make sure to bring him over.”
Over my dead body.
“I’ll certainly visit.” One more blinding smile. “Elsa tells me you’re an Arsenal fan.”
“Why, indeed. A gunner at heart.”
“Me, too. In fact, it runs in the family. My cousin, Levi King, plays for the team. The president is my father’s old friend. If you want to attend a game, let me know and I’ll get you a special pass.”
Uncle might as well have been star struck. “That would be brilliant. Go, Gunners.”
“Go, Gunners,” Aiden fist-bumps him.
Uncle is the one to usher us out. I’m contemplating running upstairs to my room, hit rewind and pretend this morning never happened.
Or better yet, I’ll wait for Aiden at the door with an axe.
He parked his car in front of the house. A bright red Ferrari. Of course. An arsehole like him would drive a fast Italian car.
Aunt remains at the threshold of the house. Her folded arms and unreadable expression are the complete opposite of Uncle’s enthusiasm.
Aiden guides me to the passenger seat with his hand on the small of my back. I try not to squirm in the black leather seats and hold my backpack close to my chest like a shield.
Once we’re seated, Aiden throws one last pleasantry at Uncle before he hits the button. The engine’s strong vibrations startle me and I grip the backpack tighter.
The car revs in the wide streets. I suppress a gasp at the strength of this thing. I can’t even help clenching my thighs together.
“You like the power, sweetheart?” Aiden watches me intently as I fight the strange rush of excitement.
All the thrill fades away when I recall that I’m riding with the devil. “Pull over.”
“We’re not there yet.”
I face him with an incredulous look. “You really think I’d let you drive me to school?”
“I told you yesterday that you’d re
gret ignoring me.”
“You honestly believe I would reply to your crude texts?”
He lifts a shoulder. “But for future reference, I dislike being ignored.”
“I don’t care about what you dislike, Aiden.” My voice rises.
The stunt he just pulled and Aunt’s disappointed face makes me sick to my stomach.
“You should or…” He reaches over and clutches my hand in his. “I will continue dropping in unannounced and make your adoptive parents fall in love with me.” He lifts my hand to his lips and brushes a kiss to my knuckles.
To an outsider, the gesture would look gentle, almost chaste. But this is Aiden fucking King. The malice in his eyes twists me in knots.
“The look on your face when I stepped into your house was priceless, sweetheart. I should’ve caught it on camera.”
I jerk my hand free. My automatic reaction would be to scream and make him drop me off, but things don’t roll that way with Aiden.
He gets off on anger and strong emotions. Since I’m almost sure he’s a psycho, and therefore lacks feelings, he uses them to antagonise others.
If I give into his trap, I’ll never find a way out.
I just saw first hand how he manipulated Aunt and Uncle, who’ve known me for my entire life, into thinking I was hiding a love affair from them.
The only way to escape his intricate manipulation web is to be level-headed.
I square my shoulders as I face him. My voice is calm. “I don’t know what your obsession is with me, but it’s not going to work.”
He squints an eye. “Let me worry about that, sweetheart.”
“Iʼm not your sweetheart, Aiden. I’m just a girl you bully and I hate to say this, but I prefer the days you had your minions bully me over this unwanted attention. I don’t want you anywhere near me or my family. It’s one more year and everyone will go their own way, so let’s pretend these last couple of days never happened.”
“Pretending was never my thing.”
“Oh, please. You just pulled off a Broadway-level performance about how much you care about me when we both know you don’t.”
“I do care about you, sweetheart. Maybe not in the conventional term, but I never stopped caring about you. It’s becoming tiresome and fucking irritating.” His dark eyes shoot a path into my soul. “The time has come to do something about it.”