Savages: A Reverse Harem Bully Romance (Pawns of Patience Book 3)

by Cassie James

  “I know a lot of things,” she says quietly, glancing around like she’s worried someone might eavesdrop. “But the one thing I know that you really ought to know—you’re being played.”

  “What?”

  “I wonder if he really underestimated you, or if he just got distracted having a tight, young body in front of him.” She gives me a calculated perusal that makes me uncomfortable enough that I cross my arms over my chest.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I ask.

  “Brock Forrester is trying to distract you. I’m sure he thought if he told you I knew something that you’d start creeping around looking for answers. He probably never imagined you’d have the balls to come straight to the source.” She shakes her head and clicks her tongue. I’m starting to believe at least one thing Brock said. Cece was putting on an act. The way she’s talking now? She’s not ditzy or clueless, she’s just throwing everyone for a loop. Just like she seems so proud of me for doing. “I’ll admit, I was guilty of underestimating you, myself.”

  What she’s saying is a lot to unpack. But why would Brock go through all that trouble just to send me on a wild goose-chase?

  “What would he be trying to distract me from?”

  “Haven’t you realized it yet, Juliet? He wants what everyone wants—Hollis Lexington’s treasure.” She rolls her eyes as if the whole thing is overrated and she’s tired of talking about it. “Most of them, they’re using their kids to get to you, but Brock? His son’s not the brightest or most interesting bulb in the pack. He probably figures it’s easier just to do the dirty work himself.”

  Brock Forrester told me he didn’t believe in the hype about Hollis’ treasure. I repeat the words aloud to Cece. She laughs in disbelief as she looks down her nose at me.

  “And you actually believed him?”

  I try to remember exactly what Brock’s words were that first night I met him. “It’s like our own personal urban legend. Nearly everyone in this damned town has tried their hand at Hollis’ treasure hunt.” He said something else, too. “Some people are more obsessed than others.”

  I thought he was being cavalier because he genuinely didn’t care, but was that an act? I’ve already seen for myself that I’m not great at judging the intentions of people around here. If I’d been better at it, I probably would have spent a hell of a lot less time being hurt over the past year. So, what if he wasn’t being cavalier because he didn’t care? What if he was being cavalier because he did? What if he thought acting that way might cause me to slip up and say something I shouldn’t?

  There are too many what ifs. Like what if Cece is the one lying, and not Brock? I really have no way of knowing.

  Except Cece has nothing to gain from lying, and it sounds like maybe Brock does.

  “Are we done talking about you now?” Cece asks. “Because I’ve just been dying to tell someone how it’s going in here.”

  “Sure, of course. Go ahead.” I’m not so sure I want to know, but I’m not exactly sure I want to be rude to someone who literally killed another person. Besides, she’s still human. Still capable of feeling lonely—and maybe I shouldn’t, but I catch myself sympathizing with that a little bit.

  Cece clasps her hands together in front of her face as her eyes light up. “I’m the fucking queen of this place.” If she was being quiet and discreet before, she’s the opposite now. Speaking up and reveling in the way it makes other people glance over at us. Based on the way her fellow detainees quickly look away, I don’t think she’s joking. She lowers her voice again. “I’ve done a lot of shit in here, Juliet, but it’s not so different from the outside. If you make yourself indispensable, you can float to the top. And it’s better here, really, because there’s no Kathryns or Juliets here to compete with.” She glances at the girl at the table next to us. “Only Jessicas and Ashleys with sad backstories and bad haircuts.”

  I don’t even bother to point out that I grew up as a Jessica with a sad backstory—and I had more than my fair share of bad haircuts over the years. In different circumstances, it easily could have been me she was talking about.

  “See this?” She turns her arm over to show me a long, thick, fresh scar running up the inside of her arm. “Patience girls use their words to hurt you and try to steal your crown. But here, these girls fight it out. I’ve got a few of these battle scars. But every time, I come out on top. Here, I’m the one being underestimated. They think Patience girls can’t fight, but I grew up with older brothers. I can hold my own.” She looks so proud as she tells me all of this, but it makes me feel sorry for her. She’s in here because she was willing to hurt someone to be on top, and now she’s here doing the same shit on a smaller scale.

  “It sounds to me like being the queen isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

  Her eyes go wide with horror. “No, it is! Being queen isn’t just everything, it’s the only thing. Have you ever played Chess, Juliet?”

  “I mean, a little bit over the years, but nothing serious. Why?” Where is she going with this?

  She drags her finger across the table like she’s drawing out a chess board. She points to a spot on the far side, closest to me. “The queen has all the power. She might be the last to get involved in things, but she’s always the true center of the game.” She traces a path forward to the invisible row on the front of my side of the imaginary board. “And then there are the pawns. Do you know what pawns get?”

  I hate that this is sort of making sense so far. “What?”

  “Pawns get killed.”

  She flattens her hand and smacks the table so hard I practically feel my bones rattle as I startle right out of my seat. As the guards start to head our way, she throws her head back and laughs.

  “Visit’s over,” one of the guards tells me gruffly as Cece just keeps laughing. The sound of it is haunting, the kind of laugh someone gets when they’re no longer in possession of anything resembling sanity. It’s a symbol of just how far Cece has fallen.

  The sound of that laugh follows me all the way out—out of the room, into the car, and all the way back to Patience.

  Chapter Seventeen

  After my bewildering visit to Cece, I go seeking out the one person I can always count on for easy comfort. Horses greet me at the pasture fence as I park my car up by the house, pulling over to the side of the garage like I was told. I slide out and go to meet the horses at the fence, cooing at them as I pet them down the length of their long faces. There’s four of them, but three of them wander off when they realize I’ve got nothing to feed them. Only the littlest one stays, so I give her my full attention. And that’s where Ace finds me still standing several minutes later.

  “I should have known I’d find you out here. I’m starting to think you like the horses more than me.” He wraps his arms around me from behind and I let my eyes close as I relax against him.

  “Well, there is a lot of them and only one of you,” I tease. He pinches my side, eliciting a giggle out of me.

  “You’re lucky I love you,” he says, dropping a kiss on my shoulder. The words make me melt. “Let’s get you inside, though. It’s about to rain.” I look up at the sky, noticing the dark clouds rolling in for the first time. That seems all too fitting.

  We make it into the house just in time to miss the start of a downpour. Ace starts to lead me into the front living room, but he pauses on the threshold. “Hey,” he greets someone. I peek around him to see a tall woman stretched across the couch, her head laying in a guy’s lap.

  The woman catches sight of me and bolts up. She smacks the guy on the chest. “Babe, look. Asher finally brought a girl home.” She says it in a sing-song voice, obviously teasing him.

  “Whit,” Ace growls, his cheeks tinged pink.

  She laughs and stands up, stretching out as my eyes go wide at the sight of her full height. She’s definitely got to be related. She’s nearly as tall as Ace is. I have to tilt my head up as she comes over to greet me, offering me her hand—also eno
rmous.

  “Hi,” she says. “I’m Whitley. Asher’s favorite sister.”

  “Only sister,” he points out, shaking his head when she waves him off.

  “What’d you do, Asher? Go and get a girlfriend and not tell us?” She reaches out and ruffles his hair. I start to get a weird feeling. Smith and Patrick’s families both know about me more or less, but his sister seems genuinely surprised by my presence. Has he really not told them anything? I glance at him, waiting for him to answer. I think I’m as curious to hear his answer as Whitley is.

  Ace is silent for an uncomfortably long moment before he says, “Just mind your own business, Whit.” Okay, great. That’s about the worst thing he could have said right now. I could understand not wanting his family to know maybe the exact details of our relationship, but refusing to answer outright is like next level bad. My heart feels like it’s sinking down into the pit of my own stomach.

  Whitley’s eyes narrow. “I’m sorry, what’s your name?” she asks, looking at me again as she ignores Ace’s warning. I hadn’t even realized I hadn’t given it.

  “Juliet,” I tell her with a polite smile.

  I regret it almost immediately when her eyes shoot to Ace, something not so happy flaring in them. “Is this a joke?” she asks him. “Dad’s gonna freak out, Asher.”

  Great. This is getting better by the second. Not only is Ace not owning up to our relationship, but he’s not owning up to our relationship because his dad isn’t gonna approve. I’ve never had a parent blatantly not approve of me.

  Ace looks over at me with an apology written all over his face, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. “It’s not personal, J.” It feels pretty damn personal.

  “It’s because you’re a Lexington,” Whitley supplies, saying my last name with disdain. “Dad’s convinced your grandfather was blackmailing him, and that his hidden treasure has something to do with it. He wants your so-called family treasure to stay buried, but you showing up here after all this time renewed everyone’s interest in finding it.”

  None of that is my fault, I want to point out, but I stay silent. I don’t want to get in the middle of it. I’ve barely made it in the front door and I’m basically being told that I’m not wanted here. I had no idea Ace’s dad had issues with my family. He never mentioned it.

  Something in the back of my mind waves flashing lights at me. He’s never mentioned there being an issue between our families, but there was something. Last year, he was the one I asked about the family feud between the Lexingtons and the Harringtons. But if I’m remembering correctly, he got all weird and tense like he thought I was going to ask about something else. This is it. It has to be. If I’d been paying more attention, I might have realized earlier that there was an issue. But then all that shit went down between Ace and me where we didn’t talk for months. So I’d forgotten all about it.

  “I should go,” I say quietly, flicking my eyes to Ace.

  “Please don’t. I want you here.” He gives me big, sad puppy dog eyes.

  I can see Whitley watching him, seeing the way he’s looking at me. She seems to soften back to how she was when we first walked in. “Asher’s right,” she says. “You should stay. Dad’s not here anyway, and honestly the whole thing is stupid.” Beside me, Ace breathes out a soft sigh of relief. He seems a little surprised that she’s siding with him.

  “If it helps, I’m pretty sure someone would have found whatever the treasure is by now if Hollis had really left anything behind. It’s not like Lexington Estate is under lock and key.” Just lack week, one of Pearl’s nurses called the cops because she saw someone prowling around outside when she was on her break. More and more, I’m really starting to believe that maybe Hollis really did only leave behind an unsolvable mystery.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Whitley nods, but I can see in her eyes that she’s not actually convinced. In any case, the tension from before is gone.

  Whitley introduces me to her husband and explains that they’re just visiting to check out a couple horses Ace’s dad is going to sell them. Ace’s mentioned before that his sister lives down south on a farm of her own. We all talk for several minutes before Ace excuses us to be alone.

  “I’m so fucking sorry about that,” he murmurs as he tugs me through the house. Since his sister’s in the informal living room, he pulls me into a more formal one at the back of the house. I look around, confused about the setup here. Ace notices and explains, “When Dad’s got business, he directs people to come in through the back.” He points out a door that leads directly outside. “Before my mom ditched us to start a new family in a new country—” he makes a face— “She always complained about mud being tracked into the house. So, this was the solution and it’s been this way ever since.”

  I hate to hear Ace talk about his mom, not that he does it often. I’m not sure how any woman could abandon their three kids and start a new family with someone else like they never existed. Then again, my mother tried to sell me to a man in the mob, so I know all about dysfunctional family life.

  “Am I never gonna be able to meet your dad, Ace?” I’ve always thought of meeting people’s families a normal part of dating. And even though there isn’t much about my dating scenario that is normal, there’s still a sense of tradition that I thought I would get to keep.

  He runs a hand over his face. “I want you to meet my dad. Of course I do, J. I’m just… not quite sure how to broach the topic yet.” He steps towards me, sliding his arms around my waist and kissing me softly. “But I will. I promise. And it’ll be okay, my dad might have a lot of opinions about your family, but he’s a good guy. He’ll be able to look past it.”

  I have to believe he’s right. He knows his dad better than I do.

  “Now,” Ace changes the subject, “I really, really don’t want to talk about my family anymore.”

  His voice is huskier as his eyelids start to droop. This isn’t why I’m here, but dammit now it’s all I can think about. I tilt my chin up so he can kiss me more fully, wanting that more than anything. He indulges me, going right from zero to sixty as he parts his lips, mine automatically following suit. And I’m not sure why this has become our new favorite habit, but all of a sudden he’s pushing me back against the bookshelf lining the back wall. I loop my arms around his neck as he lifts me, my legs wrapping around him naturally.

  I can feel the ridges on the spines of the books digging into my back but it doesn’t stop me from moaning into Ace’s mouth as I feel him hardening against me. The longer we kiss, the harder he gets, until I can practically feel his body pulsing towards mine, begging for this to go further. My body arching against him as it begs for the exact same thing.

  Grudgingly, I break the kiss, knowing if I don’t stop now I’m not going to be able to stop at all. He stops kissing me, but he doesn’t let me go. Our kiss might have been hot, but just letting him hold me is something altogether different. It’s sweet—even with his dick still pressed against me in the most suggestive possible way. Not that I’m complaining. There’s nothing sexier than having that concrete evidence of how much he wants me. I’m just still not convinced we’re ready. Admittedly, I still have my worries that he hasn’t properly worked through what Celia did to him.

  “I love you,” I tell him softly, leaning in to kiss only the corner of his mouth. I’m not looking to start either of us back up again.

  “I love you, too, J.”

  He kisses me one more time—also on just the corner of the mouth—before setting me down. Then, he offers me a seat on the couch next to him. I lean into him as we sit facing the window overlooking more pastures. It’s insane the size of this property. Their land could basically be its own little town.

  When I’m ready, I tell him all about what happened with Cece. And then, because I have to fill in some gaps, I go back and tell him about all my interactions with Brock Forrester, too. When I’m finished, he grimaces as he seems to really choose his words carefully.

 
“As much as I hate to agree with Cece, I think Forrester fed you some serious bullshit. His kid used to talk so much shit when we were younger about finding your treasure. He had to have picked that up from somewhere. The rest of us, we didn’t really talk openly about Hollis’ whole treasure thing. It was something people mostly talked about just at home because everyone’s parents were so obsessed. Even now, since you showed up, it’s something people whisper about amongst themselves.”

  He squints for a second, looking off into the distance like he’s trying to remember something. “I’m actually pretty sure he got the police called on him a few times in middle school for refusing to leave the property when Pearl caught him trespassing.”

  “Ugh.” I can’t believe I got played.

  Frustrated, I let my head fall against the back of the couch, twisting my neck sideways as I stare aimlessly towards the bookshelves. I have no idea how or why, but my eyes catch on a book and suddenly I can’t shake this weird feeling. I stand up, cross the room, and take the book from the shelf without saying a word. I open the front cover and there it is.

  It is not down on any map; true places never are.

  “What are you doing?” Ace asks curiously, walking over to see what I’m looking at.

  I close the book carefully, not wanting to draw any attention to what’s on the inside. Considering he doesn’t mention the inscription, I’m pretty sure he either doesn’t know about it, or at least doesn’t realize it means anything. I don’t like keeping secrets, but the significance of this book feels like something I’m not ready to talk about with Ace. Not until I know what it actually means.

  “Moby Dick?” He gives me a confused smile. “What? Are you a fan?”

  “Yeah, actually. Would you mind if maybe I borrowed this?” I’m trying to sound casual, like it’s no big deal.