Wrecked_A Novel

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Wrecked_A Novel Page 4

by Shana Vanterpool


  Begged me.

  Oh, this was good.

  As it was, I wouldn’t take Tula out of there. She was my inside eyes into my deep, deep, deep, deep, dark, dark, dark, dark… obsession. She thought she was being a good girl and biding her time until she could have what she wanted, me. But she was really my little Grecian spy.

  “I’ll think about it,” I lied. “If you do something for me.”

  “Of course, you can’t just be a good guy. Your black soul might actually be a color for once.”

  “My soul is actually a very dark shade of charcoal, thank you very much.”

  She pursed her lips, and something glimmered in her gaze. Something upset her. She rolled her eyes at herself and the glimmer turned to a sheen of tears. “Never mind. What was I thinking asking you for anything?” She turned to leave.

  My hand shot out and grabbed her upper arm so fast it even startled me. I pulled her back to me. “What’s wrong?”

  She looked at something over my shoulder and her face immediately closed off. Snapped shut on her emotions. She was the Hallie everyone knew. Poised, reserved. Sweet, touchable.

  When she was so much more than any of them would ever be.

  I looked to find an audience. Fucking great. The gossip pigs were going to have a field day with this. By lunch time, Hallie and I would be married with twins and I’ll have already divorced her for the pool boy.

  “Not here,” she said, her tone tight and eyes speaking to me.

  “Then I’ll walk you to class and you can tell me why you look like someone pissed on your Star Star.” I gripped her arm tighter and pulled her along with me.

  She blanched. “How do you know about Star Star?”

  Because I’m a creepy little bastard and used to spy on her through her webcam. I grinned to myself, catching the attention of Trudy Lowell. She glared openly at my hand on Hallie. Shit. She was delusional, which made her the worst kind of villain. Money didn’t make you intelligent. If you had enough, it made you smart enough to realize what you could do with it. But for some, it made you lazy.

  “Wreck,” Hallie repeated carefully, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and irritation. She tore her arm free of my grasp. “How do you know about Star Star?”

  Hallie loved stars. She even had a star charm on her Tiffany bracelet right now.

  “You told me about him.”

  “Him?” She looked seriously ill. “I so did not tell you about Star—” She looked around and lowered her voice. “About my childhood toy.”

  “You don’t remember?” I gave her a disbelieving look. Truth was, she talked to that stupid stuffed star almost every night. Telling it her feelings, about her day, about her pain, her worries. I knew Hallie, because that little stuffed yellow star did. And I spent hours watching her, but that was a minor detail in a much, much larger picture, of course. Stay on track. “Whatever happened to it?” Better question was why she insisted on buying a desktop and getting rid of her laptop and webcam.

  Her face was pale. “I don’t know. I don’t remember telling you about him. We never really talk, Wreck.” She scratched her cheek in thought.

  “What do you think happened to him?”

  “I don’t know. He just disappeared when I was fifteen. Illa swears she didn’t touch him. I always thought father threw him away.”

  “With Tula working for you now, I bet Illa isn’t needed as much, right? Is that what’s upsetting you?” Of course, that’s what’s upsetting her. I hadn’t thought about that part. I knew she had a close relationship with the housekeeper. I didn’t need Star Star to know that. When I was a kid, I’d watch her at parties clinging to Illa until her father paraded her around like a trophy he didn’t earn.

  No one earned Hallie. She was her own person. Her own prize.

  My defeat.

  She looked away, but not before I caught the small break in her armor.

  Without Illa, there was no one left for her to run to. To confide in.

  To love.

  And that brought me an intense, consuming rush of twisted glee.

  I struck her softest part with my sword, drawing little blood. There were no signs I’d attacked. “I’m having a party tonight at my place. The team’s celebrating Kellen getting captain. You want to come? Hang out?”

  “Kellen?” she picked out. “He got captain over you?” She shot me a snobby grin. “Good for him. Sure, I guess. What time?”

  Whelp, I thought, I have to kill him now.

  “Wreck?”

  I blinked away the blanket of rage burning in my body. “What?” I growled.

  She frowned, touching my arm. “What’s wrong? You look purple.”

  I shoved her touch off. Keep your shit together. I swallowed the searing lump and tried to breathe through the fire. “You and him hookin’ up or something?”

  She was still frowning, which meant I was still puce. I started swallowing hard. I couldn’t fucking breathe. Overhead, the late bell rang. She was talking to me. “Wreck? What’s wrong?”

  I don’t know, I thought desperately. Her face was close to mine. I could smell the faint hint of toothpaste on her sweet breath. I lurched forward and grabbed her up by her shoulders, ignoring my growing audience. I had so much on the tip of my tongue, but nothing came out but: “You wouldn’t dare. You wouldn’t fucking dare!” I screamed into her beautiful face.

  My roar was enough to shatter my enraged bubble. I released her and turned into the crowd, shoving everyone in my way out of it. I didn’t worry about my mask, about my armor.

  I wasn’t in the mood to fight my father’s battle right now.

  I had one of my own.

  Once free of the bodies, I managed to get my keys into my “modest” Mercedes-Benz G-Class. Father didn’t want me throwing my wealth around, so he bought me this. I slammed my door and took off, speeding away from campus and toward the highest point of the canyon.

  I wanted to drive over the edge.

  Crash at the bottom and never come back.

  Fire.

  Exploding.

  My father wouldn’t give a damn. Mom would just buy a new son. Hallie would probably smile at my burnt body.

  Run away with Kellen.

  Fucking bastard.

  I drove faster, taking the turns so quickly my front-end bit into the rock. I kept going, straightening the wheel. Going higher, higher, touching the top of this cage.

  I could see the end coming. The edge of Sparrow Cliff. I closed my eyes and took my hands off the wheel.

  But my foot smashed on the breaks at the last minute.

  My heart collapsed in my chest. My eyes snapped opened.

  Dust swirled around me. I didn’t know if I’d make it.

  Didn’t know if I cared.

  5. SLICK, WET, AND SWEATY

  Hallie

  Mrs. Crose gave me a crick in my neck.

  She looked like she was in a foreign language cartoon where the characters moved animatedly but to understand you had to watch them and simultaneously read the French subtitles and doing both somehow made her entire act muddled.

  Or maybe it was the insane amount of nervous energy in me that morning. Wreck’s performance replayed itself in my head. What was that? My arms still hurt where he’d gripped, and my brain was trying to piece together the sheer amount of desperate terror in his eyes. At least that’s what it looked like to me.

  Frankly, the entire exchange was out of left field. There was no way he could know about Star Star. None. I’d never told anyone about him. Illa bought him for me when I was a baby and he’d been my companion through my life. The only person I could tell everything to. He knew my soul and didn’t mind a thing about it.

  But he was mine. I would have remembered telling Wreckmond about him. I could have been drunk, I guessed, but I could count the number of parties I’d been to on one finger, and the only time I’d been drunk was with Tristan. He’d challenged me to a shot of my father’s good scotch, and soon, we’d taken four eac
h, and then we were drunk kissing. Sloppy and giggling. I smiled sadly at the memory.

  Breaking the rules had felt so much more awakening with him around.

  For each rule I broke, I found a part of myself I hadn’t known I lost. Like a trail of breadcrumbs, I found me.

  But my father didn’t want me to know who I was. He wanted me to be who he needed me to be. He crushed my crumbs. Strewn them in the only place I’d never get them. In the sky, with the stars. Displaced pieces of my soul, never whole, never as bright as we could be whole.

  I shoved the hollowness inside of me aside. At lunch, I did something I never did. I went to the cafeteria. I typically left campus and ate at my favorite bistro, but the Charming Knights always ate in the cafeteria. They commandeered the left corner. All male testosterone and muscles. The junior varsity team was there too. Sixty handsome eligible football players.

  Hormones, I coached. Don’t panic. Eyes off the muscles and everything should be fine.

  I scoured the crowd for Wreck, looking for his tall body or listening for his sarcastic laugh. When I didn’t spot him at the tables, I looked to the food court. Giving up, I put on a brave face and went over to the group. I spotted Ryder Storm eating a chicken salad. We had biology freshman year together and I knew he was the most unresponsive guy around. Didn’t talk, but his dark eyes said so much. He was frighteningly gorgeous. Pale face, hard features, pronounced lips, wayward hair the color of ice. I’d have preferred Kellen, but he didn’t appear to be there either.

  I walked over and touched Storm’s shoulder. He looked up sharply, eyes glittering with anger. When he saw that it was me, however, he looked perplexed.

  “Hi, Ryder.”

  He simply stared, cucumber on his fork.

  “Do you know where Wreck is?”

  He continued to stare.

  I smacked his shoulder. He came to life. Sort of.

  “No.”

  “Is he here?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Well, have you seen him?”

  “No.”

  “Ryder,” I warned. “I’ll smack you again.” I lifted my hand in warning.

  “Call him.”

  “I don’t have his number.”

  For some reason, he smirked. “You want it?”

  I glared at him, but nodded, pulling out my phone. He mumbled is number and then returned to his salad.

  I sat beside him with my back to the table and dialed it after putting Wreck’s name in my contacts. His phone rang four times before it went to voicemail. You have reached, “Wreck,” came his deep voice. Please leave a message at the tone. I was highly aware of Ryder eating silently beside me.

  “Wreck, I don’t know what that was this morning, but you can’t just freak out and take off and then not answer my calls. Call me back.” I recited my number and then there was an awkward pause before I continued. “This is Hallie by the way.” I hung up.

  “Your friend is aptly named.” I put my phone in my bag and sat back, staring out at the cafeteria. A few curious gazes caught mine. I ignored them. Out of all my eighteen years, I’d never had a problem with anyone. No gossip, no bullying, nothing. I wanted to cause a little trouble, but my upbringing denied me the taste of chaos, and my father made sure of it from every angle. “I must say, Ryder. This was one of the most titillating conversations I’ve ever had.”

  He rewarded me with a bored stare.

  I patted his shoulder and took off, heading out to the parking lot to search for Wreck there. After coming up empty, I gave up. I went to my favorite spot and ate my favorite meal and tried to push this morning from my mind. When I made it back to campus, my time in the shadows was over. People looked at me in a different light. Not so much avoidance—that was still there—but more curiosity and a whole lot of glee.

  They loved it. Ate my gossip up like the hounds they were. I almost wanted to give them more of it. To ruffle my feathers and lift my shirt, flash the school with my barely there’s and kick at my cage.

  “Move,” I snapped, when Trudy Lowell and her gang stood in front of my locker.

  She looked me up and down. Then her disregarding gaze met mine. “What’s up, Hallie?”

  There was only one reason for her presence and attitude. Wreck. I could play along. I was best at this game. “Hey, Trudy. Love your shoes.” Truth was, I did. I had a mild obsession with the damn things, and I hated myself every single time I walked past High Drive in downtown Charmant. The shopping district was my Achilles’ heel. “Valentino?”

  “Mhm. Wreck bought them for me.” There was an undercurrent in her voice.

  I found that odd, and frankly, unbelievable. Wreck was a player. He was never with one girl for long. The Charming Knights had their pick of women, why would Wreckmond buy Trudy Valentino sandals? She wanted to see my reaction. She’d never get it. “Oh, that’s so nice of him.” I smiled sweetly. “I think I’ll go buy myself a pair,” I added, slamming my locker and taking off.

  This city would never see me sweat.

  I was trapped, but I was still me inside of my gold bars.

  But they weren’t seeing my cage right now. They were seeing me with a Wreckmond; they loved every single lie they could fabricate. Even Professor Seneca gave me a look when I sat down for trig. Most of my classes were technical. Father instilled numbers in me, money, growth—he never encouraged anything else. I’d tried taking art freshman year and the next day the art teacher was fired and replaced with an advanced business class. I never took art again. Never tried to find the magic in numbers.

  There wasn’t any.

  When class was over, I waited for everyone to filter out like I always did. Professor Seneca wiped the board and glanced over his shoulder. “Is it true?” he asked.

  “What?” I was depressed how quickly rumors spread. Where was the chance to prove oneself? To defend the untruth’s around them? It didn’t seem fair to walk into a lie and not be able to fight your way out.

  “You know what.” He walked over and peeked outside, and then closed the door, lowering his voice. “You’re an impressive soul, Miss Goodford. I give you slack, but you give it right back. If you link up with Mr. Wreckmond, you’re going to end up exactly where you don’t want to be.”

  In seconds, I was near tears. For all his denials, Professor Seneca still had the strength to test his barriers. I smiled sadly. “It’s all rumors, Professor.”

  “In four years, I have never heard a rumor about you. Not a one. Now I hear the worst one. Not because of gossip, not because of that, but because you’re supposed to fight back.”

  I shook my head, a pressure burning in the back of my eyes. My life felt far less mine these days. Not having a choice was starting to make me wish I had the strength to break free and make them. But father would just break my wings, he’d starve me back into submission. “You said it yourself. Resenting this life won’t make me any less a part of it.” I got up and put my bag over my shoulder. “I’ll email my homework in tomorrow morning, is that okay?” I usually sent it in on Friday evening, but I felt this pressure to go to the party and find Wreck.

  He put a hand on my shoulder. “You’ll make smart choices, won’t you?”

  He sounded so somber it made me laugh. “Nothing’s happened, I promise.”

  But his eyes told me that he didn’t believe me. “Not yet, Miss Goodford. Not yet.”

  On my way out to my car, Geoff and Ryder were coming back into the school with their gym bags. They ignored me like they usually do, but no one else was ignoring me today, which made me think it was intentional. Football practice. Wreck’s got to be there. I waited for them to get inside of the school before I took off for the south parking lot. I followed the stone walkway and spotted the verdant football field in the distance, heat shimmers dancing by the goal posts. I took my tablet out and settled on the bleachers, opening my email to check my homework assignments.

  I put my feet up and started working on my operations and quality management p
aper. 15,000 words on business strategy and competitiveness. My choice of operations.

  My brain secretly begged for magic.

  I was outlining when I heard a whistle in the distance. The senior varsity football team came out of the locker room, some dressed in gear, some shirtless. My thighs squeezed together instantly at the sight of all those shirtless six-packs. The sun shone down on their tanned, rippled skin. One body in particular had my teeth digging into my bottom lip. The guy was wearing a helmet, so I couldn’t tell who it was. His six-pack was honest. Not forced, just natural lean muscle. He was already sweating. The sweat shone on his abs like condensation. Slick, wet, and sweaty. I swallowed hard and caught the defined V’s of his abdomen leading down to his blue and gold Charming Knights gym shorts. The school’s logo was on his right thigh, a knight with his shield and sword. His arms were long and taut. Biceps for days, large hands, shins hard with muscle.

  He ripped his helmet off and dropped his bag down by the team bleachers, letting his sweaty hair loose. My heart seized.

  Wreck.

  And though it should have turned me off, knowing who he was had made him hotter. His hair was sweaty and messy, and he looked pissed even from all the way over here.

  “Run four miles!” the coach ordered, whistling again. “When you’re done, we’ll start suicide drills. Kellen, you lead. If you fall back, the whole team adds a mile for every lap you miss.”

  Kellen was shirtless too. And though I wanted to enjoy him, Wreck’s stupid body ruined it for me. He took off on his own for the track beside the field. I lost him in his laps. He kept up with Kellen effortlessly, never going faster than his captain. Obviously, a jab at Kellen. I watched Kellen pump his legs harder, trying to keep the lead. Wreck increased his stride, tall and long, where Kellen was muscled and bulky.

  I could practically feel their animosity from here. They left the rest of the team in the dust, running against the other. Wreck never got ahead of him, giving Kellen the power to win, because in doing so, Kellen was losing for every second he tried to beat Wreck.

 

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