Hidden River Deception (Hidden River Academy Book 4)

by KT Strange

  Hidden River Deception

  Book 5 in the Hidden River Academy Series

  KT Strange

  Copyright © 2019 by KT Strange

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover by CJ Strange.

  Heartcandies Publishing

  Heartcandies.com

  To those sweet people who reach out to their friends when they’re down, this one is for you.

  Contents

  Stay in touch!

  1. Mia

  2. Mia

  3. Cael

  4. Mia

  5. Mia

  6. Mia

  7. Mia

  8. Mia

  9. Mia

  10. Shawn

  11. Shawn

  12. Shawn

  13. Mia

  14. Buck

  15. Mia

  16. Mia

  17. Mia

  Acknowledgments

  Stay in touch!

  About the Author

  Stay in touch!

  KT’s Newsletter

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  1

  Mia

  What have you done, Mia?

  The stars spilled across the night sky, a scattering of hopes and dreams that I couldn’t reach or touch. The house behind me was dark, and I was alone in the quiet, staring upward at the heavens and wondering how I could turn back time.

  Go back, and fix things. Stand up to Brandt. Tell my mother no. Let my uncle know of the requests for money. My silence had come at a price, and that was Colt and Shawn’s futures, things that now hung suspended from the thinnest of threads.

  My eyes burned, and I blinked back the tears. I didn’t deserve to cry. I’d done this, and I needed to live in it, breathe through it.

  Sometimes we make mistakes, doing what we think is right in the moment, because we’re trying to be tough, stand on our own, right? It would be okay if I’d been the one to take the fall, to have the world crash down at my feet.

  But it wasn’t me, was it? I wasn’t the one wearing the consequences. The universe wasn’t asking for it’s pound of flesh from me.

  Cael had driven me home, after the cops had left, insisting that it would only make a scene if I showed up at the cop shop. I hated the boys for getting me out of the way, but Buck had pointed out that Shawn and Colt would probably double down on their stories if I was there, out of a desire to protect me from harm.

  At that point I was willing to do whatever it took to make things better. And I didn’t trust myself to make the right decision. My track record wasn’t exactly spotless, more like dragged through the mud and crap of my own insecurities and idiocy.

  My knees tucked up under my chin, my hair loose down my back, I stared up at the stars and wished they would talk to me. I felt like they had all the secrets of the universe tied between them, and if anything, anyone, could tell me what to do next, it was the heaven above us that saw everything that passed down below.

  The sky was quiet though, only a soft breeze that tugged at my nightshirt as it spilled around my waist and puddled on the wooden porch of my uncle’s house.

  My house. I had to remember that this was my place too, even if just for now. Thinking of myself as an outsider, always, forever, had gotten me into this mess, had wrecked things for Colt, had forced Shawn to do a last-ditch attempt at saving him.

  I closed my eyes.

  Why? Why had Shawn done it? That single question haunted me, hovering in the back of my mind like an itch I couldn’t get at, a shiver I couldn’t shake.

  It’s not like he and Colt were especially close. They weren’t. Colt wasn’t on the football team, that sort of nebulous thing that seemed to bind most of the school together, he was a scholarship student from the same kind of background as me. He didn’t fit. In fact, Colt made it his life’s work to not fit. He stood out, bad attitude and smirk on his face all the time, letting everyone at Hidden River know that he didn’t care how much money their daddies had, because that didn’t matter to him. As a consequence everyone left him alone.

  Like the opposite of what they’d done to me. I swallowed hard. It was obvious, in front my face the whole time. Of course he’d played the tough guy, willing to throw down at anyone who looked at him funny. Of course. It was the thing that kept him safe. His own personal armor was his reputation, and so he took every opportunity to reinforce it. The only time he’d unfolded, exposed himself, shown his vulnerable underbelly… was for me.

  To hold me. To love me. To protect me.

  Fuck.

  My thumb came up and I was wiping away tears I didn’t know I’d shed. I should have never put Colt in the position of thieving. I needed to make it right. It was my turn to protect him, to shelter that fragile human he was underneath all the layers of hurt and spit and vinegar.

  The stars were blurry, milky at the edges, as I cried openly and silently. My lips parted, the only noise my slow and uneven breath as I exhaled the pain of my mistakes. And in that moment, I promised Colt, quietly, that I would do whatever it took to fix how I’d wronged him and myself.

  Life is painful, but it’s easier if you learn from your bad ideas. I was done with doing some fresh new version of the same past mistakes. The pain of staying the same far outweighed the pain, and uncertainty, of changing.

  I needed to suck the poison out, starting from the beginning. Getting to my feet, my whole body ached. My uncle was still out, obviously in a pow wow with Shawn’s parents after his confession. I could have called Cael, but…

  I guess part of me was ashamed of what I’d done, even if it had been with the best of intentions. It’s why I kicked off in the dark, my phone the only light as I started walking down the long road to the house that started it all. Whatever my reasons, I was seriously regretting not taking Cael up on his offer for a new bike (yet). That would be my first priority once all of the stuff with the police and the school got sorted.

  For now there was one person I needed to talk to that I was close enough to, that also knew Shawn well enough to give me clarity and absolution.

  Because one thing I needed? Absolution. I was ready to fall down on my knees.

  The woods were dark, closing in on me from all around, but I held my head high and tried not to give in to my fear of the dark. Colt, Shawn? They’d broken themselves to save me. The least I could do was walk twenty minutes in the dark for them.

  2

  Mia

  The mansion was lit up from the outside, splashes of colored lights on the walls, because of course. Rich people didn’t just want a fancy house. It was no good to spend five million on some brick behemoth when no one could see how good it looked at night, right?

  The lights glowed in the windows, bright against the dark of the evening.

  I
should’ve texted. Sometimes I seriously acted like I forgot I even had a phone. But part of me was afraid to, scared of what he’d have to say.

  It was my fault Shawn was where he was. Even if he’d hurt me, he didn’t deserve to be put in a position where he felt he had no choice but to get himself in trouble. I tried to take deep, calming breaths as I walked up the long drive. The front entrance was intimidating, and with a trembling hand, I knocked on the door.

  It seemed like a bad idea to to ring the bell that late at night.

  I waited in the silence of the evening, feeling the darkness pressing in on me from behind. The walk had been uncomfortable, all my senses on high alert, and it’d taken me way longer than I expected to. I was grateful my phone hadn’t buzzed or beeped once, because I’d probably have jumped out of my own skin. I didn’t think too hard about why my phone was silent, because there was a good chance that everyone was either giving me space to process or they were all shit-mad at me.

  The sound of the lock clicking made my heart thump, and I stepped back as the door opened. An older man stood there, his graying hair slicked back from his face. He wore a pristine, tailored suit.

  “Miss Quinn,” he said, even though I’d never met him before in my life. “Please, come in.” He held out his hand, standing to the side. “No coat?” He asked, kindness in his eyes. I tugged my sweater tight around me. It’d been chilly, but I was fine, really. He squinted into the darkness past my shoulder. “Forgive my intrusion, but did you walk here?”

  “I, uh,-”

  “Mia,” Buck didn’t sound surprised that I’d shown up. I glanced up. He was descending a large, curving staircase, the light of a glowing chandelier making his dark hair gleam with highlights of deep chestnut red. He wore it pulled into a man-bun, instead of loose and long, and his pectorals threatened the structural integrity of a thread-worn tank top. It was rude that he looked so good, even his old sweatpants that seemed to cling to his-

  I cleared my throat and jerked my eyes upward, to his face.

  The butler… the butler? The butler closed the door behind me, and excused himself, butling off to do whatever it was people like him did. I made a note to ask Buck about it later, when things were less serious, more calm, and he wasn’t wearing that distracting wife-beater. Seriously. It was rude.

  Buck stopped a few feet away from me, his hands clenching for a moment like he wanted to hug me but wasn’t letting himself. His expression was unsure.

  “Is Shawn going to be okay?” My voice broke as the words tumbled out of me, because that’s all I could really ask. I wasn’t worried about Colt, because Shawn had done what it took to make things right, but…

  Buck sighed and gave a swooping nod, before holding out his hand. I reached for it, and he tugged me in for a quick, close hug. I buried my nose where the wide strap of his tank met the neckline, and inhaled the soft, warm scent of his body. It felt wrong taking comfort from him when things were still difficult between us, but I needed it.

  “I’m sorry,” was all he said. His hand stroked up my back and I shivered, his fingers like a request as they dragged through the knit of my sweater, pressing into my skin. My stomach dropped, heavy and weak.

  “What does that mean?” I asked as I pulled away. His lips were a thin, white line in his face, and he glanced to the side, sighing.

  “It means I wanna answer your questions, but first I want to…” His gaze swung back to me, his hand lifting up. His thumb dragged over my lower lip. “I don’t deserve this,” he said, bending down, his eyes shutting.

  He kissed me. I let him, standing there, before pressing up into it, kissing him back, my lower lip sliding between his as heat blushed into my cheeks. Everything was fucked up, mostly because of me, and I hadn’t forgiven Buck yet, but I needed…

  I needed the comfort, and the warmth. I needed things to be normal. My whole life had unfurled, spinning out of control. The train was off the tracks, and maybe I was weak but-

  “None of us deserve you,” he murmured, the want in his voice making my stomach tremble. His eyes were barely open, the dark blue of them hidden in the shadow of his lashes.

  “Colt does,” I said, pulling away and trying not to pay attention to the blush on my face he had to be noticing. Buck watched me with a careful expression on his face.

  “Yeah, he does,” he agreed. “It’s just the rest of us that are dogs.” He looked around and then sighed. “Are you hungry?” He took my hand, his fingers tender around my wrist. My heart ached, the craving to be touched and held almost overwhelming.

  “How can you be hungry, especially right now?” I asked, following him as he led me down a long, arched hall. Chandeliers, dripping crystals that would probably pay some fast-food worker’s wages for a year, lit the walls. The floor was a pure white marble, veined Everything screamed ‘HOLY FUCK WE HAVE A LOT OF MONEY, WHAT TO DO WITH IT? LETS JUST BUY OUT FIVE SWAROVSKI CRYSTAL STORES, DEAR!’ everywhere I looked. My time at Buck’s place had been solely in his bachelor pad upstairs, and I’d never been in the main part of the house.

  It was intimidating.

  “I’m always fucking hungry,” he said, heat lit in his eyes as he tossed a look over his shoulder at me. The way his gaze elevator-slid down my body said that it wasn’t just food he was hungry for.

  “And hungry for fucking?” I asked wrly. He snorted, pausing at the arched doorway. Beyond him opened up a kitchen, it’s counters shiny-clean gray marble, soaring ceilings that dripped with more crystal lights. A large, black ceramic apron-front sink sat waiting to receive dirty dishes, and the far wall had a giant fridge in it, the stainless steel gleaming.

  “Who taught you to talk like that?” He asked.

  “Who do you think?” I challenged. He shook his head and stepped into the kitchen, holding his hand out to me to take. I curved my fingers around his and followed him.

  “Colt’s got a smack coming to him.”

  “I think he’d say the same about you,” I replied. Buck grunted and walked to the fridge, his arm flexing dangerously when he opened it.

  “I deserve that and more,” he said, surveying the contents of the fridge. Neatly labeled glass containers were stacked inside, glimmering with colorful prepared food waiting to be eaten. My stomach rumbled. Maybe I was a little hungry. For food. Not boys.

  It was pretty damn clear I needed to take an immediate and urgently required break from doing the do with guys. It was just getting me into trouble. At least until I got my head sorted out, and figured out how to make things right for Colt and Shawn.

  “You like raspberry balls?” Buck asked and my head jerked up in surprise. My mind took an immediately dirty turn down a dark lonely forest road filled with… dick.

  “Um, what?”

  Buck was cracking open a glass container, the plastic lid hitting the counter with a clatter. He pulled out a sphere that was vaguely pinky-red, it’s surface dusky and studded with what looked like bits of nut.

  “It’s like a dessert thing for people who hate sugar, or want to hate sugar. Like my mom,” he said, holding out the thing to me. I took it gingerly. The fragrant scent rose up to greet me, and made my mouth water. Whatever it was, it smelled freaking delicious. I bit into it, my eyes narrowed as Buck watched me with amusement bending the corners of his mouth.

  An explosion of flavor blossomed on my tongue, and the sweet treat crumbled in my hand. I fought to get the rest into my mouth without being a complete hot mess.

  From the way Buck’s nose was wrinkling, his chest stuttering with aborted laughter, I was failing.

  “It’s amazing, but you suck,” I said around the mouthful, swallowing it down. It tasted like raspberries, and a hint of chocolate, and the meaty, thick taste of ground up nuts. Like Valentine’s and Easter rolled up into one treat, somehow.

  “Have another. They’re high in protein, but whatever, I think we need it right now,” he said as he pawed through the fridge. More glass containers joined the one with the raspberry balls,
which did not in any way actually resemble (in taste or feel) a set of actual testicles, something for which I was grateful.

  That concept was a little too Hostel for me.

  “Since when are you counting calories?” I asked. Back home, with my uncle, Buck’d plowed through food like he was half-starved all the time. If it wasn’t nailed down, or covered in mold, he was eating it. He’d even eaten something that was moldy, some blue cheese, which I thought was disgusting because the scent stuck to the back of my throat for hours. I’d refused to kiss him for the rest of the night when he’d done that.

  I paused, my fingers resting on the edge of the counter, a smile gracing my face.

  We had memories together. We’d built something together. Sure that pathway was littered with a bunch of stupidity and… hurt, but still. It was nice to have memories with someone. Did I have any hope of building memories with any of the other guys? Would that be a thing?

  Buck bumped my shoulder with his, a gentle expression on his face.

  “C’mon, eat up.”

  I eyed his offerings. Flat bread, sliced pickled beats, goats cheese, cold grilled peppers, hummus… foods that had been thoughtfully prepared in advance and not poured out of box. My mouth watered again.

  “Don’t we need to talk?”

  “I can’t think over the sound of my stomach,” he said, slathering hummus on a piece of flat bread, fingers working deftly as he put together a wrap for himself. I followed his example, unsure about the beets, but they were so colorful I couldn’t not try them.