Payback Princess (Lost Daughter of a Serial Killer Book 2)

by C. M. Stunich

  “I want to go; I want to see it for myself,” I say, but he looks down at me like I’m a crazy person.

  “How do you propose getting out of this house and back without Tess realizing you’ve left?” he asks dryly, giving Maxx a look next. The two of them turn back to me. “I mean, you’ve seen her, right? She can be sort of … insane. Especially now. And with good reason, honestly.”

  I nibble on my thumbnail for a second, but I already know that Chasm’s right.

  “You deal with your dad,” Maxx says, voice confident and self-assured, like he’s the leader of our little group. “And I’ll track Delphine when she leaves today. I have to work at the barcade tonight anyway.” He looks around briefly, considering the possibility of more cameras, ones that we don’t know about. But we have to have somewhere in this house to talk; it’s worth the risk. “Do you think the Slayer might’ve collected any extra cameras he had around here in preparation for the police search? He had to know they’d go over this house with a fine-tooth comb. They would’ve used a fancy-ass bug detector for sure.”

  “Let’s hope so,” I say, happy to have some sort of plan in place—and also wondering if we might be able to get hold of a bug detector. I’ll have to research that and see if it’s feasible. “Shall we start with our classwork? Get that out of the way first. Then you two can take off, and I can keep looking into the key situation. Also.” I pick up Tess’ book again and tap my knuckles against it. “I’m going to go over this. On Tuesday, we can head over to Mr. Volli’s house after school for a quick look. Don’t forget that Monday is Memorial Day.”

  It’s highly unlikely that Parrish is there. Or that there are any clues at all, for that matter.

  The Slayer seems to want me to find Parrish, but he isn’t making it easy.

  “Japanese first,” Chasm instructs, pressing a kiss to the side of my head that has me flushing from head to toe. It’s one thing to do these sorts of things alone, in the dark. It’s a whole other ballgame to do it during the day with X’s sharp gaze on us. “He warned you not to fail your classes, didn’t he? I have a feeling we wouldn’t enjoy the consequences if you did.”

  I nod, scooting to the edge of the bed and then heading into the hall before crossing into Parrish’s bedroom. There aren’t any new messages, no missed video chats. My stomach twists into knots imagining what might happen tomorrow.

  Whatever it is, I don’t think a single one of us is going to like it.

  Focusing on our studies for a bit helps all three of us, I think. It lends a sense of normalcy to the situation, and it also serves to please Tess when she pops into the dining room to observe us. She comes by about every fifteen minutes which is far more frequent than usual. If I’d thought her hourly check-ins were annoying, this is next level.

  Of course, Chasm is right.

  She has good reason to be afraid.

  Her son was literally stolen out from under her in the middle of the night. What she doesn’t know is that her stolen daughter, the one she’s just recently gotten back, was also taken in the middle of the night. I just happened to have been brought back.

  Maxx is the first to go, glancing up from the table as he notices Delphine preparing to leave for the day.

  “Shit, I’m late for my shift at the barcade,” he grumbles, his acting skills on point. He shoves up quickly from his seat, leaving his laptop where it is, his phone beside it. I’m guessing he’s going to leave it here, just in case. Which means we won’t be able to check in with each other until he gets back.

  “What time will you be home?” I ask, as if this is his home anymore than it is mine or Chasm’s. Somehow though, it feels more like home with them in it than it did before. The only missing piece is, of course, Parrish.

  “Last call is two-thirty,” he says, pausing beside me. Maxx sat on my left for the majority of the day while Chas sat on my right, at the head of the table. He’s a taskmaster, that’s for damn sure. He didn’t let me slack for even a second.

  Not even after making love to me last night.

  My cheeks heat—my boobs, too, but luckily, I’m wearing a pullover sweater with a black cat on it and a Hocus Pocus quote—and Maxx cocks a brow.

  “Probably around three or so,” he finishes, and then he sweeps past me, pausing briefly to tousle my hair. Not sure how I feel about that for so many reasons. Chasm, too, seems to notice, glancing over his shoulder as Maxx heads for the garage.

  Delphine rides a bike to work every morning, so it shouldn’t be hard for him to follow her.

  Chas and I both wait until they’re gone before turning back to each other.

  “You want to sneak upstairs and fuck real quick?” he whispers as he leans in toward me. I just stare at him.

  “Are you insane?” I whisper back, but I know I’m blushing even harder than I was before. “With Tess coming in to stare at us every fifteen minutes?”

  “We don’t have to do it in your room,” he suggests, glancing over his shoulder. There’s nobody in the kitchen or living room right now. Just us. Kimber is holed up in her bedroom; Tess is working on details for the press conference; Paul has been tasked with keeping the little ones entertained.

  Just after we moved our study session downstairs—at Tess’ insistence, mind you—I heard Amelia wailing, crying for her ‘Pear-Pear’. The sound of her pained cries hit me so hard that I had to slip into the bathroom and cry myself out for a few minutes.

  “We could get in the pool,” he starts, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms behind his head as he looks me over. I do the same, returning his stare, studying the beautiful almond shape of his eyes, the rare golden color, the pink fullness of his mouth. The black studs on either side of his lip add just enough edge. With the colored hair, the plugs in his ears, and the tattoos, there’s just enough gritty to balance out all his prettiness. Also, he has like perfect skin. Fucking perfect. I’m jealous. “I’m just trying to give this all I’ve got, Little Sister. It isn’t my fault that we have to operate under a certain someone’s rules.”

  “Don’t call me Little Sister anymore,” I whisper back at him, flicking his iPad’s stylus across the table toward him. He catches it with one hand and then brings it up to his mouth, chewing on the end while he watches me. He’s making light of this, but I know what he means.

  I’ll give you until Sunday to impress me.

  That was a crystal clear message if I’ve ever seen one.

  “Mianhae,” he says with a bit of a laugh. I know for sure that one means I’m sorry. At least, I think it does. I really have no idea what I’ve been saying when I keep meaning to say good night. Chasm keeps saying it back to me, so it must be at least somewhat relevant. “Should I say naekkeo instead? I like it, but there’s not much ring. Little Sister flows off the tongue.” He leans in toward me, putting his palms flat on the table. “Besides, it helps ground me.”

  He sits back up, tapping the stylus against one of his lip studs.

  My body aches when I look at him, even as I’m swamped with guilt.

  “You’re doing it again,” Chas warns me, pointing at me with the stylus. “You’re drowning in your own thoughts. Stop it. Stop thinking about how pissed off he’s going to be with us and think more about how we can get him back here so that he can be pissed off at us.”

  “It feels like you’re just trying to get me into bed,” I whisper back, and Chasm offers up a naughty smirk in response.

  “What can I say? I’m addicted now. Apparently, I’m as much of a manwhore as I always pretended to be.” He puts a hand to his chest, and even though his expression is cocky, it’s tainted with heavy melancholy. “I’m not trying to pressure you,” he adds, face softening slightly. “If you don’t—”

  “But I do,” I breathe, pushing my iPad away from me. When I close my eyes, I can see the shapes of the Japanese alphabet, the hiragana and katakana swirling around with a handful of basic kanji thrown in. I’ll ace this last final, that’s for sure. Then he can teach me Kore
an, and he won’t be able to have special, secret conversations with Parrish anymore.

  My throat gets tight again, but I toss lime-green hair over my shoulder with a nonchalant flick of the wrist.

  “I do. If we’d just, like, hooked up on our own, before all of this, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of you.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I full on cringe, looking askance at Maxx’s laptop. At his phone lying on the table beside it. On my Tess-phone resting next to my elbow. My Maxine-phone hidden in the pocket of my sweats. “Shit.”

  “Fuck,” Chasm agrees, and then he’s standing up from his chair and tossing his stylus onto the table. “Now we sort of have to do this.” He gives me a look and another half-smile. “I’ll go get changed. Choose your bathing suit wisely.”

  He disappears out of the dining room and up the stairs as I struggle internally and then curse my big, fat mouth, leaving the rest of the devices behind and taking only my phone along for the ride.

  As soon as I get into my room, I close the door and lean my back against it. I shut my eyes for a second in an attempt to wrangle my emotions. Having sex with Chasm might fulfill an order, but it doesn’t bring us any closer to Parrish.

  I can’t do it.

  Not right now.

  I open my door and head across the hall, not bothering to knock before I open Parrish’s door and slip inside. Chasm has just dropped his pants and underwear to the floor. I turn around to catch a nice, long glimpse of his naked body.

  It’s still light outside, so there’s plenty to see by as I gape at him, my eyes tracing the ink on his chest and arms, his legs, his feet. His cock is … well, it’s very big, and very well-shaped, and very distracting.

  “Couldn’t wait that long?” he offers up, like it’s a joke. But then our eyes meet, and there’s nothing at all funny about this. My hand reaches back to push the lock on the doorknob in, and I find myself crossing the room like I’m trapped in a hazy spell, one crafted of lust and need and the aching burn of guilt.

  My arms twine around Chasm’s neck while his hands find my waist.

  He crushes his libidinious lips against mine, sweeping his tongue into my mouth and gathering me close. His hot fingers knead my hips, digging into my pelvic bone and making me moan in a low, husky voice.

  We start to move toward the bed together when it occurs to me that this is Parrish’s room. His bed. The bed where we both lost our virginities to one another. I can’t do that to him. I won’t.

  “Chasm,” I start, pulling back slightly. Just in time, actually, for the sound of a clicking lock to slam into my skull like a knife. I whirl around, but it’s too late. The door is swinging inward and there’s Kimber.

  Fucking Kimber.

  Kimber, who already hates me. Kimber, who’s in love with Chasm. Kimber, who can very easily contribute to the living hell my life at Whitehall has become.

  “Oh my god,” she chokes out, her eyes on Chasm’s dick rather than my face. He very quickly snatches his black joggers from the floor, yanking them on as Kimber’s raven-black eyes swing my way. “You.”

  Her accusation reminds me once again of Parrish, that first night when I confronted him in the living room.

  “How dare you?” she snarls at me, using the doorjamb to rise to her feet. “How fucking dare you?!”

  She surprises me by flying into the room, a maelstrom of nails and cursing.

  Chasm intercepts her. Actually, he flings her right over his shoulder before moving over to the door and heeling it closed. He sets Kimber down in front of him and then grabs her by the shoulders, bending down to look into her eyes.

  “I need you to calm the hell down, Kim,” he says as she sniffles, tears running down her face. Her teeth are gritted, jaw clenched, hands squeezed into tight fists. She flicks her gaze away from Chasm and over to me.

  “So you’re just another one of his easy fucks, huh?” Kimber throws out, but her words hit me and bounce right off. I know Chasm better than that now. Better than her, too, apparently. I try to remind myself that she’s only fourteen, that she’s hurting, missing Parrish. Let her say whatever she needs to say.

  “Knock that shit off,” Chasm snaps, and Kimber flicks her gaze back to him, pain brimming in her eyes. “You know better than that. You’ve been a bitch to Dakota since moment one.”

  “Like you and Parrish haven’t!” she shouts back at him, flinging her arm out to indicate me. “You both bullied her, too. Don’t act like you’ve forgotten.”

  “Of course I haven’t forgotten. I was … I didn’t listen to myself, Kimber. I got swept up in Whitehall’s bullshit the way everyone else does. Come on, you’re better than this.”

  “Parrish is probably dead, and here you guys are, fucking in his room. It’s disgusting.” She directs her glare at Chasm this time, rage burning in her eyes. I can see the embers from here, ire that’s just waiting to be fanned into monstrous, roaring flame. “You’re both pathetic.”

  “Listen to me,” Chasm says, reaching out to grab her arm. Even though she just saw me kissing him while he was butt-ass naked, she blushes a bit at the contact. A tiny spark of jealousy fires in me, but I clamp down on it. There’s no need for it here. “Nobody wants Parrish back more than we do. Nobody.”

  “Whatever,” Kimber says, yanking her arm from his. “You two deserve each other.”

  “You’re like a baby sister to me,” Chasm explains, trying to get her to look at him again. We both know what’ll happen if she tells Tess what she just saw. “There was never going to be anything between us, whether Dakota was around or not.”

  Kimber turns one, last look on me, and I see it in her face: it doesn’t matter what Chasm fucking says, I am dead to her. Dead.

  I’ve lost one sister already this week and even though Kimber and I have yet to find any common ground, I hate this. I hate it so damn much.

  “Don’t worry,” she says with a saccharine smile, reaching up to push some of that pretty blond hair back. “I won’t tell Tess.” Kimber bats her lashes at me and then shoves Chasm aside before storming out the door. He watches her go and then closes it again, giving me a nervous look in response.

  ‘This is gonna be bad,” he says, grinding his teeth for a minute. “Mostly for you. Goddamn it.”

  “It’s alright,” I promise him, yanking on the ends of my hair until my scalp stings. “What’s one more person trying to kill me?”

  The joke is dry, and it’s not particularly funny, but Chasm laughs anyway. It’s not a nice laugh. Actually, it’s a very, very dark laugh.

  “Kimber might be a freshman, but she’s a Whitehall student, Little Sister. I’m going to have to watch your ass even more closely than I’m doing now—and not just on campus. Here, too. Be careful with her. She’s a much bigger threat than you’d think. Everyone at Whitehall wants to impress a Vanguard. They’ll go to crazy lengths to accomplish that.”

  “I’ll be careful,” I promise him, but I hate to see that one of my greatest fears is coming true. Kimber lives here under this roof with me. That gives her ample opportunity to fuck with my life in a way none of the other students at WHPA can. Damn, damn, damn. Fuck.

  I look back at Chasm, but even though he’s shirtless and gorgeous and everything I’ve ever wanted in a lover, I can’t give into him. Even more so now that Kimber’s on the warpath. The Slayer can clearly see that we’re into each other, that we’re not holding back.

  I’m sure he’ll just love the idea of Kimber hating on me.

  One of his primary objectives seems to be to drive me away from everyone that I care about.

  I hate how easily it’s worked thus far. Maxine. Danyella. Lumen. Tess. Kimber. Even Parrish might not want to be around me when he finds out that I screwed his best friend. I won’t be able to blame him either.

  “Fuck, I guess I’ll go to my dad’s,” Chasm starts, moving back over to me. He takes a moment to thread his fingers in my hair, kissing me with such deep, mournful longing that my knees go weak, and I end
up grabbing onto the waistband of his pants to keep myself standing upright. “I’ll have my phone so … you know, call me if anything goes down before I get there. Otherwise, I’ll be the one calling you.”

  I nod and release him reluctantly. Our hands touch, and our fingers stay tangled until the last possible second. I let my hand fall by my side before I step into the hallway and close the door behind me.

  I’m already waiting on my bed, legs crossed, phone in my lap, when Chasm calls. I answer immediately, relieved to see his smirking face on the opposite side of the screen.

  “Okay, so,” he says, panning the phone around so that I can see the room he’s standing in. With beige stucco walls, heavy dark wood shelves, and a slate floor, it’s quite clear that Chasm’s wine cellar is not the wine cellar at all. “It’s definitely not what we’re looking for.”

  “Definitely not,” I agree, bringing my thumbnail to my lips and nibbling on it. “No hidden doors, right? Anyplace to put a skeleton key?”

  He says no to me in Korean. At least, I think he’s saying no.

  “Negative,” he repeats in English. “You’ll be pleased to hear that one, my dad isn’t home so I’m not about to get my ass busted. And two, he hasn’t mentioned the lake house to me at all.” He stares at me through the screen for a minute before snagging a bottle of wine and tucking it under his arm. “We deserve this,” he adds, leaving the wine cellar and locking the door behind him.

  “I’m relieved that it isn’t your dad’s wine cellar, but I’m also disappointed. We have nothing, Chas. Nothing at all.”

  He pauses in the hallway, setting the wine bottle down on a side table for a second. The sheer size and luxury of the house behind him blows my mind, even having lived with the Vanguards all this time. I’m aware that Parrish’s grandmother is, supposedly, one of the wealthiest people in the entire country. And that Paul is her only son. So, assuming neither Laverne nor Paul blow the inheritance, it’ll eventually become Parrish’s.