by J Bree
As I lift my juice to my lips, I see a flash of regret pass over her face. I've never seen that sort of human emotion out of her before, and it makes me feel another pang of sympathy for her. We were both born into cages. Mine was poverty, drugs, the threat of gangs and violence. Hers is a gilded cage, but the bars work just the same. She's trapped by her blood and her name. I wonder, not for the first time, what her parents are like. Are they as beautiful as their children? Are they loyal and caring like the twins, or did Joey come by his cruelty honestly? I should really take a closer look into them, maybe get Matteo to dig around for me.
“For the record, none of this is because of what you did to Harley. It’s not an eye for an eye anymore. If you stay here, Joey will kill you. He likes to break things. You're not shattering the way he likes; you're proving to be too strong. He doesn't let strong things survive.” She's warning me. What has she put in place, what will I have to survive this time? I swallow.
“It's okay. I'll survive it. Whatever it is you’ve done, and then I'll survive your brother, too. I have no choice but to survive.”
She nods sharply and bumps Blaise to get him moving. He's not happy. He's watched our entire exchange with that frown on his face, and I do something entirely out of left field.
I smile at him.
Just a tiny, sad lifting of the corners of my lips, but he stares at me with heartbreak in those stunning green eyes of his.
He's in on whatever she's done, and he's torn about it. He had probably convinced himself to help because I was a stalker fan in their eyes, and then I'd gotten that higher mark.
The last thing I remember thinking is that he wears heartbreak so fucking well.
And then my mind knows nothing.
Chapter Eighteen
The blackout is so overwhelming that I have no memory of what happened that night.
I ate dinner with Avery and Blaise, and then I’m waking up in one of the seniors’ bathrooms. I only know that for sure because I’d accidentally used it on my first day and had been bitched out by one of Joey’s flunkies. The large, ornate mirrors are a dead giveaway. The door is locked from the inside, so I know I’ve done that myself, and I’m freezing. My whole body is shivering uncontrollably. It may be the temperature, or it could be the aftereffects of whatever it is Avery drugged me with.
I swear under my breath at my own idiocy. It must have been slipped in the juice. I’d forgotten the number-one rule of being around these assholes: never accept a drink from them.
I push myself up to stand on my shaking legs and look in the large mirror. I still have all my clothes on, which is a relief, and my bag is on the floor by the door but there’s vomit all down my shirt and splattered on my legs. My hair is a mess and there are deep, black circles under my eyes. I can’t see any new bruises or scratches, and I hope that Avery’s moral code includes making sure I wasn’t assaulted while I was out of it. I look as though I’ve been out drinking all night, and I’m sure that’s the end game here. Underage drinking by paying students is frowned upon and will result in a warning, but I’m held to a different standard here at Hannaford. I’ll lose my scholarship if I’m caught and breathalyzed.
I pull my phone out of my bag and thank whatever guiding hand led me to this bathroom while I was out of it. I take a deep breath before hitting call. I know Matteo has the resources to help me. How else had he gotten me out of breaking Harlow’s nose? He answers right away, and I don’t even bother with pleasantries, I just dive right into an explanation of what has happened. He listens intently.
“It’s bad, Matteo. I’m going to get kicked out if you can’t help me.”
“Maybe you should come home, kid.” His cool tones do nothing to soothe my nerves.
“Fuck that. I’m not going to get run out of this place by spoiled rich kids. Please, just… help me.”
He sighs at me, like I’m being unreasonable. I know he’s getting pissed at me for not just leveling the damn building and being done with it, but if I have to, I can start calling in favors.
“Give me ten minutes.”
I hang up and slump down on the wall again. The vomit on my shirt is still wet, it’s cold, and the smell is truly horrendous. I can’t wait for a hot shower and my bed. Fuck these rich dicks. I wipe down my shirt and my legs as best I can to clear away the vomit. Tacos have now been ruined for me forever. Thanks, Avery. I stare at the wall and I must zone out, because when my phone pings again, it makes me jump.
All sorted. Just walk back to your room. Call me if you need anything else. M.
I exhale and open the door. There are students standing around in the hall, and I can see Avery’s little flunkies with their phones out. I step into the hall and I can hear them whispering and giggling among themselves. I keep my head high as I start to head back to the dorms. I get as far as the main staircase before I’m faced with Avery, Ash, and Blaise. Avery looks victorious, but the boys both look a little sick at the sight of me. Clearly, they’re not fans of girls covered in vomit, which is mildly reassuring. There’s a teacher I don’t recognize standing with them, wearing gym clothes.
“Mr. Embley? I found Miss Anderson. She’s a little worse for wear, and I think I can smell alcohol.” Avery’s voice is saccharine, and I could vomit again at the sound of it. Mr. Embley steps out from his office, and I try not to cringe. Did Matteo know I’d be facing this teacher? How did he think I’d be getting out of this? Fuck, I’m doomed. Before I can spiral any further into a panic, Mr. Embley ushers me forward.
“Miss Beaumont, please let Miss Anderson pass. She doesn’t look well.”
I sigh in relief. I shouldn’t ever doubt Matteo. His reach is unparalleled, and he makes Avery look like the child she is. He may be infinitely more dangerous, but at least he’s the devil I know. I start back up the stairs as the whispers get louder and more insistent.
“Mr. Embley, aren’t you going to breath test her? I saw her drinking last night.” Avery’s voice changed back to the sharp edge she always reserved for people she thought were lesser than her. It was the first time I’d heard her use it on a teacher.
I level her with a look as I go to pass her. I feel like we’ve come to some sort of an agreement where she’ll dish out punishments, and I’ll take them just the same. Ash steps in front of me so I’m forced to stop. I think about stepping into him and getting my vomit on him but stop myself. He’s looking at me, at my face and the bruises under my eyes. For a second it looks like he’s checking to make sure I’m okay. He seems uneasy about what his sister has done to me.
“Let her pass. She needs some rest. Do you need the nurse, Miss Anderson? No? Then head straight to your room, please. The Jackal sends his regards.”
Ash’s eyes widen slightly, like he’s never heard anyone disobey his sister before, and Blaise crosses his arms. I smirk at them both. The moment would feel a lot more victorious if I wasn’t cold and disgusting.
“Looks like you’re not the only one with connections, Floss,” I whisper so only they can hear me.
Ash finally moves, and I walk back to my room, slowly and with my head held high. As I round the corner to the girls’ dorm I see Lauren and Jessie studying in the sitting area. They look up and see me, their jaws drop. Lauren scrambles to get up, but then she glances around the room to check and see who else is watching. I clench my jaw and give her a quick shake of my head. I’m frustrated at how afraid she is, how easily she bows down to the whims of the more popular students.
I make it to my room, and I grab my shower bag. I make it four steps away from my door when Harley steps out of one of the other girls’ rooms and directly in my path. Annabelle steps out after him. I had no idea she lived two doors down from me, that the guys had been fucking her two doors down from me, and as irrational as it may seem, it pisses me off to know how close I am to that.
If looks could kill, Annabelle would be buried by now.
Harley glances at me, and then levels her with a glare so dark I’d be worried if
I were in her shoes. She ignores him completely. The smirk she gives me only lasts as long as it takes me to flip her the bird as I shove past them both and into the bathroom to shower.
I remember to take everything into the shower stall with me this time.
“Out.”
Harley’s voice bounces off the bathroom tiles. I’ve stripped out of my dirty uniform, and I’ve barely got the shower running. I think for a second he’s talking to me, and then I hear the other girls leave and the door to the communal shower close and lock.
“I’d rather not be locked in here with you,” I say, my voice still raw as I wrap a towel around my naked body. I don’t know if I think he’ll burst in here with me or what, but it feels too intimate to be naked with only the stall door between us.
“Just have your shower. We’ll talk once you’re clean.”
I wait a minute, and when he doesn’t go on, I drop the towel and get under the spray. The heat from the water pierces my skin and soaks straight through my bones until I’m left tingling. I just stand there and try and get warm for a moment before I start scrubbing my skin to wash away the vomit and grime. The smell at first is vile, but after my second pass over the washcloth, I’m able to just enjoy the shower. Once I’m happy with the state of my body, I brush my teeth, and then again for good measure.
My mind keeps skipping back over to Harley being in here with me. He can’t see me, at least I hope he can’t, but there’s something intimate about me washing myself with him in the room. I begrudgingly admit to myself that I like the feeling. He’s probably hating every second of standing here and waiting for me, but my mind is still too foggy. I really couldn’t give a damn about what he’s thinking.
When I shut off the water and wrap myself back up in the towel, I wait for the steam to dissipate enough to start dressing. It’s a Saturday, so there’s no classes for me to get to, only extracurriculars, and I’m not going down to the dining hall after last night. I may never eat down there again.
Once I’ve pulled my pajamas on, I look down at myself and see the bruises that have formed over my arms. There’re two perfect handprints, one on each arm, like I’ve been grabbed roughly. I place one of my own hands over the prints, and it fits near perfectly. A girl has put them on me. No guy at this school has hands as small as mine. It was probably Avery. She would have grabbed me and shoved me into the bathroom so I was safe enough until I came to and she could get me expelled for drinking. That girl is an evil psycho, but I grin at the thought. Maybe it is stupid of me, but I’ve started admiring her work. She has a good understanding of the school rules, and she’s working hard to exploit them and get me out of here.
I open the stall door and step out into the bathroom with my bag slung over my shoulder. Harley is propped up on the sinks, and he’s glaring at his phone. He glances up at me and shoves the phone into his back pocket like it's offended him. His eyes roam over me, like Ash’s had down at the staircase, like he’s looking for injuries, and it makes me fucking livid.
“Is there something specific you need, because I really need a nap,” I croak out, my throat still sore. I need water and something to eat. I need ten hours of sleep.
“What happened to you? What the fuck did Joey do this time?”
I laugh at him. Was he the only one who wasn’t in on it? Why had Avery left him out? “I’m fine. I’m still standing. Go back to Annabelle and enjoy your weekend.”
I make to move around him, and Harley’s hands shoot out to grab me. They land right on the bruises, and I grunt at the sharp sting of pain. His eyes widen and he loosens his grip on me as he pulls me into his chest. It’s not a hug, not even close, but now I’m pressed up against him and I can feel every inch of his rock-hard torso pressing against me until I want to melt into him. Danger, Will Robinson. Big fucking danger.
“Fuck Annabelle, she’s in on this. Did Avery do it?” His eyes dance around my face, and I think he’s judging how willing I am to kiss him. A shot of fear shoots through my blood. I can’t kiss him. For one, I have no idea how to even kiss someone. My experience so far is just the forced kiss from Joey, and I mostly just laid there for that. For another, if he kisses me now and then leaves this room and goes back to hating me, I will break. I want him too much. So instead of facing my fears head-on, I focus on the tattoo on his jaw like a coward. It’s moving as he clenches his jaw, and I think of the little heart pendant I have back in my room that belongs to him.
You before my blood. If I tell him what Avery had done, would he put me before his blood? Did I want him to? Now that I had started to question Avery’s motives, I wasn’t sure I wanted to drive a wedge between them.
The longer I stay silent, the more agitated Harley becomes, until his chest is heaving, and his hands begin to shake where he holds me.
“Fuck, can you just stay alive? Can you just leave and keep breathing? Is that too much to ask?” he ground out.
“Afraid your cousin is going to get life for my murder? I'm sure he can buy his way out of it. I'd rather risk death than leave here. Do you hear me? I’d rather die here than go back to Mounts Bay and become what's waiting for me there.”
He stares down at me, his eyes burning into my skull, and then he shoves me away from his body with a vicious curse under his breath. When he rubs the back of his head, he glances over at me with a calculating look. I don’t like it; I don’t like feeling that he’s assessing me and found me wanting.
“Don’t worry about today. I’ll live to die another day, and it won’t be at your cousins’ hands. Go back to your friends.”
He doesn’t fight me as I swing the door open. We find Annabelle waiting on the other side, close, like she’s been eavesdropping on us both. I ignore her, walking straight out and toward my room as she begins to yell at Harley. I intend to ignore their lover’s spat altogether, but then I hear the slap of her palm across his cheek and I glance over my shoulder at them both. She’s crying, and he’s looking at her with a bored expression that doesn’t gel with the tightness in his shoulders. She takes another swing at him, and he catches her wrist.
“It’s pretty fucking simple. I don’t take orders from my cousins. You’ve just proved that you do, so you can kiss my ass goodbye.”
He drops her wrist and turns to leave. Annabelle grabs his arm and screams at him again.
“Over the fucking Mounty? Maybe Ash is right, maybe you are soft over her.”
Harley whips around and, using his chest alone, he backs her up against the wall so quickly that the other girls watching scatter. Again, no one steps up to help her. No one cares if he does turn out to be violent. My eyes collide with his for a second before he leans down to her. I think he’s going to kiss her, and if he does, I’m going to vomit all over again.
“If you think I’m the soft one, then you’re dumber than I thought.”
And then he leaves her. Annabelle is panting, tears are streaming down her face, and the crowd is lapping up her humiliation. She’s always enjoyed the attention she’s had for being shared by them, but I don’t think she’ll enjoy being dumped so publicly by him.
Chapter Nineteen
I wake on Monday to the news that Avery has dumped Rory.
There isn’t a single freshman that will look at or speak to him, or Harlow for that matter. Neither seems to care all that much, but Rory is now walking the halls of Hannaford like he’s got a target on his back. From the looks he’s getting from Ash and Harley, it’s obvious they’re the ones that have put it there.
I watch the entire spectacle of Rory trying to find a seat at lunch with a grin on my face. I must look like a lunatic, but there’s something incredibly satisfying about seeing his football team turn their backs on him. After a cold glare over at Avery, he ends up sitting with Harlow and Joey’s flunkies. Ash glances over and sees my glee, and we share a moment. He knows I gave Avery the photos and, angry at Rory as he is, he’s fucking ecstatic about the way this is all panning out. Join the club, Beaumont. It feels weird t
o be on the same side for once.
My joy quickly evaporates when the dining hall doors open and Joey walks through, his suspension finally lifted.
He’s looking much healthier than the last time I saw him. There’s meat on his bones, and the dark circles that were ever-present have faded. I wonder if he’s been in rehab. He’s been gone long enough to have finished a twelve-step process, but I snort at the very thought of him sitting around a facility and making nice with people there. Still, it would explain his appearance. Maybe the suspension was really the school covering for him at his parents' request. I’m sure Mr. Trevelen is on their payroll; he’s certainly on Avery’s.
He doesn’t bother to grab a tray. After giving his siblings a sarcastic little wave, he joins his flunkies and gives Rory a once-over.
“Weren’t you fucking my sister? Have you lot let a spy into my house?” His arrogant tone cuts through the rest of the chatter at the table.
“He got caught sticking his dick in someone else’s hole, so now he’s sitting with us. You always said anyone who fucks with the twins is welcome here,” is Harlow’s dripping reply. She doesn’t mention that she was the hole. She’s still open for Joey’s business, first and foremost.
Joey tips his head back and laughs too loud for the echoes in the room. Ash gets up to leave, and he tugs Avery along beside him. He’s practically vibrating with rage but, aside from her ashen face, Avery looks unaffected by their behavior. Blaise leans back in his chair and stares Joey down. I wonder whether new money would win over the old if those two had it out.
I’d bet on Blaise in the physical fight any day of the week. His shoulders were easily broader and more defined than Joey, and I knew from concert photos he was ripped. I’d also heard the rumors of the fights he’d won here over the years. The boys’ dorm is basically a fight club half the time, fighting over girls and money. None of those three ever lost.