by J Bree
“I need a copy of this. Can you email me one? The highest definition you have please,” I say and Lance smiles at me like I’ve complimented him. His hand brushes mine when he takes the iPad back and he runs a finger over my hand. I force myself not to shudder but I move away from him quickly and Ash sees him do it.
“Don’t be a creepy fuck.” He snaps but Lance just smirks at him.
“You’re the one watching her like an obsessed boyfriend. Maybe she should be worried about you.”
Ash’s face morphs into his icy mask and I groan. Great. I’m going to be scraping Mounty innards off of my bag for the rest of the evening.
“Run along, Mounty. I’ll see you back at the dorms.”
Finally, Lance gulps and leaves. I quirk an eyebrow at Ash but he ignores me and I shove textbooks into my bag. As I pack, I check my phone and spot a text from Avery. I manage to hold in my groan and say to Ash, “Avery wants us both to meet her for dinner in the dining hall.”
He nods and waits for me, frowning and distracted. He motions to Lance’s empty seat and says, “Did you really have to encourage him? You obviously aren’t interested.”
I sigh and we walk out of the library. “How did I encourage him? I never flirt back.”
He grabs my elbow to pull me closer when a group of rowdy seniors pass us but he doesn’t let go when we’re past them. “You asked for a copy of the photo and you don’t snap at him like you do when I speak to you.”
It sounds like he’s whining about sharing me but his tone is aggravated. I roll my eyes at him. “I snap at you because you piss me off. You get under my skin, you hurt me, you say stupid shit to me all the fucking time to get a rise out of me. But you don’t creep me out. I’m never worried about you taking things too far.”
Ash’s spine snaps straight and he drops his hand away from my elbow. I roll my eyes all over again. “Settle down, Beaumont, I’m just saying you’re a decent human being when you’re not being an asshole to me.”
He clears his throat and I swear there’s color on his cheeks that wasn’t there before.
“Are you blushing right now? What exactly has you swooning? The word asshole?”
He glares at me and rolls his eyes. “Shut up, Mounty, I’m not fucking swooning. No one has ever called me decent before and my reaction is one of shock. It doesn’t happen often so you wouldn’t have seen it before and don’t expect to see it again.”
I stop and grab his elbow, the same way he’d taken mine. “You are decent, Ash. You’re loyal to your friends and you protect Avery fiercely. You even protect me when you think I’m in danger even though you don’t trust me. You lost your mind over the thought of your brother hurting me. Being related to Joey, and your father, doesn’t make you bad.”
He shrugs and pulls his arm away. I’m glad because for a second there I thought I was going to have to offer to hug him and the thought of being pressed against him like that makes me sweat. The image of his nipples pops into my head and I have to shake it out before I melt into a fucking puddle. When we get to the dining hall he stares at me for a second and then grabs a tray. When I move to grab one for myself he snaps, “Don’t be dense, Mounty, what do you want for dinner?”
Well, okay then.
Blaise texts after classes finish to say he’s skipping our tutoring session to watch Harley swim in the trials that are being held at Hannaford. I’m actually really glad because I need the space to sort my head out and work on my own assignments. I get twenty minutes to myself before Avery storms into our room and runs for the bathroom.
“What are you doing, we’re going to be late! You can’t attend the trials unless you’re in uniform so change back!” she calls out to me before ducking into the bathroom to change out of her ballet clothes and freshen up. She leaves the bathroom door open because apparently she knows I’m going to argue.
“I’m not going. Harley didn’t even tell me they were on,” I say but I’m up and getting dressed as I say it. I know Avery won’t accept my answer.
“We’re being supportive, get your butt moving.”
I roll my eyes at her but I speed up anyway. When she’s ready I grab my blazer and head for the door, grumbling, “He’s your cousin, why do I have to be supportive?”
Avery rolls her eyes at me and waves her phone in my face as we start to walk down to the pool. “He’s been obsessively texting me about who is threatening you. Face it, you guys are friends now and you have to support him. Plus, I know you think he’s hot and he’s going to be walking around in speedos, dripping wet for three hours. You’re welcome.”
I choke on my own tongue. Jesus fucking Christ.
The pool is Olympic-sized with enough seating for the entire school to watch the trials but with the parents and families that came to watch we struggle to find a decent spot. Blaise ends up sweet talking someone’s sister and we get close enough that I can see the droplets of water sliding down Harley’s abs. Avery laughs hysterically at me, the bitch, but Ash and Blaise just look at her like she’s crazy.
“What are the trials for?” I ask as we watch Harley approach the starting blocks. Fuck me, he does look pretty fucking good. I look away before I publicly shame myself.
“A spot on the state team. Harley wins it every year and then when they offer it to him he turns them down.” Avery murmurs, sipping her coffee.
“Why?”
She shrugs. “He enjoys winning but doesn’t want to take it further. I told him he should do it for scholarships for college but, until you got here, he assumed he’d be dead by then.”
I cringe and nod. Harsh but true, without me and the protection I’ve bought him he would be dead. I let my thoughts spiral as I go through my exit plan for the two of us. Harley steps onto his starting block and gets into position. I quietly admire the muscles in his back and the length of his legs. He’s broader and more defined than the other swimmers. I’d have guessed he’d be slower because of the extra weight in muscle he’s carrying.
My daydreaming is interrupted when Harlow sits down next to me.
Avery straightens and jabs Ash in the ribs when she sees her but I ignore the bitch, keeping my attention on Harley as the starting gun fires and he dives into the water in a graceful arc.
“How the fuck do you know Joey’s dealers?” she murmurs and I turn to look at her.
Her fingers are trembling where she’s holding her phone and her eyes are having trouble tracking. Great. She’s on something, too.
“His dealers or yours?” I say and Avery snorts, muttering “Typical,” under her breath.
Harlow flicks her hair over her shoulder and says, blithely, “Does it matter? They sell the best and they’re rough guys. Joey’s concerned at having his baby sister rooming with the wrong sort of girl.”
Ash throws his head back and roars with laughter like Blaise usually does but the rock star just glares at Harlow like she’s a ticking bomb.
“You better not be here at Joey’s request because I’ve already warned him twice about provoking me. If he does it again I’m not going to play games with him, I’m going for his throat.”
Avery tucks her arm into mine and holds my hand where Harlow can see it, a clear statement of loyalty. “Run along, Roqueford. Go snort your lines somewhere else so I can enjoy watching my cousin wipe the floor with your brother. Oh, wait, you did know Andrew Wakes was your bastard brother, didn’t you? Everyone knows you come by your slutty nature from your father. I hope you use condoms a bit more than he does or you’ll have your own horde of bastards in no time.”
Harlow curses viciously under her breath as she leaves and I turn back to the race just in time to see Harley touch the wall first, a full body length in front of his competitors.
“He really should join the state team,” I say and Avery hums her agreement.
Blaise clears his throat. “Are either of you going to explain what the hell she was talking about?”
I look over at him, startled. “Didn’t Harley tell you?”
&n
bsp; Ash gives me an incredulous look. “He doesn’t tell us anything that involves you.”
Huh. I guess he thinks that comes with being ‘mine’ which is probably wise. I sigh. “Joey brought some of his dealers to the school and thought he’d be able to out me as a gang member or dealer or whatever. As I am none of those things, he was pissed when they left at my request.”
They both blink at me then Ash says, “You asked his dealers to leave and they did?”
I shrug. “I asked nicely.”
Avery giggles and distracts the guys away from the topic.
When Harley wins his last race of the night Avery ushers me out, telling the guys she’s too tired to watch the medals ceremony and we walk back to our room.
The next morning Avery leaves for winter break and I roll out of my bed to say goodbye, though I’m clearly not quite human before I’ve had my coffee.
“Be good while I’m gone.” Avery smirks and kisses my cheek. I laugh and hand over the wrapped gift I’ve had stashed under my bed. She gasps.
“You said no presents!”
I laugh. “I know you’ve ignored me and there’s something in your closet for me. Don’t peek until Christmas.”
She laughs and tweaks my nose.
Chapter Sixteen
I refuse to leave my room for winter break. Harley checks in every day but he mostly leaves me alone when I tell him I need to catch up on my assignments while I don’t have to tutor anyone else. I text Avery every day and I’m relieved to find the Crow has fulfilled his favor and kept Senior away from home.
On Christmas Eve I go to bed with the same plan I have every year.
I won’t exist again until Christmas is over.
Someone is in the kitchen.
I crack one eye open and turn my head just far enough to see who’s fumbling around in Avery’s cooking supplies.
Harley.
He’s standing there in a gray sweatshirt and sweatpants, mixing something in a bowl while a pan heats up on the stove. The coffee machine is beeping and he’s turned the TV onto some random channel with Christmas carols.
I groan and shut my eyes.
“I'm making French toast. Aves said it’s your favorite, consider it a peace offering. I'm only good at breakfast so you're going to have to figure something out for us to have for dinner.”
Why is he here? Why is he making me food and forcing me to function? I just want to wallow between my sheets and forget about this stupid day. I huff and roll over. I’m not getting up, fuck him.
“I get you don't do Christmas but this is the first chance I've had to spend the day with someone since my da died. I've been trapped in boarding schools ever since and teachers really don't give a crap about orphaned mobster kids.”
I groan again and sit up, frowning at him. He's got his back to me as he drops the soaked bread into the pan. I can't kick him out. He's being sweet and kind, and, fuck it, if I don't want him spending another Christmas alone. I cannot function on my birthday but I could force myself today if it means this much to him. Clearly, I’m getting soft.
So I get up.
I pull an oversized sweater on and then accept a giant cup of coffee from Harley while I rummage around in the cupboards for syrup and sprinkles. It's Christmas, we deserve some fucking sprinkles.
Harley tries to sit at the counter but I push him into sitting on the floor in front of the TV instead. I put Nightmare Before Christmas on instead of the bullshit carols and then we argue for the entire movie. Let's just say one of us thinks the movie is a Christmas movie and the other person is wrong. The French toast is the best I've ever had.
I stand up to clear our plates and Harley's gaze catches on my bare legs. That's when I realize I'm only wearing underwear and the sweater. My cheeks turn scarlet and I rush to find some pants. Harley chuckles at me like we’re friends and I startle when I realize we are. Fuck, how did that happen?
When I return from the closet, Harley has grabbed a bottle of whiskey from Avery’s stash and is sitting cross-legged on the floor where I usually study with Blaise. I’m a little worried about drinking with him again because last time I couldn’t control myself and I hate how awkward I felt around him afterwards. I don’t know how he found Avery’s hiding spot but when he grins and holds up a shooter glass I can’t help but cave. I roll my eyes and I grab the shot, downing it as I join him. He throws one back and chases it with a beer. Gross.
“Aves told me you guys swap truths. I want to give that a go.”
I arch an eyebrow at him and rub my palms on my yoga pants. “We also choose our own truths. I’m assuming you want to ask me questions?”
He nods as he refills the glasses. “We take turns asking. If you want to pass, take the shot.”
I’d have liver poisoning in under an hour but we’ve had such a good day I don’t want to spoil it by refusing. If I made it past ten shots I’ll bow out. I nod and he smirks at me, wolfishly.
“Ladies first.”
I snort. “There are no ladies here, just you and the Mounty trash. But fine.” I blow out a breath. There’s plenty I want to ask him. The problem is, if I go straight to the deep stuff he may pass or he could do the same and I’ll have to quit the game. I need to stick to lighthearted stuff. “First kiss?” I tease.
He flicks the lid from his beer at me. “Lame. Some chick in fifth grade. I can’t tell you her name, I honestly don’t remember. Yours?”
Fuck. I didn’t think that through at all. I take a shot.
“You’ve got to be kidding me? How is that classified information, Mounty?”
“It’s my turn to ask a question.” I refill my shot glass so I don’t have to look at him.
“I’ll give you a freebie. You can insist I answer something if you answer this one.”
Hmm. Tempting. I could lie but now I’ve made a big deal out of it, he’ll guess. Maybe I’m becoming a lightweight with my booze because my stomach is warming my blood already. I give in.
“You. Well, one before you but I don’t count it because…well, I just don’t. Just you because I also don’t count Blaise’s pity kiss.”
It’s pretty clear Harley was expecting any answer except that. I want to cringe away from the shocked intensity in his eyes but my stubborn pride makes me sit and endure it. I’m trapped there until he breaks the spell, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and taking a big gulp. Then he leans back against the coffee table and smirks at me, cocky again.
I clear my throat. “My turn. Why get a face tattoo? I know you have the chest piece but most people fill up their arms and even their necks before getting one on their face.”
He doesn’t speak. The playful look on his face slides right off and he’s glaring down at his shot glass.
Fuck. I thought that was a pretty safe question.
We’re going to be at each other's throats before the end of the bottle at this rate.
“I didn’t choose the tattoo. Or the placement.”
I blink at him. I open my mouth to ask him more but he cuts in, “That’s your answer. You want another question, wait your turn.” There’s an edge to his voice that wasn’t there before. I nod and wave a hand at him to take his turn.
“Worst memory?”
“Pass.” I take a shot.
He rolls his eyes. “Worst memory you're willing to tell me?”
Breaking the rules already and after he’s just quoted them to me, typical. I sigh and scour my brain for something. He already knows about my mom’s overdose. I can't talk about my life with the Jackal.
“What's yours?” I whisper. He looks at me and tips back the bottle of beer, draining it.
“My da being killed. My grandfather shot him, point blank, right between the eyes. If I close my eyes I can still feel the heat of his blood hitting my face.”
I swallow.
Maybe I feel so safe with him because he’s broken, too.
Be brave, Lips, if he can do it then you can.
“I’m pretty good at getting int
o places no one else can. I was given a job to take something from a well-known marksman. Gun for hire. Assassin. Whatever you want to call him, he was the best of the best. I was terrified but I was also hungry. Lonely. Depressed and lost. I snuck in, got what I was paid to get, and I made it to the back door before he woke up. I sprinted to the gate but my leg had only been put back together for a few months at that point and I wasn't quick anymore. Diarmuid pointed a gun at me and told me to give up my employer or he’d shoot. I turned and stared him in the eye. I thought maybe seeing how young I was would be enough to stop him but he stared at me with steady, cold eyes. So I turned and ran, and he shot me. I had to run for two miles with a fresh bullet wound, then I got sewn back together with no pain relief by some nurse turned crackhead. It got infected and I nearly died.”
I was being nice and telling him two truths at once; a bad memory and why his uncle had shot me. I knew he’d ask me at some point so why not just tell him? Harley nods and rubs at his chin, a fine dusting of stubble growing where he hasn't bothered to shave. I can’t stop looking at it. It’s a little darker than the gold waves on his head. I want to rub my cheek on it or even feel the burn of him rubbing his cheek on me. God, I need to get my thoughts out of the gutter.
“Who forced the tattoo on you?”
He doesn’t flinch away or get pissy this time, he’s expecting me to dig for more information. He runs a finger over the rim of his shot glass like he’s going to pass. I’m surprised when he speaks. “My uncle. My da was the oldest in the family. He had nine siblings, four full blood and the rest were from my grandfather’s second marriage. Domhnall was the next boy born and he’s set to take over now that I’m out.” He doesn’t look up at me, his eyes just stay on the amber liquid in the glass. “There was a threat made against me and Ma. My grandfather didn’t give a shit. He said casualties were the price they paid for being in the business they were in and Da should just deal with it. Da didn’t trust his gut and Ma was taken. She was left outside my grandfather’s house a week later but the damage was done. She now lives in an institution for the mentally ill. It broke Da and he left, took off and left me with my grandfather. When he came back to get me, he told the family he was out. They killed him. Then, they held me down and tattooed me. The family creed is actually ‘Blood, Honor, Faith’. They said that Da had put Ma before his blood, which he did. It’s not something he was ashamed of but they tattooed me to try and shame me for what he did.”