Corrupt

by Penelope Douglas

  Before she got a chance to say anything else, Will shoved a plate into her hands. “Here.”

  He reached over, grabbing a serving spoon full of scrambled eggs and began loading Rika’s plate.

  She stared dumb-founded, and I turned my head away, trying not to laugh.

  “Now I’m sick of talking,” Will continued, standing up and dishing her fruit and potatoes, as well. “No more plans. No more waiting. No more getting everything in place and all our ducks in a fucking row. Let’s do this.” And then he stopped with tongs in his hand and looked at her. “You like sausage?”

  Without waiting for her to answer, he just shrugged and put two links on her plate.

  She stared at him like he’d just pissed in the sink.

  “We know where he is, and I don’t want to kill him,” Will gritted out, sitting down, “but I’m sure as shit going to change his life forever. Just like he did to us. Are you in or not?”

  I let out a breath, hooding my eyes. Rika continued to stand there for a moment, but then she turned and walked down the table, setting her plate down.

  “He is my brother, okay?” I argued, facing Will.

  I didn’t know what my feelings were about Trevor, but he was my mother’s son—and my father’s, of course—and hurting him would hurt them. I couldn’t decide this today.

  But Will kept arguing. “Don’t give me that shit. He can’t stand you, and you hate him just as much. The only reason you’re holding back is because of her.”

  And he jerked his head at Rika.

  She gripped the back of the chair, still not sitting. “I’m not involved,” she replied calmly. “I’m going back to the city today, and I want nothing to do with any of this.”

  “But you are involved,” Will retorted. “You’re the whole reason for all of this. If you hadn’t been with us that night, Trevor would never have shown up. Now don’t get me wrong. I don’t blame you. And now that I know you’re one of the good guys I can admit that I actually really like you. But you’re Trevor’s motive, and you’re in Michael’s head. He needs to stay focused, and you’re the reason he’s not right now.”

  “I am focused,” I bit out.

  “Great!” he said, smiling. “Then when do we leave for Annapolis?”

  I ran my hands over my face, ready to punch him in the fucking face.

  Rika pulled away from the table, disengaging herself. “I’m going to go call my mother.”

  She turned and walked out of the room, and I darted my gaze to Kai, seeing him rise and follow her.

  I moved to get up, too, but Will grabbed my arm, stopping me. “Your season starts soon,” he pointed out. “This needs to happen now.”

  I sat back down and glared at him. “You listen, and you listen good,” I warned. “Trevor doesn’t even know that we know. He’s not going anywhere. Damon is the threat right now. We have no idea where he is, and he’s pissed off. I’m not stalling. I’m getting organized.”

  And I shoved my chair back, storming out of the dining room, through the foyer, and up the stairs.

  But before I made my way to Rika’s room, I stopped, seeing Kai at the second floor window, peering down into the driveway.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  Walking up to stand next to him, I followed his gaze outside and spotted Rika on the phone, tossing her purse into the back seat of the car. Alex, who I’d forgotten was here, sat in the passenger seat.

  “Goddammit.”

  Damon was out there somewhere, and I didn’t trust him. She couldn’t just leave.

  “Aren’t you going to stop her?” Kai challenged, sounding amused.

  “I’m…” I shook my head, leaning on the window frame. “I’m not sure I can.”

  I heard him breathe out a laugh. “You finally met your match, huh?”

  She stood outside her car, still on the phone, probably with her mother. The smile on her lips reminded me of a younger Rika. A gentler, happier one.

  Before I’d gotten a hold of her.

  “I don’t know what to do with her,” I said in a low voice.

  She was in my body, in my head, and…

  I looked down at her, my heart aching at the way she pushed her hair behind her ear.

  And she was creeping into other places, too.

  “You really think you need to prove anything to her?” Kai asked. “You think she hasn’t been in love with you just the way you are her entire life?”

  I continued staring out the window, not wanting this conversation with him.

  “That’s what scares you, isn’t it?” Kai prodded.

  “It doesn’t scare me.”

  “I hope not,” he said, staring down at her. “Because you’ve corrupted her nice and good. She’s a force now, and it won’t be long before she’s brave enough to demand what she wants. If you don’t give it to her, she’ll find someone else who will.”

  I turned my head, peering over at him. “I don’t need your warnings. I don’t lose.”

  “That wasn’t a warning,” he shot back, not taking his eyes off her. “That was a threat.” And then he looked at me as he turned to leave. “Watch your back, brother.”

  Present

  I DROPPED MY HEAD BACK, letting the tip of my blade fall to the ground as I tried to catch my breath.

  I hated fencing alone.

  I hated being stuck alone.

  It had been five days since I drove back from Thunder Bay, Michael and the guys following close behind, and if I wasn’t in class, then I was in my apartment.

  Per Michael’s orders.

  And if I strayed—to the bookstore or the grocery store—he’d be calling or texting, wondering where I was. I think he had Mr. Patterson and Richard alerting him when I didn’t walk in the front door at a certain time every day, and I was about done with it.

  Alex had invited me for coffee with her friends tomorrow, and I was going to go.

  Now that I knew my mother was safe, and actually sounding hopeful and more energetic, judging from the sound of her voice on the phone, I wanted to keep moving forward. My accounts were back to normal, and several contractors were assessing our house in Thunder Bay, getting ready to make bids on the restoration.

  Whatever Michael and his friends were planning for Trevor and Damon, I didn’t care. I didn’t want any part of it.

  Sick Puppies You’re Going Down played off my laptop in the kitchen, and I stood at the island, chugging a bottle of water, the light layer of sweat on my back cooling my skin.

  I’d spent twenty minutes in front of a floor length mirror, checking my footwork and parrying with a tennis ball before finishing with thirty minutes of sequences.

  Fencing wasn’t something I competed at, but it was something I endeavored to perfect. My father had wanted me to study it, and even though I could’ve quit at any time, I refused. It would’ve been closing a door. Leaving him behind in a way.

  I just wished I had someone to practice with—a club or a program at a gym or something. It was dull training on my own, which was why I’d barely done any workouts since moving to Meridian City.

  My phone started ringing, and I set down my water bottle, staring at Michael’s name on the screen.

  Hitting Ignore, I turned off my phone and pushed it away.

  Every time he called or texted, it was demands, orders, and updates about where I was, what I was doing, and if I’d talked to anyone today. He never asked me how I was or said anything nice.

  Until he finally showed up, late and worked-up from his basketball practice, wanting in my bed.

  He’d walk in, lock the door, and start stripping off my clothes, and everything I told myself to strengthen my resolve when he wasn’t here went out the fucking window.

  I’d wrap my legs around his waist and let him carry me to my room.

  He was winning, and here I was again, playing his game.

  I made my way for the refrigerator to get another bottle of water, but three quick knocks hit the front door
, and I halted, the hair on the back of my neck standing up.

  It’s okay. If it were Damon—or Trevor—the door was locked, and no one could get in.

  Walking slowly for the door, I tightened my fist around the handle of my foil and leaned in, peering through the peephole.

  Nothing but black. The lapels of his jacket, a shirt, and then there was a sliver of smooth, tanned neck. I couldn’t see his face, six-foot-four as he was, but I’d know Michael anywhere.

  “Who is it?” I asked playfully.

  “Who do you think?” he snapped. “Open the damn door.”

  I shook my head, laughing to myself. Any opportunity to aggravate him was a small victory.

  Opening the door a few inches, I stood there, fixing him with a defiant stare.

  “A little early, aren’t you?” I challenged. “You usually like your ass around ten.”

  He hooded his eyes, not the least bit amused. “Let me in.”

  But I shook my head, keeping him at bay. “No, I don’t think so. I’m not interested tonight.”

  “Not interested?” He scowled. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means you can’t keep me locked up to be at your service whenever you’re in the mood.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Is that what you think I’m doing?” He pushed open the door and walked in, forcing me to back away. “You think I’m hiding you?”

  He took another step toward me, but I immediately raised my pathetic sword between us, stopping him. Its flat tip pressed into his torso while the hilt nearly pressed into mine, keeping forty-three inches between us.

  He let out a bitter laugh, looking down at my weapon. “My games are more fun.”

  But I wasn’t playing. “You took Alex out,” I reminded him. “My first night at Delcour, she was in a dress, you were in a suit, and you both had just gotten back here from wherever you were at. You haven’t taken me anywhere.”

  He swiped the sword away and walked into me, backing me up against a wall. Leaning his hand above my head, he dipped down, holding my eyes.

  “So what do you want?” he sneered. “Flowers? A nice, polite dinner in a pretty dress, and a nice, polite fuck in a hotel room? Then I’ll see you to your door at the end of the night? Come on, Rika. You’re disappointing me. That isn’t us.”

  “Us?” I argued. “There is no ‘us.’ You have no idea what makes me happy, and you don’t care.”

  “Really?” He nodded with a sarcastic lift to his eyebrows. “So sneaking into Hunter-Bailey for their open bouting event tonight wouldn’t make you happy? Because that’s what I was coming to get you for.”

  My eyes rounded, and my mouth fell open.

  “But if you’d rather dinner and movie, hey.” He shrugged. “I can go buy some boring fucking flowers, too.”

  I broke out a wide smile, squealing as I jumped up and wrapped my arms around him.

  He tried to stay stiff and aggravated, but I could see the smile trying to break out.

  “You suck,” I teased.

  “So do you,” he retorted, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Don’t tell me how to treat you, okay? I know exactly what you like.”

  And then he pulled away, giving me a light slap on the ass. “Now go shower and change. You stink.”

  I couldn’t stop grinning as I spun around and dashed into the bathroom.

  “STAND UP STRAIGHT,” Michael scolded, tossing his keys to the valet.

  I followed him to Hunter-Bailey’s stairs, immediately squaring my shoulders and clutching my forest green duffel bag over my shoulder.

  “Are you sure this is going to be okay?” I asked, facing him.

  He reached behind my head and grabbed the black hood of the over-sized sweatshirt he’d put on me, pulling it over my hair.

  “Who’s going to stop us?” he shot back.

  I twisted my lips to the side as he tucked my long hair inside the hood.

  Who’s going to stop us? Would I ever learn to retort with that when I had doubts? No, because I was a worrier.

  “Well, what if they find out I’m a woman?” I pressed, my skin tingling as his hands grazed my face.

  “Then smile and own it,” he replied. “The only way we find out what we’re capable of is by getting into a little trouble.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Sometimes getting into trouble can get you into a lot of trouble. Just ask Kai and Will.”

  He looked at me like I was an idiot. “Are you planning to beat up any cops or sleep with underage girls?”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Come on.” He took my hand, pulling me up the stairs.

  Opening the door, he entered, letting me follow, and I kept my head down, hearing glasses clink and boisterous laughter coming from the dining room.

  The pungent scent of cigars drifted out, assaulting my nostrils, so I inhaled short, shallow breaths.

  Michael laid a hand on my back, guiding me toward the stairs.

  “Mr. Crist?” a male voice called, and we stopped.

  My heart jumped in my chest, but I didn’t turn around.

  “Policy requires that everyone check in, sir,” the man said. It must’ve been one of the attendants.

  “This is William Grayson III,” Michael answered, his voice calm and confident.

  I could feel the man’s eyes on my back.

  After a few moments, he cleared his throat and answered, “Of course, sir.”

  Relief swept over me, but I knew he knew. How could he not? If he knew Will at all, he would know I was several inches shorter and eighty pounds of muscle too small.

  But he wouldn’t challenge a member. If Michael said I was Will, then I was Will.

  “Come on.” Michael nudged my back, sending me up the staircase.

  I tightened my grasp on my bag and jogged up the stairs, hearing footfalls above me and chatter coming from the rooms we passed as he led me down the hall.

  “Follow close,” he told me over his shoulder. “Don’t look up.”

  I kept my eyes down and my head bowed, simply watching the back of his shoes as I shadowed him down the hallway. We walked through a door and across another room.

  It was the gym. I could tell by the glossed, wooden floors, the sound of speed bags being hit, and the squeaks of tennis shoes. Following Michael’s order, I didn’t look up, simply walking as quickly as possible to the locker room door as he opened it, rushing me in.

  He led me past the steam room, the sauna, and the spas, their water vapor winding up out of the pools like a witch’s brew, and led me past the lockers and the few male voices I could hear lurking about in the vast room. Curving to the right, we stepped into a row of frosted glass doors. Michael grabbed the handle of one and pushed me inside, stepping behind me and closing the door.

  Looking up, I spun around, seeing that it was a shower. The rainfall head sat directly above me on the ceiling, and a built in soap dish on the wall held three large bottles with pumps—shampoo, conditioner, and body wash.

  Michael took my bag and opened it, pulling out my pants, jacket, gloves, socks, and shoes.

  Tossing the bag down, he dropped to a knee and started unfastening my pants.

  I laughed under my breath, grabbing at his hands. “I can do it,” I protested.

  “But I want to,” he said, sounding playful and making my heart flutter.

  I heaved a sigh and stood up straight, letting him take off my shoes and socks before pulling down my jeans and slipping them over my feet. I stripping off my sweatshirt and T-shirt together, dropping them to the floor.

  I crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for him to get out my white fencing pants and dress me, but instead, his eyes locked on mine as he slid his fingertips up my legs.

  His lips quirked, and heat spread into his hazel eyes.

  Curling his fingers under the hem of my panties, he pulled them down my legs, and I simply watched, trying to stay calm despite the butterflies on my belly.

  I loved it when he watched me.
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  His rudeness and course attitude made the rare times he was soft so captivating that I wanted to slap myself. He was a sadist, and my little heart just had to go pitter-patter the second his yanks, grabs, and pulls turned into gentle caresses and his frowns, scowls, and snarls turned into whispers.

  I fell, and I never even tried to stop myself.

  Lust and logic sat on my shoulders like the modern day angel and devil, one telling me to trust my heart and the other telling me that I would never be able to trust his.

  Michael slid his hands up my thighs, and I stood there, completely naked for him as his hot eyes drank me in and his fingers kneaded my skin.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I scolded. “I want to fence.”

  He broke out in a smile, knowing he was caught. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, sliding his hands up my ass and holding my hips as he looked up at me.

  I couldn’t believe it. Michael Crist was on his knees, telling me I was beautiful.

  I pushed his hands, heaving a sigh. “Just get me dressed.”

  I wasn’t sure why he wanted me completely naked—no bra or panties—but arguing would tell him I was nervous, and screw that.

  If he wanted me naked under my gear, it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.

  He helped me get into my socks and then my pants. I slipped into my jacket that zipped up the front and then twisted my hair into a bun on the top of my head and wrapped a rubber band around it, securing it before sliding on my white gloves.

  We got my shoes and mask on, making sure any stray hairs were tucked in.

  “Let’s go,” Michael stood up and turned for the door, grabbing my hand.

  But I yanked it out, smiling even though he couldn’t see my face under the mask. “Do you normally hold Will’s hand?”

  He paused, as if realizing what he’d done. “Good point.”

  He opened the shower door, I followed him out, past the lockers, spas, and steam room and sauna again. Just as we were heading for the door leading back into the gym, Kai walked through, entering the locker room with a bag over his shoulder.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” he asked, stopping in front of Michael.

  Michael shook his head, blowing him off, but then Kai’s eyes flashed to me and instantly narrowed.