Wild Girl: A High School Bully Romance (Slateview High Book 2)

by Eva Ashwood

  I stayed close to the boys as Bishop led our group into the club. We weren’t asked for IDs, and we didn’t even wait in the long, snake-like line that wound its way around the club building. I could only assume that the owners knew the guys or something. Maybe this information broker we were here to meet had arranged for us to be let in.

  I was left to speculate, since Bishop said nothing about it, and once we got inside, having a conversation without shouting became impossible.

  The music was deafening, a cacophony of throbbing beats mixed with blinking club lights. Hundreds of people on the dance floor swayed and moved to the pulse of the music, wrapped in various degrees of leather, lace, and sequined clothes that were as revealing as they were eye-catching. My gaze wandered over the dancers, male and female alike, with something like awe.

  “You can look all you want on the way out,” Bishop said, leaning down to speak into my ear, keeping his hands on me as he guided me through the club with Kace ahead of us and Misael behind. “Muse doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

  It was the first time I’d heard our informant’s name, and Muse was certainly fitting for him. When Kace brought us to the back, into a red-walled room with black leather furniture, the man sitting in there looked like the room had been made with him in mind.

  Tall and lanky, he lounged on one of the couches with his legs stretched out and his arms over the back. Long, black dreadlocks with lots of gold accents woven into them spilled over his dark shoulders, and his chest was bare beneath a black leather vest. His jeans were well-fitted, like he’d been poured into them, and he wore leather boots. I couldn’t tell how old he was—maybe twenty?—but he carried himself with an almost ageless grace, as if he’d seen more in his lifetime than any man should.

  The Lost Boys strode in confidently, keeping me between them as they each reached out to shake Muse’s hand. I couldn’t tell quite what the dynamic between the four of them was, but it seemed like they were familiar with each other.

  “Long time no see, friends,” Muse said. His voice was deep, and he talked slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. “Hear you’re looking for some information. You know that’s the shit I trade in. Sit. We’ll get some drinks going, and then we can talk.”

  Nineteen

  The boys all settled onto the couches, and I followed suit, finding myself jittery as I sat between Kace and Misael. I wanted to dive into our questions immediately, I wanted to ask Muse about everything that I’d had on my mind for literal months. Kace kept his hand on my thigh though—a small, subtle sign to keep it cool and not try to jump into anything too quickly.

  I sucked in a breath, shooting him a quick look as I rested my hand on his. They’d allowed me to come with them instead of insisting I stay at home, and I wanted to prove I deserved to be here. I was out of my depth, but I was learning how to exist in this world of theirs.

  Drinks were brought around, and the boys spoke a little with Muse. Small talk. Chatter, really. Nothing that was nearly half as important as what I wanted to be talking about with him.

  I tapped my foot on the floor softly, channeling the antsy feeling in my gut into something besides hounding Muse about what he knew. Of course, as much as I thought I was being subtle in my agitation, Muse picked it up. His gaze flickered over to me as he took a drink from the glass in his hand. Amusement danced over his face.

  “You’re Cora, ain’t you?” he asked. “The one with the rich motherfucker for a dad.”

  I straightened up a little in my seat. “Yeah. I’m her.”

  The lanky man laughed. “Relax. No harm intended.”

  “Muse thinks he’s a fuckin’ comedian when he’s really just an ass,” Bishop said.

  “I think I can be both of those things simultaneously,” Muse answered with a smirk. He looked back to me. “But it was just an honest question. I swear. In my line of work, it’s always best to keep things nice and casual, you know. People get tense, they get stupid. I don’t like stupid.”

  It wasn’t a threat so much as him laying down the rules: don’t get too ahead of yourself, and don’t do anything dumb.

  Okay. I could do that. I sipped on the drink that had been brought for me, something light and fruity—sweet. I liked it. I could barely taste the alcohol in it, just a little kick at the back end, but I could feel it as it settled into my stomach, calming my nerves.

  I stopped tapping my foot and settled back a little on the seat, resolving to do this the right way—to play by Muse’s rules. With the tension in the air settling, the boys and Muse talked for a while longer about people and things I knew nothing about.

  I got the sense that maybe this was part of Muse’s payment, part of his bargain for accepting his help. And sure enough, as the conversation went on, I realized that the topics being discussed were definitely more than light chit-chat. They were offering him information in exchange for the info we hoped to gain from him.

  After several more minutes of talk, Bishop segued into questions of his own.

  “So rumor has it that you’ve been keeping a tight ear out on the elite lately. Heavy tabs.”

  Muse nodded. “Aye.” He smirked. “But you already know I keep eyes and ears out all over town. You’re lookin’ for specifics.”

  “Names,” Bishop said. “And possibly any motives that could be tied to Cora’s father, Mr. Van Rensselaer, and his imprisonment.”

  Muse stroked his chin lightly, contemplating.

  “You know that kind of information don’t come cheap, let alone free,” he said.

  “And you know we’re good for whatever information you got. We don’t stiff friends.”

  Muse laughed. “We’re friends? Ha! You flatter me.” He took another drink and looked to me. “Well. I know that the Lost Boys always pay their debts. We’ll call it a favor for information. I’ll phone it in when I need it.”

  I shifted, not knowing if I liked the sound of owing this man and not knowing just what that favor may or may not entail. But if it was for my father, I was willing to let the possibility be ambiguous for the time being. After all, once I got Dad out of trouble, I would have better resources to handle whatever came my way—even if it involved Muse.

  So I nodded.

  “Alright.”

  Muse chuckled and looked to Bishop.

  “So. You want names. There’s only one, really. Luke Carmine.”

  I blinked.

  Luke Carmine…

  My mind scrambled for a few seconds to process that information, to connect the dots and make sense of what he’d said.

  “That’s… that’s the guy Eli works for,” I said, turning to glance at the boys. That name was the reason Eli Parks strutted around Slateview as if he owned the place, the reason I’d had to hold Kace back from beating the shit out of him the day he’d gotten in my face after school.

  “Yeah.” Misael nodded, his brows drawing together.

  “Nathaniel doesn’t exactly play nice with him,” Bishop added, narrowing his eyes as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Muse nodded, seemingly unperturbed by this information.

  “Yup.” He chuckled, sitting back and spreading his legs. “All trails lead back to Luke. Rumor mills churn and churn, and regardless of whatever fallout there is, a couple of things are consistent. Luke wanted to take down the Van Rensselaers—” He cut his gaze to me. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

  I shook my head, more interested in him continuing to speak than in him sparing my feelings.

  He shrugged. “So Luke followed leads that were true and used those to plant falsehoods on the off chance that someone started digging a little too hard. He gave the Feds everything they needed to make their case.”

  My brow rose. “Leads that were true? What leads?”

  Muse scratched his chin. “Unethical business practices. Using loopholes to get around standard practices. Honestly, typical shit for the upper echelon. It was a good in for Luke though, and he used it to pull the right strings with the wr
ong people. Wham, bam, locked up ma’am.”

  I frowned. The fact that there was enough truth to make it seem convincing to whoever Luke had pulled strings with was concerning. The fact that it had nothing to do with Nathaniel was a mix of concerning and relieving. Concerning, because it put us at a distance from the person who was actually responsible for my father’s imprisonment. Relieving, because it negated the possibility that the boys would have to go against someone they worked for, someone who held their lives in his hands.

  One problem down, another comes up to take its place, I guess.

  Scooting forward a little, I met Muse’s gaze. “Is there anything else that you have? Anything else you know?”

  “You ask that like I didn’t just give you a shitload of valuable info to go off of,” he said, tilting his head. “A name means you know who’s responsible. A method means you understand the angle they were going for. Motive…” He huffed. “Well. What other motive could there possibly be other than puttin’ a rich fuck in his place?”

  I tensed a bit at the way he worded it but tried to keep any hint of anger off my face. “I see.”

  Muse leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

  “Here’s the thing,” he said. “I know Luke is responsible. I also know it was likely because your pops did something to piss him off. Luke isn’t so thorough unless it’s personal. Which means one of your old man’s operations, or ventures, or deals, probably fucked with something of Luke’s. Honey, that’s a lot of information to go off. You find the one that matches, you find what you need to fix the fuck up.” He looked to Bishop. “Not that I’m encouraging you to go poking around Luke’s stink. That’s a lot of shit to wade through, even for you guys.”

  “We’ll figure something out,” Bishop responded. “We always do.”

  Muse chuckled at that. “Well, that’s a damn fact, ain’t it? You always know how to get yourselves out of trouble.” His gaze flicked to me, and a grin tilted his lips. It wasn’t leering or lascivious like Flint’s had been, but I couldn’t exactly tell if it was friendly either. “Or into trouble.”

  All three of the boys tensed slightly, but Muse either didn’t notice their reaction or ignored it. He kicked his legs out in front of him again, crossing them at the ankle and interlacing his fingers behind his head.

  “Now that we got all that sorted out, go. Shoo.” He jerked his chin toward the door, grinning. “I’ll be in touch with you, sweetheart. I’m sure these three will know how to reach you, yeah?”

  I nodded as we all stood, and his grin widened.

  “Good. I look forward to our next chat. Now get the fuck outta here. Drinks are on me downstairs if you want ’em.”

  “Even though we’re underage?” I asked, my brows furrowing.

  I was sure the drinks he’d given us earlier had been alcoholic, but I hadn’t thought too much of it in this private room at the back of the club. I was surprised an actual bartender would serve us though.

  Muse chuckled. “Ah. Questions of the innocents. I love it.”

  It was the only “answer” he gave, and I let the subject drop as Bishop, Kace, and Misael herded me toward the door. Bish took my hand, leading us out of the VIP area and into the main section of the club.

  My mind swam with dozens of different thoughts as we began to work our way through the press of bodies filling the dark, neon-lit club. I was a little worried about turning down Muse’s offered hospitality, but I didn’t think I needed another drink right now. The first one I’d had was already working its way through my system, making it hard to focus.

  Without even realizing I was doing it, I began to sway to the beat of the music as we moved through the club. The heavy, blaring dance music was distracting—the good kind of distraction. The kind that eased worries and melted away tension, the kind that let you just… exist a little in the moment, which was something I hadn’t done, let alone done well, in a long time. I hummed to the music, trying to find the beat to a song that I hadn’t heard before.

  We were about halfway across the dance floor when a sudden awareness prickled over my skin. My hand was linked with Kace’s, and my eyes had drifted half closed as the music overtook me, but now I blinked, glancing up.

  All three boys had stopped in their tracks and were watching me, their expressions heated, their gazes hungry.

  I flushed a little, embarrassed to have been caught slipping into my own world, dragged into an almost trance-like state by the music. I stopped dancing, but before I could nudge Kace to start walking again, Misael’s hands found my hips, his body pressing close to mine.

  “What do ya know?” He grinned. “The Princess has some pretty damn hot moves.”

  Our bodies began to move together, called by the music, just like they had the first time he’d danced with me in the warehouse where the Lost Boys hung out. Only this time, there wasn’t an ounce of restraint in my movements, no hint of shame or fear. I let my instincts take over completely, grinding my hips against Misael’s, following his lead.

  The other two boys stepped closer, joining in as the beat throbbed around us.

  I had danced more this semester than I ever had in my life up to this point—not counting the ballet lessons I’d taken when I was little. School parties and outings to the warehouse had given me opportunities to dance with all of the boys, but those experiences didn’t hold a candle to the fever dream that was being in a club surrounded by hundreds of other people, hot, sweaty—drunk—grinding and gyrating to the same music.

  In the chaos that was a club dance floor, making heads or tails of the people around was nearly impossible, but that was part of the appeal of it all. Kace was dancing behind me, Misael in front. One switching with Bishop, someone’s hands on me, my hips, my curves. I felt their lips at the nape of my neck and couldn’t help but move my body more and more sinfully with every touch, every whisper of “beautiful,” every stray curse muttered in my ear as I rubbed against someone the right way.

  The buzz of the alcohol faded as we danced, replaced by something even more potent—a slow-burning arousal that grew with every song. I had never felt anything quite like this, and it drove me crazy. It drove the boys crazy too.

  The breaking point came when I was sandwiched between Bishop and Kace. Bishop was behind me, and I could feel him pressed to my backside. Kace was in front, and his own desire was evident as he ground against me. He leaned into my neck, biting down on the soft, tender skin before kissing the sting away.

  “I think we need to get outta here.”

  None of us needed to be told twice. We were all wired, wanting, and high-strung.

  We practically bolted from the club. The night air was cold against my heated, sweat-sheened skin, but it did little to cool down the heady arousal coursing through me, and it certainly didn’t quell anything the boys were feeling either.

  We walked to the car at a quick pace, laughing and breathless. There would be so much to sort through when we sat down later to consider everything Muse had told us. But for the moment, none of that mattered.

  There was just the bite of the wind on my skin, the heat burning in my core, and the three gorgeous, dangerous boys surrounding me.

  It felt wild.

  Amazing.

  Perfect.

  Twenty

  We fell into Bishop’s car like we’d been blown in by the wind, and no one seemed to question it when I crawled into the backseat with Kace and Misael rather than taking my usual spot up front.

  Bishop caught my gaze in the rearview mirror as he started the car and gunned the engine, peeling out of the parking lot.

  Heat reflected in his hazel eyes as he watched Misael lean over to press kisses along my neck and Kace drop his head to my chest, trailing his lips and tongue over my collarbone before dipping down to trace the swell of my breasts exposed by the neckline of my dress.

  Not for the first time, it struck me how strange and wonderful it was that these boys could share me so fluidly. That Bish could watch his
friends devour me with appreciation in his eyes rather than resentment or jealousy. That the three of them were so close they were almost like extensions of each other, and yet each boy was utterly his own person too.

  My head fell to one side, giving Misael more access, and I bit my lip as I gazed up at Bishop, not bothering to hide or try to contain my reactions—I wanted him to see just what the other two boys were doing to me, how they were making me feel.

  “So fucking sweet,” Misael murmured against my skin, and even as he said the words, I felt his hand trailing up my thigh, sliding under the hem of my dress to find the dampness of my panties.

  I moaned into his mouth, then yelped as Kace moved lower, clamping his teeth around my nipple and biting hard enough to make a shock of sensation zap through me like lightning.

  “Fuck. I have to taste you.”

  The desperation in Misael’s voice made me smile. I liked making him come a little unhinged, I liked seeing what need for me did to him—to all of them. I wasn’t quite sure how the fuck he’d manage it in the cramped confines of the car, but I should never have doubted the Lost Boys’ determination.

  Kace wrapped his arms around my waist, hauling me across the seat until I was cradled against him as he leaned against the back door on the driver’s side. My legs splayed across the worn vinyl, and Misael settled himself between them finding just enough room to drop his head between my legs.

  It was a tight fit for all of us, but any worry about whether he was comfortable or not fled my mind as he pulled my panties aside and ran his tongue up my slit, lapping and then flicking my clit with the tip.

  He wrapped his lips around me, kissing my folds and tasting every bit of me, and I reached behind me to hook a hand around the back of Kace’s neck, craning my neck and angling my head for a kiss. I kissed him just like Misael was kissing me.