I cringe at his back. In Blake terms, that was a big ‘FU.’ Any other time, I’d get a grin, a ‘love you’ or some ridiculous joke about being safe and using protection. The fact that I didn’t get any of that tells me he’s real dirty with me. He’s never liked having people breathing down his neck and me setting the standards for Blake with Shay did exactly that, but I meant what I said. One day when he’s playing in the NBA, getting checks bigger than he could ever dream about, and has fans screaming his name, then he’ll understand why I did it. Hell, he’ll even thank me for it, but until then, I’m going to have to deal with the fact that he’s a sixteen-year-old boy and all he wants to do is screw around and party.
We hear the familiar sound of the door clicking shut behind him immediately followed by Shay’s beaming welcome, and the second we can, we make our escape. Maze and I walk along the curb of the road and considering I haven’t given this place enough of a chance to go exploring, I have no idea where I’m heading so I follow her lead.
We walk for ten minutes toward the old abandoned basketball courts as Maze chats about the kids at school, still filling me in on all the ins and outs of the people I’ll soon get to know. We stay in the shadows as Maze lights up the joint and inhales deeply. Her eyes close as she takes her hit and on opening them, she passes the joint to me.
I bring the joint to my lips and much like Maze, I take a long drag. I slowly let out my breath and watch the cloud of smoke disappearing into the breezy night air. “Shit, this is good stuff,” I commend, passing it back. “Where’d you score this?”
“Robbie McDowell. He’s a junior. He makes it his business to get to know everyone so don’t be surprised if he comes and says ‘hi’ over the next few days. He just wants to scope you out, see if he can get any cash out of you. He’s got some good hash, but don’t try his blow. I don’t know where the hell he gets it, but he overcharges and it’s shit. It’ll fuck you up and not in a good way.”
“Noted,” I say, wide-eyed, wondering why the hell it’s taken her up until now to divulge on the most crucial information I’m going to need while staying here. Though her warning falls on deaf ears. I don’t do cocaine or any of the hard shit, only the occasional joint and only if I really need to relax. Tonight’s smoke is just for fun.
We find an old park bench and drop down, making sure to keep in the shadows despite the place practically being a ghost town. We chat and get to know each other and after ten minutes, I hear the familiar sound of a basketball on the pavement and I’m instantly thrown back in time. Blake used basketball as his drug to help get past the ache of missing mom and dad. Every night I would hear him playing ball, I’d listen to the echo of the ball bouncing off the pavement, the sound of his sneakers as he ran up and down the court, and the familiar sound of the ball falling through the net.
Despite Blake still practicing every day, it’s a noise I no longer listen out for. Now, I listen for the sound of monsters creeping down the hall, I listen for my door handle turning, I listen for the sound of uninvited men trying to steal what’s not theirs. The only sound that can possibly bring me any peace is the soft whoosh of my blade releasing from my pocketknife. That sound has what it takes to help me breathe. It’s my safety net and I’ll never be without it. Never again.
I hear the player jogging up the court and it’s followed by the familiarity of the guy leaping into the sky and dunking the ball into the hoop. The sound almost has a smile coming to my face. It reminds me of a time where things were different, where I didn’t have my brother’s future on my shoulders and even knew what a real monster was, but the ball falls through a chained net, making a harsh jingle and the memory fades. Blake only ever played with rope nets because that was the best money could buy. Oh, how things have changed.
For a moment, I wonder if it’s Blake out on the court and if he somehow escaped Shaylee’s clutches and followed us here, but he wouldn’t do that. He’s too nice. It must be some random guy…maybe not even a high school student as I’m sure the whole team would be at Fischer’s place, the whole team apart from Blake seeing as though his big sister sent him home early.
I have to admit, I was surprised the team was even hanging out tonight considering it’s a Monday. Had he asked me on Friday or Saturday night then it could have made complete sense, but a Monday…kind of weird.
Whoever’s out there continues playing while Maze and I zone out, enjoying our joint while the world goes on around us. Ten minutes turn into thirty and before I know it, nearly two hours have passed. I haven’t gotten any texts from Blake so I’m assuming everything is fine at home and I haven’t been sprung, but we’re definitely pushing the limits. I don’t know if I can completely trust Shay and Ben, but I certainly respect them and because of that, I think it’s time to start heading home.
Maze and I get up from the bench and start walking back past the basketball court and out to the main road. My eyes are firmly on the ground, hoping I don’t trip and fall, but clearly, Maze’s eyes are on something else. “Damn, I know I fucking hate the guy but if he wanted to slam me up against one of these lamp post, I’m not going to say no.”
A bad feeling settles into the pit of my stomach and my curiosity gets the best of me. I glance up only to find none other than Slade Cruz staring back at me.
Fucking perfect.
We go to keep walking but his hands shoot out and I have just enough time to throw my hands out and catch the basketball that’s coming full force into my chest. Pain rocks through me but I put my game face on and throw it straight back, hoping I’m able to do at least a little damage.
Considering the direction he’s coming from and the fact that he comes fully equipped with a basketball, clearly he was the guy who was just using the court.
Slade doesn’t dare take his eyes off me as he stares through narrowed eyes, the disgust and annoyance clear on his face Once again, the way he looks at me makes me feel so much less than what I am and I absolutely hate it. He pinches the ball out of the air with ease and smirks at my pathetic shot.
Maze sucks in a breath. “Oh, fuck.”
I let out a sigh. It seems Maze is all talk and no play. I guess I’ll be handling this one on my own.
Slade props the ball against his hip and strides forward, not once taking his eyes from mine. I mentally go over our little discussion by my locker this morning instead of focusing on the loose basketball jersey that’s showing off a body that any woman would be thrilled to be beneath. “I thought I told you to leave,” he spits, stepping right into my personal space so that he looks down on me just as he had this morning.
A smile rips across my face as I feel that same anger I’d felt this morning wash over me and cloud the pain within my soul. Anger isn’t exactly a great thing to allow myself to feel, it’s reckless and dangerous, but anything is better than the memories of the past thirteen years.
“Are you hard of hearing?” I question, raising my chin and reminding him that he’s going to have to try a shitload harder to intimidate me. “I’m almost certain that I made myself perfectly clear this morning, you know when your friend was seconds away from betraying you and begging me to suck his dick.”
“Damian can fuck with whoever he wants,” Slade snaps back at me as Maze seems to take a step back toward the house behind her. “What? You think him treating you like some cheap slut is going to hurt me? You couldn’t be more wrong. If anything, why don’t you go right ahead and let him fuck you, show everyone around here what kind of girl you are.”
I step impossibly closer as the anger bubbles into something more, hoping this bullshit isn’t going to cause the nosey people in the homes around us to call the police on our delinquent asses. “You’ve got no fucking clue what kind of girl I am.”
“Oooh,” he booms with laughter. “Did I hit a nerve?”
“I’m sure you couldn’t hit anything.”
Slade drops his face beside mine and I feel his breath on my neck, but that’s not all I feel. His hard bod
y presses up against mine and the flood gates open wide, making me want to hate myself. His voice comes low and enticing, almost like a needy whisper. “Want to find out?”
Goosebumps instantly spread over my skin as I rear back and slam my hand into his chest, forcing him back a step. What the fuck was that? Why is my body reacting like this to him?
“Please,” I scoff, hating the torturous thoughts swarming within me. “Like you could satisfy a woman. Just the thought of getting with you has my pussy drying up.”
“You’re a liar, Virago. You want me. I can see your nipples screaming to be touched. Tell me, you like it rough, don’t you? You like it when your pussy is eaten and torn apart from behind. You like it fast and hard. You like to scream until your lungs give out.”
Maze starts panting beside me as though she’s imagining it while I shake my head. This guy has me all wrong and he’s going to get a rude shock when he realizes who he’s fucking with. “You know what?” I say, stepping into him and getting a thrill out of the way his eyes widen. I’m unpredictable and he doesn’t like it. Most girls would have shrunk back but I’m meeting him face to face with a challenge and that’s more intimidating to him than anything he’s ever endured before. “I do like it rough. I like it so hard and fast that amateurs like you couldn’t even dream of keeping up. I can practically feel my clit trying to claw its way inside my body at the idea of your hands on me. Oh, hold up…do you know what a clit is and where to find it? You seem like the kind of guy who wouldn’t.”
His tongue runs over his bottom lip and I force myself not to drool. While I’m still incredibly pissed off with this guy, I’m also extremely turned on and I can hardly find that familiar ache in my chest. This guy really is my new drug.
“I get it,” he says, his voice low and menacing. “You’re new. You haven’t heard the stories about who you’re fucking with, but you will and you’ll quickly realize that you should quit while you’re behind. This is your last fucking chance, Virago. Leave. Get the fuck out of my school and out of my town.”
I laugh, making his glare so much worse that Maze takes another step back. I’ve spent my life bending to the will of others and it stops now. I won’t do it again and Slade Fucking Cruz is going to learn that the hard way.
“I don’t know what I did or said to make you hate me so much, but I don’t care. This is my shot at a new life and you better fucking believe that I won’t be giving it up for anybody, especially some high school, jock loser like you. You don’t scare me, Slade. You’re a fucking dot on the map compared to the monsters I’ve dealt with. I’m staying and you better get used to it. This is my school now. My town.”
With that, I blow him the sweetest little kiss and walk away while Maze gapes at my back and hurries to catch up. “Okay,” she says after she gains control of her thoughts. “I knew you were a bad bitch, but I didn’t realize you were suicidal.”
“You’re either on the train or you can jump.”
“Oh, I’m so fucking on the train, but I have one little question.”
“Dare I ask?”
Maze’s eyes flick to me before going straight back to the sidewalk in front of her. “What the fuck is ‘Virago?’”
I shake my head, equally as perplexed. “I’ve got no fucking clue but something tells me I’m not going to like it.”
Maze pulls out her phone and I watch as she types ‘virago’ into her google search. The results come up and we reach the boundary line for my home and she cringes. “Yeah…you’re right. You’re not going to like it.”
“Maze,” I warn.
“Virago,” she says as though she’s about to address the class with a presentation that she’s worked all of two seconds on. “A domineering, violent, or bad-tempered woman.”
“On second thought, maybe he knows exactly who he’s messing with.”
Chapter 5
Three Years Ago
I sit at the long, twenty-seater dining table as my adoptive father, Lucien Valentine, stands at the head, toasting his business partners for another job well done. I have no idea what the job was or if it was even legal. I’m only fourteen, but I’m old enough to know that he’s a bad man. A very bad man.
I’ve tried listening in on the details of their deals before but I’ve never learned much. Lucien likes to use big, intimidating words that have no place in a child’s vocabulary. But what does it matter? I’m just a girl and girls aren’t privy to that information anyway. We’re here to be seen and not heard. My brother, on the other hand, he’s going to take over the family business one day. He’s their shining star while I’m probably going to be used for a deal or for breeding the next Valentine heir.
I hate it here. I always have. Blake and I don’t belong, but it’s not like we’ve got anywhere else to go. Blake doesn’t remember what happened. He was only three at the time, granted I was only four, but I was nearly five and I remember it like a movie that’s been playing on repeat since the day it happened. I remember their faces, their names, the way the kid begged not to do it. Blake wouldn’t remember the blood splattered on the wall or the way those strange men hauled us out of our home. Blake probably doesn’t even remember mom and dad. In fact, I’m pretty sure he considers Lucien and Maria our real parents and I don’t have the heart to break it to him. Maybe when we’re older.
We were stolen, or bought, or…I don’t know. But what I do know is that my parents, my real parents, were murdered in cold blood and a week later, we showed up here. That couldn’t be legal, right? Something shady must have gone down. No kids would ever be relocated to people like this especially when we most likely have more family back home…or maybe they didn’t want us.
Lucien’s loud, booming ‘cheers’ has my attention snapping back to the head of the table to where he holds his glass up, high above our heads. Every single one of our guests raise their glasses while Blake and I do the same.
I can’t help but notice Maria, our adoptive mother, beaming up at her husband from his side, as proud as punch. She’s just as bad as he is, in fact, probably worse because she turns a blind eye to all the bad he does and doesn’t do a damn thing about it, all while pretending to be a perfect mother.
Maria Valentine is all about the looks, what other school mothers think of her, what her hoity-toity country club friends think, what the next-door neighbor’s plumber thinks. She’s the worst, and so is all her plastic surgery. To her, everything has to be perfect and if something doesn’t fit in with her lifestyle, then it simply doesn’t exist.
I can’t wait for the day Lucien gets caught and she’s forced to admit to the world that things aren’t as she makes them seem. Geez, I can’t imagine how it’s going to go down when the world realizes we aren’t her real kids. That’s going to be an exciting day.
My glass is placed back down on the table and I concentrate solely on the five-course meal that I’m about to devour. There’s nothing worse than these business dinners, especially when the eyes of all Lucien’s partners are on me. Ever since my body started to change, I’ve noticed it getting worse and worse. The way they look at me…it’s almost as though they know some sort of dirty secret, but it’s fine. These dinners never last long, at least, my role. I’m only expected to show my face during dinner and then I can scram while Lucien and Maria continue to entertain.
Two hours later, I lay on my stomach in the very center of my bed. My legs swing back and forth as I look down at my phone, chuckling as I read over my best friend’s text. Luce and I have been joined at the hip since the day I started school. She’s everything to me and I don’t see a day where that would ever change.
My hair hangs in wet ringlets over my shoulder, dampening my bed as my music plays softly in the background. A knock sounds at the door and I reluctantly look up from my phone to see one of our housekeepers peeking her head through the door. “Excuse me, Miss Skylah,” she says, bowing her head. “Your presence is requested in your father’s study.”
My jaw clenches. I hate
it when they refer to him as my father. He’s not my father. I had one of those and he was brutally murdered in front of my eyes. I shake my head. “I’m in my pajamas, I can’t see him now.”
“Miss…,” she cringes. “I insist.”
I let out a sigh. In other words, she’d lose her job if she didn’t come through with his request and despite this request being all on me, she’s the one who’d suffer the consequences. I pull myself up off my bed and toss my phone down.
“Do you know what he wants?” I ask as she holds the door for me.
“I’m sorry, Miss. I do not.”
Of course. I don’t know why I’d ask such a stupid question.
Wanting to get this over and done with, I skip past her and throw myself down the stairs. I never got a chance to respond to Luce’s text and if I don’t respond within three seconds, she’s bound to send another, demanding an explanation. She’s going to make an incredible CEO, boss bitch one day.
I hurry through the big house while doing my best not to run. Maria will have a hissy-fit if I’m caught running inside, you know, all that expensive china that was worth so much more than me. She’s probably more worried that I’d run into her and cause one of her fake titties to burst.
I get to my father’s study and throw the door open only to find he’s not alone. There’s a man here, one of his business partners from dinner. They’re both sucking on cigars and the room is filled with smoke. It’s a freaking hotbox in here, it’s disgusting. The smell instantly fills my lungs and I struggle to breathe without succumbing to a coughing fit.
“What are you wearing?” Lucien demands in distaste, standing from his expensive chesterfield couch as his eyes rake up and down my body with strange darkness that puts me on edge.
I glance down, unsure of why he sounds so put off. It’s not like he’s never seen me in my pajamas before. It’s cold out so I’ve got my winter pajamas on. I’m completely covered up and respectable. I don’t understand. “They’re my pajamas,” I explain. “I was just about to go to bed when you called for me.”
Ugly Girl: Aston Creek High (Book 1) Page 4