“You think I’m the nice guy?” he asked with clear distaste.
Bonham hated that label. I think in some ways, he wanted to be considered just as fierce as Rogue.
“Not all the time,” I replied, not really sure why I felt the need to soften the blow to his perceived ego.
He set the tray down on my nightstand and ran a hand through his blond hair, eyeing my crop top and tight pants with appreciation. “I’ve convinced Rogue to let you go, but we needed collateral that you aren’t going to say shit,” Bonham began.
My stomach dropped. “What kind of collateral?”
“The kind that brings you down with us.” Bonham took out his phone and started swiping through the photos, pausing when he got to the one he wanted. “This photo is on an encrypted server. If you should try to out us, we’ll bring you down, too.”
He turned the screen so that I could see, and I gasped once I saw what was there. It was me, at the lake with them. I was in Rogue’s bloody t-shirt, and the angle made it look like I was helping them toss the body into the water. I looked rough and angry. One look at that photo, and I’d be thrown in prison.
“It’s a good shot, right? Guess it’s a good thing that Godfrey likes souvenirs.”
“I hate you guys,” I finally whispered while trying to think of an ending that didn’t result in me going to prison. I was an accomplice, now. There was no going back.
“That’s the point, Scar,” Bonham said before reaching over to hand me a delicate tea cup. It was made the way I’d always liked it. Milk and honey. I almost reached for it, but then something about his phrasing made me pause.
“What do you mean ‘that’s the point?’ ” I asked, making Bonham’s perfect face twist into a split second of fear. “You know...that guy last night was talking about me. Is something else going on?” I asked, and I hated how easily hope bled into my words.
Bonham pressed his hand over my mouth, holding it tightly against my lips. “Stop,” he ordered, before looking around the room. “Just stop. Please.” For a moment, I saw a glimpse of the friend he once was. But then it was gone just as quickly, and I was sure I’d imagined it.
I shook my head, glaring at him before biting his finger. He yelped in shock and then grabbed my shoulders and pushed me down into the mattress with his body. “You infuriate me. Stop having so much faith in us,” Bonham growled angrily. “Stop trying to see the good. Because you’ll just be disappointed. You want to know why we started hating you?”
Yes. That was all I wanted. I was afraid to answer, because if he knew just how much I craved clarity, he might not give it to me.
“We hate you because we finally started seeing you for who you really are. You were a proud little bitch, thinking you had us wrapped around your finger. You got cocky. You thought you’d have us forever, and we realized that you were just like every other Heir Chaser in this town. Desperate and pathetic.”
Those words were the very worst thing he could have ever said. I never wanted to be like the girls that chased them down. They were like my mama—opportunists who were addicted to power and influence. Those girls used them. And yeah, they used them right back, but it didn’t make it right.
Bonham held me down even tighter, and when I squeezed my eyes shut to avoid his angry glare, all I saw was that clear photo they got of me, helping them put mystery man at the bottom of a lake.
Fuck. He was right. I really was pathetic and desperate. I was willing to let murderers free for a chance to return to their good graces. I was no better than the Stephanie Palmisano’s of the world.
“Now get the fuck out of here. Don’t say a goddamn word, or you’ll end up going down with us. There were only five witnesses, Babe. And we’ll tell the world that for one night, you were an Heir.”
Bonham got up, adjusted his jeans, and then walked out the door. I guess tea time was over.
I pushed myself off the bed and was out the door and down the stairs before anyone could stop me. Of course Rogue would keep me hostage here until they had the perfect leverage to hold over me. Now that I knew that photograph existed, they were safe. But would I really have ever spoken up anyway? No, probably not.
Once I was out the front door, I didn’t stop or wait. I couldn’t call my driver, anyway. I’d forgotten my phone at Clay’s house during Rogue’s Mr. Kool Aid appearance. I made my way down the driveway, past a row of hundred thousand dollar vehicles. I wasn’t going to ask for a ride from any of those assholes. They wouldn’t give me one, anyway.
It took me forty minutes to make it home. My bare feet were blistered and blackened from the asphalt. Just another way that I was stained with their wrath. Exhausted, tired, and covered in sweat, I pulled myself up the steps to our sprawling colonial and nearly cried at the feel of carpet beneath my toes.
I made my way upstairs to my room, leaving black footprints behind me. Our maid would probably punish me for that by filling my bathroom with one-ply toilet paper for the next month.
Once in my room, I yanked off the tight, sweaty clothing, leaving them in the trash bin as I passed by. In my ensuite bathroom, I turned the dial on the shower to cold and hauled myself inside.
The icy water felt good against my fevered skin, and I closed my eyes, bracing my hands against the tile. The problem was, every time my eyes were shut, all I could see was them. Rogue kissing me. Luis's smirk. Godfrey’s calculating gaze, and the flash of uncertainty in Bonham’s eyes.
“Stop it,” I told myself, hitting my head against the tile. “Stop it.”
They weren’t saving me from anything. They weren’t my friends. The guy that they’d killed had nothing to do with me. They thought I was pathetic. I had to stop this constant hoping, or it was going to be the death of me.
I forced my eyes open, focusing on the dark gray veins in the marble tile. “I am nothing to them,” I reminded myself. “And they are nothing to me.”
I made myself say it a hundred more times.
Funny, I almost convinced myself that I meant it.
Chapter Fifteen
“Scarlett! Answer the door!”
My mama’s voice jolted me awake. I sat up, slightly discombobulated. I looked around my room, wondering why I was sleeping in the middle of the day and why my feet hurt. But then it all came crashing back down into my memory, and I cringed.
When my mama yelled again, I threw the covers off myself. I was still naked from the shower, too tired afterward to get dressed.
I yanked on a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top, my hair feeling like a total rat’s nest, and yanked open my door. I could hear Mama talking to her masseuse in the other room. Heaven forbid she get off her pampered ass to get the door.
I took the stairs two at a time, hoping that whoever it was would leave quickly so I could go back to sleep again. I wasn’t ready to face reality. If I could have my way, I’d prefer to just sleep all the way until Monday and then get on the plane, leaving behind Savannah, Georgia for good.
But when I opened the door, I already knew that wasn’t going to be the case.
“What do you want?”
Bonham smirked. “Is that any way to greet me?”
“Nope. But this is.” I started to slam the door in his face, but he was too quick for me, and he caught it in his grip.
“Now, now Miss Livingston. That’s not very ladylike of you. What would your mama say?”
“Bonham Brodie? Is that you?”
I turned to see my mama walking down the stairs, her male masseuse trailing after her. Based on the flush of her cheeks, it was obvious that she’d had a happy ending.
Bonham stepped aside for the masseuse to pass, and then flashed my mama his golden boy grin and offered his hand as he stepped inside the house and shut the door smoothly behind him. “Ma’am. You look ravishing as usual.”
My mama was dressed in a silk wrap dress that accentuated her assets. She gave Bonham a smile and placed her hand in his. “Oh, stop,” she laughed as he kissed her knuckles. “
What brings you here?”
“Well, ma’am, I was just telling your daughter here the good news.”
I felt my mama look at me curiously, but my eyes were narrowed on him.
“Oh? And what’s that?” she asked.
Bonham reached into his back pocket and pulled out an envelope. I didn’t take it right away, and my mama laughed uncomfortably. “Scarlett. Where are your manners? Take the envelope.”
Bonham’s eyes danced with mirth.
I snatched the envelope from him and tore it open. Inside was the kind of paper that only rich assholes use. Thick, embossed, and signed at the bottom with real ink, my brown eyes flew over the paper, and the blood drained from my face.
“Well? What is it?” my mama said, growing impatient.
She didn’t wait for me to answer, but when my arms started to drop, she swooped in and grabbed the paper to read it for herself.
Junior Debutante League.
Cotillion classes, dancing classes, help put on the debutante ball.
Her eyes widened, and she looked at Bonham. “You’re inviting Scarlett to be a Junior Debutante? But...only the best families get invited.”
Bonham’s grin widened. “Yes, ma’am. My mama organizes it, you know. I just knew Scarlett here was the perfect candidate. She’s always been so charming. She’ll need to start her cotillion classes immediately, since the season’s already started. That’s why I came to deliver the letter myself.”
I could feel my mama’s stare boring into the back of my head, and my face heated. Bonham had me right where he wanted me. With a single letter, he made it so my mama would cave, making me stay here. “Of course, I know it’s customary for the debutante to ask her date, but Rogue Kelly expressed interest in being her date to the event.”
At that, my mama’s eyes flashed a bright shade. She was practically glowing at the opportunity to climb the social ladder, but I was still frozen to the spot. Rogue wanted to accompany me? Was this some sort of trick? An added layer to the manipulation? They were taunting me with something my mama wanted for me, but I knew it was just another game. Rogue would rather stab himself in the eye with a spork than attend something so public with me.
“Oh,” Bonham said, fake disappointment crossing his features. “I just realized, you’re leaving on Monday.”
I barely contained an eye roll.
My mama quickly perked up. “Oh, the boarding school called. They filled her spot, it seems. We’re on the waiting list for a while, so her overseas trip has been postponed.” Her words were rushed out, like she couldn’t spit the lie out fast enough. As expected, Bonham’s face twisted into a satisfied grin. He had my mama right where he wanted her.
“Well, that’s a relief. These invitations are very exclusive. I know lots of local girls dying to get their hands on them.”
I cringed. All the girls that would be in attendance were Heir Chasers. Debutante balls were all about showing off. It was about etiquette, yes, but it was also about presenting your pristine breeding for the world to see and selling your daughter to whatever trophy-wife-seeking schmuck had the thickest wallet.
Stephanie would be there, as well as her group of ladder climbing trolls. They’d spend the entire time talking about what they’d wear and what they’d do when it was their time to be debutantes once we were in college. It would be all about what they were wearing, who they were blowing, and what wealthy last name they were going to latch onto.
“No,” I said with a determined shake of my head. Bonham’s confident grin faltered.
“No?” Mama asked in disbelief. “What do you mean, no?” She was moments from grabbing my shoulders and shaking me, but I held my ground. I wasn’t going to do this. I wasn’t going to play their manipulative games. I was done.
“I’m not doing this. I don’t want to join the Junior Debutant’s League.”
At my words, my mother’s face went bright red with anger, but before she could berate me, Bonham interrupted.
“Mrs. Livingston, if I may?” Bonham asked, before pulling his phone out and typing something. “Maybe I could convince her?”
Mama looked between us for a moment, wondering if she should send Bonham away and make me run til I puked. But his boyish charm and influential last name won in the end. “Yes, of course. Please talk some sense into her,” she huffed before leaving the room.
Once she was out of sight, Bonham turned around and headed for the front door. “Where are you going? I thought you were going to convince me?” I asked in disbelief, but still, Bonham didn’t respond. Something wasn’t right.
Then, he opened the front door, revealing an angry Rogue waiting on my doorstep. “Her mom’s gone. Do your worst,” Bonham said with a grin before going outside.
I stood there with my arms crossed over my body as I stared at Rogue. It had been a long couple of days, but I liked knowing that I’d seen him more this weekend than I had for the past several months.
“You giving Bonham trouble, Scar?” he asked, before coming inside.
He looked around my house with the same familiarity on his face that I’d had when I walked into the Kelly Estate last night. I wondered if he was looking at the hutch in my mama’s sitting room and remembering how we used to hide behind it.
I replied with a shrug. “Not anymore than usual.”
Rogue walked into my kitchen and opened the fridge, cringing when he saw the various bottles of juice. Mama was doing a cleanse again, which meant I was suffering alongside her. “Do you have anything edible here?”
“Nothing you’d like,” I replied. “What are we doing Rogue? Why all the games? You have me where you want me. You have the…” I lowered my voice after watching to make sure Mama wasn’t listening. “...evidence you need. I know it was you. I know you told Bonham to get his mama to invite me to be a Junior Debutante. What I can’t figure out, is why? You should want me to leave.”
He just shrugged unapologetically. “I want you close. I want to make sure you don’t get any funny ideas,” he said, before pulling carrot juice from the fridge and unscrewing the cap. After sniffing it, he wrinkled up his nose and went to pour the orange liquid down the drain. Mama spent forty-five dollars on that shit. It felt kind of good to see it go to waste.
“And exactly how close do you want me, Rogue?” I asked, keeping my voice light, but giving him a look that meant more than my words could convey.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you have the upper hand.”
I smiled at that. I was making him uncomfortable. Good. I stepped closer and he braced his back against the kitchen counter. “I’ll stay. But I have some conditions.”
At that, Rogue Kelly laughed. His face was full of humor and the chuckles resonating through his muscular chest were so hard that his shoulders bounced. “Conditions?”
Tilting my head to the side, I pressed closer, just enough so that my hips were against his, and my chest lay on his stomach as I looked up at him. That familiar heat warmed me from within, and I knew that if he shifted his knee between my thighs, he’d feel how wet I was. “I want back in. You want me here? Fine. But I’m in with you guys again.”
A look of surprise, then fury, crossed his features. “I told you, you’re done.”
“That’s fine. I can be done behind closed doors. I’m not going to beg to be your friend for real, when it’s clear you don’t want me. But these fights are starting to really inconvenience me. I’m tired of being Smith Academy’s punching bag. I want the Heir’s protection. Out of school, you can go back to thinking I’m a nobody. You can push me away. Pretend I don’t exist. But the bullying stops now. It’s looking bad for my mama, and I’m not going to keeping holding back.”
“You can’t be in,” Rogue replied, a genuine look of disappointment on his face before he grew angry again. He grabbed my hips so he could have the upper hand, and pulled me forward before bending over to whisper in my ear. “I don’t think I cou
ld pretend to like you, Scar. It would be too difficult.”
Twist that knife, Rogue. Make me bleed.
“But,” he began, while pulling away. “I can work behind the scenes to make things a little easier on you. No one will mess with you. Just...stay. Do this stupid Junior Debutante thing. I get to keep my eye on you, and you don’t have to move to fucking Switzerland. We both win.”
“Fine,” I choked out, hating the distance between us. I was getting lost in his dark eyes, and it made me sick. Bonham was right. I was just like the other Heir Chasers.
“Cotillion classes start tomorrow afternoon,” Rogue said, before leaning in once more to whisper his threat across my skin, “see you there, Trash.”
Chapter Sixteen
“And then I got a picture of her dressed to impress.”
I heard Stephanie’s nasally voice before I rounded the corner to get to my locker. There she was with her group of Heir Chasers, her back perched against my locker. Of course.
She flashed her phone to show the screen to her little friends, and they giggled and gave each other knowing glances. I already knew it was about me before I approached. Stephanie wasn’t exactly subtle. She liked her jabs to be obvious.
When she noticed me, she perked up and elbowed the girl next to her. “Look who it is! Trash Whore herself.”
I rolled my eyes and stopped right in front of her. “Get away from my locker, or I’ll punch you again, and this time, Rogue Kelly won’t be here to save you.”
Her cocky expression faltered for a second, and this close, I could see the concealer caked over her eyes and cheeks, covering up the bruises that my fist left. A satisfied smirk came over me.
“You can’t touch me,” she spat. “Besides, I’m just showing everyone how good you looked Friday night after the Heirs dealt with you.”
She showed me her phone triumphantly, and on the screen, I saw a picture of me heading down the stairs, the trash bag still on my body. She must’ve been waiting for me, taking it before I had the chance to rip it off my body.
Cruel Page 9