Hooked on the Game
Page 2
"He said if I stayed until the start of next semester, he'd buy me a home after I graduate college, too. Wherever I choose. It's not exactly something I can afford to pass up. Not all of us have a trust."
"Well, hell. I'll buy you a home after you graduate. There. Problem solved."
"I already gave him my word. To some people, that means something. You had three days to try and make this right. You didn't want to, and now your father has been too nice to me to screw him over."
"Make it right?" he asks, laughing incredulously. "I didn't bulldoze your house. The frat boys, who I didn't even invite, did it. Why the hell am I being tortured? Because my family has the most money, that's why. You see dollar signs, Cherry. That's it."
"My name isn't Cherry. It's Raya. And no, that's not it. You're an inconsiderate son of a bitch who has never once given a damn about anyone other than yourself and what you want to do."
I hadn't meant to go all crazy-rant-girl on him, but I'm sick of him and everyone like him. Entitled pricks have done nothing but piss me off since I came to California. Sterling Shore, though beautiful, is loaded with nothing but money-hungry people who judge you after two seconds. All they need to know is your parents are nobodies with no money, and then you're blacklisted.
"Tell me how you really feel. Don't hold back on my account, even though you don't know the first damn thing about me," he sardonically mumbles.
I roll my eyes. "I know all I need to."
You're rich, arrogant, and shallow. What more is there to know?
He pulls into a parking lot, squeals to a stop, and hops out before I even get unbuckled. I stare up at the enormous store as I climb out, trying not to let my mouth flap agape. Shit. I didn't realize Mr. Colton was Paul Colton, owner of the most coveted fashion line. I'm way out of my depth here.
I swallow hard, wondering how in the hell I'm going to be able to fit into any of these clothes. I've seen his models on TV. They eat air for breakfast and ice for lunch. There's no way.
Before I got here, I thought a size four was a good size. And then I saw the natives wearing a size negative-triple-zero, or something crazy like that. The girls here look like walking beanpoles. I never had a problem with my curves or my chest until this place. It's amazing that big chests have been popular forever, but the second my breasts fill out, small chests come into style. My luck. Go figure.
I'll bust a seam in anything this store has to offer. Something tells me Kade is going to revel in my humiliation.
When I walk inside, I'm met with a smiling woman with bright eyes. "You must be Raya. Mr. Colton called to tell me you might be stopping by. I've got a wide selection already set up for you," she says, sounding overly eager to impress.
Her eyes slide up and down my body, making me feel uncomfortable. She's probably realizing just how badly these clothes are going to fit.
"I think I can add a few more things that will go well with these," she says, pushing up on my breasts and startling me into a squeal.
"Sorry," she chuckles while moving her hands away
The fever invades my cheeks as I blush, and she walks off. A smug, almost taunting grin is playing on Kade's face when my eyes find him. He's sitting in the corner in one of the recliners, feigning interest in a magazine.
"Not used to being felt up, Raya?" he asks, keeping his eyes on the page before he flips it. "With a shining personality like yours, I would've assumed no one could resist."
I just scowl at him. I'm sick of his snarky remarks. He's going to make my life hell until I move out. Maybe that's his game. I can't let him get to me, because I'm not going to make a deal and then back out.
"Raya?" the woman calls. "You ready?"
I turn away from the ass who's still smirking, and I head to the back to follow the sound of her voice. This store seems endless, but all of the women's stuff is right here in this area.
Her heels clank against the marble floors as she struts toward a large dressing room. There's a couch in it. Really? This dressing room is bigger than my bedroom - the one that was destroyed.
"If you need any help, just call me. I'll go see if I can round up some more items. Mr. Colton said you might need some swimwear, so I've started acquiring some things."
I swallow hard, and then I scratch my side. It draws her attention, and a cringe comes over her face like she thinks I have cooties.
"Sorry. My house was ripped up by a bulldozer and my clothes got insulation on them. That's why I'm here."
She forces a tight smile, still seeming disgusted, and then nods before walking off. Great. Now I'm the dirty girl no one wants to be around.
I pull my shirt over my head, and then screech when a girl walks into the room with me.
"Sorry," she says, not sounding genuinely apologetic at all. Who the hell is this one? "Jessica said you needed swimsuits, so here you go."
She places a wide variety of stringy messes on the rack that is packed full of clothes. Then she pops back out as quickly as she came in. Does no one give a damn about my personal space?
I jerk a shirt on over my head before anyone else can come in. I'm almost afraid of taking my pants off. I had to buy new underwear since I didn't want to scratch... there. But the selection was limited based on my budget. I'd be humiliated if anyone saw these cotton monstrosities.
Without giving it too much more thought, I slip out of my jeans and into another pair without itchy particles all over them. Oh damn. I had no idea jeans could fit and feel like this. No wonder Paul Colton's business is thriving.
I give a twirl in front of the mirror to see my body has been transformed. I'll never be the same. I seriously just fell in love with a pair of jeans. I'm done. I don't want to try on anything else.
Reluctantly, I slip out of them and start making my way through the hordes of clothing. Right when I'm in the middle of pulling my shirt off again, a different girl pops in.
"Mr. Colton said you might need some dressier items in case you felt like attending some of his events, so I brought you these." She hangs up several dresses, and then she pulls out a selection of underwear from a rolling cart. "And he said you'd definitely need this stuff. Just turn around so I can put this on you and lace it up."
She holds out a white corset, but I shake my head. "Why would I need that?"
"Because you'll be wearing dresses that will require some... boost. You've got the ideal chest for this. It'll be perfect for slimming your waistline, too," she says, letting her eyes drift to my midsection.
Sure it doesn't look like I work out everyday, but it's flat enough. Just because she starves herself to be three sizes smaller doesn't mean I have to. Bitch.
I turn around, begrudgingly, and she slips it around my waist and pulls it up. With a flick of her wrist, she's gotten my bra off and tossed it to the floor. With the first tug of the laces, my breath heaves out of me. Bitch! With the second tug of the laces, I refrain from elbowing her in the nose. By the third tug, I'm condemning her to hell.
She's not being the least bit gentle. Does she not see all the monstrous bruises on me? That shit hurts.
After a few more laces, she's finally done, and I'm turning purple from lack of oxygen. She smiles, but her phone buzzes. "Mr. Colton," she says, seeming all too giddy. "Of course we are."
"Can't... breathe," I whisper, trying to draw her attention back to me, but she's too busy sucking up.
I start reaching for strings or laces or whatever they're called, but I can't get the knots undone. She walks out, abandoning me, and I start wheezing and straining harder. I've worn stuff similar to this on Halloween, but damn, this is the real deal. You could shift the placement of organs with this sadistic contraption.
"Help," I wheeze out, still struggling to undo the knot.
"Raya?" Kade's voice sounds out.
As much as I'd really rather wait on anyone - and I do mean anyone - else, it's either him or passing out.
"Can't breathe," I strain out again, and the door flies open.
He bursts out laughing when he sees what's going on, and then he shakes his head while coming to stand behind me. I need air more than I need dignity right now.
He pushes my hair to be over my shoulder, and I shiver when his hand touches my bare skin.
"Don't move," he says, still laughing as his deft fingers go to work.
He manages to loosen it up enough for me to catch the first breath of air, and I actually cough on the abundance of it.
"Don't ever let Sarah lace you up. She's got a nasty habit of making girls with curves pay."
"Holy shit," I cough out, feeling more relief when he loosens it higher, slowly separating all the laces. "It's not like I'm obese," I growl, finding anger when my panic dissolves.
"No," he says, seeming distracted. "Not even close."
I look up to the mirror to catch his eyes intensely focused on my lower back. His fingers have stopped unlacing the corset, and now his hands are gently placed on my hips as he examines something.
"Is this from the roof collapsing?" he asks, motioning to something I can't see.
"Is it another bruise?"
"It's a massive bruise," he huffs out, seeming to curse under his breath.
"Yeah. I've got them all over me."
It's then his eyes move to my shoulders where I've got several nasty ones. He lifts my hair up to start inspecting them as well. The heat from his breath caresses the skin of my neck, making me squirm. Uh-oh. No. I refuse to be turned on by this asshole. Not happening. No way.
I hold the corset to me as I step out of his grasp, and he lets his hands fall to his sides.
"They said you didn't get hurt," he murmurs, showing humanity flicker in his eyes for the first time.
"I didn't suffer anything major," I say while shrugging. "But when a roof collapses on you, it still tends to leave a mark. Thanks for the help, but I need to get redressed."
He hesitates to move at first, and his eyes fall to my chest. Fortunately, I have it very covered up.
"How much longer will you be?" he asks, letting his eyes come back up to meet mine.
"I'm done. I don't want this thing, and I don't really need the dresses. I don't go anywhere that I would need to wear something like that. Just the regular clothes for me."
"And the swimsuits," he adds, pointing toward the rack.
"No. I don't feel like swimming. Not my thing. Besides, I'd look like a punching bag with all these," I say, motioning to some of the bruises around my shoulders.
He frowns again, but walks out. I opt to go ahead and put on some of the jeans. It's hot as hell today, but there are too many bruises on my legs to wear shorts.
I slip into a shirt with quarter-length sleeves as I walk out holding a few of the items and the underwear I picked out. This will be enough. It's a week's worth of clothes. Once I get paid, I can go buy some more things from the cheaper stores.
Kade is leaned over the counter talking to the girl who showed me in. She's giggling and nodding, which forces me to roll my eyes. I plop down some of the stuff, carefully keeping the panties and bras tucked under the clothes.
"Is that all you're getting?" Kade asks, seeming confused.
"Yeah. And what I'm wearing," I say, motioning to the t-shirt and jeans I've got on.
The girl frowns when she sees the small selection, and Kade disappears. "Hurry up and ring out the underwear before he gets back," I whisper, causing her eyebrow to lift.
"Kade said his father gave you his card to get all you needed."
"This is all I need. More than I need. Please hurry."
She turns her nose up in disappointment as she rings it up, seeming to sigh every two seconds. "Add this to it," Kade says as he and two other girls put mounds of clothes on the top.
The girl behind the register gleams as she starts adding it in.
"What are you doing?" I whisper, scolding him with my eyes more than my voice.
He shrugs, seeming bored again. "I know my father better than you. He'd make me bring you back, and I've got shit to do today."
And he's back to being a dickhead. Great.
"I don't want all this."
"Too bad."
My mouth tries to fall to the floor when the giddy girl announces the ungodly price, but Kade pulls the credit card from my back pocket and hands it to her, acting as though she didn't ring out two new vehicles instead of some clothes.
"It's his store, Raya. It's not like he's not getting it all back," Kade chuckles out.
Why even pay at all?
He pushes my jaw back into place with his finger, and then he leans over me to take the card back from the girl.
"Let's go," he says, scooping up all my bags.
Some of the girls help carry out the bags, too, and Kade loads down the small trunk area. I reach in and grab some sunglasses from one of the bags. I don't know who put them in there, but I'm thankful because the sun is blinding me.
When Kade shuts the trunk, he surprises me by walking over to open my door.
"Come on," he urges impatiently.
The girls stare at us... Well, they stare at him. I get in, still dumbfounded by his one redeeming act of the day. Once my legs are safely tucked inside, he shuts the door, gives the swooning girls a wink, and then glides to his side of the car. Great. He even walks sexy. I wish I was still blinded by my fury enough to have not noticed that. He had to go and help me out of my corset and then open the door for me.
Silently, I start remembering all the reasons I've hated him over the past few months. Sleep deprivation. He's caused me to struggle many times on a test because of his obnoxious partying. I focus on that instead of the two acts of kindness.
"When's your next doctor's appointment?" he asks, surprising me again when he starts down the road.
"Um... I don't think there's going to be one. Since it was just some heavy bruising."
I don't know why I suddenly feel nervous. Damn it. I need my fury back. Do something bastard-like!
"What?" He seems ill, almost as if he's shocked my bruises don't need a follow-up appointment.
"Like I said, no major injuries. No need for a second visit."
He grips the steering wheel as his jaw clenches together. Then he turns on the road that will lead us back to his home. I really wish Mr. Colton hadn't made me shake his hand on that second deal. It's as if he knew I was loyal to my word. I should have held out for Kade's counter offer. I'd already be out of this awkwardness.
Fortunately for me, he never says anything else. Instead, he hops out of the car, seeming angry for reasons unbeknownst to me. I struggle between my two options - keep my mouth shut or ask him what's wrong. I keep my mouth shut.
Carrying all my bags at once, he heads into the house, leaving me outside with all the uncertainty of what just happened. Hot and cold. I like him pissing me off. It's easy to hate the rich jerk when he's actually being a jerk.
Chapter 3
A Little Too Close
I've spent a week in Kade's home. Despite the fact we live in the same house, we barely run into each other. And when we do, he always makes a hasty exit, avoiding me like I've got some infectious disease. He hasn't had any raging parties. Of course I'm sure that has something to do with the fact he'd have to ask for my permission - due to his punishment - and he won't do that.
Just as I reach the main building, I see him. I never see him at school.
He takes a drag off a cigarette while getting flogged by the numerous eager followers who seem to worship his every word. I hear gushing about a new party as people beg for some excitement.
This college was supposed to be different. It's Ivy League, but it's newer, and even though it's not far from the beach, this area is rather dull. I expected all the rich brats to be at Harvard or Yale, where their alumni parents went. They weren't supposed to be here.
This is the whole reason I chose this place. Out of all the scholarship offers I had, this was the most promising, and it's close to my father. I expected more people like
me - people who value education over pedigree and partying rights. I was wrong.
This is just as bad as any other preppy choice I could have made. Most of them want to start their own legacy, and there are a lot of rebels who feel like coming here was a way to stand up to their parents. Just what I need.
"Nice clothes, Princess," a guy says as he sidles up beside me. "I take it Kade's daddy is making you his project or his toy. Which is it?"
My cheeks flame. This isn't the first time I've endured these remarks this week. I've been accused of screwing Kade's father so many times that I don't ever think I can face the man again. The ones not referring to me as a mistress are calling me a charity case.
Kade glances up just as I start in, and he flicks his cigarette to the ground before casting his eyes toward the guy heckling me.
"Joseph," Kade calls, seeming bored as he walks over to my harasser. Figures he knows him. He's probably the one feeding them this bullshit.
The guy chuckles and jogs toward Kade, leaving me to the next attacker, whenever they come. I'm sure it won't take long.
My head is still reeling from calculus when I step out of class, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. During class, several snickering fools called me a few choice names. The professor finally had to put a stop to it. I need to call Mr. Colton and tell him this arrangement won't work. I also need to go buy cheap clothes.
Tears have been on the edge of my lids all day, but I've been refusing to let them fall. I won't let these assholes see me cry. They might be rich and cruel, but I was raised too stubborn to crumble. I'd already acquired a few extra layers of skin back home, where the trailer park girl wasn't exactly popular at school. This isn't anything new. There are just more people here to torture me.
"Hey," a velvety voice says as feet thud behind me.
I ignore the familiar sound. I can't let him see the glistening specks in my eyes. The tears aren't falling, but they're there.
"Raya," he says, making me cringe. Why does my name sound so foreign yet so warm when it slides through his lips?