by L. J. Woods
“So that’s why you know so much about Eden’s elites.” I throw on my leather jacket, taking one last look in the mirror. Willow laughs, turning me around so she can dab under my eyes with a tissue. I hold out my pinky which she takes. “Text me and lock the door. Don’t answer to anyone except me.”
She smiles, kissing her thumb in unison, “Deal.”
With a kiss on her head, I leave my bedroom door, taking the key for the room with me along with my phone. While I’m sure it’s not the only key for the room it gives me a little sense of security that I value after moving so often.
I’m halfway down the steps before I hear Nancy’s voice, “And where do you think you’re off to?” She’s near the second-floor landing, in a black silky gown.
“Damien King is having a party tonight and I…”
She scoffs, waving me off with one hand, a copy of Bridget Jones’s Diary in the next. '“You’re not going anywhere. Especially not looking like that.”
“Don't you think it’ll be good if I get to know the kids I’m going to school with?"
“That wasn’t a suggestion.” She doesn’t take her eyes off her book, walking down the stairs into the kitchen.
When I return to my room, my sister’s already comfy in my bed. “What happened?”
“Ran into Nancy. She’s not down.”
My sister’s eyes move to the window and I realize she knows me all too well. She rolls her eyes. “Amateurs.”
Willow hops off the bed before we’re both looking down at the flower garden from the third-floor window. There’s no ladder in sight so we get the sheets, tying them together. We tie one side to the bathroom door, Willow manning it.
Channelling my inner Lara Croft, I rappel down the side of the house, but not without mistaking the drop, ass landing in the tulips.
My sister whispers from our bedroom window, “You okay?”
I give her a thumbs-up before dusting the dirt off my shorts and making my way around to the front.
Allie’s waiting for me behind the Archibald gate in a Mercedes truck. As soon as the passenger door opens, she gives me a raised eyebrow before leaning over, plucking a branch from my hair.
“Oh, no...” Nate’s in the backseat and when I turn around he’s giving me narrow eyes in a denim blazer. “I have ten minutes to fix this. Get your ass back here. There’s no way we’re rolling up to King’s with you like this.”
I roll my eyes as Nate holds out his hand. Allie laughs, pulling away from the mansion while Nate pulls me into the backseat. He studies me, thumb under his chin before he nods. “Let’s get to it.”
When we pull up to the home of Sebastien and Damien King, I’m floored. It’s twice the size of the Archibald mansion. There's even a fountain in the middle of the driveway the size of a pool. A line of expensive cars circle it but Allie parks by the gate, more wrought iron. This one with a huge ‘K’ in the middle.
Nate gives my chin a gentle push and holds out a compact mirror to me. He’d spent the entire ride poking at my face with makeup brushes, powder and other goop. My lips are a deep red, and he’s cleaned up the eyeliner, making it almost too perfect. He put some sparkling powder on my cheeks and nose, making my entire face look more defined. With the help of some bobby pins, he tamed my hair into a sassy looking faux hawk, fit for my outfit.
I’m impressed. He hasn’t done me up like Lea’s crew, but I look more refined. More Rihanna and less Courtney Love. Before I get a chance to comment he smiles, snapping his compact closed. “No need to thank me.”
Allie hands me a flask as Nate opens the door. “I’m driving but you’ll need this.”
“You read my mind.” I take the flask, tipping the warm contents into my mouth. It’s smoother than what I’m used to, but I’m sure it’ll do the trick.
They both watch me as I hold the flask to my lips like a bottle to a starving baby.
“Jesus, girl.” Nate blinks before I pass the flask to him. I apologize, wiping my chin but he laughs. “There’s more inside.”
“Ready?” Allie asks.
I nod, taking a look at the big front doors. The mansion looks like a miniature White House, its columns all lit up. A set of white steps lead up to the property that looks like it spans acres. For just a father and his son, this place is beyond overkill.
My hand hits the handle. “Ready.”
When my feet hit the pavement I gaze towards the massive home. Students smoke on the front porch and from where we’re standing I can see some more students hanging out on the balconies above.
Allie and Nate link each of my arms as they do in the school hallway. It's like I have a safety barrier sandwiched between these two ERA veterans. Better with them than on my own. When we get to the porch, Nate waves cigarette smoke out of our path before we enter through the door.
A double grand staircase welcomes us into the dimly lit space with a marble floor as white as the walls. A group of students with a large bottle pass by, giggling and staggering. There’s already a bunch of students scattered along the staircase, above it a giant golden chandelier. The entryway alone is bigger than some of the homes I’ve lived in.
The students on the steps all eye us as whispers begin. I’m going to need some more alcohol if I’m going to get through this. I turn to Allie in her overalls and a black tank-top. She looks like a fly-girl from the nineties, her hair in a high ponytail and I’m digging it. “Any idea where they keep the Jack? Or the PBR?"
Nate gives me a look as if he’s disgusted, head pulled back, fingers splayed against his chest.
Allie laughs, “No, but I can find you some scotch in the kitchen.” She links my arm, weaving me through the crowd. Hip-hop blasts through the home, bass rattling abstract paintings. The kitchen is to the right of the entrance and there’s already a small crowd inside the massive space.
Nate waves as we pass a group of Lea’s minions. “Slut,” one mutters.
He drops his head to the side. “Awe, mad that we get more action than you ever will?”
“Yeah probably together!” she snorts.
Allie gives her the finger and keeps pulling me along. When we finally get to the kitchen, there’s a large selection of alcohol on the edge of a long marble island. All bottles I don’t recognize. No JD. There’s a stack of snacks too but it’s not your usual Cheetos and Doritos. It’s a large spread of sliders, gourmet looking pizzas and…is that real caviar?
“If you like Jack Daniels, bourbon is up your alley.” Allie grabs a red cup from the end of the table. She grabs a mostly full bottle, pouring amber liquid into the cup while I look around. Stainless steel appliances look top of the line, but unused. Pristine pots and pans hang from a thick beam in the ceiling. It’s clear that the Kings do zero cooking themselves.
I look back at Allie. “More.”
She holds the bottle higher, filling the cup. When she hands it to me the cup is half full of pure deliciousness. Allie takes the time to grab herself a soda of her own and Nate comes between us with a tall glass of champagne in a crystal glass. He tilts it our way. “To the new semester. And new friends.”
As the liquid burns my throat, Allie pulls me into the sparkling hallway, Nate following. We lean against the white wall and they start to point out people in the crowd.
The party is full of the more popular kids of ERA, ones the Supreme Squad deem fit to invite. She points out the granddaughter of a famous French designer and the heir to an international pizza chain. This party is dripping with money and I'm starting to think good looks are a prerequisite to live in this town.
Lea and Georgina barge through the front doors, a group of girls rushing to their side. They're both in expensive-looking dresses. Lea’s is beige, lace and frilly, a matching headband on her head. Georgina’s in a black silky number, gold scarf swaying off her neck. They’ve got their hands around a bottle with a foil top, giggling like chickens.
“What about those two?” I pull my cup in front of my face, taking another sip. The al
cohol is already starting to warm me up. I’m starting to feel more relaxed but I still rather avoid Lea’s wrath.
“Ah yes.” Allie lifts her chin. “ERA’s royalty. Lea’s dad made his millions off real estate before he came to Eden. He served as the city’s Finance Director and now, he’s running for mayor.”
I imagine what Eden would be like if Lea was the mayor’s daughter and I shudder.
“As for Georgina,” Nate continues. “Her father invented the Cuddly.”
“The blanket with sleeves?”
Allie laughs, nodding, “Exactly. That’s nothing though. Isaac’s dad is Lionel Johnson.”
I almost choke on my drink. “What?” That explains his striking good looks and rockstar swagger.
Nate takes a sip from his glass. “I still think his dad is way hotter than he’ll ever be.”
One of the girls I recognize from Lea’s crew approaches us, and my jaw clenches. This is the redhead with the freckles and a button nose. She's the least threatening of the group but I still don’t trust her. Beside her is a guy I recognize from school, hanging around Damien. He’s built like a goon, stocky and tall with a head of blonde hair.
“I wondered if you’d show up.” The redhead smiles when she gets in front of us. “Lea’s not going to be happy.”
The boy next to her laughs, “Man when is she ever?”
“And this is Beth Sanders and Luca Ferraro.” Allie’s not alarmed or thrown off so I take it they're not as threatening as I think. Beth does a twirl, showing off leather leggings, heels and a matching black tank. “Beth is the daughter of famed architect, Brandon Sinclair, he’s also the town’s Planning Director. As for Luca, his father is the heir to the Ferraro Rocher empire.”
“And yes, I’m as sweet as the brand.” He winks in a sweater that says “Gucci”, his belt the same.
“No. He’s not,” Nate gives Luca a cut of the eye before he sips from his glass. Leaning into me he mutters, “He’s a brute, like the rest of our highly entitled hockey team.”
“Sweet in the streets, a brute in the sheets!” He gives me a sly smile, tongue moving across his lip. Beth nudges him and I smile, grateful they’re not being as sour as their friends. He tilts his chin towards me. “Does Damien know you’re here?”
“Shit, does Lea know you’re here?” Beth follows, hand on her hips.
“Why? Is she going to send you to the gallows for talking to me?” I snicker into my cup. The whiskey’s so smooth I haven’t noticed I’ve already gone through half of it.
“Pft, Lea and I have been friends since cello lessons in the third grade. I’ve known her since we were five so she doesn’t get a say in who I talk to.” Beth shrugs. “I have way too much dirt on her.”
“Is she still that upset about what happened at the cafe?” I ask.
“Lea's very territorial and those girls are like sheep. They’ll do anything to stay on the good side of the two most powerful kids in Eden." Beth laughs. "So if Damien says you're on his blacklist, they have no problem making your life extra hard."
Luca licks his lips, his eyes on my legs. “I’d love to make you my territory.” He waggles his eyebrows and I can’t help but laugh when he gets another scoff from Nate.
A cute guy leans on the wall across the room, his eyes on our group. He’s in a colourful blazer and slacks. Gelled pompadour almost as shiny as his lips. I see him look down at his drink then back at us. Nate clears his throat and when I turn to him, he’s downing the rest of his champagne. “And that’s my cue. I'll catch you guys in a bit. Or not.” Nate puts his hands in the pocket of his slacks, sauntering towards the cutie on the wall.
“Which reminds me,” Beth turns her attention to Allie. “Lea wants to have a chat with you.”
I raise an eyebrow to Allie, wondering why Lea has summoned her of all people, but Allie doesn’t seem bothered.
Luca smiles with a flip of his locks. “Need me to keep the newbie company?”
“She’s better off alone than with you Luca,” Allie says. She turns to me. “Lay low, I’ll be back in a second.”
I nod before she walks away, Beth dragging Luca with her but he looks back with a smile that makes me laugh. He calls back, “I’m only going with them because King will make an example out of me otherwise.”
Beth tugs him around and they disappear through a white arch.
What the fuck did he mean by that? The mention of Damien reminds me why I’m here in the first place.
What do these rich assholes know about my parents?
I head back to the kitchen with a little more sway in my step. I try to go unnoticed as I fill up the cup a little more and head out into the rest of the mansion.
The room on the other side of the foyer is big enough to house a full family. It’s black and white like the entryway, pot lights shining from a dark wood ceiling. There’s a group of teens doing lines off a shiny grand piano. The space still looks classy. Even with students all over the furniture. Some have even turned the middle of the room into a dancefloor.
From the living room, there are two large glass doors opening out onto the back patio. It’s lit up like a fairy garden, big ass pool glistening against the stone fence. More students line the small hot tub next to it.
I still haven’t seen Lea or Allie, but a few of Lea’s minions are lounging in the tub. Isaac is amongst them, another boy by his side. They’re sitting at the edge of the pool, laughing at a girl who’s lifting off her bikini. They both have cups in their hands and I figured they’d be a good place to start. Especially since I spot a joint in Isaac’s hand. But first, I need to find a bathroom after all this whiskey.
Heading back the way I came, the first bathroom I find has a locked door. Someone’s gagging on the other side and my shoulders drop before my eyes land on the staircase. Considering all the people on the first floor, the second floor looks like a better option.
I'm too tipsy to care about the comments I hear as I climb the steps. When I reach the second-floor balcony, I walk down a long hallway looking for a sign of a bathroom. The black and white theme continues, Sebastien’s accolades between more art on white walls.
A couple comes out of a black door giggling, staggering towards the stairs.
Bingo.
I’m quick to handle my biz before I wash my hands in the gold sink. Considering who I saw leaving, I skip wiping my hands on the black towels. Taking my cup off the stone counter, I leave the bathroom with a look down the hall.
My eyes land on two black doors, “Sebastien King” on a gold plate. Moving towards them I'm hoping they're open. Fuelled by whiskey, excitement runs through me when I hear Damien’s voice down the hallway. Looking back at the office door, then down the hallway, I follow the sound. The closer I get, the stronger the smell of weed is and the louder music gets, an old Marilyn Manson song on low volume.
“He’s full of shit!” Damien sounds angry, irritated. I’m starting to think this is his usual demeanour. “He never listens to me!” He’s sniffing as he speaks. Slurring like he’s already had a few too many. “Fuck!”
SMASH!
“Dude, chill the fuck out,” Christian’s voice comes next.
“Fuck that!” There’s another crash, like glass hitting a wall. “If we use the money from the Evergreen deal with the Huangs we can invest it in way better things than Edwin’s shitty fucking campaign! Why do they need that kind of money anyway? Fucking idiots. He’s going to run his own business into the goddamn ground!”
Another loud thud makes me flinch, but so does the mention of my mom’s old company. The Evergreen Group. What deal is he talking about?
A ringtone comes from the room and Damien clears his throat. “Hello? Dad, listen, we can do so much more with— no. I’m not drunk. Wait. That’s not the point!”
“The sexy spy strikes again,” a voice is in my ear and this time I know it’s Isaac’s.
Turning to look at him, he’s still dripping wet from the torso down. It's a sexy look if his eye
s weren’t blasted to hell. Giving him my cup, I put my finger to my lips. “Ssh, you’re going to get us caught.”
Isaac looks behind me before he smirks. “Too late.”
When I turn around, Damien is standing in the doorway, phone to his ear. He’s glaring at me with hell in his eyes. “Dad, if you’ll excuse me, I have to take out the trash. And it smells rancid.”
Nine
Damien drops the phone, his eyes narrowing into slits, “Or is that the natural scent between your legs?”
He’s in a white t-shirt and dark jeans. The usual, but it’s the first time I’m seeing his tattoos in full.
While I have a sad excuse of a half-sleeve on my forearm, Damien has both of his filled out. One side has a detailed decaying skull, the design moving into his hand and fingers. The other side looks like it has a tattered map and a compass, all impressively detailed.
“Dude, C’mon.” Christian appears behind him in a blue shirt with green palm trees. It brings out his eyes. Like Damien’s, they’re glazed but he isn’t as sweaty as his fellow King. Less agitated too.
“Christian. Isaac. Can you two give us a moment?” He speaks slow but his voice is hostile, especially since he doesn’t take his eyes off me.
“Sorry, Medusa.” With my cup in hand, Isaac turns around to leave.
“I thought you didn’t follow orders,” I say to his muscular back.
He looks over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’m not dealing with that tonight.”
Turning to look at Damien, I get what Isaac means by that. His clothes look like they’re in desperate need of an iron and his hair sticks up like a peacock. He's leaning to the side, belt undone, fair skin pale. Even though he looks a mess, that look in his eye still makes my heart do double-time. But I don’t think I want to deal with that either.
Christian must notice my apprehension because he speaks up, “I can hang back.”
This gets a growl from Damien, voice getting lower, “Leave.”