KING: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Elite Royal Academy Book 1)

by L. J. Woods

  Eric has two fingers on his temple as Nancy stands up. She's in a black dress, moving towards Sebastien. “I’m sorry Jo,” she says, new manicure over her heart. “We put a lot of thought into this and you’re—”

  “Not good for business?” I finish her sentence, my hands clammy in Damien's hold. “I guess I wasn’t the right 'ethnic' girl.”

  Her head moves back like a turtle and she arches an eyebrow. Eric slams his glass, rising and storming to me. “Listen you little brat,” he grunts. “You know nothing about my business.”

  “Don’t I?” I meet his blue eyes. “Or is that Holly? I’m sure she knows all about your wrinkly dink—”

  “Jo, I think you should leave!” Nancy yells.

  Sebastien crosses his arms, a look of satisfaction growing across his wrinkles.

  "With all due respect." Damien takes a step between Eric and me. "That’s not exactly the best scenario for you, Nancy. Or Eric for that matter. Or you, dad.” That menacing voice is back, the one he served me the first day of school.

  “What are you talking about? The girl isn't worth it, son,” Sebastien says.

  Damien narrows his eyes. “I don’t think you want everyone to know you’ve been dipping your stick into Eric Archibald’s honey."

  "Damien," Sebastien's voice sounds like a warning but Damien doesn't hear it.

  "That doesn’t seem so bad when Eric has a thing for his assistant. You know…" Damien's head falls to the side. "You all act like the kids are the problem when you’re all just as bad, if not worse. Where the fuck do you think we get it from?”

  Nancy’s whole face turns red. She’s like a goddamn lobster. Sebastien won’t take his eyes off Damien and Eric is glaring at me like he wants to hang me from the chandelier.

  “Think about what you’re doing Damien.” Sebastien glances at me. “She could ruin everything we’ve tried to build here. All for what? A piece of exotic ass?”

  Damien smirks in his dad’s face. “At least this one’s not living a lie.”

  He turns his attention to Nancy. Tears in her eyes. “Please Damien,” she says, her voice shaky. “ I’m sorry, your father and I—”

  “No apologies necessary," he says. "Pussy’s good for this man’s tension, and don’t worry, no one has to know." Letting go of my hand, he reaches into his pocket, pulling out that coin. “As long as we have your word that Jo and Willow can stay in this mansion."

  "Th-that's it?" Nancy's mouth trembles, hand in front.

  Damien nods. "Leave her alone and she'll be at every corporate event. Frilly dresses and all."

  “I will?” Now I’m looking at Damien.

  He continues, “But, she stays here. No trouble. No bullshit. When she turns eighteen she and Willow are out of your hair for good. Unscathed. Deal?”

  There’s another warning in Sebastien’s voice, “Son—”

  “Okay,” Nancy’s voice is quiet but she agrees, her hand in front of Sebastien’s chest. “Okay. Deal.”

  “I guess that’s what we wanted,” Eric sighs, reaching for Nancy’s hand but she pulls back. She pushes him away before walking out of the room, hand by her nose.

  “Good talk, everyone.” Damien takes my hand and with nothing else, leads me to my room.

  Once there, he closes the door, hanging the dress on the hook behind it and I’m still in awe at watching him work his magic. I’ll be the first to admit he made a solid deal with the Archibalds. I could live out the time until my eighteenth birthday in a lavish, well-stocked home. All I have to do is attend a few dinners.

  I felt used before, but knowing that my life would be more at peace thanks to this “deal” feels amazing.

  "Jo?" Hearing our sounds, Willow runs into the room and wraps her arms around me, squeezing me to a pulp.

  “Fuck,” I let out a cry when she presses hard against the wound.

  She jumps back like a scared cat, silk pyjamas on her frame. “What? What happened?”

  “Her fucked up ex-boyfriend is what happened.” Damien sits on my bed like he’s not fucked up at all.

  “Zane?” Willow’s eyes double in size.

  “Ssh, that's not important. I’m happy you’re okay.” I pull her back in for a hug, a gentler one and she takes her time wrapping her arms back around me. “I’m sorry I left.”

  “You can’t leave me like that,” Willow says into my shirt. “I didn’t know what I was going to do. If it wasn’t for Damien I—”

  "I know.” I kiss the side of her head and Damien lets us have our moment.

  Cuddling in my bed, I catch Willow up on the events of the weekend. I tell her about the deal with our evil foster parents and how I plan to stay in Eden and fix everything.

  After some time, Damien breaks up our reunion. “Alright Low, Jo’s tuckered out. Mind if I steal her for a nap?”

  I give him a look, a twist of my mouth. “Who says I need a nap?”

  “The doctor,” he's quick to respond. “And me, but you need a shower first.”

  I wave him off. “I can handle it.”

  “No, you can’t.”

  Willow’s beside me in bed, head whipping between us. “I didn’t have the time to see this before but you two are perfect for each other.”

  “Get outta here.” I push her away with whatever energy I have left, sticking out my tongue. “Come check on me in the morning okay?”

  “Is Damien staying?” she asks on the way to the door.

  “No, he doesn’t have—”

  “Yeah,” he says. “I’m staying.”

  She smiles, “Then I guess I don’t have to worry.” Before she closes her side of the bathroom door I hear her yell, “If you break her heart I don’t care who you are, it won’t be pretty!”

  I’m proud of that last bit. Why was I so worried about her getting in with the more popular freshmen? I trained her well. She can handle herself.

  “Alright, Rowland.” Damien helps me off the bed. “Shower.”

  We lock the door and I turn on the speakers, The Pretty Reckless filling the room. I start taking off my clothes and Damien doesn’t hesitate to help move me into the shower. I’m still sore from the wound and the bashing from Zane but with Damien next to me, I feel capable of pushing through.

  The shower is comforting, the warm water stings the scrapes on my skin but soothes my muscles. Relaxes my mind. I breathe in the steam and let my mind drift, replaying the events of the last few days like a movie in my mind.

  When did my life get so dramatic?

  Hell, I guess it's always been dramatic. Since the day my folks died.

  Sebastien King’s voice plays in my head.

  She could ruin everything we’ve tried to build here.

  Damien said similar words the day I met him. What could I do to ruin anything the Kings have going on? Is there more to Sebastien than I realize?

  “Jo?” Damien’s voice breaks me out of my thoughts but before I can answer he’s moving back the curtain. His eyes wander down my body before his eyes meet mine again. “You alright? I called your name three times.”

  “Sorry.” I look at him but his eyes are back on my body. “I’m a little distracted.”

  “Me too.” He smirks. “Need some help?”

  “No, I—”

  Before I can stop him he’s climbing in, joggers barely off before the water touches his body. He takes the loofah hanging from the shower shelf. Putting some of the coconut body wash onto it, he rubs it along my body. He’s being gentle again and it’s so new yet so comforting. So calming that it scares me.

  “Damien, if it's not too late for thank-yous, I want to thank you.” The feeling of the suds on my skin helps me relax. “For coming to The Grove, for handling Zane and for dealing with the Archibalds.”

  He smiles at me, loofah dropping to the shower floor before his fingers shoot between my legs. “Don’t thank me yet."

  Damien is gone when I wake up the next morning.

  Again, I’m wondering if everything was all a dr
eam but the pain when I try to sit up tells me otherwise. I check my phone and it’s past nine.

  Fuck. I’m already late for school.

  I groan in pain as I move my legs to the side of the bed. Why didn’t Vincent wake me? Or Willow?

  There’s a knock at the door as I’m starting to make my way to the bathroom.

  “Miss Rowland?” It’s Vincent. The door’s still locked but I hear a set of keys. "I’m coming in.” I'm startled by his announcement. He usually just bursts in. He does and when he sees me out of bed he frowns. “What are you doing?”

  “Why didn’t you wake me? I’m late for school.”

  “It appears you’re in no state for classes.” He ushers me back to bed, helping me under the covers. “Mr. King informed the school of your…incident. As such they’ve excused you for the week but they will be sending someone over with the things you’ve missed."I try to protest as he helps me under the covers. "You cannot slack. As per your agreement with the Archibalds your grades are to be top-notch. No excuses.”

  “Wh-what about the masquerade ball?”

  “You’re still permitted to go, but now…" He dusts off his hands like he touched dirt. "Smoothie or omelette?”

  I smirk. “Thought you didn’t work for me.”

  Vincent mumbles as he heads for the door and in thirty minutes, he brings me a banana smoothie anyway.

  Today is the first day I’ve been at peace in the Archibald mansion. It seems that our collective dirt on the Archibalds helped set some boundaries in this place.

  I spend the rest of the morning catching up on reading from homeroom, jazz playing in the background. With white hibiscus tea on my side table, it’s easy to relax despite my recovery.

  Around four o’clock, two ladies burst into my bedroom on a mission to get me ready for the dance. They say Damien sent them. Hair and makeup. When I tell them the dance isn’t until seven, they look at me and laugh before ushering me into the bathroom where they set up their supplies.

  Two and half hours later I’m standing in front of the mirror as one of the ladies adds another coat of gloss to my lips. I hardly recognize the girl in front of me, curls straightened, side-shave gelled. Vintage cat eyeliner compliments my red lips. It's like I’m in Cinderella, or The Devil Wears Prada.

  “Woah, Jo!” Willow’s home from school after the ladies leave. She's coming through our shared bathroom, uniform still on. “You look amazing.”

  “Thanks.” I smile, taking in her appearance. She does too. Hair looks healthy, a smile that's real.

  “Love the lace detailing. Very vintage.” She joins me in front of the mirror, sighing, “Freshmen never get to do anything fun.”

  I’m still getting used to being in this gold and black gown. It accentuates every dip in my body without looking trashy. Tight at the waist, the lace waterfalls at the ends like a mermaid. It’s as elegant as the mask I’ve paired it with, gold feathers at the top. If I stayed in The Grove, I’d never feel as good as I feel now. Bullet wound and all.

  “Sure they do!” I take the mask off the dresser. “You get to skip out on all this. What are you doing tonight anyway?”

  “Jordan and I are going to study at MOCHA.” She helps tie the mask carefully around my hair. “Lea’s going to the dance with Prince Xavier so she won’t be on my case for information about you.”

  Lea’s been asking about me? “What do you—”

  Knock! Knock! Knock!

  “Miss Rowland? Mr. King is here.”

  Willow squeals, “It’s time! Try to have fun okay?”

  “I should be telling you that.”

  More knocks sound from the door. “Miss Rowland?”

  “Okay!” Willow giggles and ushers me out before she follows me to the stairs.

  When I get to the second-floor landing I can already see Damien leaning against the post. I’m half breathless and it’s not because of how tight this dress is. Damien looks like a delicious main course.

  He’s in a black suit, fitted to his strong frame, vest pinstriped in gold. His tie is thin and black, revealing gold crosses when he moves. Damien's eyeing me as hard as I'm eyeing him and it already makes me want to pull his suit off. He watches as I walk down the stairs and for once, the guy is speechless.

  That is until he says, “Never would’ve taken you for a girl from The Grove.” I ignore it, not letting his stupid comment ruin this moment as he takes my hand, leading me towards the door.

  “Have her back at a decent hour King,” Eric calls from the living room. “Don't wake me up."

  I roll my eyes at his attempt to assert dominance as Vincent opens the doors for us.

  Damien chuckles, “Hasn’t he heard? I’m the King of this town.”

  Once outside, the fall air rustles my dress. The air in Eden Gardens is so much fresher than in The Grove but tonight, the air is just right. Crisp and refreshing. Not too cold on my bare shoulders.

  When Damien opens the door to a long shiny limo, I’m greeted by Isaac and Beth. Isaac immediately holds out a large bottle of whiskey, “I’m sorry” monogrammed in gold.

  “Nice to see you, Jo!” Beth smiles in a silky maroon gown, matching Isaac's suit. “You look amazing.”

  Damien ushers me in before I can respond, getting in right after me. Isaac looks like he’s recovering from a scrap. Darkened eye, a scar on his chin. “Before you say anything,” he says. “I’m sorry for what I said and I’m sorry for throwing you under the bus. It won’t ever happen again.”

  Christian is at the far side of the limo, looking as dapper as Damien and Isaac. His tie is green, making his eyes pop. He has one of Lea’s minions under his arm but she’s staying quiet in a poofy emerald dress. All I get from Christian is a tilt of his chin as I take the bottle from Isaac.

  Damien takes it out of my hand and pops the top, tilting my chin up. “Enough business.” He tilts the bottle into my mouth and pours the whiskey over my tongue.

  The limo starts moving, Isaac turning up the tunes on the radio. “I mean, if it’s more consolation, Lea’s going to flip when she sees you arriving with Damien." He leans back in his seat. "Especially looking like that. Zoe Kravitz would be jealous."

  "Watch it, Johnson." Damien wraps an arm around me.

  I turn to him, swallowing the gulp of smooth alcohol before he's gulping his own. “What’s the deal with you two anyway? Can I ever know?”

  “Yeah, Damien, why don’t you tell her?” Those are the first words out of Christian.

  His eyes are glossy and his suit’s already a bit rumpled. But even with his hair all shaggy and messy, he’s still charming me with those classic boyish features.

  “There’s nothing to tell her,” Damien says to which Isaac snorts.

  “What do you mean there’s nothing to tell her?” the girl next to Christian asks. “Damien and Lea dated since sixth grade.”

  “Sixth grade?” The shock forces me to turn my head to Damien again.

  He takes another sip, glaring at the girl when she snaps her mouth shut.

  “What?” Christian asks. “It’s no secret.”

  “Perez,” Damien growls.

  Christian meets his glare and Isaac looks between them. “Man, I thought you two settled this.”

  “Settled what?” I ask.

  “Nothing.” Damien looks down at my dress. “Did I tell you you look incredible tonight?” Heat goes to my cheeks, the look of desire in his eyes. His voice lowers, “The things I want to do you…”

  “Alright!” Isaac leans forward, getting little plastic shot glasses from the compartment in front of him. “Fuck everything and let’s arrive in style. Drunk off our asses.”

  I’m not sure of what’s going on between Christian and Damien but Isaac spends the rest of the ride trying to play buffer. He keeps the party going but Christian doesn’t say much. As for Damien, he can’t keep his whispers from my ear, the nibbles on my lobe as he tells me all that he’ll do once I’m out of this dress.

  Christian glan
ces our way the entire time, daggers in his eyes. Damien's fingers trail up my arm but it's hard for my mind not to wander.

  Is Damien always going to be like this? Secretive? Deflective?

  Will he ever be completely upfront and honest with me?

  We arrive at the venue, a banquet hall that looks like a fucking castle. I'm in awe, Christian and his date the first to get out. Isaac is already slurring by the time he reaches for the door and Beth is as high as a kite. They’re giggling at some of the dresses and suits they can see from the window. When they get out of the car, Beth hangs onto Isaac so he doesn’t stumble.

  “Need some help?” I call from the door.

  “Nah, he’ll be alright,” she giggles. “As long as I get him through the chaperones."

  Isaac turns around with a devilish smile. “Help from you? Always, baby.”

  His cute little smirk disappears when Damien slams the door closed. I turn to him, my thumb pointed at the door. “Aren’t we going?”

  “In time.” He leans back in his seat, his arm back around me. “We’re waiting for the perfect moment.”

  “Oh? And when’s that?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty minutes go by while Damien and I sit drinking in the limo.

  He won't tell me what we're waiting for, distracting me with kisses and teasing touches instead.

  “So.” I press against his chest, wanting more honesty, more Damien realness. “What happened between you and Lea?”

  A crowd starts to gather at the front of the venue. A red carpet leading to the open front doors. Georgina’s at the front of the crowd in a sheer blue number, glittering mask in her hand. She points towards something in front of the limo as the entire crowd starts to cheer. Damien notices too and hits the button for the privacy screen.

  A large lit up carriage sits in front of us and I can make out what looks like…horses? I crack the window to hear the commotion and I get wind of mutters and whispers.