Falcon (Trinity Academy Book 1)

by Michelle Heard

  I glance back to see what the hell is happening. Mason shoves Grayson forward, making him fall to his knees on the marble floor. Grayson quickly climbs to his feet and moves away from Mason while struggling to pull his phone from his pocket. “I’m pressing charges against you,” he dares to threaten Mason.

  I’m used to seeing Mason out of control but when Lake walks right up to Grayson, getting in his face, surprise ripples through me.

  “You want to press charges? You’re not the fucking victim here!”

  Grayson uses his palm to wipe some of the blood away from the cut above his left eye. “She fucking bit me!” he roars, the veins bulging in his neck. Pointing at his face with a shaking finger, he continues to rant, “Look at the scratches! If it scars, she’s paying the fucking bill.”

  “What did you do to make her bite and scratch you?” Kingsley yells, her cheeks stained red and her hands trembling. I’ve never seen Kingsley so upset before.

  “I did nothing. The bitch is crazy. This is what happens when you allow low-lives into Trinity.”

  Glancing back at Layla, something in me shifts when she cowers closer to me.

  I bring my hands to her shoulders and try to pull her a little back. “Layla, tell me what happened.”

  She shakes her head and burrows her way back against my chest. Without turning around to look at Grayson because I know I will lose my shit and beat him to death, I growl, “Restrain him in the suite. I’ll deal with him once I’ve taken care of Layla.”

  Needing to put some distance between us and Grayson, I bend down and placing an arm beneath her legs, and another behind her back, I lift her up. “Kingsley, get Layla’s door for me.”

  Kingsley darts around me to retrieve the keycard from Layla’s pocket. She has to swipe it twice before she manages to open the door. I step inside and head to the couch. Placing Layla down on it, I glance to Kingsley where she’s closing the door. “Call for a doctor.”

  The word doctor gets Layla’s attention because she begins to shake her head. “No doctor. I’m not hurt.”

  Crouching in front of her, I almost place a hand on her bruised knee, but stop just in time. Needing to touch her in some way, I let my arm rest on the couch beside her leg. “You’re not hurt?” I ask incredulously. “Layla, you need medical attention. Either the doctor comes here, or I’m taking you to hospital.”

  Her eyes dart to mine. “No hospital. My mom can’t know.”

  “We can talk about that later,” I say to pacify her and give her hip a gentle squeeze.

  “Make the call, Kingsley,” I order while pulling my own phone from my pocket. I bring up Lake’s number and wait until I hear him pick up.

  “Make sure Mason doesn’t kill the fucker,” I say.

  “That seriously hurts my feelings,” Mason replies, making me frown.

  “Where’s Lake?”

  “Beating the shit out of Grayson.”

  “Fuck, Mason, separate them,” I snap. “Call Lake’s father. We need legal here to handle this fucking mess.”

  “I’m calling him now, so he doesn’t have to deal with a murder case.”

  I can’t blame the guys. If I had to see Grayson now, I’d be facing murder charges soon.

  After calling the doctor, Kingsley comes to sit next to Layla, and I hate moving away from her, but Kingsley will know better how to handle the situation.

  I take a seat on the opposite side of the coffee table. Kingsley wraps her arms around Layla while my eyes jump from one bruise to the next.

  What happened between her and Grayson?

  Dark thoughts begin to force their way into my mind, making me grind my teeth. I know what type of person he is, which only makes the images in my mind spin out of control.

  “Layla. Did Gray –” My voice sounds hoarse from the dread spinning a web around my heart. Not being able to say the exact words I’m thinking, I try to be sensitive about my approach. “Did he force himself on you?”

  My question has shock rippling through the room. Kingsley pulls back, her eyes wide with horror as they jump all over Layla’s face.

  Layla’s movements are jerky as she brings her hands to her chest, and taking hold of the torn t-shirt she tries to cover herself.

  The last time I felt this kind of emotion was at Jennifer’s funeral. Seeing Mason’s grief for the loss of his sister had my heart breaking for my friend.

  With the torturous scenarios flooding my mind, and Layla’s traumatized state, the urge to punch something is overwhelming.

  Getting up, I walk around the table and crouch in front of Layla again. I place my hands on either side of her and try to catch her eyes as I ask, “Did he?”

  Her eyes dance wildly over my face, and she shakes her head. “No.” She grips the pieces of her shirt tighter.

  I feel zero relief after hearing her say no, and it makes me agitated. Glancing to Kingsley, I ask, “What’s taking the doctor so long?”

  “I’ll call him again.” Kingsley darts up and races to the door. When she steps out into the foyer, I take the spot she vacated. I’m careful as I place my arm around Layla’s shoulders, and when she turns to me and rests her forehead to my shoulder, I feel a slither of relief.

  After the doctor treats Layla, he gives her something to help her calm down.

  “Can I shower?” she asks the doctor just as there’s a knock on the door. Getting up, I open the door, and my eyes land on Mr. Cutler. For the first time tonight, I feel the tension ease up inside of me.

  “Yes, you can bathe or shower. I’ll leave the ointment with you. Reapply it when you’re done,” the doctor answers.

  Mr. Cutler steps into the room, and when Kingsley begins to help Layla up from the couch, he quickly mentions, “Before you shower, we need to take photos.”

  Layla’s eyes dart from me to Mr. Cutler, which prompts me to introduce them. “This is Mr. Cutler. He’s Lake’s father.”

  The meager color Layla managed to regain drains from her face. Looking very uncomfortable she wraps the blanket Kingsley brought her earlier tighter around her body. “I’m sorry, Mr. Cutler. They shouldn’t have called you.”

  “Nonsense, Miss Shepard.” He walks to her and taking hold of her chin, he looks at the bruises on her face. “I always knew the Stateman boy was trouble.” Glancing at me from over his shoulder, he asks, “Didn’t I warn you not to let him attend Trinity?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Picking up his bag, the doctor says, “I’ll be going now.”

  “Thank you for making the emergency call,” I mention as I let him out before closing the door behind him.

  “I understand you’ve had quite the traumatic evening, but I need to take photos, Miss Shepard. If this ever goes to trial, we need all the evidence we can get our hands on.”

  “Trial?” Layla’s eyes begin to shine with tears, and I quickly rush to her side.

  “There won’t be a trial. I promise.”

  “But photos?” She shakes her head, looking utterly drained of her fight for life. “I don’t want proof out there of what happened today.”

  “Miss Shepard, no one will see the photos unless we go to court.”

  A tear trickles down her cheek and lifting my hand, I wipe it away with my thumb. Layla’s eyes find mine, and the pleading look she gives me almost breaks my heart.

  “I don’t want my mom to know. If this gets out, I’m scared…” she swallows hard on the emotion before she continues, “This might jeopardize her career. It will drag CRC into the mess, and I can’t have that. It will be a media frenzy.”

  Bringing my hands to her face, I cup her cheeks and keep my eyes locked with her. “It will never get out.”

  “But Grayson –” she begins to argue, but I cut her off.

  “Don’t worry about Grayson. I’ll take care of him. I know it’s hard right now but try to trust me.”

  After a couple of seconds, she wets her lips, then says, “I’ll only consent to photos if they’re taken with my phone an
d I keep them. I’m sorry, I need to know no one else has access to them.”

  I look at Mr. Cutler to see what he thinks but instead of arguing with Layla, he adds, “Gather every leaf and place it in a bag with everything you’re wearing right now.”

  “Okay,” Layla answers quickly, relief softening the lines on her forehead.

  Taking a deep breath, Mr. Cutler begins to walk toward the door. “Let’s go deal with Mr. Stateman.” He suddenly stops and looks back to Layla. “Unfortunately, life is filled with degenerates like Grayson. I apologize that this happened to you at Trinity Academy.”

  I give Layla’s shoulder a squeeze then pick up the keycard from the coffee table. “I’m taking the card. I’ll be back as soon as the problem is taken care off.”

  “Thank you.” The words are soft, but the grateful look on Layla’s face makes every unpleasant moment worth it.

  Walking into the suite I share with Mason and Lake, my eyes burn a hole through Grayson where he’s sitting on the couch. When he sees Mr. Cutler, he quickly gets up.

  “Mr. Stateman,” Mr. Cutler says, his voice thick with disapproval. He walks over to the dining table and places his briefcase on it then opens it. “Come have a seat.”

  While Grayson does as he’s instructed, Mr. Cutler looks at Lake. “Are you alright, my boy?”

  Lake looks down at the blood splatters on his hands and shoving them behind his back, he nods. “Thank you for coming, Dad.”

  Mr. Cutler glances at Mason.

  “For a change, I’m the good one,” Mason jokes which has me shaking my head. Trust Mason to say something like that at a time like this.

  “Hell will freeze over, and I was hoping to retire in a warm place, so let’s not horse around about you being good,” Mr. Cutler jokes back, and it helps to ease the tension in the room.

  Clearing his throat, Grayson brings the attention back to himself. “Mr. Cutler, I know this looks bad, but I’d appreciate it if you could hear my side of the story.”

  Mr. Cutler takes a document from his briefcase and sets it down in front of Grayson. “Mr. Stateman, if you wish to have legal representation present, then I recommend you call them now.”

  “Legal representation?” Grayson asks, and his eyes dart down to the document. “Non-disclosure agreement?”

  I go to stand next to Mr. Cutler, so the table is between Grayson and me because it’s hard talking to the bastard and not being able to kill him.

  “After signing the NDA, you will leave the campus immediately and never set foot here again.” It’s the only option I’m giving him.

  Grayson shoots up out of the chair but flinches in pain as he grabs his side. “Why should I be the one to leave?”

  “If you don’t, I’ll leak your dirty little secret to every media house in this country,” I threaten. The footage I have of Grayson doing drugs with an underaged girl will be enough to damage his family name, if not ruin it.

  “No one is going to bother to hear my side of the story? You’re all just going to believe whatever she said?”

  The offended look on Grayson’s face has me grinding my teeth as I lean forward. Placing my hands on the table, I don’t hide my hatred for the bastard.

  “This isn’t a hearing, and I’m not a judge. I don’t care about your side. Sign the form and get off our property before I lose the little patience I have left.”

  “Wow.” Giving me a dark glare, Grayson holds his hand out. “Give me a pen.”

  Mr. Cutler takes a pen from the inside pocket of his jacket, and as he places it on Grayson’s palm, he says, “I’m not sure what the boys have on you, but like Falcon stated; this isn’t a hearing. Be forewarned, Mr. Stateman. One wrong move on your part and we’ll have our next meeting in court.”

  Grayson at least has the decency to look chastised, but then he knows he doesn’t stand a chance against us. He signs the document before dropping the pen on it.

  “If I leave, I want the video,” he dares to demand of me.

  “You’re in no position to make demands,” I cut him off. Picking up the document, I hand it to Mr. Cutler. “Thank you so much for coming. Let me walk you out.”

  “My boy, give your mom a call. She’ll only stop worrying once she hears from you,” Mr. Cutler says to Lake as he closes his briefcase.

  “I’ll call her right now,” Lake answers, and he begins to reach for his phone where it’s lying on the coffee table.

  “Wash your hands first,” Mr. Cutler orders while shaking his head.

  “Ah… yes.” Lake rushes to the restroom.

  Mason takes a step closer to Grayson. “Do I get the honor of escorting him off the property?”

  “Dear, God,” Mr. Cutler sighs. “It pains me knowing our future is in your hands, Mason. I can only imagine what the board meetings will be like. Walk me out and let Falcon take care of the problem.”

  Mason jogs over to Mr. Cutler’s side and throws an arm around his shoulders. “Admit it, you can’t wait for me to join the board meetings. I’ll liven the place up.”

  “Like a dynamite stick in a chicken coop.”

  I wait for them to leave the suite, then turn to Grayson. “You have ten minutes.”

  “Or what? I’ll take my fucking time,” he sneers. “I meant what I said. I want that video.”

  I close my eyes for a moment, trying my God’s-honest-best to not lose my shit. “Fuck this,” I growl, and stalking toward him, I pull my arm back. The relief I’ve been looking for rushes through me as my fist connects with his skin. “You will get off my property before I kill you. The video should really be the least of your worries.”

  With the arrogant smirk wiped off his face, Grayson begins to look panicked, which is about fucking time. “You’re not fucking untouchable, Falcon,” he yells.

  With the whole of CRC Holdings standing behind me, I slowly begin to smile. “Yes, I am.”

  The confidence in my voice rattles Grayson even more, and he begins to stutter, “F-fine… T-this place is h-highly overrated anyway and not t-the only Academy I can attend.”

  I follow Grayson out of the building and watch him get into his car. When he drives off, I call security at the front gate to update them to never allow entrance to Grayson Stateman again. Ending the call, I stand in the parking area beside the dormitories and glance from one building to the other until my eyes stop on The Hope Diamond.

  Whoever said money can buy you status was grossly mistaken.

  Chapter 7

  Layla

  Kingsley fell asleep a couple of minutes ago, and the silence has started to gnaw on my frail nerves. I glance down at her peaceful face where she’s out cold on the bed. I might not have known her for long, but today she proved her friendship to me in a way no one should have to.

  “Thank you,” I whisper, unbelievably grateful for everything she did for me today.

  I walk to the window in my bedroom and stare at the dark night outside. I feel edgy, as if I’m being caged in by the walls of my room, but I’m too scared to go outside.

  This morning I felt safe as I walked around campus. It never crossed my mind to be on guard. And now…

  My eyes follow the path down below until it fades into the night.

  Now I’m not sure I’ll ever feel safe again.

  I know I shouldn’t let the incident taint my entire life, but it’s hard to not let it. Falcon said he’d deal with Grayson but how can I stay on the same campus as that guy? How many of the students are like Grayson, and I foolishly trusted them with my safety?

  Trust. It’s such a fragile thing. One blow is enough to obliterate it.

  I hear the door to my suite opening, and for a second, my body stiffens, and my heart begins to beat faster. Only when Lake walks into my room do I let out the breath I was holding.

  My eyes meet Lake’s, and the warmth I see in them chase some of the chill from my body. He walks to where I am and without saying anything, wraps his arms around me.

  There’s no urge to p
ull away. Not when it comes to Lake.

  “Thank you for helping me,” I whisper against his shoulder. Closing my eyes, I focus on the fact that I feel safe with him. I remind myself not all men are like Grayson.

  Lake is safe.

  He presses a kiss to the side of my head, then asks, “Do you need anything?”

  I shake my head, and when he begins to pull back my hands shoot up to his sides, and I grab hold of his shirt. “Just one more minute.”

  His arms tighten around me again, and it’s so comforting, I struggle not to cry from the relief it brings.

  “How does Kingsley manage to sleep after tonight?” I hear Mason ask. Lifting my head, I peek over Lake’s shoulder and see both Falcon and Mason staring at Kingsley who’s lying haphazardly across the bed.

  This time when Lake pulls away, I let go of him, even though I’d be happy to hug him right through the night.

  “Thank you,” I say again. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to say that enough to him.

  He lifts a hand to the left side of my face, and a sad look crosses his features as he brushes his thumb over the bruise on my jaw. “You’re welcome.”

  With his hand being so close to my face, a glimpse of red catches my eye. Reaching up, I take hold of Lake’s hand so I can see it better. There are bruises on his knuckles, and the sight of them upsets me all over again.

  “You got hurt? I’m sorry.”

  “You should see what –” Mason stops mid-sentence when Falcon slaps him against the arm.

  “She doesn’t need to know,” he whispers, giving Mason a look of warning.

  “Let me put some of the ointment the doctor left on your hand.” I pull Lake to the foot of my bed and nod towards it. “Sit down.” I try to force a smile as I walk by Falcon and Mason, but immediately feel self-conscious of the marks on my face. Grabbing the ointment, I keep my eyes on it while walking back to Lake. I kneel down on the floor and welcome the distraction of tending to his cuts.

  When I’m done, and desperately need something else to do, I offer, “Can I make you all coffee?”

  “No, thanks,” Mason answers first. “I’m going to head up to the suite. I just wanted to check on you.”