Wrecked: A Novel (Charming Knights Book 1)

by Shana Vanterpool

  “Make the deposit.”

  He started a timer on the screen, and then his fingers began flying across the keyboard. Numbers flew within the encoding interface. At six seconds, he was already out and cracking his knuckles.

  “One mill invested by W,” he said. “Can I play Minecraft now?”

  I gave up trying to figure out Storm years ago. His eerie intelligence made him different, and that was cool with me as long as he wasn’t hacking into my life. Plus, he kept everything close to his chest. Never said anything to anyone. I trusted few, would never let myself make that mistake, but I’d never see Storm’s betrayal coming anyway, and thought the gain was worth the threat.

  “How hard would it be to plant a camera in someone’s room?” I fell on my bed, staring at the side of his face.

  He smirked at the screen, the light from the screen making his face glow. “I thought you were over your stalking phase?”

  I grunted.

  “Easy, Wreck. Get Tula to stick a book on her bookshelf with a wireless camera built in the spine. She doesn’t read the classics on her shelf. They’re just for show. Everything’s on her Kindle. I’ll hook it up to her Wi-Fi—she never scans anything—and you can stream it 24/7 onto your laptop, phone, or tablet. I wouldn’t download anything, though, just in case she does decide to run a scan. She’ll never trace it back to you if she finds a leech. She’ll change her password and we can start all over again.”

  Sometimes, he freaked me the fuck out. “Okay.” And sometimes, I freaked myself out more. “Get everyone out of my house, would you?” I tore my shirt off and unbuckled my jeans.

  “Kellen gone?” he guessed.

  I closed my bathroom door and stood there momentarily, trying to align my emotions into a way I could manage them. But they were scattered, confused, and the pain in my throat was growing harder to ignore.

  After showering, I dressed in all black. By the time I came down, my house was silent, like it always was. 45,000 square feet of pure disgusting indulgence. I could go weeks without running into any one of the staff, but things somehow got done. The mess my party created would be cleaned up before I got back home. I tore off a few bills from the stack in my pocket and slipped them under the new housekeeper’s door.

  Not because I felt bad. That was their job. In a house where we all came and went, there was no need for a staff as large as we kept. The live-in housekeepers were here for me.

  My Mercedes glided around the pitch-black canyon road, heading across it. I eased off onto an unmarked road and turned my headlights off, cloaking me into complete darkness. The mansion within my view was built into the crag like mine. High atop the city like a kingdom. The fourth window on the second story’s lights were still on.

  I’d set her earrings on her desk. It faced the window from where I hid. I dug the binoculars out from under my seat and aimed them where I wanted them. The earring box was opened, and the contents were missing.

  I sighed.

  My little star deserved to know she was one. To shine even as the darkness fought for her light.

  Fumbling blindly, I picked up my phone and sent her a text.

  Me: Home safe?

  Her body came into view, picking up her phone and reading her text. She was wearing her pajamas. My cock twitched in my black jeans. Her shorts were creamy silk, short, no panties. They cupped her cherry-shaped ass perfectly. Her top was sheer cream silk, no bra. Her petite tits were so perky I heard myself swallow. Her nipples were hard, teasing the silk top. I’d give my left nut to taste them. To taste any part of her.

  Our first kiss had gone in a rush of anger and fear. Only hours ago. Gone so fast I’d barely been able to enjoy it. I had, of course I had, but I’d wanted it my way.

  Slow, deep, and claiming.

  I felt nothing most days, and those nothing-filled days became weeks, and months, and then years of emptiness that fed my rage.

  There were rare days, nights, cloaked in darkness, where I felt every single thing I feared. Want so intense my body and mind felt wrought with desire. Emotions so consuming I couldn’t discern them all. I felt the life in my veins, the threat gone as I admitted what I really wanted out of this life.

  Her.

  My star.

  The only bright spot in my life.

  My luminous ball of gas in my black hole universe.

  My undoubtable undoing.

  Hallie: How very protective fake boyfriend of you. How’s the party?

  She bit her lip as she texted, the golden earrings gleaming in her ears.

  Me: Sex. Everywhere.

  She frowned, tapping faster.

  Hallie: You can’t exactly keep up the farce AND stick your stick in other women. What’s the point in doing this if you’re going to blow it so soon?

  “I might think you’re jealous if you don’t stop, my little star.” I didn’t text back, watching her pace her room, glaring at the screen. My phone vibrated.

  Hallie: Screw you, Wreckmond.

  She threw her phone on her bed and left the view of her window, going right toward her bathroom. I waited a long time, staring at nothing, breathing evening out, until, finally she returned. She picked up her phone and scowled.

  Hallie: This is my heart we’re talking about. I know you don’t care about it. You’re doing this for whatever stupid reason you have, but I’m doing this to keep the only thing I love.

  She had no idea.

  I texted back slowly.

  Me: You’re glowing, even if you don’t see the light.

  Her head snapped up when she read my text, going over to pick up the letter W had written her when he left her gift. Her mouth fell open and I saw her hand go to her chest, putting two and two together. All those gifts, all those years.

  She called me.

  I turned my phone off and went home.

  ***

  I knew it was picking the lock on my cage, but I stayed in the shadows. Not for any other reason than to shield myself from the light for a little while longer.

  Dr. Preps had already called me out of school thanks to my football injury—now was the time for air quotes—and father was in Brazil for the start of the Olympic Games. He’d be gone for at least a month covering the achievements of others while my failures piled up. Mother barely bothered to say hello when we were in the same room and wouldn’t notice I was gone if I actually did disappear someday.

  Storm was watching Hallie.

  I was in my Mercedes speeding out of Charmant like there were actual hands reaching for me as I made my escape. My phone was off.

  My walls were down.

  And my bait was finally starting to realize how deep my hunger might really go.

  There were no fucking air quotes around any of this shit.

  I didn’t know where I was going. Didn’t think it mattered. I needed to breathe if I was going to suffocate for the rest of my life.

  9. DARK KNIGHT

  Hallie

  Illa was in the kitchen thAT morning.

  I could smell her perfume, floral and cotton-like, long before I stepped into the room. The sun shone in thickly through the skylight. Of course, I didn’t feel it. The air was on to the perfect temperature. I didn’t sweat until I was out in the open, and even then, my pores forbade me from ever shining.

  I saw her bent over the island, setting out a place. Forks, plates, and a bottle of the cheapest most watered down high fructose orange juice sold. My favorite. She twisted the top and poured it into the crystal glass, tossing the evidence in the garbage.

  I ran over and hugged her from behind, wrapping my arms so tightly around her body from behind I could overlap her twice if I tried. Her softness and warmth melted against my cold hard parts. I inhaled her back and squeezed harder, pushing back my tears. In seconds, it felt like I was cracking. As if my breaks were a lot larger than I’d been ignoring.

  “It’s only been a couple days, baby doll.” She sounded confused. Which meant Father hadn’t let her know that
her future was dangling from a shred.

  And that shred wasn’t answering my calls.

  He was threatening the only love I had left. Kicking up rocks I hadn’t known were upside down and showing me shadows I’d been blind to.

  “Oh, Illa.” I released her and smiled through the sheen in my eyes.

  She raised a dark brow at me. “You sleep last night?”

  Illa was the only person in my entire life to care about me. She didn’t have to. It wasn’t part of her pay. My own parents hadn’t bothered. But she’d kissed my scrapes and hugged me when I was so lonely I could feel the hollow all over, because she was good. Free. Without her I was trapped, wingless, unable to fly. I didn’t want to soar, I just wanted to glide.

  So, I donned my Goodford mask and blinked my sadness away. “No, not really. I guess I’m just PMS’ing.”

  “Hmm.” She pursed her lips and put her hand on her hip. “I’m old, Hallie. Not stupid. What’s wrong?”

  “I made out with Wreckmond on Friday,” I blurted out. Okay, that wasn’t technically a lie, but it was a defeat within a struggle, and it felt damn important to me. I’d been lost in that kiss all weekend. I reached up and touched my earlobe, turning the little golden star in a circle.

  Couldn’t be.

  She gasped, her mouth popping open. “Made out how?”

  “Are there different kinds?”

  “Sure. Did you dream it or did you legit make out with him?”

  It was my turn to quirk a brow. “Legit? What are you? Fifteen?” I sat at the bar and grabbed the orange juice, taking a sip. “Thank you, Illa.”

  “How’d that happen?”

  “I went to a party at his place for the Charming Knights. And it just sort of happened.”

  “Well,” she prompted, growing impatient as she took items out of cloth grocery bags. “How was it?”

  I bit my lip to trap my smile. It had no right on my face. That kiss wasn’t happiness, it was sealing holes so bigger ones wouldn’t implode. But it had been what I craved. A measured recklessness, like falling toward the earth and engaging my parachute right before I plummeted. It was living and disobeying in the middle of rules and lies.

  “It was… surprising.”

  Her eyes twinkled. “First kiss since Tristan. How did that feel?”

  I swung my feet, hitting the toe of my Manolo Blahnik peep toe booties against the bar. W bought them for me. Left them on May 1st this spring with a letter. I didn’t even know why I bothered reading them anymore.

  Wear these.

  There the only size 7.5’s left in the world. Thanks a lot for having a shoe size right in the middle of small and normal.

  W

  Since I was four-years-old, W had been leaving me gifts. Insanely perfect gifts like whoever it was, was in my head and heart. Some of them were harder to toss than others. Some of them were easy to lob in the trash can. I’d stopped wondering who they were over the years. Some part of me had hoped they were from my father, but they were too personal to be from him. Illa couldn’t afford them. Mother would have someone else buy them for me. There was no one else who knew me well enough to buy me things I loved. Not because of the price tag, but because they had been picked for me.

  I frowned at my egg whites—Illa’s rule breaking only went so far—and pushed a chunk of zucchini around on my plate. Staring at her back as she restocked the fridge, my mind itched to talk to Wreck. One look at him and I’d know. I could still be wrong. Maybe W was some creepy stalker and he had Wreck’s phone, or worse, he was the reason he wasn’t answering his phone at all.

  “I didn’t even think about him,” I finally admitted.

  Just you, Illa.

  Wreck’s Mercedes was parked under the almond trees in the student parking lot when I arrived. The sight of it infuriated me. I’d called the bastard all weekend to only get his voicemail.

  I pulled the Audi into the spot beside his to find that he was sitting in the driver’s seat. Hands on the steering wheel. Head straight. Not looking at me whatsoever. Hair styled perfectly. The warm brown strands caught the light of morning and the sun turned them into butterscotch and chocolate. Stupid bastard was gorgeous.

  Hard, mature face angled at the sun to highlight every solid ridge. The stubble on his jaw, the tan suede hooded bomber jacket, large hands gripping the wheel. He either didn’t see me or didn’t care as he put his shades on and got out, his oil black jeans fitting his long lean body like a second skin. His boyishness from Friday was all gone this morning.

  He was all untouchable man.

  My phone rang.

  Smiling to myself, I dug it out and answered it without looking at the caller or saying anything.

  In front of me, he had his phone to his ear. “It’s Monday. Ready to play?”

  “Come open my door and kiss me good morning.” I hung up and waited, watching his lips twitch as he made his way over to me. He opened my door and gave me his hand.

  It was cool, smooth. He helped me up. He parked in the perfect spot. In the middle of the parking lot under the most visible spot. Almond trees overhead, sun glaring down. We were sheathed in gold and warmth.

  “You have an incredible amount of explaining to do,” I whispered as his lips came for me. I closed my eyes when they met mine and refrained from sighing against his lips. They were the sun. Warm, comforting, encompassing. The taste of vanilla and mint clung to them; my fingers wrapped around his shoulders and I rose on my toes, holding on to him as Romeo and Juliet tasted their end.

  I felt and heard a deep rumble groan from his chest and throat. My back hit the outside of my car. His hands wound around my hips, inching the top of my black A-line skirt higher on my waist. I never realized how my height put my lips a tippy-toes rise to perfectly align with his lips. Of course, he had to lean down, but it felt in that moment like we had found the perfect amount of reach and rise, neither stretching too far so the other didn’t have to compensate.

  His lips were slow, measured, but still somehow consuming. Savoring. I felt desired in the headiest way. Not just sought after for stupid reasons, but desired for all the right ones. His tongue slid across my bottom lip, hot and pressing as he asked for permission to enter me. I kissed him deeper, giving him no answer. Part of me didn’t want him to ask for permission right now. Not when I felt so hot, so devoured. I wanted him to take me. Put his tongue in my mouth and taste every inch of me.

  I wanted it.

  Give it to me! Take me.

  “Miss Goodford!”

  Faintly, I heard the reprimand, but I didn’t want to hear much more. Wreck’s body was pressed so tightly against mine, his erection was on fire between my thighs, touching where my skirt didn’t. He wanted to take me. Wanted to rip his chains off and feel. I knew he did. I saw it on the football field. The way he ran, the way he was free for even a few seconds.

  His body was off me so fast, I felt like my time in heaven was gone. I fell back to earth. The fall was excruciating.

  Professor Seneca had Wreck by the collar, shouting. I couldn’t hear him. My heart looked around in disappointment, wanted to know what we were still doing here.

  Weren’t we touching the sun a few seconds ago?

  Wreck shoved him off and patted the wrinkles from his coat. “Get the fuck out of here,” he dismissed Professor Seneca. “And the next time you interrupt me, I won’t be so forgiving, you hear me?” His gaze hardened into stone.

  “Wreck,” I chastised. “Sorry, Professor.” My breath came whooshing back and the fire of my embarrassment burned across my flesh. “I’m sorry. We’ll stop.”

  He looked at me with sadness in his eyes. “I think it’s probably too late for that.” He nodded at me like I was a stranger and took off, leaving me panting, red-faced, against my Audi with my fake boyfriend, whose kiss didn’t feel fake at all.

  “What’s his fucking problem?” Wreck growled, pushing his sunglasses up into his hair. “He got a hard on for you?”

  “No,”
I rushed out. “No. He just… Wreck, no.”

  His eyes lowered. “He just what?”

  “He gets me, I don’t know. It’s nothing, but we’re friends. Don’t do what you’re thinking about doing.” I grabbed his jacket and held his gaze. “Don’t be my father.”

  “He wants you.”

  I rolled my eyes and released him, pulling my skirt back down and straightening my blouse. “No, he doesn’t. No one in this entire world would be dumb enough to want me.” I leaned into my car and grabbed my bag, speaking to the interior when I added, “except W.” But when I straightened, his eyes gave nothing away. “If Professor Seneca isn’t in class today I’ll—”

  “He’ll be in class,” he said quietly, eyes faraway. “It’s about what you want, remember, Hallie?”

  “Then why didn’t you answer me all weekend? I wanted to talk to you. Where were you?”

  He started walking toward the front steps, those outside lucky enough to spy the spectacle of our lives holding in their gossip until our backs were turned to them. I could feel the breath of their bullshit down my spine as Wreck and I took the stairs to Charming High.

  “You never mentioned the weekend. You mentioned Monday. I’m here. And so far, the show has been… entertaining.” He moved his shades over his eyes and then looked at me. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  Was he crazy? Honestly, was he insane? I hadn’t ever considered it before, but I hadn’t been in a situation like this before either. One moment we were acquaintances, and now I had this nagging feeling that was all smoke and mirrors. We were close. Like two birds in identical cages facing each other. We only flew as far as the other.

  I spied him from the corner of my eye. “What’s W going to buy me next, Wreckmond? A matching necklace. You know,” I continued, watching for a reaction. “I’m not only into objects. If he cares as much as he seems to care about me, maybe he should try something other than overpriced high heels and jewelry.”