by R. A. Smyth
I can’t tear my eyes away from my father as all of them sit down on the opposite side of the large boardroom table. He looks so normal. Yeah, he’s got a suffocating air of arrogance around him, but he doesn’t look like someone that would be involved in the kidnapping and grooming of a little girl. Shouldn’t he give off some sort of sicko signal?
“We need to discuss this new development with Elizabeth,” Hawk’s dad states, his words cutting through my thoughts. It sounds so weird to hear her being called Elizabeth, and I turn the name over in my head. Yeah, I can’t imagine calling her that. It was Hadley that I called out when I was dick deep inside of her. Hadley is what she will always be to me.
“I take it you got the DNA results back?” Hawk asks.
“We did. She is who you thought she was.”
Obviously. Who the fuck else was she going to be? We had our own DNA results, but of course that wasn’t good enough for any of them.
“What happened to her? Where has she been all this time?” Hawk demands, staring pointedly at his father.
“We’re looking into that.”
That doesn’t bring me any of the comfort that it should.
“What does that mean? How did she even go missing in the first place?” Anger, as per usual, gets the better of Hawk as he practically snarls out the words, and his father’s eyes narrow, not appreciating his son’s tone.
“Watch it,” Barton growls in warning.
Everyone else is observing us closely, their faces void of any emotion. I can’t keep myself from repeatedly glancing toward my father, trying to pick up on any little tell that he was involved in any of this. I mean, he has to be, right?
“Like your mother told you the other day, she just disappeared.”
“How?” Hawk is walking a dangerous line with his tone, not that I can blame him. We’re all anxious for answers; him and Hadley most of all.
“We were having a party, and the two of you were up in your room. The nanny had put you to bed and claimed she didn’t hear anything all night. The next morning when she went to get you, Elizabeth was gone.” He shrugs his shoulders casually like that discovery wasn’t life altering for him or his family. “We questioned everyone who was at the party, but no one had seen or heard anything suspicious, and when we couldn’t find any leads, we had to accept she was gone.”
That was it? They asked a few fucking questions and then they just gave up on her? What the fuck is wrong with these people?
It takes everything in me to hold my tongue, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see Mason’s body coiled tight, just as furious as I am about the bullshit coming out of Barton’s mouth.
“And you didn’t think to go to the police?” Hawk argues.
“You know we couldn’t have done that. Not with the line of work we’re in,” West’s dad pipes up dismissively.
Right. Can’t have the authorities finding out about your little mercenary business. Much more important than finding your missing daughter. The whole fucking lot of them are nut jobs.
“We hired a PI at the time,” Barton states, as if that’s some sort of compromise for not going to the cops. “But he couldn’t find any leads.”
It’s clear Hadley meant nothing to them. She wasn’t worthy of investing the time or resources into tracking down, and they obviously don’t give a shit where she’s been living or what she’s been through the last fifteen odd years.
“The more pressing concern is what we do now that she’s shown up,” Maria Davenport speaks up, not sounding the slightest bit relieved to have her daughter back. If anything, she makes it sound like this new development—the return of her fucking daughter—is an inconvenience.
“What do you mean?” I question, struggling to keep the sharpness out of my tone.
“We need you to keep an eye on her and find out what you can about her.”
“We’ve already looked into her past,” Hawk informs them. “She’s just a foster kid who got a scholarship here. Pac is one of the most prestigious schools in the country, so it’s not much of a stretch that she would end up there.”
“It’s good to see you taking some initiative, son,” Barton says, a proud gleam in his eyes. “Lawrence has already confirmed the same, but nonetheless, we can’t be too careful. Especially now.”
Well, that’s not suspicious as fuck that my dad confirmed her background. And what the hell does he mean by ‘especially now’?
“Alright, we’ll stay close to her,” Hawk agrees, sounding reluctant. It’s all for show though. If anything, this works in our favor.
“We’ve also been hearing from disgruntled parents that you boys refused to pick a girl last month,” Mason’s dad takes over, looking furious as he brings up the topic. “What the hell is going on there?” he demands, his sharp tone enough to have Mason sitting straighter in his chair.
That man has fucked his son up good. Mason does his best to hide it, but there’s no denying his dad has done one hell of a number on him.
“When we found out about Ha…Elizabeth, we decided it was time for a change in traditions,” Hawk explains easily, as though it’s no big deal.
“Did you now?” There’s a warning growl in Frank’s voice. “Don’t you think this is something you should have discussed with us.”
Hawk’s jaw tightens. “I thought you wanted us to prove to you we could control the school.”
“What Frank is trying to say,” Barton interrupts, “is that we don’t understand your decision to do away with a tradition that's been effective for generations.”
“The senior girls were getting too big-headed about it. They’ve formed a club and everything, and it’s only serving to make them harder to control. I figured changing things up and having Elizabeth take over control of the girls would be a good way to test if she’s cut out to be a Davenport.”
Our parents are silent as they think over Hawk’s proposal.
“It’s an interesting idea,” Barton speaks up, “but let’s stick with the tradition for now. We’ll see how Elizabeth handles coming out as a Davenport, and then go from there.”
“Elizabeth should also be included in the tradition,” Maria chimes in. “It will be good to see how she handles the vultures. She’s pretty enough. We could get some useful contracts out of her.”
What the fuck? Does this woman only see her daughter as a bargaining chip? Tension seeps into the air, none of us keen on the idea of Hadley being involved in the tradition. Casting a subtle glance toward my father, his eyes are narrowed and his jaw clenched. Nope, he’s not a fan of that idea either. I wonder what he’d think if he knew three of us have fucked her—four if you count Beck, which I’m assuming, we can. Not that I’d tell him any of that. He’s controlling enough that he’d do something reckless if he ever found out. Something that would only put Hadley in greater danger.
“Yes, a good idea,” Barton agrees, neither of them giving two shits about the fact they’re basically pimping out their daughter to the senior boys. To what end? The whole point of the tradition is so the next generation of male heirs can prove to their parents they are capable of running a multimillion-dollar conglomerate one day. Sure, families from all over the country enroll their children in Pac Prep in the hopes that they can make friends—or more—with us, and gain their families a foot in the door when it comes to doing business with our parents. But what do our parents really gain from it all? They have their pick of companies to do business with. Is it all a control thing? A way for them to seem more important than they are?
None of us can protest or say anything about involving Hadley in the tradition without raising any red flags that might have our parents realizing we care more about her than we’re letting on. Instead, we’re all forced to nod and agree with their asinine idea.
How the fuck this is going to work is beyond me. I might not be dating Hadley or anything, but she still consumes my every thought. The idea of sticking my dick in any other chick is seriously unappealing. Despite th
e fact it’s been fucking ages since I had sex, my cock doesn’t even stir at the thought of having a sure thing lay. All it wants—all I want—is Hadley, and the thought of watching some douche from school with his arm draped over her, acting like she’s his, pisses me the fuck off.
“Right, now that we’ve sorted that out, let's move on to Easter break. The four of you will be spending the break at the company, shadowing each of us and learning the ropes. You’ll also be expected to attend our annual open day later in the year so you can get an understanding of the quality of recruits we have. Then, when you graduate, you’ll start taking on some of the smaller responsibilities.”
“What about Beck?” West asks in a tight voice. “What’s his job?”
“Don’t worry about him.” Wilbert waves off his question. “He’s already doing his job.”
Huh. We didn’t know that. What the hell is he doing for them? Maybe it’s time we had a little chat with him, especially if he’s keeping secrets. We’ve let him in because he’s West’s brother, not to mention the fact he’s dating Hadley. And he appeared genuinely shocked and horrified at Christmas when he found out what our parents did, but what the fuck do we actually know about him? Normally, West would have researched the fuck out of someone new in our lives, but he’s completely buried his head in the sand when it comes to his brother, choosing to pretend he doesn’t exist. Well, he’s done with that shit now. If his brother is involved in stuff with our parents, we need to know whose side he’s on. And if it’s not ours, he needs to go.
Having apparently discussed everything they needed to, our parents get to their feet.
“Oh, one more thing,” Barton begins. “We will be announcing Elizabeth’s return home tonight. We expect you all to be there. Let her know.”
Without waiting for a response, the six of them filter out, and once we’re alone, the four of us share a knowing glance.
“Not here,” Hawk states in a quiet order, when I open my mouth to speak. Nodding, the four of us exit the boardroom silently, none of us saying a word as we leave the building and get into the car, heading back to campus.
“Not it!” I rush out, throwing my arms in the air the second we’re all standing back on campus, watching the car drive away. “I’m not telling her.” No fucking way do I want to be the one to tell her that not only do West and Mason have to continue picking a girl each month, but she has to pick a guy too.
“Not it,” West and Mason echo quickly, making Hawk scowl at all of us.
“I’m not fucking telling her,” he insists. “She’ll tear my balls off. At least she has a vested interest in you keeping yours.”
“Sorry, dude.” I shrug. “You lost.”
He presses his lips together, mumbling something about ‘not it’ being a stupid fucking way to decide anything as he stomps toward the dorms. I’d laugh, but I’m fairly certain he’s walking into his own funeral.
Chapter 3
“What the hell, Hadley?!” Hawk barks out. Oh great, he found me. Now he can yell at me in person, instead of via text.
He and the others got back several hours ago, and I got a string of pissed off messages when he discovered I wasn’t in his apartment where he ordered me to stay. Yeah, that shit was never going to fly.
“Calm your tits, big guy.” His eyes narrow to deathly slits, and I have to swallow my laughter. “I’ve been here the whole time. See”—I wave my hand over myself—“totally fine.”
Such a fucking temperamental bastard. All I did was come to the library, where I’m surrounded by students. It’s not like I decided to go for a walk alone in the forest. Even if I did decide to do that, I can totally handle myself. Although, I guess he doesn’t know that, so fair enough. I have every right to be pissed off, though. I didn’t fucking escape Lawrence and everything else just so he, or anyone, could boss me around. Hell no. There’s no fucking way.
When he continues to glower at me, I change the topic. “What happened at the meeting?”
Sighing, he lets go of some of his anger, sitting down beside me so we can whisper quietly without worrying about any nosy students nearby overhearing us.
“Not much. We have to spend Easter break with them, learning the ropes.” He scrunches his nose up, not fond of that idea.
“That sucks,” I empathize. “But it could be a good opportunity to get some dirt on them or to find something that we can use to help bring them down.”
Hawk’s eyes roam over my face for a second before he responds, “Is that what we’re going to do? Destroy them?”
The way I see it, there’s only two options. “Well, do you want to work for them, knowing the truth of what they do?”
“Hell no.” He stares at me with wide eyes like I’m insane.
I shrug my shoulders. “Then, we have to take them down.”
After a second, he chuckles, shaking his head like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You make it sound so simple when it’s going to be anything but. Not only do they have the financial means and know-how to evade discovery all these years, but they have a fucking army at their beck and call.”
He’s right. It’s a Herculean task if ever there was one. But then, escaping the compound seemed impossible too, and I achieved that all by myself. So why can’t the six of us achieve this?
Dropping the topic for now, he leans back in his chair, running his hand through his hair as he watches me closely.
“Our parents are throwing a party tonight,” he blurts out.
“Okay.” I shrug, not caring about some meaningless party filled with rich assholes who all think they’re god’s gift to humanity, as I focus my attention back on my homework. “Have fun with that.”
The guys may have had a face-to-face meeting today with the parents, but no one has reached out to me since I took the DNA test. Although Hawk hasn’t mentioned it yet—looks like he’s getting the mundane news out of the way first—I’m assuming the results were discussed today, but jeez, is it asking too much to pick up the phone and let me know too? Apparently so. I guess they’ve been too busy planning a party to bother with little old me.
Despite my complaining, I’m more than happy for them to leave me alone. I just don’t like decisions being made about me behind my back, and I’m sure that’s what happened this afternoon.
“We’re all invited. You too.” The bottom of my stomach drops out as I tear my eyes away from the homework I was working on, giving Hawk my full attention.
“I’m what? Why?”
“The DNA results are back.”
What the fuck...That doesn’t explain anything.
Seeing my look of utter confusion, he continues, “This is how things are done in our world.”
Nope, he’s still not making any sense.
He taps a finger against the wooden table, leaning in toward me. “You best put on your finest jewelry, ‘cause tonight you’re coming out as a Davenport.” Hawk’s words send an ominous chill down my spine. “Welcome to the family, Elizabeth.”
***
West had yet another dress delivered for me to wear tonight. The fact that my wardrobe mostly consists of fancy, over-priced dresses does not sit well with me. I’m a jeans and t-shirt girl. All this expensive shit is just not me. I want to open my wardrobe and see clothes that I want to wear, something that is me.
Regardless, the dress he bought is beautiful. It’s a deep, midnight-blue, with a high jewel neckline—West once again ensuring my scars aren’t on display for every asshole to gawk at—and falls to the floor at the back, with the front lifting so it finishes mid-thigh. Diamante are sown into the fabric on either side of my waist, looking like twinkling stars against the dark material when the light hits them.
Emilia once again does my hair and makeup, her constant chatter helping to ease the waves of nausea that keep rolling through my stomach, as sweat coats my forehead and makes my palms slick.
“You need to calm down, girl,” she admonishes, seeing how fucking stressed out I am. She m
oves to stand in front of me, pinning me in place with her serious expression. “You’ve stood tall against Bianca and her bitches, and the Princes all year. You’ve got this.”
It’s a decent pep talk, and I give her a weak smile in thanks, but dealing with Bianca and the guys was nothing in comparison to what I’m going to face tonight.
I’m not ready. I don’t want this.
Why the fuck did I let those shitheads talk me into this?
I lift my hand, fiddling with the necklace West got me for my birthday, closing my eyes as I try to draw some sense of calm from it.
My heart rate starts to settle, the churning in my stomach slowing, but a knock on the door breaks me out of my reverie, and I scowl as I stomp toward it in my heels.
Yanking the door open, I glower at Hawk, pissed off that he interrupted the zen I had going, not to mention the fact he talked me into this stupid, half-cocked idea. Really, I’m just happy to cling to my anger rather than sit in the sickening anxiety I’ve been struggling through since he informed me about tonight.
Ignoring the dark glare I’m giving him, he roams his eyes over my dress and matching heels.
“It’ll do, I guess,” he laments, looking unimpressed with my ensemble. I bark out a half-hysterical laugh, finding some reassurance in his dickish behavior. I just hope Emilia didn’t hear him. She’ll have a bitch fit that her hours of primping weren’t acknowledged.
A small smile lifts one side of his lip, and I think it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him smile. Not that you could really call it that. It’s so small, barely more than a twitch, and he quickly wipes it off his face.
“Where are the others?” I ask, looking past him, half expecting to find the rest of the guys standing in the hall behind him. One is rarely far from the others.
“They’re already on the way there. It’s better if they arrive separately.”
Right. Can’t let any of our parents know how close we’ve all gotten in the last few months. God, things are getting so complicated.