by R. A. Smyth
“Morning, creeper.” His deep voice is thick with sleep and he still doesn’t open his eyes, but his hands slide up my thighs, resting on my hips and pulling me down so I’m sprawled across him.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” I murmur against the soft skin of his neck.
“Then you probably shouldn’t have been climbing all over me.”
Okay, fair point, but he just looked so peaceful, I had to get a closer look.
“How’s West?”
“He’s doing okay. He didn’t sleep well so I’m letting him rest a bit longer.”
He nods his head, his eyes still closed as his fingers trace lazy circles on my back.
“How are you?” I know last night got to him, regardless of how well he tried to hide it.
He sighs, finally peeling his eyes open and looking up at me with a soft smile. He kisses the crown of my head before resting his head back on the pillow and staring at the ceiling above us.
“I was so worried about him,” he admits. “I only just found him, and he still fucking hates me. The thought of something bad happening to him before we have a chance to get to know one another…” He trails off, but he doesn’t need to finish that sentence. I know what he means. Hawk drives me fucking insane, but we’re only beginning to get to know each other, and the thought of losing him now, just when things are starting to go well for us? Well, I can’t bear to think about it.
“I don’t know how to make things better between us.” The tightening of his fingers on my hip tells me how much the friction between him and West is getting to him. “I’ve tried opening up about my childhood, so he could get to know me, but he doesn’t even want to spend time with me. I don’t know what else I can do.”
I run my fingers through his hair, hoping it will take away some of the tension that has his body wound so tight. He snorts at whatever he’s thinking, shaking his head at his inner thoughts. “I stupidly thought admitting why I was doing what I was for our parents, and why I couldn’t tell anyone about it, would help him warm up to me. I thought if he knew I was doing it all for him, to keep him alive, it would make a difference. Not because I want him to owe me or because I feel obligated to, but because I want to be in his life, and I want us to have a future where we have the opportunity to get to know each other.”
“So, you really are only doing it for me?”
Beck and I both jump. My eyes dart up to look at West standing in the doorway in his pajama bottoms, staring bleary-eyed at Beck, and I carefully climb off Beck so he can sit up.
His gaze never leaves West as he responds, “Yeah.”
“What about the money? And the fancy job and better career prospects?”
“I don’t care about any of that. Every cent our father has given me is sitting in a bank account. I’ve never touched it and I don’t plan on it. As for the job, I can’t deny it’s not an amazing opportunity that I’m hoping will benefit me some day, but I wouldn’t have accepted his shady offer for that reason alone.”
West’s eyes dart between Beck’s, trying to ascertain the truth in his words. “So why did you take it then? You had to know it would come with strings you wouldn’t want to pull on.”
Beck nods his head slowly. “I did, but after losing touch with my brothers all those years ago, the opportunity to connect with you, my real brother, was more than I could pass up. It’s not like I ever expected us to be friends or anything, but I wanted the chance to get to know you. To see that you were doing okay, and, yeah, I hoped we could maybe have some sort of relationship one day.” He shrugs casually like it’s no big deal, but this is a huge fucking deal, and I can practically feel the stress radiating off him as he waits to hear what his brother says next.
West’s eyes bounce to me, and I silently implore him to give Beck a chance. He’s got no idea how fucking worth it it will be.
Looking back at Beck, he takes another few seconds to mull it over before nodding his head.
“Okay,” he agrees slowly. “I’ll stop icing you out.”
No longer able to hold back my grin, I squeeze Beck’s arm in excitement.
“But if it turns out anything you’re telling me, or any of us, is bullshit, you’ll be out of here so fucking fast it will all feel like a distant memory. You won’t see me, or Hadley again.”
Okay, I don’t appreciate him making decisions like that for me, and I make it clear with the scowl I aim his way, my glare sharp enough it could pierce a hole in the front of his forehead, right between his eyes. But I let it slide because I know that won’t happen. I understand he still doesn’t trust him fully, and I—of all people—can appreciate that.
“Alright, now that we have all agreed we’re on the same team, sit your ass down,” I tell West in a no-nonsense tone, getting to my feet. “I’ll get you some painkillers. You should really still be in bed, resting.”
“I’m fine,” he assures me, ambling slowly over to one of the armchairs and carefully lowering himself into it so as not to jostle any of his many bruises. In the light of day, and now that the blood has had time to rise to the surface of his skin, he looks fucking awful. Still hot as sin, of course, but it’s painfully obvious he was put through the ringer last night.
Despite his insistence that he’s fine, he doesn’t argue with me when I give him the meds and a glass of water, quickly downing them and relaxing back in his chair as I go to make us all some coffee. I have a feeling we’re going to need it.
***
None of us go to class for the rest of the week. Since West isn’t a fighter like Mason or Hawk, his sudden bruised appearance will only raise unwanted questions, and with the gauntlet hanging over our heads, the rest of us need to strategize about our next moves. So the five of us hole up in their apartment, relying on gossip from Emilia and Beck to keep us up to date on what's going on in the rest of the school.
The only time we leave is to go to Cam’s swimming competition on Saturday. He’s in the regional championships, which means nothing to me, but it’s something he’s proud of, and we all want to be there to support him. He’s been in the pool every spare minute he’s had—which admittedly is not as much as he probably would have liked considering all we’ve had going on. With a hoodie pulled up over his head, hiding the last of the bruising on his face, West was able to join us, and we watch Cam as he once again kicks ass—and looks fucking panty-melting doing it.
Of course, Lawrence can’t let the occasion go by without a visit, and this time, as he stands by the poolside, his gaze remains fixed on me, where I sit in the stands beside Hawk. I do my best to ignore it, but his eyes burn into me like a laser. I have to curtail my enthusiasm for Cam’s win, not wanting to alert Lawrence to my intense feelings for his son, but as Cam stalks into the locker room afterward, and the guys get to their feet around me, I can’t help glancing his way. I instantly regret it, as the corner of his lip curls up in a confident sneer, momentarily immobilizing me.
“Ignore him,” Hawk whispers in my ear, a scowl etched across his face as he gently pushes on my shoulder, nudging me forward. Ripping my eyes away from Lawrence, I follow the guys out of the stands, but I swear, even after we’re back in our dorm and Lawrence is long gone, I still feel his eyes on me.
On Monday morning, our masks are firmly in place as we throw open the doors to the dining hall and make our way to the Princes’ table amidst murmurs from the rest of the year. Taking our seats, I do my best to ignore the gawking and obvious whispers as breakfast is delivered. The five of us eat in silence—not that I manage to eat much with the lead lining my stomach—and once we’re finished, Hawk gives us the signal and we all get to our feet.
“We understand there have been issues regarding recent changes to the girl of the month tradition.” Hawk’s voice echoes around the room, loud and clear for everyone to hear.
My hands clench tightly around the edge of the wooden table, hating that we have to do this, but we’ve discussed it in depth over the last few days and none of us can se
e any way around it. Not yet at least. Not without putting West, and all of us, at risk.
“When we first discovered Elizabeth was a Davenport, we stopped the tradition as she needed the opportunity to come into her own here in the school. Now that that has been achieved, she has agreed to join us with the monthly tradition.”
I grit my teeth as excited whispers break out around the room from both guys and girls. It takes everything in me to hold back the truth I desperately want to let slip. It’s all a bunch of bullshit, but we can’t afford for the school to think we’re being forced into this. They need to think we are in charge, and this was the best excuse we could come up with after a week of mulling it over.
“So,” Hawk bellows, bringing everyone's attention back to us. “Starting today, all five of us will be choosing a girl, or guy, for the month. The same rules as before apply.”
Without further ado, Hawk points out some girl, and the same song and dance as every other time ensues. The other guys do the same, and despite the fact they barely spare whatever random girl they choose a second glance, every time they pick someone, it makes my blood boil. Mental images of me stabbing our parents flitter across my mind as I make a silent promise that one day those thoughts will be a reality.
All too soon, it’s my turn. When Hawk first mentioned me participating in this archaic tradition, I’d just assumed I’d pick Michael, but after Barton’s little ‘you know who’s suitable speech,’ we all agreed it couldn’t be a scholarship student.
The guys gave me a few names of families our parents would deem ‘suitable’ that weren’t total assholes, but looking out over the eager crowd, I don’t know who any of them are.
As I roam my eyes over the rest of the hall, I play ‘eenie meenie miney mo’ in my head with each of the names I was given—it seems like as good a way as any to pick one.
Hawk coughs, a wordless gesture telling me to hurry the fuck up and get this over with, and after mentally cursing him out in my head, I call out the last name I was thinking.
“Daniel Fairweather.”
Roars erupt from a table in the middle of the room and guys clap some nerdy looking kid on the shoulder as his ears pinken. At least he looks more likely to keep his hands to himself. Meh, even if he doesn’t, I can just break them. That will teach him not to touch without permission.
After breakfast, the chosen girls all crowd around the guys, and rather than have to watch that shit, I wander off to find Daniel. He approaches me through the crowd, looking both cocky and unsure at the same time.
“Alright, Daniel,” I begin before he can say something that will only make me dislike him more. “This is how this is going to go. In public, we have to make it look like we’re dating, but do not touch me. Do not kiss me. There will be no sex. Got it?” His face falls with every order I bark, and he nods his head dejectedly. “Oh, and you can’t have sex with anyone else either for the month.”
I know. I bet he’s real happy about being the chosen one now, but I can’t have word spreading that my fake date is fucking other girls while he’s supposed to be with me. It would undermine everything I’ve spent the last few weeks achieving here.
“What—”
“Those are the rules,” I state, cutting him off. “It’s too late, you can’t back out or change your mind. And if you break any of them, you’ll have the distinct pleasure of meeting my bad side. Fair warning, she can be a downright bitch. Just ask Tiffany and Bianca.”
He pinches his lips, looking annoyed—not that I can blame him—but he agrees to my crappy terms nonetheless.
“Great.” I plaster a falsely bright smile on my face. “You can walk me to class then.”
The rest of the day isn’t too bad. I think I put the fear of God into Daniel as he does nothing more than graze my shoulder as he walks me to my first class, and I’m pretty sure it’s by accident because every time he does, he jumps a mile and mumbles an apology. I don’t see him for the rest of the day after that, and the guys manage to shake off their girls as well, so the six of us hide away in their dorm for lunch. Beck has started joining us for lunch most days, and it’s been great having all of us together. I’ve even noticed him and West talking a bit. It’s not much, but it’s an awesome start.
On Tuesday, the good mood leftover from yesterday drops right out of me as we enter the hall and the girls practically throw themselves at my guys. None of them look happy about the physical assault and are quick to extricate themselves, but still, seeing it fucking pisses me off. It only gets worse when we all sit down and I overhear Hawk’s girl telling him the fucked up shit she can do with her mouth. Hawk’s eyes fill with lust as he adjusts himself under the table, completely oblivious to the dangerous churning in my stomach. On my other side, Mason’s girl is pushing her tits against his arm, trying to gain his attention as he all but ignores her, shoveling his breakfast into him like it’s a race. It’s a little funny, but still annoying as hell.
“So,” I snap, turning my attention to Daniel in a bid to distract myself from going apeshit in front of the whole year. “Tell me about yourself.”
Daniel spends the rest of breakfast blathering on about his hopes and dreams. In fairness, he doesn’t seem like a total asshole, and the tension drops out of his shoulders with every passing minute that I don’t tear him a new one.
When the bell goes for class, we all get to our feet, and I give the guys a wistful smile as I let Daniel lead me out of the hall. He’s back to his nervous self as we walk toward the main building, and I can see his thoughts running a mile a minute as he mulls something over. Not caring what’s going on in his head, I let him stew as we walk on.
“Look,” he eventually blurts out. “I don’t know what your deal is.” I’m about to tear into him when he rushes out, “And I don’t care. You’re hot, and if you were interested, that would be awesome, but you’re not…right?”
“No,” I state bluntly.
“Right.” He nods like he expected that answer. “So if this is all for show, then it needs to look legit.” I ponder over what he’s implying and, realizing I’m open to listening to what he has to say, he continues, “You saw the way the girls are with the guys.”
I give him an unimpressed look, shooting him a snarky response. “I don’t need you pawing all over me, thanks.”
He laughs nervously. “That’s not quite what I was thinking. But people will expect me to have my arm around your shoulders, or carry your stuff. Things like that.”
I scrunch my nose. “I don’t need you to carry my shit; I’ve two perfectly good arms to carry it myself.”
He shrugs. “It’s just what guys do for girls they’re dating. I’m not talking making out in the hallway or anything like that, but there’s a few small things we could do that would prevent people from asking questions that I’m guessing you don’t want them to ask.”
Huh, maybe he’s not an asshole at all.
“And what do you get out of it?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I’m not looking for anything. Sure, if one day in the future you wanted to take pity on me and give me a job in your parents’ company or something, I wouldn’t say no, but just call it a gesture of good will.”
“Don’t you come from money? I’m sure you can find your own job or have your own company you’ll run some day?”
“My parents have money, but it’s my uncle who has made our family name popular. He’s the one that paid for me to come here, but he runs a vineyard, and I’m really more of an indoor person. I prefer working with computers and gadgets, rather than with people.”
Huh. “Alright, Daniel. You have yourself a deal.”
A huge grin lights up his face, and he cautiously throws his arm over my shoulder. I tense at the contact, not used to anyone other than my guys or Emilia touching me, but I slowly relax as he talks my ear off about his college and future plans and we make our way to class.
Chapter 15
A week after West’s run-in with our parents' mercenaries,
I’m climbing into the backseat of a blacked-out SUV, on my way to my first ever visit to the compound. My first visit should have been weeks ago but for whatever reason my father neglected to share with me, it kept getting pushed back—not that I’m complaining. I’d secretly hoped he’d changed his mind. It’s the last place on earth I want to be, especially knowing what I do about Hadley.
To say I’m nervous would be an understatement. I don’t know what the fuck I am. I’m a whirling vortex of emotions. I’m apprehensive about what I’m going to see and find here, sick at the thought of what will be expected of me, and fueled by molten rage at knowing whatever I see today was Hadley’s entire life until recently.
The car journey takes two hours, but finally, we pull up to a manned gate. I’ve been looking out the window most of the way, mentally cataloguing any useful signposts that could help guide us back here, should we need it. The last town we passed was nearly an hour ago, and really, calling it a town is a stretch. It was a rundown, one street backwater place that looked like it barely had more than a gas and go.
Since then, it’s been all open fields interspersed with little pockets of forestry, with barely a house in sight.