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Beyond Vengeance: Pacific Prep #3

Page 22

by R. A. Smyth


  “She’s certainly something, isn’t she?” the guy—Benjamin—says, only increasing the creep factor.

  I sneak a glance at Hawk out of the corner of my eye. His face is its usual impassive mask, and I can’t get a read on what he’s thinking or what the hell is going on here.

  “I understand she’s been missing for quite some time,” the guy continues, his beady eyes still watching me far too closely for my liking.

  “Yes, that’s right. She was kidnapped as a toddler and somehow ended up in the foster system under a new name, which is why we weren’t able to find her all these years. It was a fortunate coincidence that she ended up at school with Hawk this year, and the connection was made as to who she really was.”

  Since my so-called father has never asked me about my past, I’m guessing he’s gotten his hands on my fake records, and put together his own theories, which he’s now passing off as fact.

  Servers bring out food for each of us, cutting off their weird conversation. A plate of something tiny and fancy is placed in front of me, and it’s only then that I notice there are three different sets of knives and forks either side of the plate. What the fuck, what’s wrong with using the same utensils for every course?

  Once everyone has been served and we’re once again alone, I subtly cast my gaze around the table, watching to see which set of cutlery everyone else starts with. I feel so far out of my depth right now and while I mostly don’t give a shit, a small part of me wants to fit in with these people. I don’t understand it. Why do I care so much what these people think when they clearly don’t care about me?

  I inadvertently catch the gaze of Benjamin’s son—whose name I still don’t know. He must have been watching me and picked up on the fact I have no idea what I’m doing as he points out the smallest set of cutlery furthest away from the plate, silently letting me know that’s what I should be using for this course.

  “Wilder will be joining you at Pac for the rest of the year,” Barton informs us—well, he’s looking at Hawk, so his words are really meant for him.

  “It’s a bit late in the year to be transferring, is it not?” Hawk responds, looking between his father and Wilder.

  Wilder has a wide grin on his face that makes him look every bit of his namesake—wild.

  “Yes, well, I think getting to know him and his family better will be very fortuitous for all of us,” my father responds cryptically. Hawk’s eyebrows pull together as he continues to dart his gaze back and forth between the two men, as if he can somehow telepathically read their thoughts and figure out what’s going on if he just stares hard enough at their heads.

  The rest of the meal drones on. Barton and Benjamin talk about mundane work things that I struggle to follow, all the while ignoring Wilder’s gaze boring into my head, and the tension radiating off Hawk beside me. It’s safe to say it was not the funnest meal I’ve had, even if the food was pretty decent.

  “Why don’t we leave the kids to get to know each other while we go over the finer details of the contract,” Maria suggests after we’ve all finished eating.

  “Yes, what an excellent idea, darling. Hawk, you’ll see that Wilder follows you back to campus when you’re done?”

  Barton spears Hawk with a look that makes it clear his request isn’t optional.

  “Sure,” Hawk reluctantly agrees. Benjamin and Maria stand from the table and without a backward glance, leave the room, but Barton hesitates, as if he has something else to say. His mouth opens and closes wordlessly before he decides against saying anything at all, and silently follows after the others.

  The minute we’re alone, Hawk glowers at Wilder. I have to admit, it’s nice not being on the other end of that menacing look for once.

  “What are you really doing here?” he demands.

  Wilder leans back in his chair, casually placing his napkin on the table. His other hand plays with a knife left behind after dinner, and he absently runs his thumb over the pointed tip and down the sharp blade. There’s a gleam in his eye as he smirks knowingly at Hawk, enjoying lording over the fact he knows something we don’t.

  “You mean you haven’t figured it out yet?”

  Hawk’s eyes narrow to slits. “I can hazard a guess,” he growls.

  My eyes dart between the two of them, not having any idea what they’re talking about.

  “Uh, would one of you like to enlighten me then?!” I snark, getting annoyed at being left in the dark.

  Wilder focuses his intense gaze on me as a crazy looking grin splits his face. This guy is definitely off his rocker. There’s no way he’s right in the head. He looks like a deranged psycho right now.

  “Sunshine, you and I are getting hitched.”

  A strangled laugh escapes me.

  I mean, he’s obviously joking. He has to be…right? He’s so deep in crazyville that he’s talking out his ass.

  An animal-like growl sounds in Hawk’s chest and he slams his hand against the table, jumping to his feet. The chair squeaks against the wooden floor as it’s pushed backward.

  “No, you’re not,” he snarls.

  “Well, no, not yet,” Wilder says casually, not at all intimidated by the fact Hawk looks ready to gouge his eyes out. “I’m sure our parents will want to work out the fine print first.”

  I’m half expecting Hawk to launch himself across the table, so I’m taken by surprise when instead he reaches out and all but yanks me to my feet.

  I just about manage to pull my dress down, ensuring I don’t give Wilder a free show as Hawk drags me out of the dining room. I have to run in my heels—which is fucking difficult—in order to keep up with his large strides. He’s grumbling under his breath, but I can’t make out what he’s saying.

  “Hey,” Wilder calls after us, and I hear his chair being pushed backward before the sound of his shoes slapping against the floor chases us across the foyer. “You’re supposed to show me the way back to campus.”

  Hawk ignores him, pulling open the front door with more force than necessary and, still with a tight grip on my arm, he tugs me out the door and down the steps. Doesn’t he know I’m as keen as he is to escape the crazy mad man following us?

  Two cars are parked at the bottom of the steps. One is Hawk’s black SUV, and another is a dark green classic Mustang convertible. It looks beautiful, and I can’t help but admire it as we approach.

  Hawk comes to a stop, fishing his keys out of his pocket, giving Wilder time to catch up to us.

  “Get in the car, Hadley,” Hawk growls.

  “Wifey should probably come with me.” Wilder throws his arm over my shoulder before I can move out of his way, acting as if we’re best buds and he’s not some weirdo I just met. “We need some ‘getting to know you’ time.”

  “I think I know all I need to know,” I snark, jabbing him in the ribs with my elbow—hard.

  The psycho just laughs as he doubles over in pain, and I shove him.

  “Sunshine, you’re going to give me an erection in front of my new bro-in-law. Not cool.”

  Hawk and I share similar ‘what the fuck is this guy on’ looks, ignoring him as I round the car, getting in, and Hawk climbs in behind the wheel, starting the engine and taking off down the drive.

  Chapter 19

  “Who the hell was that guy?” I ask as Hawk hurtles down the road, driving recklessly in his attempt to get away from his parents’ house and the deranged psycho stalking us.

  “His dad is Benjamin Clearwater,” Hawk states, as if that explains anything.

  I get irritated when he doesn’t elaborate, snapping out, “Am I supposed to know who that is?”

  “His company manufactures personal body armor, like Kevlar vests. He would provide the police and army with a lot of their gear.” Hawk thinks for a moment before continuing, “It was recently announced that he was branching into weapons production. I’m guessing he and our parents are looking to get into business together.” He turns his head to look at me. “And you’re the bargaining
chip.”

  My stomach churns violently. “What does that mean?” I ask, not really wanting an answer. I can already guess for myself.

  “If what Wilder said is right, they’re marrying you off to him in exchange for whatever business Benjamin agreed to do with them.”

  “But, I don’t understand.” I’m ashamed to say my voice comes out more high pitched than I’d like, but I think it’s perfectly acceptable that I’m freaking the fuck out right now. “They wanted me to get involved in your whole stupid tradition, why would they do that if they were just going to marry me off to some rando?”

  Hawk shrugs his shoulders, not having an answer for me. “No idea. Benjamin is a big fish though. It would take the company to a whole new level if they got him on board. I know they had some business deal in the works with him years ago, but something happened and it fell through.” He taps his finger rapidly against the steering wheel, still driving like a fucking maniac down the dark road. “They aren’t going to let this deal fall through.” The grim tone he uses only exacerbates my unease as we drive on in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? I’m not about to marry that lunatic, or anyone else for that matter.

  We’re nearly back at campus when Hawk breaks the heavy silence in the car. “I don’t know where the nearest strip club is, but I’m sure I can find one, if you wanna earn a few dollars in that getup.”

  “Ha ha.” I laugh sarcastically, slapping him playfully on the arm. “I look like a fucking hooker and I left all my clothes behind in our rush to get out of there.”

  Hawk laughs. “Oh yeah, they’ve probably been burned by now.”

  I groan. “Those weren’t even my shoes.”

  “So just buy a new pair.” Hawk shrugs, like it’s no big deal.

  “We’re not all made of money, asshole. Some of us know the price of a dollar.”

  He glances away from the road, cocking an eyebrow at me. “You do realize being a Davenport comes with some benefits, right? Like a bank account with more money than you’ve probably ever seen.”

  “What? No.”

  He laughs, shaking his head. “I have one, so you should too. I’ll talk to dad this week and get it set up for you.”

  “I don’t need their dirty money,” I grouse.

  “No,” he admits, “but you might as well get something out of this shitty situation.”

  Well, he has a point there.

  Parking the car in the student lot, Hawk fires off a quick message to the group chat, telling everyone we need a meeting. Great, this new, fucked up development is going to be super fun to explain to the guys.

  Not hanging around for Wilder to find us, we quickly head back to the guys’ apartment.

  “What’s going on?” West blurts out as soon as Hawk and I step into the apartment, finding all four of them already there. Beer bottles are sitting out on the table, someone having already figured it was going to be one of those kinds of talks. “And what the hell are you wearing?”

  Oh, right, I forgot I look like a common prostitute.

  Kicking off my heels, I move over to the sink, splashing water on my face to wash off the gunk that feels like it’s clogging my pores. I still look ridiculous in this dress, but at least my face doesn’t scream ‘night walker’.

  Feeling slightly better, I sit in the free armchair. All eyes are on me as I sigh, suddenly exhausted after this evening's events. “Uh.” I hesitate, unsure how to explain tonight's weirdness as I take in each of my guys. “I think I’m engaged?” If I sound confused, it’s because I am.

  “You’re what?” Mason roars, jumping to his feet, his face like thunder.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Beck demands, anger lacing his words.

  “You think?” West questions.

  “It’s pretty much a done deal.” Hawk sighs, rubbing at his eyes before grabbing a beer, ignoring the murderous look Mason is giving him.

  “Explain,” Mason spits out between gritted teeth, slowly lowering himself back into his chair. I move to sit in his lap, sensing he needs some comfort, and he quickly wraps his arms around me, pulling me in flush against him. I rest my head on his shoulder, my fingers tracing soothing circles along his forearm as Beck lifts my feet onto his lap and massages my arches. Holy fuck does that feel good after having them crammed into heels for the last few hours.

  “What the hell is she talking about?” Beck fires at Hawk.

  Hawk explains what happened after we showed up at our parents’ house tonight, and I can feel the tension rising in the room until it feels like lighting a match would be enough to set everything on fire.

  “Absolutely not,” Beck insists. “There is absolutely no fucking way she is marrying anyone other than one of us. Least of all him, he sounds fucking unstable.”

  My eyes widen. What was that now? Marrying one of them? Is that something he’s given thought to? I have so many questions, but now isn’t the time to ask any of them, and honestly, the thought of his answer makes me a little nervous.

  The other guys nod their heads in agreement. None of them look like they're having the same internal freak out over Beck’s words that I’m currently experiencing.

  Mason must sense the tension suddenly tightening my muscles as he presses a kiss by my ear. “Don’t overthink it,” he whispers.

  I glance up at him in confusion, seeing the laughter in his eyes. The asshole is enjoying watching me squirm and panic.

  A loud knock at the door has all of us glancing toward it before looking at each other and shrugging. Cam, being the closest, gets up to answer it.

  “Bro, not cool,” Wilder calls out, pushing past a stunned Cam. Hawk immediately jumps to his feet, and I’m unceremoniously dumped on the couch cushions as Mason and Beck jump up as well. “Insane driving, though. You’ll have to teach me how to do that one day. I had no hope of keeping up with you.”

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Hawk growls as I scramble to my feet, pushing my way around Mason even as he tries to keep me out of sight behind his back. I don’t know what he thinks Wilder is going to do; he’s no immediate threat.

  “I had to make sure Wifey got home safe and sound.”

  A chorus of growls erupts from each of my guys, making Wilder laugh. If I had any doubts about his sanity before, I know for certain now—he’s certifiable. No sane person would laugh when they have five growling, beasts of men glowering at them with murderous intent in their eyes.

  “Oh, this just got more interesting.” His wild gaze focuses on me where I’m still half sequestered behind Mason’s brick of a body. “Good on you, Sunshine. I didn’t know you had it in you.” He winks. He fucking winks, like this is all some hilarious joke and he’s not seconds away from being torn limb from limb and thrown into the lake.

  Ignoring the death glares he’s receiving, he saunters over to the armchair I vacated in favor of Mason’s lap, and sits down, grabbing a spare beer off the table.

  He looks at each of the guys. “I’m guessing you four are the fearsome Princes I’ve heard all about,” he says, pointing a finger each at Hawk, Cam, West, and Mason—what the fuck, he’s been here for like five minutes—before his gaze lands on Beck. “And you are?”

  “I think the better question is, who the hell are you?” Beck snarls.

  Wilder gasps, clutching his heart with his hand. “Excuse my manners, so rude of me. My name’s Wilder Clearwater, husband-to-be of Sunshine here.” He gestures in my direction before holding his hand out to Beck as we all share ‘what the fuck’ glances with one another. He doesn’t seriously expect Beck to shake his hand, does he?

  Beck sneers at his outstretched hand before smacking it away.

  “Drop the act,” Hawk snaps. “What do you want? ‘Cause despite what our parents might think, you’re not getting my sister.”

  Wilder shrugs, leaning back in his chair as he eyes me critically. I don’t get the same itch under my skin that I did when his dad looked at
me. Tilting my head, I stare at him curiously. He’s impossible to get a read on, his behavior too erratic to gain any sort of stable baseline, but despite the crazy glint in his eyes, I don’t think he’s any sort of a threat.

  “Meh, blondes aren’t really my type, anyway. No offense, Wifey, I’m sure we could have had a blast.”

  Wriggling out from behind Mason, I stand in front of him, ignoring his huff of frustration.

  “So why are you doing what your dad wants then? Why does your dad even want you to marry me?”

  “He thinks a wife will help keep me in line.” He snorts, but I don’t miss the darkness that clouds his eyes. I’m not sure anyone else noticed it, and it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, but it was definitely there. “As for why I’m going along with it…I have my reasons,” he responds vaguely. “Just like I’m sure you have yours.”

  “What does your dad want out of this deal?” Hawk asks.

  “No idea. He was on the fence until a week ago, then something changed.” Before anyone can ask, he tacks on, “I don’t know what. But all of a sudden, he was more than willing to sign the contract.”

  That has all of us exchanging uneasy glances.

  ***

  Monday morning is the start of a new month, meaning we all have the joy of picking new people we’re stuck with for the next four weeks. Hawk got a call from our father last night, informing him that I was to choose Wilder. It was obviously asking too much for him to phone and tell me himself—although I doubt he would have appreciated my colorful response.

  Despite the guys putting up a fuss, I didn’t argue about it too much. I had no idea who I was going to pick, and at least Wilder has admitted he has no interest in being with me. Plus he knows about me and the guys, so it’s probably best that we keep a close eye on him until we can work out his motives.

  After breakfast, the usual routine begins, each of the guys picking a girl. I notice Wilder slip into the hall as Cam takes his turn, propping himself up against the wall by the door and winking when he catches me looking. I have to admit, he looks good in his uniform—well, what he’s wearing of his uniform. His tie is missing, his shirt is half unbuttoned and rolled up at the sleeves, and there’s no blazer in sight. Looking down at his feet, I stifle my laugh. Instead of the standard black or brown loafers every other guy wears, he’s got on multicolored Air Jordan’s that look totally out of place with the school uniform.

 

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