Fallen Heirs : A Dark High School Bully Romance (Windsor Academy Book 3)

by Laura Lee

“When did you become such a goddamn vigilante?” My father’s face pales and sweat beads his brow as the blood loss starts to affect him.

  “Right around the time I found out you were responsible for my mother’s death. But to be fair, I didn’t like you very much before then.”

  “I wish you were never born, you little punk.”

  “And I wish you were the one who died that day instead of her.”

  I see the moment he decides to go for it. I suppose he thinks he has nothing to lose, which I can’t exactly say I disagree. I fire my last shot the second my dad reaches for his gun. The bullet lands in the center of his forehead, the light instantly fading from the same hazel eyes I see in the mirror every morning. I feel strangely unaffected by the fact that I just killed my father as I tuck my gun in the back of my jeans and head straight for the closet where Jazz is seeking shelter.

  “Jazz.”

  “Oh my God, are you okay?” Jazz frantically runs her hands over my face, inspecting me for damage.

  “I’m fine.” I lightly brush the bruise on her jaw. Her eyes are bloodshot from crying, and she’s shaking, but she appears mostly okay. “Are you? Did he touch you?”

  She shakes her head. “No. He didn’t get the chance before you came. Is it... is he...”

  I nod. “Dead. Both of them.”

  Jazz wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me into her, sobbing into my chest. I hold on tightly, never wanting to let go. I sink to the floor and pull her into my lap, giving her time to process everything.

  “So, it’s over? It’s really over?” She sniffles.

  I kiss the top of her head. “It’s over.”

  “Kingston?” My PI, John, calls out. “It’s clear, Bentley.”

  “Yo, dawg, you in here?”

  Jazz lifts her head. “Bent? In here!”

  A moment later, Bentley and John appear in the doorway to the closet.

  “Hey, baby girl,” Bentley says. “You okay?”

  She sniffles. “Yeah.”

  John nods to me in acknowledgment. “Everything good? I heard shots.”

  “Yep,” I confirm. “Everything okay up top?”

  “It’s clear. The only other person on the boat was the captain, and I took him down quickly. He’s cuffed to one of the railings on the upper deck. Your friend Reed is watching him.”

  “How did you all get here so quickly?” Jazz questions.

  I smooth some hair away from her face and finger the locket around her neck. “I was waiting at the driving school to pick you up. The second I saw your instructor returning without you, I checked the GPS. When I saw you were at the marina, I knew my father had gotten to you somehow. I called the guys right away and told them to meet me here.”

  “Aren’t we offshore? Where’d you get a boat?”

  I nod. “About two miles or so. I borrowed some guy’s speedboat. He was just getting ready to go out.”

  Jazz raises her eyebrows. “And he willingly just let you have it, huh?”

  I shrug. “I gave him the keys to my Agera as collateral.”

  She smiles softly. “Thank God you’re such a stalkery stalker.”

  “Don’t encourage him, Jazzy.” Bent laughs. “What do you want to do now, bro?” He jerks his head over his shoulder, adopting a more serious expression when he gestures to the two dead bodies behind him. “What do we do with them?”

  “I’ll call it in. I need to check in anyway.” John holds up his cell. “If you’ll excuse me.”

  I nod. “Thanks, man.”

  I take a deep breath and help Jazz stand. Bentley averts his eyes when he notices she’s not wearing any pants.

  “I... uh... I’ll meet you up top, yeah?”

  Jazz blushes. “Yeah, Bent. Thanks.”

  I wait while Jazz gets dressed, then we both exit the master cabin, carefully avoiding the two bodies. Jazz stops at the threshold and turns around to survey the room. She takes a deep breath as her eyes land on Charles, before she grabs my hand and we head up to the bridge together. Right before we get there to meet up with the guys, I pull her to a stop.

  Her delicate brows crease. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I assure her. “Just needed to say something before we have to deal with the inevitable shitstorm of explaining what happened here.”

  Jazz runs her finger along the length of my eyebrow, down the bridge of my nose. “What’s that?”

  I press my lips against hers. “I love you. You know that’s never going to change, right?”

  She smiles. “I know. Because I feel the same, even if you are an insufferable caveman at times.”

  I grab her ass as I’m pulling her into me. “You bet this sweet ass I am. Don’t expect that to change where you’re concerned.”

  Jazz laughs. “No worries, there, big guy. I’m under no delusions that will ever happen.”

  “As long as we’re clear.” I wink, before adopting a more serious expression. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I will be.” Jazz nods then tugs on my hand. “C’mon, you Neanderthal. Let’s get this over with so we can move on with the rest of our lives.”

  Sounds pretty fucking perfect to me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  JAZZ

  “Jasmine, it’s so nice to meet you finally.”

  I shake Sandra, my new attorney’s hand. “You, too. Thanks for meeting with us. I’m sorry we had to keep rescheduling the appointment. It’s been a crazy month.”

  She gives me a sympathetic smile. “No worries, whatsoever. Please, both of you have a seat.”

  Kingston pulls out a chair for me before taking a seat. It’s been two weeks since our fathers’ deaths, and those two weeks have been a nonstop whirlwind. When the news broke of the FBI bust, Kingston and I were bombarded with media attempts to book interviews. Once my boyfriend not-so-kindly told them all to fuck off and threatened to sue their asses if they didn’t leave him, me, and Ainsley alone, they backed off.

  The three of us just moved into the Malibu house, and I finally feel like I can breathe. Ainsley took the whole thing pretty hard, but as Kingston and I had predicted, Reed has been incredibly supportive. I think being in the new place will help all of us because we no longer have to face reminders of our demons on a daily basis.

  Sandra opens a file and retrieves a few documents. She sets them in front of me with a pen. “As we discussed over the phone, Mr. Davenport was quite clear on what you were looking to achieve, but I wanted to hear it from you as well.”

  I bite back a smile as I see Kingston frowning out of the corner of my eye. The boy doesn’t like it when someone questions him. When I take his hand and begin rubbing my thumb over his knuckles, his expression softens.

  “Of course.”

  “So, the paperwork you have in front of you is for the legal name change. I just need your signature by each marker, and I’ll file those with the court first thing in the morning. Since you’re a legal adult, there should be no reason it isn’t approved and processed in an expedited manner. Rivera will once again be your legal surname in no time.”

  “Thank you.” I grab the pen and start signing my name by each tab. “And the other matter we discussed?”

  “Yes, of course.” Sandra removes some more paperwork. “As I was telling Mr. Davenport, we will file a petition for partial custody, but I can’t make any promises, since there hasn’t been any proven abuse or neglect. The first thing the court will do is appoint a minor’s counsel. They serve as a neutral voice for the child, without compromising their rights, emotional well-being, or forcing the child to side with one parent or another. Or, in this case, parent over a sibling. Their mission is to find facts and keep the emotional component out of it. Whoever the court appoints to your sister’s case will make sure Belle’s health, safety, and welfare are a top priority when making their recommendations to the courts.”

  “Good,” I tell her. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

  “That’s good to hear,” she s
ays. “Now, I like to be upfront with my clients and forewarn you that custody battles can get messy, take a lot of time, and the costs will undoubtedly add up. There are no promises that you’ll be granted legal custody or visitation. You’ll be fighting an uphill battle from the start considering you’re still in high school and don’t make enough money from your part-time job to support yourself financially. With that said, would you still like to proceed?”

  “Absolutely.” I nod. “I need to try.”

  Sandra smiles. “Okay, then. If—”

  “I have a question,” Kingston interrupts.

  “Go ahead, Mr. Davenport.”

  “Would it help her case if we got married? California is a community property state, right? So, if we were married, she’d automatically be entitled to half my estate.”

  My jaw drops. “Kingston! I can’t exp—”

  Kingston raises his eyebrows expectantly at my attorney. “Well?”

  She clears her throat. “Well, yes, that would certainly help. The courts like to see stability—both financial and within the family dynamic—when deciding whether to award custody. Although, community property only applies to assets you acquire during the marriage. Anything beforehand would be exempt.”

  “But if we open a joint bank account, those are considered Jazz’s assets, correct?”

  Sandra nods. “Correct.”

  “And if I put her name on the deed to the house, that counts too, right?”

  “I’m sorry, what?” I interject. “Why would you put my name on the deed to the house?”

  My boyfriend smiles. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s as much your house as it is mine. It doesn’t matter who paid for it.”

  “Kingston!”

  “Baby, let’s not waste this nice lady’s time by talking about it right now, okay?” He winks. “We can fight about it—and make-up—later.”

  I cover my face with my hands. “Oh, my God. You’re so embarrassing sometimes.”

  My attorney laughs. “You two remind me of my husband and me at your age.”

  “How long have you been married?” I ask.

  “Thirty years next month.” She covers the side of her mouth and stage whispers, “And the make-up sex is still as hot as it was in the beginning.”

  Kingston laughs while I can feel my face flushing.

  I give him the stink eye. “I’ll deal with you later.”

  “Anyway...” I jerk my thumb in Kingston’s direction. “Before we were so rudely interrupted by this jackass... you were saying?”

  “In a nutshell, it isn’t going to be easy.” She inclines her head in Kingston’s direction. “But Mr. Davenport’s suggestions would certainly help.”

  I sigh. “Okay. Well, I guess we will discuss this at home and get back to you.”

  She nods. “Sounds good. In the meantime, I’ll file the petition to change your name.”

  “Thank you.”

  Kingston and I both stand and shake the attorney’s hand before leaving her office.

  I punch his arm as soon as we get in the car. “I can’t believe you brought that up in there!”

  He holds his hands up in surrender. “Whoa, there, Rocky. I was just trying to help.”

  “Kingston! You can’t just suggest we get married to better the odds of winning a custody case.”

  “I didn’t suggest we get married just to obtain custody. I did it because we’re going to do it regardless, so if it’ll help the case, why not get hitched earlier rather than later?”

  I rub the bridge of my nose. “I’m sorry, did I miss the part where you asked me to marry your ass?”

  He smirks. “Oh, baby, like I’d give you a choice.”

  My stink eye is back. “Bossy ass.”

  Kingston grabs the back of my head and pulls me into a kiss. “Don’t pretend you don’t love it.”

  I pull back and flip him off because he’s right; I can’t say I don’t love it.

  “Whatever,” I mutter. “You’re lucky I love you so much.”

  He laughs. “Not gonna argue with you on that one, babe.”

  ***

  “Have you guys heard?” Ainsley asks.

  She bombarded us as soon as Kingston and I got out of the car.

  “Heard what?” Bentley asks, getting out of his Porsche from the spot next to ours.

  “Headmaster Douche got fired over the weekend,” Reed explains.

  “What?” Kingston asks. “Why?”

  Ainsley smiles. “He got caught banging Elinor Jackson in the auditorium.”

  “Whoa.” Bentley whistles. “Wait. Who’s Elinor Jackson?”

  “A booster’s wife.” Ainsley’s eyes widen. “One of the biggest booster's wives! Rumor has it he demanded Headmaster Davis' termination, or he would no longer write checks to the school, and he’d use his considerable influence with the other boosters to do the same.”

  “Damn. Can’t say I’ll miss that asshat one bit.” I shrug.

  “Me neither,” Kingston agrees.

  “Anyway...” Ainsley continues. “They’re calling an assembly in the gym in place of first period today. They’re going to introduce the new headmaster.”

  “Well, that didn’t take long to find a replacement,” Bentley remarks. “Any word on who it is?”

  “Someone from another private school in the area, I think.” Ainsley nods her head toward the building that houses the gym. Or Athletic Center as the Windsor snobs like to call it. “We should get in there so we can find seats together.”

  When we get to the gym, it’s relatively full, so we wind up standing against the side wall instead of trying to find enough room on the bleachers. Mrs. Fuller, one of the administration ladies, walks up to the podium and waits for everyone to settle down before speaking.

  “Good morning, students. As some of you may have heard, Headmaster Davis is no longer with us. He has... decided to pursue other opportunities.”

  “Yeah, other opportunities up Mrs. Jackson’s vagina,” Ainsley whispers.

  Based on the laughter amongst the student body, I’d say similar comments are being passed around.

  “Settle down, boys and girls!” Mrs. Fuller demands. Once the room quiets, she continues. “Now, as I was trying to say, we have a new headmaster starting today, and I’d like you all to give him a warm Windsor welcome!” She motions to the middle-aged man sitting off to the side. “Please say hello to Headmaster Carrington.”

  The man joins Mrs. Fuller at the podium and waits for the lackluster applause to end. “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. I’m very excited to be here. I’ve been headmaster at Cambridge Prep for the last fifteen years, and while I enjoyed my time there immensely, I couldn’t be more excited about this opportunity. I was a Windsor wolf back in the day, and I’ve always wanted to return to the place where some of my fondest memories have occurred.

  “It gives me great pleasure that my daughter will also be a Windsor wolf. I know it’s not typical for a student to start so late into the school year, but I’m grateful the board was willing to make an exception so she can graduate from my alma mater.” He searches the audience until his eyes lock on someone. “Go ahead, honey. Stand up.”

  Bentley snorts. “Nothing like being called out by your daddy in front of the whole school.”

  Ainsley smacks him with the back of her hand. “Be nice, Bentley.”

  “Honey, don’t be shy,” the headmaster insists. “Stand up so everyone can see you.”

  Everyone’s gaze follows the headmaster’s as his daughter rises from the bleachers. Damn. The girl legit looks like Zendaya’s curvier little sister. She pushes her long, corkscrew curls to the side and stands tall while the entire room stares at her like an animal in the zoo. I can’t exactly blame them—I’m staring too. She’s stupid pretty.

  “I wouldn’t want to be in her shoes,” I say. “Gotta give it to her though, she’s holding her head high. That takes cojones in this crowd.”

  “What the fuck?” Bentley whispers.


  I feel Kingston stiffen beside me right before he throws his arm out in front of Bentley. “Don’t, man. Not here.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the headmaster continues. “I’d like you to meet my daughter, Sydney. She’s a senior this year.”

  I look to my left and see Bentley’s nostrils flare while Reed joins Kingston in flanking Bent like they think he’s about to flip out or something.

  “What is going on?” I whisper to Bentley. “Do you know her or something?”

  “Oh, I fucking know her all right,” Bentley hisses. “But what I don’t know is how she’s a senior in high school when she should be a senior in college right now.”

  I frown in confusion as I lean into Ainsley. “Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?”

  Ainsley’s jaw is slack as she stares at the girl. “Uh...”

  “What am I missing?” I’m asking anyone who will answer at this point. “Who is she?”

  “She’s a goddamn liar and a whore, that’s who she is.” I’m thrown back by the venom in Bentley’s tone. “Fuck this shit. I’m out of here.”

  Kingston and Reed chase after Bentley as he rushes out of the gym.

  “Ainsley? What the hell was that? Who is that girl?”

  Ainsley swallows. “So, you know the story my brother told you about that frat party? The night Carissa was attacked?”

  “Yeah... but what does that have to do with this?”

  Ainsley nods to that Sydney girl. “Because that is the supposed sorority girl who had Bentley’s dick in her mouth when Carissa walked into that party.”

  “What?!” My jaw drops. “I thought he hardly remembers anything from that party. How does he remember what she looks like? How do you know what she looks like when you weren’t even there?”

  “Because pictures were circulating all over Insta and Snap after it happened before they got flagged. I can’t even tell you how many times someone texted Bentley a screenshot of him getting his dick sucked in front of the whole party. Those idiots thought he’d appreciate the memory, having no idea we were dealing with Carissa’s trauma at the time.”

  I turn to her. “But why does Bentley seem so angry with the new girl? I don’t get that part. She didn’t force him to put his dick in her mouth, nor did she have any idea Carissa would show up at that party. Hell, she probably had no idea Carissa even existed.”