Dangerous Girls: A Dark High School Romance (Broken Saints Society Book 2)

by Leia Thorne

  He grips my wrist, halting my pursuit. “What was that?”

  I feign a smile, pretending I don’t know what he’s asking. “A good hate-fuck,” I fire back.

  His hold on my wrist tightens as he pulls me up against him. He cups my face, forcing me to look into his eyes. His thumb slides across my lips. I can see it in his hard gaze, the question of what that kiss meant.

  He moves in, as if he’s going to take another kiss, but instead presses his mouth to my ear. “I want the fucking truth,” he says. “Did you hurt her?”

  I turn my head away and yank my arm out of his hold. “A year later, and you’re still whipped by a dead girl.” I shake my head, disgusted. “Who you never even fucked, Roland. Get over yourself.”

  As I head to the door, he says, “You didn’t answer my question.”

  Paused at the door, I don’t look back at him when I say, “Would the answer matter? Either way, you’d still want to fuck me.”

  I pick up my backpack and shoulder one strap. “Oh yeah,” I add. “Stop spreading rumors before Gage makes it a point to stop you himself.” I push through the door, letting it close behind me without a backward glance. My lips still burn from where Roland branded me with his kiss.

  As out of control as I feel…maybe it works both ways—maybe I stole a piece of him also.

  Chapter 7

  Remi

  It’s in the air, the thrill of something new. I felt it when I stepped through the grand arches of the academy this morning. I saw it in the eyes of everyone who looked at me.

  I’m no longer the new girl who doesn’t belong.

  I’ve been reborn.

  In just over a month at Brighton, I’ve become one of them. Not just accepted but elite.

  I passed Sadie Bishop on my way to my locker earlier, and instead of her usual snarl and glare, she smiled at me. Sure, it was fake as shit—but she sucked it up and noticed me because I’m now above her in the pecking order.

  That realization is so outrageous that I almost started laughing outright in science block. Even if I crack up and go bat-shit crazy, no one will question it. I’m sure it can be played off like the pressure to succeed got to me, or something.

  The rules are different on this side of society.

  I observe just how much so as Gage flips through his phone next to me instead of working on his worksheet. I try to focus on mine, reading the same question about animal cell organelles repeatedly, but my mind is preoccupied with the feel of Gage so close.

  I can’t help but notice his phone screen; a text message from Sawyer. Features strained, he swipes the message away and drops his phone into the inseam of his blazar.

  I want to ask him about it, but unlike Gage, I still have this annoying respect for authority and classrooms. As if he’s reading me, he places his hand on my thigh under our table.

  His palm travels upward, inching my skirt up. I cross my legs and trap his hand. “Stop,” I whisper.

  He chuckles lightly. “Why?”

  The teacher looks up at us and frowns disapprovingly.

  Persistent, he forces his hand higher along my thigh, and a deep ache blooms in my core. My face flushes, heat drifting down my neck. Gage smirks, completely unbothered by the fact that we’re in a classroom. This boy has zero fear. He doesn’t fear authority or consequences, and he’s relentless.

  He leans in close to my ear. “Do you really want me to stop?”

  I steady my breathing. “You have to,” I whisper. “You can’t get me off right in the middle of class.”

  His smile stretches. “That sounds like a dare.”

  I close my eyes, battling the warring urges within me to either open my legs to him or move to another table.

  Then, just as suddenly, his hand is gone. Gage adjusts himself before he stands. “Ms. Markle, I need the lavatory pass.”

  Her mouth presses into a tight line. “Don’t be long, Mr. Astor.”

  Before he leaves, he whispers into my ear: “Meet me in the boy’s bathroom in five minutes.”

  I want to bury my face under the table. I cannot do this—there’s no way I’m going to get away with this, we’re so obvious. But the throbbing ache he’s left me with dictates my next action.

  I swallow down the nerves clogging my throat and stand. “I need the lavatory—”

  “On the wall, Ms. St. James,” she interrupts.

  “Thank you.” I grab the wooden pass and rush out of the room.

  Every bit of newly earned confidence I felt this morning just puddled out onto the floor of that classroom. There’s still a difference between me and them. They believe they’re owed everything from this world. And I’m just faking it.

  I head in the direction of the restrooms, realizing as I’m passing the stairwell that I have no idea where the boy’s bathroom is located. “Shit.” I turn down the adjacent hallway, and an arm seizes my waist.

  I yelp as I’m pulled into the bathroom. Gage’s laugh surrounds me as he carries me toward the back. “Shh,” he says. “Save those screams for me.”

  He deposits me near the back stall, and I smack his arm before I set the pass on the counter. “God, you’re insatiable.”

  Planting his hands along the wall, he brackets me in with his arms. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  I stare up at him and, I swear, I’m lost. I can’t see past the depth of those blue eyes behind his glasses. “What happens if we get caught?”

  He leans in and kisses my neck softly. “You think I’m going to get you in trouble?”

  I run my hand along his chest. “No, I think if that happens, you’ll protect me.”

  And I mean it. Allowing myself to trust Gage wasn’t easy. But the only people who know my horrid secret are Gage and his Saints, and their bound to protect it. Gage promised to defend me against vicious rumors and innuendo, and I believe he’ll keep that promise.

  Something in his eyes flashes, and a muscle feathers along his jaw. “You’re shopping with the girls today, right?” he asks, effectively evading my question.

  “Yes…”

  He roams up to peck a light kisses along my jaw. “Well, I can’t wait that long for you,” he says, taking hold of my thigh. “I thought about us together on the yacht all last night. So if I’m not inside you the second the last class lets out, then I’m having my way with you right now.”

  Insatiable is an understatement.

  His mouth finds mine, seducing me with a sensual kiss.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about him, either. All night in bed, repeating on a loop in my head, as if I’m an addict just counting down the minutes until I can get my next fix.

  The past few days have been a whirlwind, and I haven’t caught my breath yet. Maybe that’s the point; not giving me enough time to really think about everything that has transpired.

  I lost my virginity. Not to one person but a society. It was a scene right out of an X-rated movie. Sawyer had assumed I was saving my V-card for someone special. But that’s not really true. I had been dating a guy back at Camden Heights, and we were close…before the accident.

  After that, I couldn’t even bring myself to look into Derrick’s eyes, or kiss him, or do anything. My life was more than put on hold. It was over.

  Then Gage Astor stormed into my world like a wicked force of nature. With his sinful abs and that V muscle that makes girls’ brains turn to mush. Beautiful pale-blue eyes that stare right down to your marrow. And those ridiculously cute dimples that pop when his gorgeous lips smile at you.

  It was easy to get lost in him.

  It was easy to sacrifice my virginity to be a part of his world.

  To forget all the bad of last school year, and become a new person—one with a credit card with nearly no limit, a ring that designates me to a secret sex society, and access to every carnal sin I can imagine with the boy kissing me into a puddle right now.

  Did I trade my soul?

  Maybe. But the great thing about getting rid of the
shame is that, there’s no guilt to make me feel bad about it.

  The more Gage touches me, the less I think about my mom and the accident. The night that I was too fucked up to remember in detail. All I know is that it’s all my fault. After I confessed my secret to the Saints, it was like releasing that demon trapped within. I no longer feel haunted by that ghost.

  Gage deepens the kiss, groaning against my mouth, before he breaks away. “Slide those panties over,” he says.

  He pulls my leg up along his hip, and I reach down and feel the thin material. I’m already wet. I slip the crotch over, allowing Gage’s fingers to find their way to the seam, where he runs his finger along my slit.

  “Jesus, you’re already so wet.” He sinks his teeth into my shoulder, and a shiver travels across my skin.

  Grasping the backs of my thighs, he hoists me up, forcing me to lock my arms around his neck as he carts me to the bank of sinks. He settles my ass on the counter and pushes between my thighs.

  My nerves threaten to combust. The fear of being discovered sends an adrenaline rush to my head, mixing with the intoxicating lust coursing my system. I’m drunk on lust and Gage and the heady scent of his cologne infusing my senses.

  He grips my panties and tugs them down my legs. I kick up one foot to keep them secured around my ankle as he unzips his slacks. My fingers thread into his hair as he kisses me savagely and, when I feel his dick hard and seated at the entrance to my pussy, I hold on to him tighter.

  He cups my shoulders from behind and thrusts inside me. I swallow my cry, burying my mouth against the heavy material of his blazer.

  “God, I can never get enough of you,” Gage says, as he pulls out slightly only to drive into me deeper.

  I brace one hand against the mirror as I latch onto his shoulder with my other. Gage fucks me up against the counter; there’s no other way to describe it. It’s hot and filthy fucking, and I can feel myself building already with the desire to release—my adrenaline is peaked.

  “Shit,” he says, “you’re fucking tight.”

  “I’m going to come…” I squeeze my eyes together.

  He groans and wraps his arm around my waist as his rhythm speeds, his hips ramming against my thighs. And when that sweet cresting tingling starts in my back, I open my eyes, wanting to see his face.

  But it’s not Gage that my gaze latches on to. Roland enters the bathroom and stops just inside the entrance. My heart lurches to my throat, making it difficult to utter a word around the impending orgasm that’s taking hold.

  “Stop—” I manage to say.

  Gage is close, too. I can feel him growing harder inside me, as his thrusts come faster.

  “Stop…ah…” I say around a cry, my nails clawing at his shoulder as I climax. My whole body shudders, the tingling sensation mingles with the ice-cold fear of Roland’s eyes hard on us.

  Then Roland is storming this way. “She said stop—” He grabs ahold of Gage’s arm and tears him away from me.

  There’s an instance of shock—Gage and Roland lock gazes—before Roland punches Gage in the stomach.

  I scramble to get my panties back in place before I hop off of the counter. “What the…? Stop!”

  My plead goes unheard amid the altercation. Gage recovers quickly and nails Roland in the face with his fist. I cover my mouth.

  “What the hell, Masters?” Gage comes at him again, fist ready to make contact.

  Roland touches his chin, his hand coming away with a hint of blood, then he barrels toward Gage. He wraps an arm around his stomach and launches him against the wall. His fist beats his side. Once. Twice. Then Gage knees him in the kidneys, dropping another quick punch to the side of his face.

  Roland stumbles away, wipes the red from his mouth and spits.

  “Stop it—” I launch myself between them, looking back and forth.

  Roland looks past me. “She told you to stop, Astor. Or is that the part that gets you off?”

  Gage sends a lethal glare his way before his lips curl into a twisted smile. “Hard to stop when she’s coming on my cock.”

  Roland’s chest rises up and down quickly with his heavy breaths. He looks at me, and I swallow hard with a confirming nod.

  “Fuck,” Roland says. He spits blood again, then slams his hand into the stall door. Before he leaves, he levels serious eyes on me. “Have you asked him why Lesley was so adamant to get out of his sick society yet?”

  When I don’t respond, he simply shakes his head. “You better find out, Remi. Before that twisted fuck ruins your life, too.”

  Gage steps toward him and pushes his chest. “Stop your bullshit lies before I end you, Masters.”

  With one last glance my way, Roland exits the bathroom. I deflate against the wall. Gage nears me, but I hold out a hand. “Why is he so convinced that Lesley wanted out, Gage?” I look up at him. “Why does he believe she was harmed?”

  As he rights his uniform blazer, Gage walks to the sink and turns on the tap. He washes his hands, then zips up his slacks and adjusts his clothes. The whole time, I just watch him, waiting, still stunned over what just happened.

  He steps in front of me and cups my face, lifting my gaze to meet his. “There is no out, Remi,” he says, his voice seductively low.

  My mouth parts, but I can’t form any words.

  Gage kisses me tenderly before he drops his hands. “Masters has no idea what he’s talking about. I don’t give in to idle threats. Come on,” he says. “Fix your clothes. You need to head back to class first.”

  How do I just go back to class after what happened? But I do. Somehow, despite my trembling hands and the sick knot in my stomach, I grab the wooden pass and return and sit at our table. I finish the worksheet. Every few minutes I peek up at the door, waiting for Gage to enter. But he never returns to class.

  When the bell rings, I make a pitstop at my locker. Roland usually goes to his locker between periods, and I need to… What? Talk to him? What do I say? He walked in on Gage fucking me. And even though that’s mortifying enough, it’s not even what has me so upset.

  The warning bell rings, and still I wait, foot tapping. Roland never appears.

  With a sigh, I spin the lock and open my locker door. A folded piece of paper flutters to the floor. Quickly glancing around as students hurry to their second block, I bend down and scoop it off the floor.

  It’s a handwritten letter addressed to Roland. I skim the note, finding the signature at the bottom.

  Lesley.

  My chest prickles with alarm. I fold the letter and tuck it between the pages of my science book.

  Roland holds a grudge against Gage and his society, and I want to know why. I want the truth. Or at least, his version of the truth. I want to know what really happened to the dead girl and why no one in the Broken Saints will mention her name. Maybe the only way to get those answers is through Lesley herself.

  Chapter 8

  Gage

  The strong scent of chlorine burns my nostrils as I turn my head and suck in air. I reach overhead and gain another foot, cutting a hard line through the pool water.

  Located on the roof of the academy, the enclosed pool is vacant this time of day. The swim team will be hitting the water in another hour, so I kick off the side and swim harder, my muscles on fire with the vigor.

  After I sent Remi away, I had planned to return to class. Until Mrs. de Pont’s text message confirmed today is wasted effort. No one needs this much shit in one day.

  Laps help to clear my head. And between Masters and the chairwoman, a hundred laps wouldn’t be enough to calm me down at this point, but I push harder through the cool water, reaching for that sweet exertion to claim my body and halt the thoughts.

  As I turn my head to blow out a breath, I glimpse a pair of long, sexy legs. I reach the edge of the pool and grab hold of the coping. Clearing water from my face, I look up at Sawyer.

  “You ignored my text,” she says.

  “So you stalk me?” I grin up at her.
“How ladylike.”

  Arms crossed, she’s not amused. I tread away from the edge and swim toward the shallow end. “Did you track my phone?” It wouldn’t surprise me if she did.

  She walks alongside the pool at my pace. “Don’t flatter yourself that I would care to spy on you. I just happen to know you. Very well.”

  I swim up to the steps. “If that’s so, then you know this is not a good time to talk to me.” My mood hasn’t shifted. I can still visualize ramming my fist in Master’s face. A spark of rage simmers under my skin.

  Seated on the third step, I brace my elbows on my knees. From my peripheral, I see Sawyer’s uniform hit the concrete slab. Then her bare legs wade into the pool. She dips into the water, going in waist high.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Swimming,” she says simply.

  I sigh out a lengthy breath. “I’m not in the mood for fucking bullshit, Saw.”

  Skimming her hands through the water, she gradually wades near me. She’s wearing a thin white shirt and black panties. The material of her top is wet and practically transparent.

  My cock tints my shorts, and I blow out a harsh breath.

  “Looks like you’re in the mood, after all,” she says.

  “No, I was just left highly unsatisfied,” I fire back. “Masters has poor timing.”

  This makes her frown. “What are you talking about?”

  I shake my head. “Nothing. What do you want, Sawyer?”

  She floats up closer to me. “We need to do something in honor of Lesley,” she says, shocking the hell out of me.

  “What the hell do you mean?”

  “The anniversary of her death, Gage. It’s all around us. We were her closest friends.” She stands and inches closer. “Don’t you think it will look strange if her friends don’t memorialize her memory in some way?”

  I drive a hand through my wet hair. “Maybe we’re still too distraught.”

  “We should hold a tribute to her at the masquerade this year,” she says, pointblank.