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

by Leia Thorne

  I look up at her, and I’m damn sure my face is strained in disbelief. I grab her wrist and yank her forward, putting her face just above mine. “That would be a fucking stupid idea,” I say, my tone serious.

  Sawyer slides her knees along my legs, parting her thighs wide. She’s sexy as fuck, but I try my damndest not to get ensnared in her trap. “I mean,” she says, “you’re already close with Mrs. de Pont. Using her penthouse. Her yacht. It should be simple enough to get a plus-one to the ball. I’m sure she’d appreciate her daughter’s friends putting together a special gesture during her biggest party of the year.”

  I almost smile. My little minx. She’s too smart for her own damn good.

  I grasp her thighs and pull her down onto my lap. Water sloshes around us. “What is this? Blackmail? You think you figured something out?”

  She twirls a finger into my hair, her gaze not meeting mine. “What I think is…I don’t give a shit about your stupid secret society stuff, Gage. The most powerful people in Crescent Valley attend this party, and you and your daddy go every year. I want an invite. And I want to know why Mrs. de Pont allows you to throw kickbacks on her yacht.” Her sea-green gaze penetrates me. “What are you up to?”

  I try to shove her away, but her legs circle my waist. She latches on to me, seating her sweet cunt right up against my cock.

  My fingers dig into her thighs, my restraint weakening. “Your questions are very dangerous for me, Sawyer. Do you want to hurt me?”

  At the confused draw of her features, I sigh out a lungful of air. Lay my head on her chest. Her fingers splay into my hair as I nuzzle her breasts, seconds away from gripping the hem and tearing her shirt off.

  “Talk to me, Gage,” she says. Her voice has lost its snarky edge. It’s just us again. The us before the Broken Saints and our parents’ engagement. “What’s going on?”

  When I look up, I want to trust her. I wish I could open up to her and reveal the sordid truth. That Tabatha de Pont has lost her fucking mind. And she just happens to be the chairwoman of an elite sector of a secret society that rules the fucking world—and she has it out for me.

  She blames me for her daughter’s death.

  I’m a damn legacy, but my father’s status won’t buy me in past this woman. No, I have to earn it myself, and she’s tasked me with a mission that means I have to damn near ruin Remi to make happen.

  “Roland Masters,” I say, confusing her further. I rub my hands over her thighs. “I need you to get close to him.”

  She licks her lips. “Why?”

  “Because, before Lesley…” I trail off, leaving the worst unsaid. “Before she was gone, I think she got close to him. Might have told him some things. We need to figure out if he’s bluffing in what he claims to know.”

  “All right. I can do that.” She grabs ahold of my neck, working her hips to situate herself higher on my lap. She rubs up against my cock, drawing a hiss from me as I clench my teeth. My response makes her smile. “And if I discover what he knows…?”

  She wants me to grant her access to Mrs. de Pont’s masquerade. I can’t do that. There’s only one girl I can get into that scene, and my plus-one is reserved for Remi. At the chairwoman’s request, of course.

  But—I grind the hard length of my dick against her pussy—Sawyer doesn’t need to know that just right yet. “I’ll take you to the ball,” I say, clamping my hands to her hips.

  She undulates on top of me, slowly and seductively rolling her hips, threatening to make me lose my fucking mind. “You fucking tease…” I slide my hand up her inner thigh, just skimming her panties before she backs away.

  Her lips spread into a soft smile. “You know the rules, Gage. You know why we can’t.”

  Right. “That lame excuse is getting old, Saw. I’m sure step siblings don’t grind against each other in pools, either. But here you are, trying to seduce me into getting your way.”

  She goes still. “You know, ever since she showed up, you haven’t been the same.” She eyes me closely. “Have you fallen for our little pet?”

  I cup her ass and slam her up against my rock-hard cock, making her breath stutter in the most arousing way. “She’s not afraid to kiss me…to fuck me,” I say. “So sue me for enjoying her very willing company.”

  Her mouth so close to mine, I can feel her ragged breaths. She’s holding back. She eases her hips up and, so torturously slow, rubs her pussy along my cock, stroking me until it’s almost painful.

  “Christ, Sawyer…” I grip her arms, dangerously close to unleashing my cock and tearing through those skimpy panties.

  She leans in close to my ear. “Have you really moved on from me that easily?”

  Fucking hell. The torturous bitch. I release a clipped breath as my cock jumps, rising to meet her every time she slides down along my shaft. “You know I love you,” I say.

  “Then let me help you.” When she comes up this time, she slips her hand down my bare chest and rubs the heel of her hand hard along my cock. “Tell me what you’re doing with Mrs. de Pont. Why is she so dangerous to you, Gage?”

  And like a splash of ice-cold water being dropped down my shorts, reality breaks through the haze of lust. My hand circles her wrist. I grab her other hand and push her back, holding her off me.

  “Whatever you’re concocting in that twisted head of yours…stop. Here’s the cold, hard truth.” I stand, bringing her with me. “Mrs. de Pont is vulnerable, and so I get a few treats thrown my way. She likes my family. And Remi? She wants me. I like being wanted, with no manipulative strings attached.”

  As I step out of the pool and grab the towel from the wall hook, I can feel Sawyer’s seething gaze on my backside.

  “You want us all to do your bidding with no return,” she says.

  I turn to face her. “No, I want you to honor your pledge. Or have you forgotten all about that?”

  Her features fall, unreadable. “I have honored my pledge and then some. So, fuck off, Gage. A girl has to do what she must. Where’s the quid pro quo? If I handle the Roland situation, I better be in attendance at the masquerade.”

  I run the towel over my hair, raising my eyebrows. “Or what? You’ll cock-tease me to death?” A cocky grin slants my mouth. “Been there. Done that.”

  She pops her hands on her hips, her tits on full display through the wet shirt. She’s even sexier when she’s furious. “Don’t underestimate a Van Doren, Gage.”

  “Oh, I don’t. I know a Van Doren woman can land an Astor man when she puts her pussy to it.”

  With an arrogant smirk, Sawyer grabs a towel and stalks off toward the locker room. Perfect timing, too, as the door opens, and members of the swim team start to file in. The girls give me a once-over as I wrap the towel around the back of my neck.

  I wink at them and head toward the guy’s locker room.

  I get dressed and decide that today might not be a complete cluster fuck just yet. Sawyer has inspired me to reach new heights. After all, if my relationship with Remi wasn’t getting to her, she never would’ve found it necessary to try to reinstate her control over me in the pool. Only someone who fears being replaced goes to desperate lengths.

  I saw the crack. Sawyer revealed a weakness.

  Time to apply more pressure.

  Chapter 9

  Sawyer

  After that moment in the bell tower, one thing was abundantly clear to me: I would lose myself if I ever gave myself completely to Gage.

  The side of myself that I keep hidden from everyone else…that one special compartment just for me…he’d devour. Wholly and utterly. We’d feed off each other, becoming some monstrous thing; neither one of us being able to recognize the boundaries anymore. We’d never stop.

  We’re too alike, he and I. He knows all my secrets.

  Or, at least he did back then. I’ve since learned to guard them.

  Like the reason I need to attend Mrs. de Pont’s masquerade. It was a risky move on my part, trying to keep my intentions masked from G
age. But I know that whatever secret agenda he’s courting has something to do with Tabatha, and I need access.

  Knowledge is power—and the only way to truly protect myself will be to obtain Gage’s secrets, his power.

  We used to tell each other everything.

  I was the first to join his little society. Since it was just the two of us to start, we hadn’t yet established the initiation ceremony. Instead, joining the Broken Saints meant I had to pledge to Gage. Just like Remi did, I had to trade a secret. And since I had nothing to offer that Gage didn’t already know, I gave away someone else’s.

  Lesley was my friend before she was inducted into our society. I spent time at her house; I knew her mother. I had also heard my mother talk about a secret adoption that took place when she was in high school.

  It could’ve been just another Crescent Valley rumor. Something for the bored wives of the Valley to gossip about. But then one day, I found something suspicious. Lesley and I had been planning a getaway to Europe without our parents.

  Two weeks where we typically went on a ski trip with a chaperoned group in Aspen, we planned to spend in Paris shopping. There was only one issue: Lesley didn’t have a passport.

  I couldn’t believe it; who didn’t have a fucking passport at the age of fifteen? I set out to remedy that, and obtained a copy of her birth certificate. Not the hardest thing in the world to do when you have money to pay the right people.

  I remember holding the slip of paper in my hands. Reading the copy of a very doctored certificate. The birth parents had been erased, and Lesley was a whole year older than she’d been told. I’d stumbled onto one of the biggest secrets in Crescent Valley. And when I sold that secret to Gage…I sold my soul.

  I’d opened a Pandora’s box.

  A shiver races up my back at the memory, and I slip my arms into my hoodie jacket.

  Palmer loops her arm through mine. “Are you cold?”

  “No. Just tired.” We’ve exhausted the hunt for the perfect homecoming dresses, and are now making our way to the mall parking lot.

  It was the dress that Remi tried on that triggered my memory. Seeing her in that sparkling Mac Duggal…she looked just like Lesley at prom. I immediately talked Remi out of the dress. Lesley is already haunting the academy, she’s around every corner, hanging on every banner. I can’t have her ghost following me around the homecoming dance.

  Instead, Remi selected a lavender two-piece. A lace-top corset with a long, flowing skirt. A striking blend of classic and fresh. She was iffy at first, but once she tried it on, it was a perfect match.

  Palmer went with a sexy and sleek sweetheart gown. With her dancer’s body, the rose-gold dress is stunning. She’s stunning, of course, and would look fantastic in a paper bag. I, on the other hand, have more shopping to do. A trip into the city is required.

  My mind is too preoccupied with the assignment Gage has tasked me with. Admittedly, when he mentioned Roland, there was a moment of panic. Roland is one of those secrets I’ve kept selfishly for myself.

  Which I need to make sure remains that way.

  “Palm, can you drop off Remi?” I ask, turning toward my Lexus.

  “Sure,” she says, laying her sealed dress in the backseat of her convertible. “You’re not going to the treetop?”

  I spin to face them both quickly. “Not tonight. I totally forgot Mom has this whole dinner thing planned.”

  Palmer nods, easily persuaded, but Remi says nothing. She’s always been quiet, but today she’s been downright withdrawn. At first I thought it was just nerves about the dress, or the dance. But as she slides into the passenger seat of Palmer’s car, I notice how pallid her skin tone is in the daylight.

  “Hey, Rems. Are you all right?” I ask her.

  She waves me off. “Yeah, I’m fine. I think something at lunch didn’t settle right.” She looks at Palmer. “Honestly, I’m not really up for the treetop tonight, either. Can you drop me at home?”

  Palmer agrees, and I watch the girls drive off. Something is definitely off with Remi, but I’ll have to investigate that later. I drop into the driver’s seat and dig out my burner phone.

  When your soon-to-be step brother owns all the little nerdy hackers in town, you don’t use your phone to text secret hook-ups.

  I punch out a text to Roland: I need to see you.

  “That was fast.” Roland is leaned up against the brick building as I close my car door. Outside the walls of the academy, the bad-boy loner sheds his uniform like a snake skin, and what’s beneath is sexy as sin.

  His black band T-shirt reveals the tattooed outlines that sleeve his forearm. They’re incomplete, as he has to travel to the city to get them worked on, and it takes money. Something that, even as a resident of CV, he’s struggling with ever since his father was sent to prison.

  I’m honestly not sure how he and his mother have fared keeping him enrolled; maybe there’s a deal on the table. All I know is that when the hedge fund scandal went public, money got hidden. There was this news report about the investigation and how his father suddenly “lost” millions of dollars. Right.

  “Fast?” I question, as I sink my thumbs into the waist of my skirt. “I only texted you fifteen minutes ago.”

  His forehead furrows, and I notice the bruised skin beneath his eye. “I meant, it didn’t take Remi long to confront you.”

  I stop walking. My heart slams against my chest wall. “Of course not,” I say, feeling him out carefully. “She trusts me.”

  He scoffs. “Of course. Just like Lesley trusted you. Until you turned whatever nasty secret you had on her against her.” He strides toward me, long legs eating the distance between us. “So, are you here to confess? Finally admit the truth?”

  Whatever Roland has done, I’m damn sure it’s the source of Remi’s odd behavior this afternoon. Gage wasn’t wrong; Roland has a vendetta to carry out. Our little tryst in the supply closet might’ve pushed him over the edge.

  I try to remain calm, rein in his anger toward me. “I’m not upset, Roland,” I say, stepping closer to him. “I thought what happened between us…was special.” I blink up at him. “You didn’t feel that way?”

  It’s only a flash, but there’s a crack in his armor. A moment where his stone features give way to a softer expression. Then, just as suddenly, his defenses snap back in place.

  He rakes a hand through his dark hair, a mock laugh slipping free. “You’re so good at what you do, Sawyer.”

  A slight smile curls my lips. “I thought we were both pretty good at it.” I reach up to touch his face. “What happened to your eye?”

  He catches my wrist. “I might be weak when it comes to your body, but don’t treat me like one of your brainless followers.”

  I snatch my hand away. “You kissed me back,” I say, my voice laced with malice to cover the hurt. “Remember? I didn’t force myself on you.”

  His slate eyes watch me carefully. He works his lip ring as he thinks. “No, you didn’t have to. I’m guilty of my own weakness. It’s like trying to shake a bad drug habit. You keep taking hit after hit to bury the pain, to cover the mess you made while high. But the mess just gets worse. This stops now. That’s why I gave Remi the letter.”

  The letter. What letter?

  Panic flares, and I scramble for a way to leverage more from him. With a resigned nod, I move beside him against the brick wall of the restrooms. I stare out at the wooded park. I can see the memorial statue dedicated to Lesley from here. A solid slab of white marble that’s been carved into an angel overlooking the park.

  “So, you care about Remi,” I say, fishing, baiting him.

  He crosses his arms, defensive. “It’s not like that,” he says. “I care about watching her become used and abused. Like Lesley. I don’t understand why…” He trails off, shakes his head. “You know what? I do get it. You’re just a rich, bored bitch who gets off on fucking with people. Literally.”

  Roland pushes off the wall. He storms toward his motorc
ycle. As he reaches for the helmet, I step forward. “Wait—”

  It’s enough to make him pause. He looks at me expectantly. I run my hands over my hair, unsure of what to do or say. This isn’t like me, and I hate this helpless feeling. I hate not knowing what’s at stake.

  I take a chance. “What was in the letter?”

  His head tilts to the left, those gray eyes guarded. Holding his helmet under his arm, he walks toward me. “Remi didn’t tell you?”

  I roll my shoulders back, forcing bravado I don’t feel. “She didn’t give me the details.”

  How bad is it? What were Lesley’s last thoughts that she felt had to be written down? A hard lump forms in my throat just questioning that period of time. Her, Gage, me…

  Roland stops before me, and I look up into his chiseled face. He brings the helmet up and places it over my head. “What…?” I start to say, as he takes my hand.

  “Let’s go for a ride.” He brings me to his motorcycle, some classically restored black-and-silver Harley. It’s so him that, as he mounts the bike, it’s hard to tell where rider begins and machine ends.

  He kick-starts the engine and revs the throttle, a slanted smile beckoning me closer as he pats the seat behind him.

  A force laugh falls from my lips. “I’m wearing a plaid skirt.” I cross my arms and cock an eyebrow.

  He shrugs. “Does showing a little ass really bother you?” He rocks the bike backward, kicking up the stand. “Besides, you’ll be wearing a helmet. No one has to know you’re with me…if that’s what you’re really afraid of.”

  I meet his eyes with a challenge. “I’m not afraid of anything.” I glance around the empty park, then with a fortifying breath, grab hold of his shoulder as I throw my leg over the seat. I lock my arms around his waist as he takes off.

  The loud rumble of the engine vibrates through my chest, the wind stealing my breath. I bury my head against his shoulder as we coast down backroads. I’ve never been on a motorcycle. It’s exhilarating. Adrenaline courses my veins, my heart knocks in my chest.