by Leia Thorne
My nostrils flare, my patience running short. Emry’s too smart for his own damn good. “And, I assume, you know that now, too.”
He relaxes, slipping his hands into his pockets easily. “I assume there’s an endgame here that benefits you in some fashion,” he says. “In fact, I’d wager that Remi is more beneficial to you than any of us.”
He wouldn’t be wrong. “What do you want, Emry?” I demand.
A heavy pause hangs in the air. Then: “I want Palmer out,” he says.
I smile grudgingly, shake my head. “You’re so pathetically whipped. Even if I snapped my fingers to make that happen, do you think Sawyer would let that happen so easily? What about what Palmer wants?”
“I think… Once I give you what I know about Sawyer, she’ll be too busy to worry about Palm and me.” I lift my chin, and he continues. “I overheard Remi and Roland talking about a letter pertaining to Lesley. Whatever all three of them are up to…I’m sure I could find out.”
I nod slowly and move closer to him. “Is this some form of blackmail?”
His smile is smug. “We’ll remain devoted to the Broken Saints through senior year,” he says. “Then, after graduation, you release us from any obligation. Palmer is to have no future debt to you or anyone else.”
I consider his offer. “Palmer’s attending college in Paris for ballet. Are you going to follow her across an ocean?”
He shrugs. “Oxford isn’t that far away. I just might.”
True love, or true dependency?
Either way, I can work with desire. When a person wants a thing, needs it, they can be leveraged. I might just get more out of Emry now than in the future. Remi is the ultimate prize, now more than ever. With the queen de Pont as my enemy, my legacy depends solely on Remi.
I extend my hand. “As long as you prove useful in this endeavor, I’ll honor this deal.”
Emry shakes my hand once, sealing the deal, before he returns to the auditorium.
I straighten my glasses and head down the hallway. The access door to the academy bell tower is located in the courtyard, and it’s the only place on the academy grounds that is absolutely private.
The boxed maze of stairs that winds up the tower is six levels deep. It takes exactly ten minutes to climb these steps, giving me enough time to think—to recount everything that led to this moment.
What I told Remi in the limo wasn’t a lie—it was a version of the truth. She’s far more important to me than Lesley ever was. Lesley was weak. Worse, she refused to be mentored. As clearly observed on the security footage that just aired to the entire school.
Faced with a truth she just couldn’t accept, Lesley deteriorated. She could’ve viewed her adoption into one of the most powerful and prestigious families as a privilege. She was chosen. That made her special. Instead of accepting the life bestowed to her by the de Ponts, she railed against the de Pont name and her place in the secret society.
What infuriated me the most was Lesley’s inability to grasp the magnitude of her legacy, the power she had waiting for her. She wasn’t just a royal—she was the royal. As a de Pont, as the only successor to her mother’s crown, it was her birthright to become the next chairwoman of Crescent Valley.
The fucking hub of the organization.
I admit, my jealousy ruled me during that time. Watching myself on the screen just now, I realize just how close I was to unleashing my fury on Lesley for her obstinance. Hell, five more minutes of having to listen to her sniveling whine, and I might have pushed her off the damn balcony.
But I didn’t.
Lesley’s last words come back to me: What do you want?
Someone else was there.
Who wanted Lesley out of the way?
And where the hell is the rest of the fucking footage?
As I reach the fifth landing, I stop to catch my breath before I have to confront Sawyer. Hands braced against the stone wall, I close my eyes and focus my breathing.
I may have lost one battle, but Remi’s arrival at Brighton proves I’ve yet to forfeit the war.
The only way Lesley would not stand to inherit her title was if she renounced herself before the council. But first, before she relinquished the obligation, she could cast her vote toward another member.
Had she been patient, had she been even the slightest bit trainable, in just a few short years, she could’ve bowed out gracefully and handed the whole burden over to me.
I climb the last flight, my chest on fire. Not from the exertion; every emotion I’m capable of feeling is fighting for dominance within me as I stare at Sawyer. Her graceful form is silhouetted against the stone arch window.
When I first saw her tonight… Elegant was the word that came to mind. Until she betrayed me yet again. Defiant in spite of what it’s going to cost her and her mother. Still, she’s a vision of beauty in that glimmering silver gown; an exquisite creature I’ll never stop longing for.
She could be poison and I would welcome her into my veins.
I move toward the center of the tower, where the ancient bell that no longer chimes is encased by wooden beams. The tower has been renovated over the years, creating a safe haven for those who seek secrecy…like us.
“Remember when we used to skip classes in here,” Sawyer says, as she gazes out the window.
I tug loose the bowtie around my neck. “We’re not here to go down memory lane,” I tell her. “I doubt you want to play that game, seeing as how it ended the last time we were both here.”
She turns to face me, her arms hugged around her slim waist. “God, you’re still hung-up over that. Pathetic, Gage. But fine,” she snaps. “You’re right. I don’t want to play any more games.”
Good. It’s about damn time. “Who the fuck played that video?”
Chapter 16
Sawyer
My throat constricts, and I can’t answer his question—not yet.
A choice was made before I walked through the doors of the auditorium. When I left the diner this afternoon, I had already decided. Gage was my past; I was quitting the bad habit.
I’ll admit, fucking with Gage used to be a turn-on. Getting him all twisted and wrapped around my finger was the ultimate high—to own an Astor boy, play with him and make him suffer… Gage has always been my favorite toy.
Just like he broke my Barbies when we were kids, I liked to hit back. Dr. Callahan—if he were still our shrink—might say we’re in an abusive relationship. We hurt each other, get off on the pain. We make amends, over and over, only to do it again.
It’s a sick, endless cycle. And I’m to blame just as much as Gage.
But something changed recently. First, there was Lesley. Then Remi. And my mother…
Very real damage is at stake.
This is no longer a game to Gage, if it ever was.
The moment I looked at Roland tonight, I knew he came to homecoming for me. I may have chosen him tonight on impulse—but what’s that saying? The heart wants what the heart wants? That stupid quote never made much sense to me before, but I get it now.
It’s not about being with someone because you love them. It’s about loving who you are while you’re with them—the promise of the person you can become.
Egocentric? Yes. But it’s the fucking truth.
Every single person on this planet lives to serve his or her own ego. We are all self-centered. Some of us are just able to fool ourselves a bit easier.
And I thought… God, I thought for one fleeting second that I could change. That I could walk toward Roland on that dance floor like in some cheesy 80s movie and the scene would stop right there.
The end.
The underdog wins. Sawyer gets her happy ending.
Only, this isn’t a sappy movie, and I’m not the underdog or the hero.
I’m one of the villains.
I wanted to see myself in a new light through Roland’s eyes—glimpse the girl he sees when he looks at me. Who is Sawyer Van Doren to him? But in the end, it was onl
y wishful thinking, because when that video played on the screen, I was reminded of exactly who I am and why my stupid fantasy was just that.
The hurt in Roland’s slate-gray eyes when he asked me not to leave… To stay for him… It slayed. But that means I’m capable of feeling, right? Pain proves you’re alive.
And I’ve never been more alive than in this moment.
I hold Gage’s gaze, unwavering. “I don’t know who did it,” I admit.
Gage removes his glasses, tucks them into the inseam of his tux. His movements are calm, collected. Yet I can sense the rage simmering just beneath his cool exterior.
“You, Masters, Remi…” Gage trails off. “You’ve been busy behind the scenes, plotting your own little game.”
I shake my head. Unbelievable. “I could say the same about you.”
“I’m not the one fucking a Masters,” he spits the name.
“You’re the one who told me to get close to him.”
His laugh is mockingly cruel. “Oh, and you took that to mean fuck him. Right. Because what’s one more notch on Sawyer’s proverbial bedpost.” He looks at me with disgust. “Masters is behind that video, and I think you helped him.”
“Why would I want anyone to see that?” I say, my voice shaking.
“I have no idea, Sawyer. I couldn’t possibly fathom what your warped, little brain is thinking lately. I’m seriously questioning your mental state.”
The discussion with my mother comes back to me, and anger bites my nerves. “You just can’t stand to lose,” I say. “How could the boy that I grew up with, the boy who was my closest friend, inflict so much pain on me?” I shake my hair from my shoulders. “Tell me. How could you do it?”
The tower is dark, but I can still make out the blue of his eyes as he levels a lethal glare on me. “My father has a right to know what he’s marrying into.”
My arms drop to my side, I curl my hands into fists. “The wedding is being postponed. The merger, too. Until I agree to a psychological evaluation at an away treatment center.”
He sighs out a long breath. “It’s for your own good. You’ve become a dangerous girl.”
“Go to hell,” I say. “All this because you can’t stand the thought of me being with someone like…” I clip off my words.
“Roland?” he supplies.
“Anyone. Anyone that is not you.”
“How the hell do you think it will look on both our families for you to be seen with him?” A dark laugh tumbles from his mouth. “Seriously? Astor and Van Doren consort with financial crooks. Oh, that won’t draw any bad publicity.”
“You’re such a snob,” I say.
“Elitist,” he counters. “There’s a decisive difference.”
I look away, every muscle in my body lit on fire. When I finally meet his eyes again, I’ve regained a measure of calm. “I think reputation is a moot point to argue after tonight, anyway.”
He tugs at his cuffs, adjusting the sleeves of his tux. “Nothing has been done tonight that can’t be undone.”
I huff a derisive laugh. “That’s your answer for everything. Astor money will fix it.”
“It always does.”
“Not this time,” I say. “Whatever has been breaking inside me for this past year, you or your money can’t fix. You have to just…let me go, Gage.”
His eyes spear me. “Never.”
I march toward him and push his chest. “Let me the fuck go!”
His hands circle my wrists and he pulls me closer, our faces inches apart. “The way I see it, your whole argument is void now.” He backs me against the stone wall. “There is no more pending marriage to keep us apart, and you can finally let go of that pathetic guilt and blame over Lesley’s death.” His gaze flicks over my face searchingly. “You didn’t kill her by telling me about her adoption, and I didn’t kill her by using it against her. The video proves that much.”
I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter,” I say, my voice unsteady. “I just want you to release me. I just need to be free of you, Gage.”
He swallows hard, a muscle jumps along his jaw. “I can’t do that…”
“Please…” I hold his gaze, my lips trembling. “You have to.”
He licks his lips, defiant. “There’s only one way for either of us to be free of the other.”
He releases my arm. His hand touches my face adoringly, his thumb grazing across my lips. I shut my eyes against the torturous feel of him. Just like that moment on the balcony where I wasn’t strong enough to deny him, because my craving for that bad thing was just too intense.
His hand slips down my body, slowly traveling to my back, where he catches the clasp of the zipper. The sound of his slow descent as he drags the clasp down echos against the stone surrounding us.
I open my eyes, my cheeks wet from the hot tears that finally found a way out. I wish I could deny his claim—prove there was another way for us to sever this damning connection between us…but deep in my soul, I know his words are true.
The only way to get Gage out of my system is to be with him.
Douse the fire once and for all.
His hand splays against my back, skin to skin, as his warm breath caresses my lips. A weighted moment suspends around us, one last chance for one of us to back out, alter this destructive course…
Then I’m pulling him to me.
Our lips crash in a violent kiss.
Chapter 17
Remi
The frigid night air forces me to hug my arms around myself as I try to fend off the chill. I should’ve brought a shawl, or jacket. I’m shivering and cursing myself as I wait under the arch outside the academy.
The last thing Gage said to me was to meet him here. I check my phone again. I sent him a text ten minutes ago, but he still hasn’t responded.
After Gage left the auditorium, it was madness. Principal Barton was trying to locate the feed that projected the video while voices rose. Confusion, questions and accusations. The cheerleader clique was in tears, so distraught. Palmer came close to attacking Sadie, and I barely managed to talk her down. Where was Emry?
Once order was restored, and people resumed the dance, all Rush wanted to talk about was how homecoming was rigged—how Gage wasn’t even on the football team. At that point, I slipped out of what was left of our group and searched for Roland.
I couldn’t find him or Sawyer.
I’m about to go back inside to the dance where it’s warm when a Town Car pulls up to the curb. I tilt my head, trying to see past the tinted windows. Maybe Gage changed cars.
The driver exits and comes around the vehicle. He opens the backdoor and nods my way. “Ms. St. James.”
Finally. “Yes, that’s me,” I say. “Thank you.” I walk toward the sleek black car, holding my clutch under my arm. Relief to see Gage and look into his eyes and know that everything is all right grips me tightly.
However, as I approach, I notice a pair of women’s legs and I stop short. She waves a hand just outside the open door. “It’s all right,” she says. “Let me give you a ride.”
I look over my shoulder. I’m alone.
“Remi,” she calls my name, then her head peeks out the open door. “Please, come join me.”
You do not get into cars with strange women in Town Cars. This seems kind of obvious. But there’s something inviting and tender in her voice that draws me closer. She sounds melancholy, or lost.
I pause when I’m a few feet away. “Can I help you?” I ask.
“Actually, you can.” Her smile is soft and warm. Her short dark hair is as sleek as this car, and she’s wearing a white business suit. “Please, let me give you a ride. The weather is supposed to drop tonight.”
I fidget with my purse. “I’m waiting on my—”
“Gage?” she interrupts. Her smile widens. “I have it on good authority that he’s going to be a while.”
This feels dangerous. Who is this woman?
She extends her hand. “I’m Tabatha de Pon
t.”
Shit. Lesley’s mother. I recognize her now from the picture on the yacht with Lesley. Her hair is a darker shade and shorter, but her eyes…they’re the same dark pools. With a resigned step forward, I accept her hand. “I guess you know who I am,” I say, then shake my head quickly. “Sorry. I mean, it’s nice to meet you.”
She pulls back and laughs. “No apologies needed. I’m sure this is odd, me approaching you like this.” She tilts her head. “I’d really like to talk to you.”
I glance back at the doors to the academy one last time before I draw in a fortifying breath and duck my head to enter the backseat of the car.
Mrs. de Pont moves over a seat to allow me to sit beside her as the driver closes the door. The overhead lights dim slowly, gradually shrouding us in darkness. Then the driver is in the front seat, taking us away from Brighton.
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and reposition my gown, stalling. I’m not sure why I’m here. Did she hear about what happened at homecoming, the video of her daughter projected in front of the whole school? Am I hiding something from her if I don’t mention it?
“Gage’s family and ours have been longtime friends,” she says. “We’re very close.”
I nod. “That’s nice. Where is he?”
She looks forward. “I believe he and the Van Doren girl have some unfinished business to work out.”
Sawyer. “I’m sorry… How do you know this?”
Her gaze settles on me. “How could they not, after what happened during the homecoming dance?”
She’s aware of the video. I glance down at my lap, twirl the diamond bracelet around my wrist. “That must have been really upsetting for you to hear about.”
Her sigh is clipped with emotion. “Yes. Well, I could storm the academy and demand a search warrant from the local idiots who botched the investigation a year ago… Or—” she releases a heavy breath “—I could focus my efforts on more positive, productive endeavors.” She leans forward and addresses the driver. “Marvin, please don’t miss the turn up ahead.”