Hidden (The Scions Book 1)

by Gemma Weir

  “Everything okay, Princess?” Dad asks.

  “I’m fine. It’s just been a long day. Emmy said something about them all coming over tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, we asked all your aunts and uncles over for a bit of a pool party.”

  “We only had a big party at Auntie Brandi’s a week ago.”

  “Well, we’re having another one. That a problem for you?” My dad asks.

  “No, Sir.” I sigh. “I’ve got homework I need to start.”

  “Go on up, baby. I’ll shout you when dinner’s ready.” Mom says.

  Nodding, I leave the kitchen, grab my purse and head to my bedroom. That night dreams plague my sleep, dark eyes watching me, seeing everything I’m trying to hide. More than once, I wake up covered in sweat, tears rolling down my face, and when the sun starts to rise, I finally give up on trying to get any proper sleep and roll out of bed.

  Slipping into my bathroom, I take a long shower, letting the hot water rejuvenate my body. Clean and a little more awake, I pick a pretty pink and yellow bikini from my dresser and put it on, sliding jean shorts over the bottoms and then head downstairs. I finger comb my wet hair as I walk, then loosely braid it into two braids.

  The kitchen is quiet and empty, so I put on a pot of coffee to brew, then grab my Kindle and pad out onto the patio at the back of the house. After us kids were born and Mom and Dad had to extend the house, they landscaped the yard, adding a pool, a huge jungle gym, and a massive patio area. It’s the perfect place to sit and relax and as the sun pushes higher in the sky, I curl up in a chair and read.

  Emmy’s a much bigger bookworm than me, but some of her enthusiasm and constant recommendations have rubbed off on me and I have a pretty healthy obsession with paranormal romance books. I waste the next hour lost in a world full of Fae and magical creatures all fighting for an escape from oppression.

  A cup appears in front of me and I startle, jumping and dropping my Kindle to my lap. “Shit,” I cry.

  “Language,” Mom says, but instead of reprimand, there’s amusement in her voice. “Here,” she says pushing the cup toward me again.

  “Thanks.” Reaching out I take the mug from her hands and sigh when I realize it’s coffee, not the tea she’s been making me drink the last couple of days.

  “Couldn’t sleep?” She asks, lowering herself onto the seat next to mine, not looking at me as she sips her coffee, her eyes trained on the yard in front of us.

  “Weird dreams kept waking me up, so I decided to just get up.”

  We both fall silent, drinking our coffees.

  “You know you can tell me anything?”

  “I know, Mom,” I say quietly.

  “Being your age is a lot harder now than it was when I was eighteen.”

  “Back in the dark ages, right?” I say with a smirk.

  “Hey, I’m not that old.”

  I scoff, lifting my cup to my lips again to disguise my laughter.

  “But you know I’m here, okay?” Mom says, her hand landing on my thigh.

  Turning to face her, I nod. “I know, Mom. But I’m fine, I promise.”

  “Okay, baby.” She’s not convinced, but she lets it go and we drink our coffees in comfortable silence.

  People start to arrive just before lunch and by the time the grill is lit our house is full. Valentine’s here, I saw him arrive, but he and the rest of the boys disappeared downstairs as soon as he got here and I haven’t seen any of them since. There’s no way he can do anything to me in a house full of my family, but even so, the fear I felt yesterday surged back to life the moment his eyes found mine.

  Most of the time us kids tend to stick together, but when Emmy suggested we stay outside and tan rather than head to the basement with the guys, I was only too happy to agree. The sun is warm, the lounger comfortable and the noise of happy shrieks and splashes from the pool all combine to make me sleepy. Dropping my cell to my side, I close my eyes and relax. Emmy’s next to me, her Kindle gripped tightly in her hands as she eagerly devours whatever book she’s reading.

  “So how is Valentine settling in?” I hear my mom ask from where she and Auntie Brandi are sitting at a table behind us.

  Glancing at Emmy, I look to see if she’s listening, but she’s not, obviously engrossed in her book.

  “Okay, I think. He’s very quiet; keeps to himself. Honestly, he’s barely spoken to ether me or Sleaze, but he’s polite, and he seems to get on okay with the other kids.” Auntie Brandi replies.

  “Zeke and the twins seem to think he’s nice. They’ve been hanging out and I know Zeke has been driving him to school.”

  “I don’t really know what to do with him. I want him to be happy here. I’d love for him to think of our place as home, but I’m just not sure if we’ll be able to get through to him before he graduates. The kid’s file is heartbreaking. No friends, no relationships. He keeps himself to himself and is rarely anywhere long enough to actually settle in. Considering his history, I’m surprised he’s not a hundred times worse. The fact that he’s made friends with Zeke and Griffin is huge. Maybe a stable home and some nice kids will be a turning point for him?”

  Both women sigh audibly, and I silently beg them to say more. I don’t know a single thing about Valentine Miller except that he came from El Paso, he doesn’t like me, and that he’s scary. If I could, I’d never set eyes on him again, but our families are so entwined together I know that’s not an option.

  As if thinking about him has summoned him, he appears from the house, wearing black jeans and a black t-shirt. It’s far too hot to be in so many dark clothes, but at least this time he’s not wearing his hoodie as well

  Spinning around, I duck down, hiding from him like a frightened rabbit. I’m pathetic, but after yesterday I don’t want to deal with him. I can still feel the lingering touch of him on my lips when he silenced me and the feel of his fingers around my throat. Goose bumps pebble on my arms and I rub at them, willing them to go away. When I peek behind me again, he’s gone, and I exhale a relief filled breath.

  Hours later, the party has died down and only Auntie Brandi, Uncle Sleaze, and their kids are left. Yawning, I tug my sweater tighter around me and unfurl myself from my seat on the patio. “Night y’all, I’m going to bed,” I announce, lifting Sabrina carefully from where she’d fallen asleep next to me.

  One by one, I lean in and drop a kiss, first on Auntie Brandi then Uncle Sleaze’s cheeks and then I do the same to my mom and dad.

  “Night, sweetie,” Mom calls, as I pad barefoot into the house.

  The boys are all in the basement, still playing the same video game they’ve been on all day. Honestly, I have no idea how they can still have any interest in it after six hours straight, but I’m grateful that it’s kept Valentine away from me the entire day.

  I make my way upstairs and into my room, closing my door behind me. Changing into my pajamas, I slide beneath my cool sheets and set a playlist to play on my cell while I close my eyes. The quiet murmuring of my parents on the patio beneath my window and the melodic sounds of the soft piano playing from my cell lulls me to sleep.

  The feeling of my bed dipping jolts me awake and I glance behind me, opening my mouth to scream when I find a body next to me. Before I can make a sound, a hand clamps over my lips and a familiar voice rasps against my ear.

  “Quiet, Princess.”

  My body begins to shake and fear consumes me. Valentine is in my room, next to me in my bed. He could do anything to me, he could hurt me. When he lifts his hand from my lips, I open my mouth to speak, but my words are shaky. “Wh- what are y- you doing in here?”

  “I didn’t really notice last time, but I expected your room to be more princess-like,” he says, ignoring my question, his eyes roaming the darkened space.

  His hard body is close to me, his thigh pressing along the side of mine. I think about screaming. My dad would be in here in a heartbeat. But I don’t and I have no idea why. “What do you want?”

  “I want th
ose fuckable lips around my dick,” he replies lazily, his fingertip trailing along my arm, leaving tingles of fear in his wake.

  My body goes rigid and my fight or flight instinct kicks in. In a panicked move, I roll away from him as quickly as I can, falling from my bed and landing on my ass on the floor.

  “Blow jobs aren’t particularly regal, are they, Princess?” He drawls, not bothering to move. He merely watches me, his huge body relaxed across my comforter. “But as you’re already on the floor waiting, maybe you’re not feeling hugely royal tonight.”

  “You need to get out,” I say, attempting to sound firm and failing miserably when my voice shakes.

  Unfurling like a cat, he slides off the bed, rising to his full height. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. G- get out,” I stammer.

  “I think you like me being here,” he says, slowly walking around my bed and toward me.

  Scrambling upward, I take a step back for every one he takes forward. I feel like a caged animal. He’s backing me into the wall and fear surges through me as hot tears fill my eyes.

  “I think you like that I see you, when no one else does.” He taunts, still moving forward, each step purposeful.

  I shake my head, words rising and then dying on my tongue. I don’t like him. I don’t like the way I feel whenever he’s near me. “No,” I say, the single word like acid on my tongue.

  He prowls toward me until he’s so close, that an inch forward would have his chest pressed against mine. “You’re lying. I don’t like it when people lie to me. I’ll have to think of a way to punish you.”

  A ripple of something; fear or maybe something else, something darker that I refuse to acknowledge pulses through me and when he smirks I know he’s seen it too.

  His hand snaps up and he wraps his fingers around my neck, just like he had at lunch. I swallow, closing my eyes so the tears that are threatening to spill don’t fall.

  His hot breath hits my cheek and I whimper.

  “Sweet dreams, Princess.”

  His grip loosens, then falls away completely, but I keep my eyes tightly shut until I hear the click of my door as he closes it. Swallowing thickly, I force my eyes to open and the darkness of the room consumes me, but not even the shadows can hide me from the panic and fear that hits me in a riptide so strong I’m helpless but to let it take me under.

  Sinking to the floor in a heap, I cradle my head in my hands and let the tears fall. For a long moment I let my emotions engulf me, giving myself over completely to the tsunami that crashes over me, leaving me a sobbing, shaking mess. Eventually I cover my mouth with my hands and try to break down my feelings.

  Waking up to find someone, anyone, in my bed in the middle of the night is terrifying. But for it to be Valentine, someone who seems to take pleasure in hurting and scaring me? Tremors of fear run along my skin and I know my limbs are shaking, but would he actually hurt me?

  I don’t know what he’s capable of. He’s aggressive, but if he really wanted to harm me, he’s had more than one opportunity already and he hasn’t. Perhaps he’s just a cat, taunting a mouse, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, or maybe it’s more than just a game.

  What frightens me almost as much, is that there’s a part of me, hidden really deep inside, that’s thrilled by his psycho behavior. Being around him is an adrenaline rush, similar to the way I feel when I jump from the rope swing over the lake. I know the water’s coming, but for a second, when my body is weightless and flying through the air, I’m both terrified and excited. I know he hates me, but as much as he scares me, his touch excites me. I don’t understand it. I hate him. I’m scared of him, but I’m also hyper-aware of my body whenever he gets close; like his proximity sets off a catalyst of feeling inside of me. My tears dry up as quickly as they started and I pull in a sharp inhale of breath and push up from the floor, crossing to my door and turning the lock with shaking fingers.

  Climbing back into my bed, I reach for my cell and look at the time. It’s a few moments until midnight; I’ve been asleep for less than an hour. Laying back against my pillows I try to regulate my breathing, but I can still feel the faint tremors running beneath my skin. Closing my eyes, I try to calm down, but all I can see is him, all I can feel is his fingers on my throat. Fear and relentless need taunt me for the rest of the night, and I don’t fall asleep again until the sun is climbing up into the sky.

  Sunday passes in a daze of chores and homework and by the time I climb into bed, both my mind and body are exhausted, and I fall into a blissfully dreamless sleep. When my alarm clock goes off the next morning, I crawl out of bed and get ready for school. The kitchen is filled with the scent of coffee and I sigh wistfully as I move on autopilot to make myself a cup. I’m the last one down and I sit next to Dill at the table and quickly fill a bowl with cereal.

  “Are you okay, sweetie?” Mom asks. “You look a little tired.”

  “I’m fine,” I say, through a mouthful of food. Eating quickly, I finish my coffee and then pour a second cupful into my travel mug before kissing Mom goodbye and heading for my car. Pulling up outside Emmy’s house, I only have to wait a minute before she rushes through the door and barrels toward the car.

  “Go, quick,” she says, the moment her butt hits the seat.

  I pull away from the curb while she’s pulling her door shut and scrambling to put on her seatbelt.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Mom wants to do my makeup,” she says with a scowl. “She’s been obsessed ever since we went to that party last weekend. This is all your fault.”

  I giggle. The sound escaping despite me tightly twisting my lips together to try to hold it back.

  “I hate you,” Emmy says, roughly shoving her backpack between her legs and forcing it to the floor.

  “Your mom is amazing at makeup; I’d love it if she wanted to do mine every day.”

  “She had red lipstick out.”

  This time a bark of laughter bursts from me, “Oh my god.”

  “Exactly! When would I ever wear red lipstick?”

  “I bet you’d look amazing with a bright-red, matt tone,” I muse, glancing at her from the corner of my eye.

  “No,” she snaps, pointing her finger at me menacingly. “Don’t you dare. I’m a nude lipgloss kind of girl at best. Never, ever bright-red.”

  By the time I pull into the school parking lot, Emmy has finally stopped scowling at me. We’re early, so I park in my usual spot and we both climb out and sit on the hood of my car. “Something weird happened after you left on Saturday night.”

  “What?” Emmy asks distractedly, as she roots through her huge backpack for something.

  “I went to bed and then woke up with Valentine lying next to me.”

  “He slept in your room?” Her head snaps toward mine so quickly, she’s probably given herself whiplash.

  “No!” I exclaim. “I went to bed and then something made me wake up and he was just there right next to me. He let himself into my room and climbed into my bed.”

  “Oh my god,” Emmy cries, concern and worry clear in her expression. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. He didn’t… he didn’t hurt me or do anything.”

  “So why was he there?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, gripping my cup tightly. “I think he’s just trying to fuck with me. On Friday, he came and found me and basically forced me to go back to the cafeteria, then he insisted that we partner for art class.”

  “Maybe he likes you?” Emmy suggests.

  “No,” I scoff. “I think he’s just a dick who enjoys messing with me.”

  “Has he tried to kiss you?”

  “No!” I cry. “Although he did ask me to give him a blow job.”

  “What?” Emmy splutters, her mouth falling open.

  I can’t help it; I giggle at her horrified expression. “It’s not like it’s the first time an asshole guy has suggested I get on my knees, Em.”

  Her face sobers and concern fills
her eyes. “I don’t know, Nova. This is all sounding a bit messed up. Valentine isn’t a boy we’ve known our entire lives. He could be dangerous. You need to be careful. Did you tell your mom about him coming into your room?”

  I shake my head. “He hasn’t actually done anything other than be a bit weird. I’ll start locking my room when he’s in the house, but I don’t think I need to start freaking everyone out by telling my mom.”

  Emmy doesn’t look convinced.

  “If he does it again, I’ll tell my dad and he can kick his ass.”

  A small smile twitches at the corner of her mouth. “Okay, just be careful.”

  Valentine doesn’t speak to me when he climbs out of Zeke’s car, but I can feel his hot glare. More of our friends join the group and I easily slide back into my detached persona, watching the people around us with a disinterested sigh.

  We enter the school as a group. Me, Zeke, Emmy, Griffin, and Valentine move as one and kids scatter, making a pathway for us. Valentine has ingratiated himself so effortlessly into the top tier that people automatically treat him like they would us. He’s a part of our group, and I hate it; almost as much as I hate him.

  As we walk through the hall, Henry Thomas unfurls from his locker and falls in step with me, his arm sliding smoothly around my waist.

  “Come out with me tonight,” he coos.

  This isn’t the first time Henry’s asked me out. After Cade and I broke up, he relentlessly barraged me with invites, but when I rejected him over and over again he eventually gave up. This is the first time he’s asked me on a date in months.

  I stop walking just before I reach my locker and turn to face him, my lips in a straight line, my face expressionless. “Where?”

  Shock flashes across his boyishly handsome features and a cute blush flushes his cheeks. “A movie maybe?”

  “Try again,” I say, popping my hip and sighing dramatically.

  “Dinner?”

  “Where?”

  “Mastoni’s?”