The Resurrection of Us: A High School Bully Romance (Albany Nightingale Duet Book 2)

by Rachel M Raithby

  His hand pauses in my hair, and I swear I hear his heart halt for a beat or two. Exhaling loudly, Grayson trails his fingers through the rest of my hair and stops on my bare shoulder.

  “Are we going to talk about the fact you released a video about my father and destroyed my family?”

  I’m not sure what I expected him to say, but it wasn’t that. Words die in my throat, and my obvious lack of answer is all he needs to confirm his suspicions.

  “What are you going to do when he finds out it was you, Rose? There’s a reason he gets away with so much,” Grayson warns.

  “I never said it was me,” I reply, because I don’t know what else to say. We’re in bed naked; this doesn’t seem like the kind of conversation we should be having. Sitting up, I roll away from him and bring my knees to my chin. “If you really think it was me, then why are you in my bed, Gray?”

  He grazes his hand down my back and I stiffen.

  “I think you know my feelings regarding my father, Rose. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit it shocked me a little and maybe hurt, but it takes guts to do what you did and well… I admire that.”

  “And yet you said I destroyed your family.”

  His hand falls away. “Yeah, you did, but it was my father who did it really.” He sighs. “Guess I just wasn’t expecting Summer to turn her back on me too.”

  “Hasn’t Ashton let you back into the penthouse yet?” I ask, turning toward him slightly.

  Grayson shakes his head. “I’ve booked another room in the hotel.”

  “Wait. Why aren’t you staying with your father?” I frown.

  He sits up too. “I haven’t seen him since the video played. Didn’t like what I had to say, I presume.”

  Guilt sits uncomfortably in my stomach and it’s not something I like. This isn’t supposed to happen. I shouldn’t be regretting doing something they all deserved. “I’m sorry, Gray,” I answer quietly.

  “Don’t be,” he replies. “He deserved it. Besides, I can look after myself.” Climbing out of my bed, Grayson reaches for his jeans. “We best get back before someone notices our absence.”

  “Yeah.” Standing up, I pad the few steps to the dress I left discarded on the floor and shimmy back into it before walking to the mirror to check my makeup and hair.

  The hollow ache inside me that Grayson filled has returned, the void we’d filled with meaningless sex a temporary Band-Aid.

  “Rose,” Grayson breathes, after I’ve brushed through my hair and coated my lips with a fresh layer of gloss.

  Pausing, I meet his gaze in the reflection of the mirror. He’s perched on the end of my bed, jeans on and chest bare. When our eyes lock, emotions swirl in the dark depths, frightening and raw, before he shuts down and the smirk that is his mask falls into place, revealing the dark prince of Albany in all his glory.

  “Tell anyone about the cuddling and I’ll have to kill you,” he says, but I hear his true words. I know what he’s too afraid to say.

  Grayson Bishop has a heart and it cares for me.

  Turning, I too wrap a façade around myself, pulling my dress a little lower and smoothing my locks into place, my smile as wicked and cunning as his. “Don’t worry, Gray. No one would believe me anyway.”

  We’re as lost and as black-hearted as each other. Two people desperately trying to fill the emptiness inside ourselves and seeming only to become emptier.

  Chapter 12

  Rose

  The party went on into the early hours of the morning, and when I finally fell into bed, I was plastered from drinking so much in an attempt to erase the fact I’d used Grayson to forget Ashton.

  And in the end, the sex and the drink failed to do either of those things. My dreams that night were haunted with memories of both Ashton and Grayson, a tangled mess of pictures and feelings that stay with me when I wake.

  “I wasn’t expecting you to be up before noon,” my mother notes as I walk out of my bedroom and into the main living area.

  You’d never know there was a party in here not so long ago. Clearly after I collapsed into bed and everyone left, my mother paid for staff to clean every inch of the place.

  “Couldn’t sleep,” I mutter. I’d rather be back in bed. My head’s pounding, and my tongue feels like sandpaper, but staying in bed any longer would have led to analyzing my dreams. And nothing good ever comes of that.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  Her comment wakes me up more than the cup of coffee I’m currently pouring would have. “Sure, Mother, let’s have a nice heart-to-heart, like we always do on a Sunday morning.”

  “There is no need to get all snooty with me, Rose,” she replies, pursing her lips. “I was just trying to be nice.”

  I take a long sip of the hot dark liquid in my mug. “Well, don’t, I’ve enough to deal without you suddenly caring about my feelings.”

  “You are being unfair,” she snaps. “I am trying.”

  And maybe she has. Maybe I’m so bogged down in my own crap that I can’t see beyond myself. All I know is I haven’t got the brain power to deal with her right now.

  “I’m going out,” I answer, gulping down the coffee like its water. “I’ll be back in time for brunch.”

  “I told them we couldn’t make it today because of the party,” she says to my back as I head for the door.

  “Awesome.” I wave a hand in the air. “I’ll be back for my bed then.”

  Riding the elevator down, I fiddle with the USB in my trouser pocket as my tummy churns uncomfortably. It’s either the coffee, my hangover, or the fact I’m on my way to see Ashton. I’m not sure why he wants the video, but I’ll never be able to stop thinking about it if I don’t ask him.

  Picking up a bagel on my way over, I chew and swallow, not really tasting it as the anxiety inside me slowly builds.

  Walking through the door that’s opened for me, I force a smile onto my face and head for the front desk.

  “I’m here to see Ashton Cole,” I say as the concierge looks up expectantly.

  “Is he expecting you, miss?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll ring up. Who shall I say is calling?”

  “Rose.”

  He pauses as if waiting for my surname, but I don’t give him it. He should know who I am. After a few beats someone must pick up, and I listen to the one-sided conversation as my heart bangs against my ribs.

  He could turn me away. Last night could have been a moment of weakness and the video was an excuse, and I’m sure after he saw me crying on Grayson’s shoulder that he hates me even more, but it’s not my fault the only person I have left to cry on is the devil himself.

  “You can go up, miss,” the concierge tells me after hanging up the phone. “Mr. Cole will be waiting for you.”

  The journey up is the longest I’ve ever ridden, and when I get halfway, I consider going back down and not seeing him at all. Nothing good ever comes out of me seeing Ash; it usually ends with one of us suffering and me trying to find ways to fix what I broke. He has this way of making me feel as if I’m the only one in the wrong, as if I was the wicked witch on a path of destruction and he was the golden king on a clean throne.

  “Did you bring it?” Ashton grinds out before the elevator doors are fully open.

  The hostility in his tone puts me on guard, and as I step out and into the penthouse, I find myself firing back with a little hostility of my own. Except as a lady, I’d never be as obvious with my disgust. The smile on my face and tone of my voice are at odds with the words flowing out of my mouth. “Bring what exactly? I’m afraid my mind’s a little fuzzy this morning and your aggression isn’t helping.”

  He takes a physical step back and his shoulders slump slightly. “The video, Rose, the one of Sophia and Arthur, do you have it?” he clarifies more calmly.

  “That depends on what you plan to do with it?”

  “Does it matter?” he snaps, anger flaring.

  Tilting my head slightly, I raise my eyebrows. “Yes
, it does actually. I’ve learnt my lesson. Even those you think you can trust, you can’t. So, unless you tell me what you’re going to use it for, the footage stays with me.”

  “I could just take it from you,” he states, his words as empty as his eyes.

  Shrugging, I study him for a moment, trying to ignore the pity surging up inside me. “You could I suppose, if you were willing to stoop that low, but remember, Ashton, I’m the queen now and I can make the rest of your time at Albany hell if I want to.”

  “It already is,” he spits.

  Shaking my head, I look him up and down. “I remember you once having more spine. What happened to you, Ash?”

  “You,” he answers, grinding his jaw.

  Laughing bitterly, I turn away and press the button to call the elevator. “That’s a lie and you know it. I didn’t steal your power, Ashton, you gave it away. And if you’d admitted that to yourself before all of this mess started, then maybe you’d have had the backbone to save me that day.”

  The doors open and I step in, USB still in my pocket.

  “I need it as evidence,” he rasps. “For my mom.”

  Pausing, I turn around slowly to find the real Ash facing me—in all his painful glory—gaze sad and pleading, smile true but full of hurt. Stepping forwards, Ash reaches out and places his hand on the door to keep it from closing. “He needs to pay for what he’s done, Rose, and the only way I’m going to be able to do that is with that footage.”

  “Why didn’t you just begin with that?”

  “Because when I look at you, it makes me want to drop to my knees, and I can’t afford to be weak when my mom and Josh are depending on me… so I cover it with anger. I’m burning with it, Rose. It’s all I have left. You’re lucky, you know; you’ve only got yourself to think about.”

  Slipping my hand into my pocket, I wrap my fingers around the USB and lift it out, displaying it between us on my open palm.

  “Thanks,” he whispers, taking it from me, the brush of his finger sending a shiver across my skin. Removing his hand, Ashton steps back and we gaze at one another, waiting for the doors to close.

  I smile sadly, searching every line of his face. “Did you ever think you were the lucky one, Ash? You’re the only one with a family worth fighting for?”

  If he answers, I never know, because a second later, I’m left alone inside the elevator and the walls between us are as thick as ever.

  ***

  By Monday, I’m in no way energized enough for school, and when I enter the ornate doors, gossip awaits me. I make it all of one step before Penelope is rushing to my side and whispering in my ear.

  “Sophia’s back!” she hisses, with way too much enthusiasm for my liking. “And she’s sitting at our table.”

  Well, fuck me. Today is going to be a doozy. “The tramp’s got some nerve,” I reply, my mind already working through ways to get rid of her. I never expected Sophia to have the nerve to waltz back into school and pull a stunt like this.

  When I enter the courtyard, I’m pleased to find no one sitting with her. Her former followers flock around me, excitement like electricity in the air as my heels click against the ground with every step I take.

  “Are you lost?” I ask, eyeing her as if she’s dirt, my hatred a carefully constructed mask. “The old age pensioners home is that way, if you’re looking for a bit fun.”

  Laughter erupts around me.

  Lips narrowing, Sophia jumps to her feet, staring at me with disgust. “It was you who filmed us, wasn’t it?” Her hand comes up, pointing at me with venom. “Arthur’s going to destroy you.”

  Smiling, I shake my head. “Oh, darling, do you really think a man who’s been sleeping with a minor is worrying about protecting you? Haven’t you heard what he’s been saying? You’re the young slut who seduced him, Sophia. No one important, no one worth fighting for.”

  Grayson sidles up on my right, and to my astonishment, Ashton does the same on my left, but I don’t have the luxury of finding out why Ashton is at my side—there’s a bitch in need of ruining.

  “How can you stand beside her after what she’s done to your father?” Sophia spits, eyeing Grayson.

  Smiling darkly, Grayson slips his arm through the crook of mine. “I’d say my father got what was coming, if he was stupid enough to fuck a nobody like you.”

  I’m humming with adrenaline, high on victory. I never got to truly savor Sophia’s downfall on the night the video was revealed, but this moment I’m going enjoy down to the last second.

  “I was going to leave you be when you returned to school, but obviously you’ve not learnt your lesson, Sophia.” Turning to Ashton, I smile sweetly, looking from his eyes to the bottle of water in his hand. “Do you mind?” I ask.

  As he hands it over, a question fills his gaze. “Thanks,” I reply as I unscrew the lid. “I need to wash the stain of skank from our table.” The water flies, hitting Sophia in the face and chest.

  For a moment, the entire room holds its breath and I brace myself for whatever is next, but instead of screaming in rage and attacking me, Sophia’s eyes fill with sorrow, humiliation tinting her cheeks, and she runs from the courtyard, a dirty, ruined queen.

  My court takes up place at our table, whispering and laughing at the morning’s events, and as Grayson slips his arm from mine, I turn to find Ashton watching me.

  “Sorry about your drink,” I say, passing the bottle back.

  He shrugs. “I can buy another.” We stare at each other, a million questions on the tip of my tongue, but none seem to want to come out. “I don’t think you should become this person, Rose,” he finally says quietly. “But I wasn’t about to let Sophia walk back in here as if nothing’s changed.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  Nodding, he turns away. “Goodbye, Rose.”

  “On speaking terms again, are we?” Grayson whispers in my ear.

  Tearing my gaze from Ashton, I turn toward my table and glance at Grayson. “No. Just a mutual understanding that brought us momentarily together.” I’m not naïve; we haven’t suddenly moved past what has happened. Ashton was simply trying to rid himself of a little guilt.

  “I’ve been thinking about you,” he murmurs seductively as I sit down.

  “The first time was a mistake, Gray. I won’t be making it a second.” If I keep using Grayson to cover my pain, it’s only going to get worse.

  He laughs. “We’ll see.”

  “It will only end in heartache, Grayson.” I sigh. Because as good as he is at putting on a show, he’s also let me glimpse the person he keeps locked away within for no one to see, maybe not even himself.

  “That would require one to have a heart.”

  Smiling, I press my palm over his chest, the organ he claims not to have kicking up a beat under my touch, and lean in to graze my lips over his ear. “Just because I said I wouldn’t tell doesn’t mean I won’t forget about the thing beating in your chest right now.” I lean back, studying his dark eyes. “I see you, Grayson.”

  Laughing lightly, he brushes off my touch as if he’s as unemotional as I’d once thought. “And what a sinister sight that must be.”

  The bell rings, cutting our conversation short, and I let my hand fall away from him before getting to my feet.

  “What’s going on between you and Gray?” Penelope whispers as she catches up with me on the way out of the courtyard. “You both looked a little too cozy.”

  “Just harmless fun, Penelope. Nothing to get excited about.”

  She giggles. “Are you sure? You sounded rather excited Saturday night.”

  Rolling my eyes, I wave her away. I’m not confirming anything.

  “I came looking for you,” Penelope continues. “Your door was locked but I heard you loud and clear.”

  My smile is sinful when I meet her gaze again and shrug. “So, I had an itch that needed scratching. Can’t blame a girl for wanting to have a taste of the dark side while I was at it.”

  Gripping m
y arm, she grins like a maniac. “Tell. Me. Everything.”

  Glancing around, I notice the many ears listening in as we walk. “Maybe after school.” I slip my hand into hers and inspect her nails. “Manicure?”

  “Sounds delightful, as I’m sure the party was.”

  “You’ve no idea,” I reply, shaking my head as I return her glee. Sometimes, it’s so much easier being bad than good; it’s a wonder there’s any nice people left.

  “I overheard my parents discussing Sophia this morning,” Penelope begins as we take our seat beside each other in math.

  “What did they say?”

  “That her parents wanted to pull her out of school and homeschool her, but Sophia threw a fit and threatened to kill herself if they did.”

  “Wow. Crazy.” It would have been nice if she’d have listened to her parents. I could have done without the drama this morning.

  “She’d have said anything to get her own way; she always has. But still, I was shocked to see her this morning. There are some things you just don’t expect people to come back from.”

  The teachers called the class to attention, but I’m not listening to what is being said. “Well, hopefully, she got the message this morning. No one is standing with her,” I whisper, glancing between the teacher and Penelope.

  “I can’t believe Ashton stood by you,” Penelope breathes. That makes two of us. “I invited him to the party, but he never showed.”

  “He’s probably got a lot on with his mom,” I murmur, leaning close to her.

  “Maybe, but if he keeps his distance, we’re going to lose all the footballers, and the rest of the girls won’t be happy with that.”

  Internally rolling my eyes, I smile as the teacher focuses on me, pretending to be enraptured by her words before going back to my discussion with Penelope. “The footballers want a bit of skirt before they want to support their captain. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  So do I.

  “They all turned up to my party, didn’t they?” I reassure her.