by Smyth, R. A
The primary theory seems to be that it was one of the cases he presided over. Perhaps someone he sent to prison, or a person that didn’t get the justice they felt they deserved. It’s a plausible theory. If I hadn’t seen the crime scene and know the timing is too coincidental for his death not to be related to Kirk or Kurt, then I’d probably be making the same speculations.
Hopefully trawling through thirty odd years of cases should keep the police busy long enough for us to expose The Citadel. Then they can come to learn who Steven and all the rest of the one-percenters really are.
The other students in the hall start to whisper and stare as Barrett appears, making his way towards me. He’s usually got a charming smile on his face, ready to say hey to anyone looking his way, but today he’s sporting a prominent ‘leave me the fuck alone’ scowl. I bet he’s hating all the sad looks and murmurs, having to pretend to be upset about his dad.
“Get sorted?” I ask him as he approaches, and with one final look out the window, we move down the hallway towards our lockers.
“Yeah, we’re all good. I just wish these nosey fuckers would move on and find something else to gossip about.”
I cast another glance around the hall, giving the nearby students my best death glare until they scurry away.
“Ignore them. They’ve nothing going on in their own pathetic lives so they talk about yours. None of them matter. We will be done with this shithole in a few months.”
“About that...what happens when we graduate?
“You mean if we’re all still alive?”
“Yeah.”
I shrug my shoulders. “I have no idea.”
I don’t. I’m done with this shithole the second that certificate is in my hands. We both are. Neither of us plans on sticking around any longer than we have to, but we never got round to deciding what we would do.
When I was still firmly under my father’s thumb, he made me fill out a college application for the same elitist, douchebag college he went to. It’s the same college all the one-percenter families go to. I know Barrett’s applied too.
We’d both briefly talked about attending. While it’s not the college of our choosing, it would have gotten us away from the everyday shadow of our families. Especially if I was struggling to expose my father. Besides, it does offer a first-class education. Afterwards, we would have been able to do whatever the fuck we wanted without worrying about our families disowning us, or what my father might do. He would have had no more power over me.
Now I don’t know what will happen. Can I even afford to go to college? Not if my dad has cut me out of his will. And if he hasn’t, do I even want to go?
The only reason I’d considered it in the first place was because it was the only ticket out of here that had some financial security. It seems crazy now, but the thought of just walking away, being disowned and having no money, was terrifying. As much as I want to believe Barrett and I would have survived okay on our own, the inability to do laundry and cook for ourselves says otherwise. As someone who has always had things handed to them, who has never had to live in a world where you scrounge for every penny and you don’t know where your next meal is coming from, giving all that up, even if it is for your freedom, isn’t something you agree to easily.
I also don't know what Sophie or the thugs plan on doing either. What we each have with her is way more than just a high school fling, but can our unorthodox relationship survive out in the real world? Could we all actually function together as a unit? I’ve agreed to put up with the other two so I can be with Sophie, but Aiden fucking infuriates me half the time. How would we all manage to co-exist without someone getting hurt or taking it too far and deciding they’ve had enough? Not a single one of us knows anything about how to be part of a family. Do we all care about Sophie enough to at least try?
“Barrett,” a whiny voice cries out as one of the blonde bimbos approaches us. She’s the only one brave—or stupid—enough to come anywhere near us. Every other student see’s our fuck off expressions, feels the anger emanating from us and instinctly moves to the other side of the corridor, scurrying past us with their eyes glued to the ground. But not this idiot.
She reaches out to hug Barrett, like the last few months never happened. Like she didn’t pin our girl to the ground and turn a blind eye while Kurt tried to rape her. The reminder is enough to have my blood boiling as I glare daggers at her.
The minute she touches him, Barrett’s hands snap out, shoving her away. She goes flying to the floor with a high-pitched squeal, looking at Barrett like she can’t believe he did that, while her equally idiotic friend helps her up. In fairness, I’m surprised he had it in him. Before all the shit with Sophie, he would have firmly but gently removed her hands from him, but now he’s got no shits left to give.
“What the hell, Barrett?!” She shrieks. I already feel a headache starting. If he doesn’t get rid of her in the next five seconds, I will. “I was only coming to say how sorry I am about your dad,” she cries, slowly stepping closer to us again. Stupid bitch hasn’t learnt her lesson apparently.
“Well you can do that without touching me,” he growls at her.
Lizzie casts her eyes up and down the hall nervously as though she’s looking for someone. “She’s not here, you don’t have to act like you hate me,” she whines, taking another slow, calculating step towards Barrett, completely ignoring the promise of death on his face. “I won’t tell,” she whispers coyly, batting her eyelashes at him while she reaches out her hand to touch his arm. “If you don’t.”
He once again bats her away, barking out a laugh and taking a large step back, so he’s once again out of reach of her grabby hands.
See that’s the problem with these people, they think just because no one knows you’ve done something wrong that it doesn’t count. She doesn’t care that Barrett’s with Sophie. In her mind, as long as Sophie doesn’t know about it, then it doesn’t matter. Just like with The Citadel. No one in this community has any idea what the one-percenters are up to. It’s like it’s not even real, but there are girls in that house who are living in torment, their worst nightmares come to life. It’s fucking sick.
“If you think Sophie’s presence is the only thing stopping me from going anywhere near you, you’re fucking deluded,” Barrett snarls at her, crossing his arms over his chest and staring menacingly down at her. “I swear to god, Lizzie, if you come anywhere near me again, or do anything to Sophie, you’ll be done for. Not just at school, but in this town. Your family will be done for. You’ll lose everything.”
Her eyes widen with every threat Barrett delivers. He bends down close to her, and I swear despite the fact he’s clearly threatening her, she still fucking leans into him. When his face is mere inches from hers, he whispers, “We will fucking destroy you,” before spinning on his heel and storming away. I cast a final look at the shock and confusion on her face, before following after him.
“You got the info on the one-percenters from your PI, right?”
“Yup, he emailed it all to me yesterday.”
“Good, we’re taking her and her family down first.”
A slow grin crawls across my face. She and the others deserve nothing less than the destruction we are about to reign down on them.
________
As the day wears on, I keep an eye on Lizzie and Cece out of the corner of my eye, but their presence continues to be ignored by the rest of the student body and they don’t talk to another living soul. Lizzie casts the occasional look across the room at Barrett, but instead of the usual swooning lust and greedy need, her glances are wary. I guess she’s finally using the one brain cell she has.
When I’m not keeping tabs on them, I’m watching Kurt. Without Sophie around, drawing all of my attention and unknowingly driving me to distraction, I’m noticing how different Kurt is from the beginning of term. He would always have been quiet, more like myself than Barrett with his easy-going extroverted personality, but being a one-percen
ter, he always had groupies around him. Guys who wanted to be him and girls who wanted to fuck him.
That doesn’t seem to be the case anymore. It’s like he’s faded into the background. It’s not that he’s stopped getting appreciative looks from girls or worshipping ones from guys. He’s still a one-percenter after all. No matter how hard he tries to make himself invisible, he will always be noticed. It’s that he’s stopped responding to the attention. He doesn't reciprocate or respond to anyone, like he’s lost in his own head. Hell, when he’s not in class he’s not even around. All day, as soon as the bell goes, he disappears. I’d noticed that he stopped hanging out at the one-percenter table at lunch, but I honestly hadn’t given much thought as to why or where he was hiding out. His withdrawn behaviour is disconcerting to say the least. Especially because it seems to coincide with Sophie’s arrival, and, given what he did to her, I wouldn’t put it past him to try something again. I’m going to have to keep a closer eye on him, he’s acting shady and I don’t fucking like it.
The bell rings, signalling lunch, and we make our way to the dining hall, grabbing food and taking seats at our new table at the back of the room. It’s funny, looking at the one-percenter table in the middle of the room, it just looks like any other table. There’s nothing special or fancy about it, and yet, not all that long ago, it felt like being at that table was everything. It defined who you were. Defined who I was.
What’s funnier is that the once bustling table that every other student would side-eye with jealousy, now sits empty. Barrett and I sit at Sophie’s table every day, the Barbies are banned from sitting there, and Kurt is always off doing god knows what. No one else dares to sit there, so instead it sits empty, showing how fractured the one-percenters have become this year...perhaps it’s time for a new group to become the leaders of this school.
It's only since I stepped away from it all, stopped giving a shit how everyone viewed me and trying to control every student in this school, that I’ve actually found myself. I finally feel at peace. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still filled to the brim with rage and ready to deck a fucker just for looking at me the wrong way, but I’m more content in myself. I no longer feel that need to control every little thing around me just to feel some semblance of power over my own life.
Things are more fucked up than they have ever been before, and, by all accounts, I should be freaking out at the lack of control I have over everything around me. Yet, I’m not, and it’s all because of Sophie. She grounds me. She’s given me a glimpse of a life I secretly coveted, but believed to be out of my reach.
“Hey guys,” Neill greets, sitting down at the table beside Barrett and pulling me out of my thoughts. What the fuck does he want? He’s always been on the fringes of the one-percenter circle, but other than when we were getting him to fake date Sophie—yeah, not our greatest moment in hindsight—we’ve never spent much time with him.
Barrett and I share a brief look before he casually responds. “What’s up?”
“Nothing much. Haven’t had a chance to chill with you since you started hanging around with the new guys and my sloppy seconds,” he laughs.
My eyes narrow as I grind my teeth, trying to remind myself why it would be a bad idea to knock him out in the middle of the lunchroom.
Barrett doesn’t respond to his shitty joke either. Instead, the three of us lapse into an awkward silence, the fuckhead not getting the hint that he’s not wanted.
“There’s a party at my place this weekend, you guys in?”
“Sorry man, we’ve got plans,” Barrett responds immediately, brushing him off. His quick dismissal doesn’t sit well with Neill, who grinds his teeth.
“For real? You never come to the parties any more.”
“Barrett had a party last week that we were at,” I argue. Who the fuck does he think he is, coming over here and talking shit because we won’t go to some stupid party? Fuck me, I wish worrying about whose parties we attended, or didn’t attend, was the biggest problem we had. It doesn’t even make the list. Who gives a flying fuck if we show up or not?
The shithead just snorts. “Yeah, and you spent the whole time brooding or hanging out with the weird new kids or Slutsalot, then left after like an hour.”
I swear to fuck, if he insults Sophie one more time I’m going to rip his dick off and stick it to the top of the flag pole on the front lawn of the school.
“Watch it,” Barrett growls, as fed up with this conversation as I am.
Neill looks between us with a shocked expression that quickly morphs into laughter as he slams his hand in the table. “No way, you two are actually fucking her too? I thought that was just a rumor. Damn, I had no idea she was so easy.” He continues to chuckle, shaking his head. “She’s good pussy, right? They do say practice makes perfect.”
And with that final statement, the fucker just dug his own grave. He’s still got that fucking smirk on his face as I launch myself across the table, grabbing hold of his shirt. Using the momentum, I drag him out of his chair and haul him across the table, sending food, drinks and trays scattering. I throw him onto the floor before launching myself on top of him, straddling him as I rain down blow after blow, punching his face, his chest, his torso. Everywhere and anywhere I can use my fists that will have him suffering.
I hear the satisfying crunch of cartilage breaking as my fist connects with his nose, snapping it into an awkward angle as blood begins to gush down his face, covering both of us. I still don’t let up though.
“Dont.” Punch. “Ever.” Punch. “Talk about.” Punch. “Her.” Punch. “Again.” I snarl out the words, contempt dripping from every word.
I continue to batter him until I’m panting and my chest is heaving. My knuckles split but the pain only serves to center me, encouraging me to continue.
Finally, when the fucker’s unconscious beneath me, Barrett grabs my arms, dragging me off him. It’s only then that I notice the gathered crowd of students surrounding us. Every single asshole in this place has stopped what they were doing to witness to our fight.
“You’re going to kill him,” Barrett murmurs quietly against my ear so none of the students around us can hear him.
“So?” I growl, the adrenaline from the fight still riding me hard.
He sighs like I’m being fucking obtuse. “So,” he says slowly, as though he’s talking to a child, “you can’t kill him here.”
“Tell me where and when then,” I snap back, pissed off at him for pulling me off the fucker before I was finished. My hands are shaking from adrenaline, my eyes bouncing around all over the place, struggling to focus on any one thing.
The asshole ignores me. “Come on, we need to get out of here.” He drags me through the gathered crowd who part for us as we pass, no one dumb enough to stand in our way or get too close.
I let Barrett drag me out of the lunchroom, only shaking him off when the doors close behind us, blocking us from prying eyes.
“What the fuck?” He shouts, rounding on me, his own anger ratcheting up. “What the fuck was that?” He gestures with his arm towards the hall we just exited.
“What? He fucking deserved it and you know it,” I argue back, pissed off that he’s not on my side.
“Even so, doing it in the middle of the lunchroom, in front of everyone, was fucking stupid. Any one of them could report you, not to mention the small matter of the unconscious body we just left there. He’s going to need to go to the fucking hospital, you get that, right? He could bring charges against you. Do you seriously think we need to worry about that on top of the other bullshit we’re dealing with?”
He’s absolutely furious with me, as he stomps back and forth across the corridor, lecturing me. He doesn’t even give me a chance to respond or defend myself. Not that I really have anything to say. Now that the adrenaline has started to wear off, I can understand what he’s saying. It was a dumb thing to do, but I still stand by the fact that he fucking deserved it. Hell, if anything he got off lightly.
“You can fucking explain to them what the hell happened. I’m having no part in it. I’m going to sit back and watch Sophie and Aiden hand you your ass.”
He starts storming down the hallway, pausing beside the bathroom. “Get the fuck in there and clean up. I’m not having you stain the interior of the car with that blood.
Once I’ve washed the blood off my hands and face, we leave the school, making our way across the parking lot. I cast my eyes towards the gate, noting that the bikers from this morning have all taken off. They likely left not long after the first bell went, realizing their targets weren’t going to show up today.
Barrett makes a beeline for my sleek sports car as I unlock it, climbing in behind the wheel. I’d switched out my car yesterday for an SUV. It’s the perfect car for driving around town in, and for when the others come back to school. It’s got dark tinted windows and even the windshield has a slight tint to it that causes the light to reflect off, creating a glare and preventing anyone from peering in. With Barrett and I pretending we’re living our old lives right now, it made more sense to swap back to my beautiful baby Stingray for school today.
It’s not long before we’re pulling into the warehouse. The pain has now fully settled in my knuckles, the sting like the comfortable embrace of a long-lost friend. It’s been way too long since I’ve been in the ring, letting off steam. I need the regular release like others need food or oxygen.
“Get out,” Barrett snaps, when I make no effort to move from my seat. “Time to face the music.”
Chapter 8
Waking up as the filling in a Preston-Barrett sandwich was the best start to my day. These intimate moments with all of them are so new to me, but especially with Barrett and Preston. When the two of them stepped into my room last night, I was equal parts excited and nervous, not knowing what to expect. I thought it would be awkward, the three of us trying to navigate our way around each other, trying to work out where each of us fit in this relationship and how we all work together, but there was none of that. Perhaps because the two of them are already such a powerful unit. They already know one another’s thoughts and can predict the other’s actions. Whatever it is, their surety and heated looks more than compensated for my nervous fumbling.