Heart Stopper: Rebels of Rushmore Book One
Page 6
It takes great effort on my part to keep my irritation to a minimum when I think about last night’s party. One of my flaws is the inability to forget and forgive.
I park just behind Troy’s car and wonder if he managed to clean up the mess already. Boy, if he didn’t, there will be hell to pay.
No, Charlie, you can’t get mad all over again.
After a mental pep talk inside the car, I finally get out, bringing all the grocery bags with me in one trip. I prepared myself to deal with Troy, not the four strangers who are currently cleaning the living room, and it takes me by surprise.
“Who the hell are you?”
I would have dropped the bags and reached for the pepper spray can in my purse if it weren’t for the fact that these guys are on their hands and knees, scrubbing.
“Uh, we’re Pike pledges,” one of them answers.
Like that’s supposed to make me feel better. Fuckers.
“Okay, pledge. Why are you cleaning my house? Where’s Troy?”
“He left with Andreas to grab food,” a second dude replies.
“Of course he did.”
I head for the kitchen, which is spotless. They did a good job here, I’ll give them that, but my anger has come back with a vengeance nonetheless. Who leaves four strangers in the house and goes out? Nimrods like Troy. Damn. He didn’t even stop to consider what I would think. Like that’s every girl’s dream—to walk into her house and find four strangers in it.
I put away my groceries and then head to my room, locking the door for good measure. I’m seriously considering Ben’s chicken idea now. Still obsessing about Troy and my aggravation with him, I begin to take off my clothes. Absentminded, I open the bathroom door, half-dressed, only to find another pledge taking a shit in my toilet.
With a scream, I slam the door shut and quickly put my jeans back on.
“What the hell! Why are you in my fucking bathroom?” I yell.
“Sorry. I didn’t want to go downstairs.”
Fuming, I storm out of my room, almost colliding with Troy.
“What happened?” He looks at me, worried.
“What happened?” I shriek. “You’re a fucking asshole!”
I don’t think twice, just lift my knee, hitting Troy’s crown jewels with all my might. He groans, folding forward as he covers his crotch with his hands.
“What the fuck? Are you insane?” His face is contorted in agony as he stares at me as if I’m crazy.
Poop Boy comes out of my room, sporting a guilty expression on his pale face. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Get the hell out of my sight,” I grit out.
Giving me a wide berth, he hurries down the stairs.
Troy is standing straighter again, but his expression is no longer contorted in pain. Fury flashes from his eyes instead.
“You are one crazy bitch,” he says.
“That’s typical male behavior. You screw up, and when I retaliate, I’m the bitch.”
“How in the world did I screw up this time?”
“Really? You don’t know?” I gesture wildly. “How about you throwing a party last night without the courtesy of letting me know first? Never mind letting your friends tear through my things. And now I come home to find a bunch of strangers in my house with you nowhere in sight. But the cherry on top was to walk into my bathroom and find a dude taking a big dump in my toilet.”
My breathing is coming out in bursts by the time I’m done with my tirade.
Troy is no longer shooting daggers from his eyes. What I see shining from those hazel depths is much worse than hate. It’s desire. The realization that he wants me serves to awaken a fire in the pit of my stomach that quickly travels through my body.
“I’m sorry,” he says in a husky voice.
My bones melt, and my pussy throbs as if getting it on with Troy is actually an option. Hell to the fucking no. He’s an asshole. I don’t fall for those, no matter how good-looking they are. Heart-stopper as he may be, I’m not going to succumb.
“Right,” I say, hating how feeble I sound.
My knees are weak, and if he keeps staring at me with that hungry gaze, I might combust on the spot.
I run back to my room and lock the door. I have to do something to make Troy forget any ideas about me. I’m not sleeping with him, and he needs to stop wanting that.
Chickens in his bedroom it is.
11
TROY
Rooted to the floor, I run a nervous hand through my hair. My heart is beating furiously inside my chest as I stare at Charlie’s closed door. My junk still hurts like a mother, but that didn’t stop my cock from standing at attention. I got a hard-on watching Charlie vent her frustrations. I must have gone insane. But her furious red face and wild arm gestures made me want to pin her back to the wall and crush my lips to hers.
“Oi, Troy. Everything okay up there?” Andreas asks from the bottom of the stairs.
His voice brings me back to the situation at hand. And then I get fucking angry. I practically run down the stairs just in time to catch the idiot who used Charlie’s bathroom before he can sneak out.
I grab him by the back of his shirt and yank him away from the front door. “What the hell were you doing in my roommate’s bedroom?”
His pale face turns ashen, and sweat dots his forehead. “I-I had the shits and didn’t want anyone to know.”
His friends snicker, but one pissed-off glance from me has them shutting their pieholes in an instant.
“I warned you to stay clear of the second floor, didn’t I?” I glower at the guy in my hold.
“Y-yes. I’m so sorry.”
“Troy, come on. He didn’t do it on purpose.” Andreas tries to help, but I’m not having it.
“You shut your mouth too. I should never have listened to you.”
“Man, all that fuss because Charlie is pissed at you again. If I didn’t know you any better, I’d say you have a major crush on the nerd.”
His statement makes me see redder.
I shove the pledge forward. “Get out of my house. All of you!”
The guys don’t waste any time, hurrying out the front door. Andreas doesn’t move a muscle, just keeps staring at me with a knowing smile on his stupid face.
“You’re wrong about me. I don’t have a crush on Charlie.”
He raises his hands. “Sure you don’t. It’s cool, man. I’m not judging.”
“The hell you aren’t.”
He holds my stare for a couple more beats before turning his attention to the living room. “At least they finished cleaning the place.”
I fleetingly look at the living room before my cell phone pings in my pocket. I welcome the interruption; if I continue the conversation with Andreas, I might use him as a punching bag for my frustrations. It’s a text from Jane, asking if I want to hang out this afternoon. Damn, if she’d asked me an hour ago, my answer would have probably been no, but considering my mood and the situation with Charlie, I could use the distraction.
“So, what do you want to do?” Andreas asks.
“I don’t know about you, but I have plans.” I veer for the door.
“Really? I thought you said you wanted to do nothing but veg out in front of the TV.”
“Well, that was before the clusterfuck with the pledges and Charlie.”
“Who texted you?” He nods at my phone.
“Jane. She wants to hang out. And no, you can’t come.”
Andreas flattens his lips. “Charlie was right. You’re an ass.”
He strides out the front door with his shoulders tense and a storm of bad emotions hanging over his head. I pissed him off—something that’s almost impossible to do. Whatever. I’m too wired already; I don’t want to worry about Andreas flirting with my sister on top of it. Even if he swears he’d never cross that line, it’s in his DNA to chase pretty girls.
* * *
After Jane tricked me into going shopping with her, we headed to our favorite restaurant in
Manhattan Beach. The sun is shining, and the temperature is mild, so we grab a table outside. Perks of living in California. I’m almost over my hangover, but I still order a beer. I need to take the edge off.
“Are you finally going to tell me what was eating you when you picked me up?” Jane plays with the straw in her drink, watching me closely.
“I already told you. I was hungover. That’s all.”
Like I’m going to tell her about Charlie. I don’t need another busybody on my case about that she-devil.
“All right then. I want to ask you something.”
“Shoot.” I relax against the back of my chair.
“Mom is on my case about school next year. She doesn’t want me to attend Rushmore.”
“Why the hell not?” I frown.
Jane twists her face into a grimace. “She wants me to go to an Ivy League school. Barf.”
“Hmm, you’re smart enough to get into one. What about Stanford? It’s not Ivy, but it’s a top school, and you’d still be in California.”
“I don’t want to move to Northern California. I like it here. Besides, John Rushmore is an excellent school. Why aren’t you taking my side?”
I pause for a couple seconds. I’m always on my sister’s side, especially where our mother is concerned. So why the hell am I not rebelling against the Ivy League idea?
“Because we’re talking about your future here, Jane. If you can go to a better school, why not?”
Pursing her lips, she crosses her arms over her chest and glowers at me. “I’m not moving. If you’re not going to help me convince Mom, then please don’t gang up with her against me. It’s bad enough that Dad is with Mom on that front.”
He would be, considering he’s a Stanford alumnus. Maybe I am being an ass by not supporting Jane with her decision.
“Sorry. I won’t join the Stanford team. I’m on your side.”
Her serious expression softens. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I glance to my right, trying to catch the attention of the waiter, when I spot a familiar face on the other side of the restaurant. Son of a bitch.
“Speaking of the devil, Mom is here.”
Jane turns to look. Our mother is sitting alone at a table, but then a man approaches her. She glances at the stranger, and her face splits into a radiating smile. The man leans down to kiss her on the lips.
“Whoa. Mom has a new boyfriend?” Jane says in awe.
“It looks like it.”
We watch the scene unfold in silence. Mom’s new guy sits across from her and then covers her hand with his. The way they keep staring at each other tells me the relationship is new. They’re in the honeymoon phase.
“I don’t feel comfortable staying here. Should we go?” Jane asks.
“Sure, but not before I introduce myself.” I get out of my seat.
“Troy….”
Ignoring Jane, I make a beeline toward Mom’s table. She doesn’t notice me until I’m hovering over them.
Her boyfriend glances at me, frowning. “Can I help you?”
“No, just came by to say hello to my mother.”
The guy’s face becomes pale in an instant. He looks at Mom, who has a deer-in-headlights gaze. It’s clear my interruption is soiling their romantic mood. Ah, something is finally going my way today.
“Troy, what are you doing here?” she asks finally.
“I could ask you the same thing.” I turn to her companion, extending my hand. “I’m Troy Alexander. And you are?”
“Bill. My name is Bill.”
We shake hands, and then an uncomfortable silence follows. Not for me though. I’m having a great time making Mom squirm for a change. This is too much fun.
“So, how long have you kids been seeing each other?” I ask.
“Uh, your mother and I are just friends.”
The lie confuses me. Why would he say that when a second ago, they were gazing at each other like two teenagers in love? They both look extremely uncomfortable now.
“Is everything all right here?” a newcomer asks.
Glancing at his button-down shirt and slacks, I guess him to be the manager. Man, he’s good if he noticed the discomfort at this table from afar.
“Everything is peachy. I was just saying hello to my mother.” I flash the guy a dazzling smile.
He glances at my mother and her boyfriend as if to get confirmation that I’m truly not bothering them. Mom remains frozen, but her date nods ever so slightly.
I clap my hands together. “Well, I’d better get back to Jane. It was really nice meeting you, Bill.”
“Yeah, same,” he mumbles, still dazed.
I’m smiling from ear to ear when I return to my table.
Jane’s green eyes are as round as saucers. “I can’t believe you went there.”
“I would never pass up the chance to annoy Mom. You should have come.”
“Who is the guy?”
“Some schmuck called Bill. He didn’t give me a last name.”
“Odd. Maybe he was afraid you’d come after him.” She laughs.
“Or he’s a gigolo and Bill is his code name.”
Jane glances over her shoulder. “Oh look. They’re leaving. What did you say to them?”
My eyes are widely innocent when I answer, “Nothing.”
12
CHARLIE
I have to wait until Saturday to exact my revenge since I don’t know Troy’s schedule. During the week, he tried to apologize again for what had happened, but I really didn’t want to hear his excuses. The reason was simple: I didn’t want him to convince me to forget about the prank. I can’t afford to fall for his charm. A beautiful, cocky football player like him would crush me and obliterate my heart if I let my guard down. Then, I’d have to move out.
My accomplices today are Ben, Tammara, and Fred. Blake vehemently refused to help, citing his aversion to birds as an excuse. I would have preferred to not involve Ben in my schemes, but since he’s the one with access to the animals, I couldn’t leave him out. He and his girlfriend were like kids on Christmas morning as they helped load the birds in the van Fred had borrowed from work.
Troy left the house before the sun was up, and he won’t be back until the end of the day. Enough time for our aviary friends to get comfy in his room. We brought only a dozen chickens with us, which should be plenty to get the job done.
Right before we release the animals in Troy’s room, hesitation grips me. Maybe this prank is a little too extreme. But then I remember everything Troy has done to me since we met, the lack of respect and common courtesy, and the guilt takes a back seat.
I’ve never been in his room before today. He keeps it in immaculate condition. There isn’t a thing out of order. No dirty clothes on the floor, no dust covering the furniture.
Man, he’s going to blow a fuse when he comes home.
“Wow, look at this room. Who knew homeboy Troy was such an organized freak,” Fred pipes up. “Are you sure you want to do this, Charlie?”
“I found a guy taking a shit in my bathroom last weekend. Yeah, I want to do this.”
He shrugs. “Okay. You’re the boss.”
“Too bad we won’t see his reaction,” Ben says. “We should have bought a hidden camera.”
“I thought about it, but I think the chickens are punishment enough. We don’t need to add invasion of privacy on top of it,” I reply.
“Oh, glad to hear there is a line you won’t cross.” Fred chuckles.
“Ha-ha. Shut up and help me release the birds.”
“Release the Kraken!” Ben shouts.
“Make sure Troy doesn’t harm the chickens, okay, Charlie?” Tammara glances at me.
“Yeah, of course. Besides, I don’t think Troy is the type of person who hurts animals.”
Once all the chickens are free, we close the door and head downstairs. We hang out for a little bit before Fred has to return the van and Ben and Tammara go to the movies.
I’m in the kitchen making a sandwich when I hear a car door bang shut outside. My heart skips a beat, and then it accelerates to a hundred. I’m suddenly nervous about Troy’s reaction. It’s one thing to lash out in the heat of the moment; it’s quite another to plan retribution. I realize then that serving revenge cold is not my game.
Troy comes in carrying his huge duffel bag over his shoulder. His hair is damp, pushed back off his forehead in a messy way. A wisp of desire curls around the base of my spine, an odd contrast to the twisted ball of nerves in my belly. I wish I weren’t attracted to the guy. It would make my life so much easier.
He glances in my direction and hesitates for a second before he says, “Hello.”
“Hi,” I croak.
Shit. Okay, Charlie, you can still stop this. There’s time to avoid Armageddon.
But as much as my conscience urges me to do something, I don’t move from my spot. Instead, I watch in frozen terror as Troy heads up the stairs. I’m literally shivering.
Ugh. This is fucking madness, Charlie. Snap out of it. Raven the Sorceress would never second-guess herself.
I turn toward the fridge and pull a bowl of strawberries and a can of whipped cream from it, setting both on the counter.
A moment later, Troy curses so loudly that I’m sure it can be heard from miles away. I wince and then glance at the front door. I can make a run for it.
“Charlie! I’m going to kill you!”
Fuck. I don’t think he’s joking. But he’s already at the stairs, so running now would be pointless. He’d be able to catch me.
“What? Didn’t like my surprise?” I ask innocently.
His hazel eyes are dark with fury, and his body is coiled tight with tension. He strides in my direction and then walks around the counter like a lion that’s about to attack. I lose my bravado then and stagger backward until my back presses against the fridge.