Necessary Cruelty: A Dark Enemies-to-Lovers Bully Romance (Lords of Deception Book 1)

by Ashley Gee

  In a spark of inspiration, I pull Sophia close with an arm around her waist. Like the response is Pavlovian, her body melts against mine.

  Zaya won’t know that Sophia isn’t in on the trick.

  Some mysterious emotion blooms in her eyes before they narrow and she lets Jake hustle her away.

  The moment Zaya is out of sight, I step away from Sophia. Zaya’s gaze is burned onto my retinas.

  What emotion flared in her eyes?

  Jealousy or disgust?

  The only way to know is to keep pushing until she snaps.

  Or breaks.

  And if I’m feeling generous, maybe I’ll put her back together again.

  Sophia tries to push her hand down the waistband of my pants and I grip her wrist harder than is strictly necessary to shove it away. She makes a mewling sound that sets my teeth on edge, but I do my best to ignore it. For now, I still need her.

  “Let’s go dance,” I suggest, not waiting for a response as I use the leverage on her wrist to pull her after me. We’re heading in the same direction Zaya and Jake just went.

  People make a point of trying to talk to me as I stride past with Sophia in tow. I ignore most of them, giving a brief smile that probably looks more like a grimace here and a nod there, but it should be obvious to anyone watching that I don’t give a shit. Each and every one of these people could disappear off the face of the planet, and I wouldn’t care.

  I’m only here for one reason.

  Zaya is dancing with Jake. The song is slow, but the arm he has at her waist is stiff and a little awkward, like he isn’t sure how much pressure to use. There is enough space between their bodies that a determined person could easily push in between them.

  Obviously, they haven’t screwed yet.

  The sense of relief I feel just annoys me even more.

  Swinging Sophia into my arms like a rag doll, I glide us close enough that Zaya would have to be blindfolded not to notice us coming closer.

  Hopefully, selective mutism doesn’t go along with selective blindness. I stole her voice, not her goddamn eyes.

  Zaya makes a point of ignoring me, going as far as turning her head away when I get close. But I’m too attuned to her to miss the tension that tightens her shoulders and raises the little hairs on her arms. She is as aware of me as she always is.

  I know, because I’m just as aware of her.

  The music changes as the band picks up speed for a faster song. I watch the way Zaya moves out of the corner of my eye, her body swaying with the beat in a way that is unlike any other girl here.

  I tell myself I’m watching her for a sign of weakness, some hint that it’s finally time to move in for the kill. But I try and fail to tear my gaze away.

  “What’s with you?” Sophia bites out in annoyance as she follows my gaze. “I thought you were here with me.”

  I swing her around, the movement fast enough that she stumbles and ends up facing away from where Zaya and Jake are dancing. “Shut up.”

  I’m not surprised when she clamps her mouth shut, but just a little disappointed. Sophia has never been a challenge. If I say jump, she’ll already be in the air when she asks how high. I could tell her to suck my dick right now, and she probably wouldn’t hesitate, even with most of the town here for the show.

  It’s boring. This has always been boring, but that bothers me more now than it ever has.

  Maybe the problem is that everyone always assumes Sophia and I will end up together, including her. People treat us like a foregone conclusion, as if I don’t have any real choice in the matter. She thinks I don’t know that she warns other girls away from me and writes my name all over her notebooks like a lovesick idiot.

  I don’t do anything because I’ve never cared enough to address it.

  Maybe I saw ending up with her as a necessary eventuality, too. It wouldn’t be a terrible match, all things considered. Her family is wealthy and well-placed. She might be a vapid and vindictive idiot, but that describes most people in this town. And she isn’t too terrible to look at if you’re into that hair bleach seeping into the brain look.

  But I’d never made us official, and not just because I was putting it off. I keep Sophia hanging on the hook because she makes things easy, but I’ve never really wanted her.

  At least, not in any way that matters.

  Whatever I feel for Zaya is too complicated to dwell on for long stretches of time. I like to focus on the simple parts. She owes me a debt, and I own her ass until it’s paid.

  But now the bitch is standing in between me and my damn inheritance.

  Remembering that infuriating little fact makes me want to stride across the ballroom and wrap my hands around her throat. But I don’t have to worry about that urge. When I glare over Sophia’s shoulder, there is only an empty space on the dance floor where Zaya and Jake had been.

  They’re both gone.

  Eighteen

  “This house is ridiculous. Why does one family need all this space?”

  Jake shakes his head in disbelief as we walk down a deserted upstairs hallway, his question obviously rhetorical. He stops at an impressive portrait of some Cortland ancestor from a hundred years ago that stares imperiously down at us from the wall. “My dad makes good money, but this is something else. How rich are these people?”

  I shrug in answer. Not just because of the cone of silence, but I also don’t have an answer to his question. I’ve wondered, myself, just how much the Cortlands are actually worth. Grandpa used to say they were all cheats and fakes, but I don’t know how much of that was the dementia talking.

  Regardless, the Cortlands have ruled like kings on the mountain since our town was founded. It really doesn’t matter how much money is actually in the bank when no one ever denies them anything.

  Jake turns a corner, but I don’t immediately follow him. I recognize this part of the house. We’re about to enter the wing where the family has their bedrooms.

  We definitely shouldn’t be here.

  It was one thing when Jake asked if I wanted to find some place quiet. Maybe I even hoped he wanted to make out a little. But I don’t have any interest in snooping around Cortland Manor when I would never live it down if we were caught.

  I’ve seen enough of this house to last a lifetime.

  Jake turns back to me with a question in his eyes. I shake my head and gesture in the direction we just came, back to the party.

  His smile teases me. “Aren’t you even a little bit curious?”

  I just shake my head again, more resolutely this time.

  But Jake doesn’t take the hint. Or if he does, he makes a conscious decision to ignore it. Grabbing my wrist, he pulls me down the hallway. “Just a few more minutes. I want to see as much of this freakshow as I can while we have the chance. Don’t worry, I’ll take the blame if someone catches us.”

  I don’t actually want to go back to the party, not with Vin staring daggers at me whenever our gazes meet. We can’t leave this early without some sort of explanation to Jake. At least hiding out like this, I won’t have to deal with anyone but him.

  Against my better judgment, I let Jake guide me down the hallway and toward a familiar set of rooms. I’m surprised we were able to get this far past the roaming staff and into a part of the house I know is supposed to be very off limits. The staff assigned to keep everyone corralled probably assumed nobody would be stupid enough to duck under the Do Not Enter! sign. No one in this town would dare sneak around Cortland Manor during the Founder’s Ball and risk never being invited onto the property again.

  I think that might be what I like most about Jake. He doesn’t care about breaking the rigid and unspoken set of rules that the rest of us are forced to live by, because he doesn’t have any idea how important they are. As soon as he does, I’ll probably never see him again, so I should appreciate his ignorance while I can.

  I still haven’t quite figured out what Jake wants from me.

  He can’t be putting up with a
ll this — the muteness, the threats from Vin, the general unpleasantness — because I’m the most interesting girl at Deception High. If anything, the opposite of true. My silence practically makes me a blank slate — people fill in my margins with whatever colors they want. I don’t need to have low self-esteem to know that nothing about me is worth all this hassle, not when we’ve only just met.

  Maybe he just likes the idea of getting under Vin’s skin.

  It was impossible not to notice Vin’s death glare when we walked into the house together. The grand entrance I hoped to make into the Founder’s Ball had been curtailed by just how long it had taken to tame my hair. I never straighten it, but tonight I did my best to turn the kinky curls into something approaching sleek. The entire time I was picturing Sophia’s perfectly styled waves and wishing that hair transplants were a real thing. Jake’s appreciative reaction when I finally came downstairs made me happy I’d made the herculean effort.

  I want to feel fabulous and strong, that is the only defense I have left against Vin.

  He asked me to fucking marry him.

  I still can’t shake the feeling I’ll wake up and realize the last few days never happened, just feverish imaginings from the strangest dream I’ve ever had. Last night was the first time I didn’t wake up to the sound of my house creaking from rotten wood. There was enough food in the house that it actually tempted Zion to stay in for the night instead of running around the streets. I hate that money is my greatest weakness, but I can’t ignore that it wouldn’t take much to completely change my life.

  It just can’t come from him.

  Saying yes isn’t an option.

  Vin has spent his entire life getting everything he wants without needing to lift a finger. I refuse to add myself to the long list of his personal possessions.

  No matter what he might be offering.

  “I wonder what’s in here?” Jake murmurs as he pushes open a door that creaks on its hinges.

  Too many years have passed, which is my only excuse. I spent more time in the gardens and grounds of Cortland Manor, rarely coming inside. The layout is vaguely familiar, but I didn’t realize just how far we’ve ventured from the ballroom.

  A blast of frigidly cold air blows over my skin as the door swings open, like opening a freezer door in the summer. The manor is always cold, but I don’t understand how anyone can stand this. Giselle keeps the air-conditioning running pretty much every day of the year. She told my mother once that sweating prematurely ages the skin.

  “This place is like the Addam’s Family mansion, I swear.” Jake rustles one of the sheets that cover all the furniture, even the bed. “I bet there are a dozen bedrooms in this place that nobody even uses.”

  A strange note has entered Jake’s voice, as if he finds something personally insulting about this house. I want to ask him about the disgust in his tone. We’re alone, and Vin would never know.

  But I decide I don’t want to know the answer.

  “What do we have here?”

  It’s only when Jake pushes a rusted metal wheelchair out of the shadows that I realize our mistake. This isn’t some random guest room.

  This is Vin’s old bedroom, the one he slept in as a child because it’s located on the first floor.

  We have to get out of here.

  I yank at Jake’s arm, but he ignores me and pulls the wheelchair further out into the light. Dried leaves and petals are stuck in the spokes, crumbling to bits at our feet as the wheels turn.

  That wheelchair is a relic from another life. Vin would kill us both if he found us here with it. Memories are long in a town like this, but they don’t beat carefully cultivated lies. Few people know that Vin didn’t spend his elementary years away at boarding school, but closed up inside Cortland Manor like the beast from a fairytale. No pictures exist from that time in his life, at least none I’ve ever seen.

  He erased those years so completely that it’s as if they never existed.

  There is no telling what he might do to keep the past hidden.

  “This is creepy as hell,” Jake says with a wide grin. “You think some old relative died in here, or something?”

  I loop my arm through his again and try to lead him back toward the door, but he resists. He turns to face me with a wide smile on his face. “Even with the creepy aesthetics, I’m glad we finally have the chance to be alone.”

  Maybe it’s that my only other significant interaction with the opposite sex has been with a sociopath, but it hadn’t occurred to me that there was an ulterior motive to Jake’s invitation to get some air.

  I’ve gone off alone with a boy that I barely know.

  I was so concerned with Vin, I didn’t stop to think that I might be throwing myself out of the frying pan and into an open flame.

  So stupid.

  Jake stares down at me with an eager smile and expectation in his gaze. If he was a bad guy, there had been plenty of opportunity for him to prove it before now. But a shiver of awareness runs down my spine as he steps closer, eating up the small amount of space separating us.

  Before I can convey to him that we should be anywhere but here right now, he bends his head and kisses me.

  It’s a nice kiss, just enough pressure and not too much tongue. Pleasant like floating on your back in the ocean on a day when the waves are calm and the sky is clear. He tastes like sunshine, salt air and all things purely good.

  But I still feel a stab of disappointment.

  Jake is barely a glowing ember next to Vin’s raging inferno.

  The kiss is good, but not even close to being the same.

  He pulls away to look down at me with that same half-smile on his face, but now uncertainty lingers in his gaze. “Are you okay?”

  “She’s probably just bored. That was about as hot as sponge-bathing your grandmother.”

  My heart stops.

  Vin steps into the dark room, his cold gaze lowering the already frigid temperature by several degrees. The door slams shut behind him, and he watches us like a fox who has cornered shivering rabbits in the grass.

  To his credit, Jake shifts to stand in front of me as if his body isn’t something Vin would tear apart to get to me. “Look, man. I don’t want a problem.”

  “You should have learned a long time ago that you don’t always get what you want.” Vin’s gaze shifts to the rusted wheelchair behind me, and his eyes narrow before flashing to my face. If looks could kill, I’d be dead and buried. “But today is your lucky day, because I’m giving you a choice. You can go out this door — alone — or I can send you out through the window.”

  Jake’s shoulders tense. “And Zaya?”

  “She’ll be going out the window right behind you.”

  I want to believe he isn’t serious. But staring into his eyes, I don’t see anything aside from dark intent. My lips burn with awareness as his gaze lingers there with hyper-focused attention, a manic twist to his lips.

  In a mood like this, Vin is capable of anything.

  “You can’t just go around threatening people,” Jake insists, even as his weight shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “Just let it go, and we can forget about all this.”

  Vin tilts his head to the side, regarding the other guy like a particularly interesting specimen under a microscope. His gaze flicks up and down, assessing even as his body coils with tension like a snake about to strike. “You can’t go around playing with other people’s toys and think something won’t get broken.”

  I want to tell Jake that he should leave. I also want to beg him to stay as if he might actually be able to save me from whatever Vin is planning to do. But I don’t say anything at all, because even now I allow Vin to make the rules of this game we’ve been playing since we were kids.

  My hands push at Jake’s back, urging him toward the door. He spins to face me with surprise and what almost looks like betrayal in his eyes.

  “You want me to leave you with him?” he asks, voice incredulous.

&nbs
p; “Maybe not too stupid to live, after all,” Vin murmurs with a sardonic smile. “Run along and leave a girl to fight your battles for you, just like last time. You’ll cover more ground if you split up.”

  Because my life is a horror movie, right?

  Jake sucks in his breath, obviously preparing to say something scathing. I just shake my head furiously, trying to tell Jake without words that this isn’t his fight. Even if it were, it’s not one he can win. Perversely, I hope he fights me on it. I want him to insist on rescuing me, promise to take me away from this awful place even though you can’t run from what is inside you.

  Just because I refuse to be a damsel-in-distress, doesn’t mean I don’t wish there was someone willing to be my knight-in-shining-armor.

  But I can’t expect that from Jake, who rode into town in a late-model luxury sedan and not a white horse. His gaze searches mine, looking for something he obviously doesn’t find. Anger twists his features before he turns away and strides toward the door.

  “You two deserve each other.”

  I wince as the door slams shut behind him.

  Vin has the nerve to smirk at me. “My, people do come and go quickly here.”

  My heart skips more than a few beats as I glare at him. Silence be damned. Clearly, all of the rules have changed.

  “What the hell do you want?”

  “You mean, aside from world peace?”

  “Aside from torturing me. Aside from making my life a living hell. What. Do. You. Want. Vin?”

  He pushes off the wall and takes a step closer to me. I fight the urge to back away, even as every fiber of my being urges me to run. Everybody knows if you run from a predator, it won’t be able to stop itself from chasing you.

  “You seem on edge. Must be the sexual frustration. From the looks of it, Jakey-boy has a hard time getting the job done. He seems like the type to ask is this okay about a dozen times before he even gets inside of you.”

  God, he is gross. The satisfied smirk he makes says he thinks a few talents in the bedroom make up for the shittiest personality that has ever existed.

  “There isn’t anything wrong with affirmative consent,” I snap, wishing I could wipe that mocking smile off his face. Now that the floodgates are open, I feel almost a decade of things left unsaid welling up in me like a rising tide. The people at school call me weak, but they have no idea I’ve just been biding my fucking time. “Although, you are the kind of guy that the #Metoo crowd practically salivates over. Fast forward a few years from now, and you’ll be wondering why nobody cares about your side of the story when all your former secretaries start coming forward.”