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

by Ashley Gee

  Platforms tapping against the pavement, Sophia tottles around to the passenger door. “I’ll tell you all about it on the way to school.”

  I unlock the doors, not bothering to clear off the pile of workout clothes and other crap covering the seat so she is forced to do it herself. Once she has the door closed, I peel out of the driveway without waiting for her to get settled or buckle her seatbelt.

  Sophia lowers the visor and checks her makeup in the mirror then fluffs her hair. When she pulls a tube of lip gloss out of her bag, I lose my patience.

  “Spit it out.”

  She purses her lips at her own reflection. “Do you think this cherry color works with my outfit? Maybe I should put on something with more pink in it.”

  “I honestly do not give even one individual shit. You have exactly five seconds before I get annoyed.”

  “God, you can be so mean.” But she says that like it’s a funny joke, gently slapping my arm. “Patience is a virtue, Vin.”

  I hate girls who hit. Let me raise my hands to them and see if they call it flirting. “If you want mean, I can shove you out at the next stoplight. Bet it would be fun to walk the rest of the way in those heels.”

  Sophia laughs, as if I’m not deadly serious. “You can be so silly sometimes.”

  It’s almost refreshing how much she’ll put up with to get close to me. I have no illusions she wants me for anything more than the power and position she thinks being attached to a Cortland will bring her. But the fact that she puts every ounce of pride she has aside in the pursuit always surprises me a little.

  If only Zaya were this transparent. That would make my life a hell of a lot easier.

  “Tell me what happened in the Gulch.”

  “I knew that would get your attention.” She snaps the visor shut. “Someday, you’re going to have to explain to me why you like messing with Zaya Milbourne so much.”

  My fingers tighten on the steering wheel. “Except, I don’t.”

  A calculating look enters her gaze. “If you won’t be sweet to me, then I won’t tell you anything.”

  Sophia will see how easy it is to talk when I have both hands wrapped around her throat. I decide to change tactics, because she responds to threats by getting pouty. Flattery will get you everywhere with her.

  “You looked gorgeous at the Founder’s Ball, by the way. Was that a new dress?” I ask through grinding teeth.

  “Oh my God, you noticed! It was an Alaïa that I got at the Neiman’s in Newport Beach. I had to buy three different dresses because you were being so ridiculous and wouldn’t just tell me what color you’d be wearing so we could match.”

  Sophia playfully slaps my arm again, and I resist the urge to grab her wrist and snap it in half.

  “Well, you looked great.” I wait for the insincere compliment to widen her smile. Her general air of smugness is something I hate at the best of times, but sometimes you just do what you have to do. “Now tell me what happened in the Gulch.”

  Taking a deep breath, like a performer about to reveal their greatest trick, Sophia leans closer. “I heard that like at least a dozen of the Gulch’s usual suspects got scooped up by the taskforce. The cops got them all on RICO charges.”

  I glance at her, confused. “On what?”

  “RICO.” At my still blank look, she just shakes her head. “They use it to take down big mafia guys and drug kingpins. If someone is part of a criminal organization, like a gang, then you can charge everyone with the same thing even if they weren’t directly involved. One guy gets caught selling drugs, and everyone can go down.”

  I forget that her father is the Chief of Police. The dinner table small talk at their house probably gets real interesting. Maybe it’s because Sophia doesn’t seem like a real person to me, I find it difficult to remember that she is slightly more than the girl who will give me a blowjob whenever convenient. But let’s be honest, she acts like that’s all she wants to be.

  But I don’t actually care about any of this true crime shit.

  “What does that have to do with Zaya?”

  “Well, her brother is a little budding hoodlum, right? From what I heard, he got picked up with a bunch of other people. I have no idea what he actually did, but right now he is facing the same charges. Serious ones.”

  “Zion got arrested?”

  “That’s what I just said.” She pops a piece of gum into her mouth. “It was bound to happen eventually. Trash is as trash does.”

  It doesn’t sit quite right with me that she calls him that, although I’m not sure why I care. If Zion is trash, then by extension the rest of his family is, too. Trash is one of the nicer words people use when talking about the poor souls dying slow deaths in the Gulch. Usually it doesn’t bother me, but for some reason today is different.

  “Not everyone gets to be born with a silver spoon shoved up their ass.”

  Her laugh is derisive. “You’re one to talk. Vin Cortland has never wanted for anything a single day in his life. It’s one of your best qualities.”

  The whole Cortland empire is about to go up in flames. Perversely, I want to tell her that I’m a year from being broke just to see how she might react. She would probably dive out of the car while it was still moving to get away as fast as possible.

  “So your dad says Zion is pretty screwed?” I ask instead.

  “Not in so many words, I guess.” She has her phone out and starts texting, her interest in this topic already waning. “But unless the Milbournes have a fairy godmother I don’t know about, I’d say yes.”

  Someone with a functional soul would feel sympathy for the guy rotting in a jail cell and his desperate family, but all I can think about is how to take advantage of the situation. I’m not the one who put him there, but ignoring this would be colossally stupid. Her family is the only leverage that has ever worked on Zaya, and I’m not about to kick a gift horse in the teeth.

  I might not be a fairy godmother, but Zaya is about to find out I’m the only one who can wave a magic wand over the steaming shitpile of her life.

  Twenty-One

  Stress makes me oversleep, and I miss the school bus. Even with the three city bus transfers it takes to get to school, I make it right before the tardy bell rings.

  Just in time to see Vin’s shiny red Maserati peel into the parking lot with a giggling Sophia in the passenger seat.

  It’s pathetic that he thinks seeing her with him will make me jealous.

  And even more pathetic that I feel a little bit jealous, even if I’d never admit it.

  I don’t want Vin Cortland.

  If I say it enough times, that just might make it true.

  But right now, I really need to talk to him. I refuse to believe that my brother’s arrest is just some perfectly-timed coincidence. Vin must have something to do with it. He is going to fix this before I set him on fire.

  Talking to him or anyone else while at school is strictly against the rules. That isn’t what stops me. When Sophia gets out of the car, long legs wide open despite the fact that her skirt barely covers her upper thighs, she runs around the car to wrap her arms around Vin’s waist.

  I want to punch them both in the throat.

  Turning away, I don’t bother to wait and see if he returns the embrace or pushes Sophia away. Apparently, the guy who is known for never engaging in public displays of affection has conveniently decided to change his ways. Outside of the infamous parties he throws at his pool house, Vin Cortland doesn’t do hugs and kisses. And even that is just him getting blowjobs from random girls while his friends play video games and drink.

  But I don’t care about any of that.

  No, it isn’t jealousy that makes me turn away, but the fact that I need to wait until Vin is alone. Sophia doesn’t have any place in my business. She gossips like she gets paid for it and is perpetually short on cash.

  I slam open the double doors, and the sound is loud enough to echo off the concrete walls. A handful of students milling in the hall
way look to see who is making all the commotion. But when they realize it’s me, all of them immediately turn away.

  The forced isolation doesn’t usually get to me, because I’m so used to it. But today, the cone of silence is just one more shitty thing I can lay at Vin’s doorstep. He has spent the last four years doing his best to ruin my life, and so far he has been an unparalleled success.

  By lunchtime, my anger has built into a raging inferno that won’t be eased by anything less dramatic than seeing Vin’s head mounted on a spike.

  I want to rip his face off with my bare hands and dance in the blood spray.

  He isn’t hard to find.

  Lunch finds him sitting at his usual table with his band of cronies and Sophia hugged up to his side. At this point, I don’t even care that we practically have the entire school as witnesses.

  Marching up to the table, I slam a sheet of paper down in front of him. The message on it is written in block letters with a permanent marker.

  WE NEED TO TALK!

  There are murmurs from students sitting at nearby tables, but hushed because nobody wants to miss whatever is coming next. I’ve just thrown a proverbial gauntlet at Vin’s forehead, and he is not the type to lose face by turning down a challenge.

  He glances down at the paper and then back up at me. “Can’t you see I’m eating?”

  Someone laughs as I glare down at him, but I ignore it. If he expects me to be the old familiar Zaya who weakly submits, then he has another thing coming.

  If getting my brother arrested doesn’t violate our fucking deal, then I don’t know what does.

  I snatch the lunch bag that rests on the table in front of him. Ignoring the gasps of shock from the peanut gallery, I march to the nearest trash can and slam it inside.

  Returning to the table, I tap the note with my finger before crossing my arms over my chest and glaring down into his face.

  Your move, asshole.

  If the loss of his lunch bothers him, Vin doesn’t show it. With a smirk, he shoves the paper away so it skitters across the table towards me and hits the floor. “Leave a message for my secretary. She’ll pencil you in sometime next month.”

  Silently, I shove between Iain and Elliot, who surprise me by moving over to make room. Once seated, I lean forward so my elbows rest on the table and I tap the part of my wrist where a watch would be if I could afford one.

  I hope the message is clear: I’ll wait.

  Whatever game Vin wants to play obviously involves pretending I’m not sitting directly across from him.

  “Anybody catch the game last night? I swear the Dodgers are doing this on purpose just to hurt me.”

  Elliot takes a bite of his apple. “Don’t forget you owe me fifty bucks. A bet is a bet, even if the game is fixed.”

  They fall into some indecipherable conversation about baseball that I don’t even try to follow. But even as he shoots the shit with his friends, Vin doesn’t take his gaze off my face.

  One of us is waiting for the other to break.

  Like always, Sophia can’t keep her stupid mouth shut. “Since when do we let any old trash sit with us at lunch?”

  My hands curl into fists on the table as the anger that has been simmering all day finally boils over. It isn’t enough that I live in the gutter while she enjoys entirely unearned luxury, but she has to rub salt in my wounds every chance she gets.

  Iain doesn’t look up from the game system in his lap. “You’re here.”

  If Sophia understands that was a dig, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she leans across the table towards me. Vin’s attention must have her emboldened enough that she speaks directly to me this time. “All the other hood rats are over there.”

  It doesn’t even matter that she wouldn’t know a hood rat if one stabbed her in the face. Or that most people in the Gulch are honest, hard-working, and just trying to keep food on their tables.

  I’ve had exactly enough of her mouth.

  Launching myself up, I nearly fly around the table. Sophia’s blond curls are in my hands and I slam her on the ground before anyone can stop me. Like a pussy, she goes for my face with fingers that are bent like claws. I duck my head and bring my fist up hard into her chin, feeling a satisfying crunch even as pain explodes in my knuckles.

  Her nails scratch at my face. I bat them away with one hand while the other punches her again, this time in the nose that everyone knows she had done the summer before freshman year.

  There is a satisfying spray of blood as her nose bursts like a ripe tomato.

  Sophia screeches like a wounded cat, and then someone is pulling me off her. I don’t need to look to know it’s Vin —no one else would dare put their hands on me just to break up a fight.

  I kick out behind me in the hopes he’ll let me go, hitting something soft. He grunts in pain, but doesn’t release me. He has me completely off my feet with one hand wrapped around my waist and the other keeping my pinwheeling arms at bay.

  Vin drags me out of the cafeteria to the sound of Sophia screaming that I’m going to be sorry if her face doesn’t heal right.

  Like that bitch needs another excuse to hit up a plastic surgeon.

  Metal doors crash open, and then we’re outside the school building. He doesn’t put me down until we’ve crossed the parking lot and stop beside his Maserati.

  “Get in,” he snaps.

  I spit at him. “Fuck you.”

  “Your mood is a bit violent for my tastes. Maybe later.”

  Opening the driver’s side door, he forces me inside and easily dodges when I try to kick him in the crotch. I’m not playing games here — if I get half the chance, then I just might try to actually kill him. The gear shift pokes painfully into my hip as I tumble backward across the seats. Vin keeps shoving only until he has enough room to climb in behind me.

  By the time I make it to the other side and reach for the passenger door, the car is already screeching backward out of the parking space.

  “What are you doing?” I screech, reaching for the seatbelt as he takes the turn out of the school parking lot at breakneck speed.

  “You wanted to talk, so talk.”

  “Here?”

  “I figured you won’t try to kill me if we’re doing eighty down the highway, unless you’re hoping to die with me.”

  Until today, I wouldn’t have considered myself a particularly violent person. But beating the absolute shit out of him sounds like heaven right now. “God forbid, you just talk to me when I asked you, like a normal person. I’m sure Sophia is already sobbing in Principal Schneider’s office. Thanks for getting me suspended.”

  He has the nerve to laugh. “If it comes to that, then you got yourself suspended. Nobody told you to give her a lesson in proper form for a basic uppercut. You’ll have to tell me where you learned that someday.”

  The Gulch isn’t exactly a safe place for a girl who spends all of her time alone. You learn what you need to learn.

  “I’m not telling you shit.”

  “Except the reason you were stomping around the cafeteria like Godzilla and threw my lunch away. An explanation would be welcome anytime now, by the way.”

  That move in the cafeteria was supposed to make him angry, but he seems more amused than anything. Changing moods more frequently than underwear is just another way he likes to mess with me so I never know what to expect.

  But the fight has drained me, and I suddenly don’t have the energy to go back and forth with him.

  “Did you have my brother arrested?”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Why would I do that?”

  “To blackmail me into marrying you,” I snap, glaring at his profile. Even when I’m furious, it’s hard not to notice that he looks like a Greek statue. “Because you’re the kind of asshole who doesn’t feel guilty about fucking with people’s lives, and you know my brother is one of the few ways you can get to me.”

  “I’m flattered that you think I have that much control over police resources.” Vin
glances at me, his smile mocking. “Of course, if I did have something to do with it, coming at me like that might not be the best way to ask for help.”

  I glare at his profile, starkly illuminated by the midday sun. He looks like a fallen angel, come down to earth to wreak havoc on susceptible mortals.

  “That isn’t a no.”

  “Would you believe me if I said no?”

  “Maybe.”

  “That isn’t a yes.”

  I just shake my head, because I don’t ever believe a single word that comes out of his mouth. “Are you going to help me get him out of trouble?”

  “Is this the part where I ask what’s in it for me?”

  “Stop playing with me.” My hand slams down on the dashboard, and I ignore the aching stab of pain in my palm. “Everything isn’t a game.”

  “Oh, it is a game.” He turns in the seat to look at me, ignoring the road as he stares me down. “And both of us are going to play. It’s your move, by the way.”

  I look nervously out the windshield at the empty road ahead of us as he continues to watch me. “Will you help me?”

  “Will you marry me?”

  A romantic proposal if I ever heard one.

  “You seemed pretty happy with Sophia.” The words don’t sound jealous in my head. But judging from the smirk on his face, they come out more strident than I intended. “Not that I care what you do with your dirty dick.”

  Vin opens his mouth to say something, probably along the lines of reminding me what I’ve let him do with the dick in question, but he shuts it again. He seems to consider his words for the barest moment.

  “I wouldn’t marry Sophia if she were the last woman on earth.”

  I know there are any number things he isn’t telling me, but that at least sounds like the truth. “But you want to marry me?”

  “Out of the currently available options, sure.” He hesitates, but then shrugs. “But this is Deception, so that isn’t really saying much.”

  “How romantic.”

  “This isn’t about romance. It’s a business transaction.”