I know my little charade won’t change anything, but it will throw a wrench in the works, and I’m reacting predictably and naturally, which is most important. Neo doesn’t look ruffled in the slightest, because he knows he’ll talk her around, but I hope she gives him hell for at least a few days.
“You can’t expect me to live with them.” I pout, crossing my arms. “Not after they filmed me without my permission and shared the content online.”
“Did you know about this?” Mom asks Neo, glaring at the boys she was so warmly welcoming a few minutes ago.
“They’re teenage boys.” Neo shrugs, yanking her into his side and flattening his palm against her ass.
My mouth curls up at the corner, and I want to rip him apart every time he touches her.
Living here with all of them will be a true test of self-control and patience. It’s a test I intend to ace, so I relax my features and remind myself they are all getting what is coming to them in time. “I’m sure you remember what we got up to when we were their age?”
“So, you and my mom had group sex with other Sainthood members, and you recorded it without her permission and then shared it with the world?” I plant my hands on my hips as I challenge him.
“No, but we were like rabid bunnies, fucking any chance we got.”
Ugh. That so backfired. “You’re disgusting.”
He smirks. “We’re all adults here, and you seem sexually promiscuous, so I think we can all agree you are overreacting. My boys made you a star. You should be thanking them. I bet you have dudes lining up to pound your cunt since the footage aired.”
My nostrils flare, and anger boils my blood at his disgusting slur.
Mom pushes Neo away, hurt flaring in her eyes. “Neo,” she gasps. “That is completely inappropriate as well as being untrue. Your boys betrayed her trust, and you shouldn’t condone that behavior.” She glowers at all of them, and I silently champion her. “You owe my daughter an apology.” She prods her finger in the air, moving it around them. “All of you.”
“We’ve already explained ourselves to Harlow, Mrs. Westbrook,” Saint says, looking like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “We weren’t aware Galen’s mom had cameras in that room, and we weren’t the ones who shared it online. We were just as upset as she was when the tape aired.”
“Bullshit.”
“Are you accusing my son of lying, Harlow?” Neo asks, pinning me with a cautionary look.
I maintain eye contact with him, refusing to show fear.
“Because taking such a line would upset me greatly,” he continues, “and I’m sure you don’t want to do that.” The underlying meaning is crystal clear, and fun time is over. “You’re going to be my daughter. You and Saint will be stepsister and stepbrother, and I’m sure none of us want to get off on the wrong footing.”
Mom glances between both of us, conflicting emotions raging in her eyes.
“I apologize if my comment offended you. I merely meant you seem sexually confident,” he says, and he might be fooling Mom, but he’s not fooling me.
“It’s fine, and you’re right,” I lie, smiling sweetly. “What’s in the past should remain in the past. This is a clean slate.” I extend my hand to Saint, watching as he examines me closely, his gaze drilling holes in my brain as he attempts to extract the truth. “Welcome, brother. I hope you’ll be very happy here.”
_______________
“So that’s why they claimed you,” Sariah says the following night as we sit side by side in the old abandoned warehouse, drinking warm beer from bottles while we watch the largely inebriated crowd jump around the makeshift dance floor.
This party is in the rougher part of Lowell, a scene I usually avoid. It’s especially risky attending, because The Arrows are known to frequent these parties, but I couldn’t stomach bumping into the Saints at Beth McCoy’s bash. Beth is Parker’s bestie, and she’s throwing a party in the woods behind Lowell High to try to salvage relations between Finn and The Sainthood. But she’s an idiot because Finn made his bed, and now, he must lie in it. He should have taken Saint’s offer and at least held on to his dignity.
Now Saint will go out of his way to humiliate and shun Finn.
At least, it might deflect some of the heat off me.
School next week should be fun.
“Yep,” I lie, because I know Saint hasn’t claimed me because I’m to become his new stepsister. But it’s handy to have a reason the public at large will accept.
“Has your mom lost her mind?” she asks, as I rip pieces of the label off my beer bottle.
“I never would’ve thought Mom would shack up with a degenerate like Neo Lennox, but I clearly don’t know her as well as I think.”
“I can’t believe she’s letting them live in the same house as you after they pulled that shit.” She shakes her head, leaning back against Sean as he comes up behind her.
“I’m choosing to focus on the positives.” I smile as Emmett climbs up on the old dresser beside me.
“Which is?” he inquires, clinking his bottle against mine.
“I can murder them all in their beds and claim it was a home invasion.”
We all laugh, but I’m only half-joking. The thought has crossed my mind.
The other thought that’s crossed my mind is that I need to come clean to Sariah. At least about some of it. Her association with me places her in danger, and I can’t make that decision for her. She needs to know enough to make her own choice. But I’m terrified of that conversation because she might choose to walk away. And then, I’ll truly be all alone.
The next hour passes pleasantly, and the more I drink, the more I relax. Emmett has only left my side to grab more beers and I’m enjoying talking with him. Sariah and Sean are dry humping one another on the dance floor, and I can’t help smiling. If anyone deserves to be happy and in love, it’s my bestie.
“You want that?” Emmett asks, tilting his bottle at the dance floor, in the direction of our friends.
“Someday, sure. Doesn’t everyone?”
He nods. “I know I do.”
“How is it Lowell High has two atypical jocks? You and Sean have got to be blowing some stats to smithereens somewhere.”
He chuckles. “Not every guy on the team is a manwhore douche. There are plenty who are in it for the sport and the camaraderie. You must be reading a lot of the same books as my sister. The ones that paint jocks as man sluts. Don’t believe everything you read.”
“This is your sister who’s ill?” I ask, remembering what Theo had said that day.
He nods, his expression turning serious. “She has leukemia, and she’s been in this experimental trial the past four months, which is delivering results. We’re hopeful she’ll pull through.”
I touch his arm. “I’m glad to hear that, and I hope she does.”
He moves a little closer, staring at me, and we share a moment. “She’s the only reason I’m not making a move on you right now.” Apology shines in his eyes.
“You don’t need to explain or apologize. I’m glad you’re taking the threat seriously because those assholes don’t mess around. I’d hate anything to happen to you or your sister because of me.” I bring the bottle to my lips, taking a long swig. “Besides, I’m not in the market for a boyfriend, and I’m not planning on sticking around long after graduation. Your energy would be wasted on me.”
“I disagree, but I’m not one to dwell on something for long. I hate those bastards, but I refuse to spend any time thinking about them. And they never said we couldn’t be friends, right?”
I nudge his shoulder, smiling. “They didn’t. And I don’t have many friends. I’d be honored to call you that. You’re a good guy, Emmett, but I should probably elaborate on a few things before you make a friendship commitment. I need to speak to Sean and Sariah too, so let’s grab dinner at the diner next week, and I’ll fill you in.”
“It’s a date.”
I shoulder check him, rolling my eyes. “Betwe
en friends.”
“Aw, look at you,” a voice from my past says, dragging my gaze from Emmett’s. “Always scouting new fuck buddies.”
I fold my arms and level a dark glare at Darrow. “What do you want, Dar?”
“I heard your mom is engaged to that fucktard Lennox. That true?”
I’ve nothing to gain by denying something that will be common knowledge once the official engagement party takes place tomorrow night. “Unfortunately, yes,” I admit, sipping my beer as I eye my ex, wondering where he’s going with this.
“And those assholes are living with you now?” His eyes burn with naked hatred, but I can’t tell if it’s directed at me or the Saints.
“Same response,” I drawl, eyeballing him.
“You still fucking them?”
I snort. “You seriously have to ask that after what they did to me? What you did to me?”
“You disrespected me, Lo. What else did you expect me to do?”
I point my beer bottle at him. “You disrespected me first.”
“Tempest’s a slut. A nothing.” He shrugs. “It doesn’t even compare.”
I shake my head. Man, he’s a piece of work. “Wow. So, she’s not your current girlfriend?”
“That doesn’t change facts.” He reaches out, toying with the ends of my hair. “You know I’d dump her for you in a heartbeat.” His features soften, and it’s the closest Darrow’s ever come to showing me true emotion. “I was an idiot, Lo. I wasn’t thinking straight, because I wouldn’t have cheated on you with that slut if I had been. Don’t confuse my mistake. I still love you.”
Darrow doesn’t know the fucking meaning of that word, and what we had most definitely wasn’t love, but I’m not about to split hairs. He’s approached me for a reason, and I’d like to know why.
Emmett is listening intently to our conversation, studying my face, and I can tell by the way he’s holding himself rigidly still that he’s waiting for my cue to lay one on him. He obviously doesn’t know who Darrow is. Dar may not be in The Sainthood’s league, but you still don’t want to mess with him.
I’ve watched him gut guys for less.
“Is there a point to this nostalgia, or you’re just hoping for a sly fuck? Because that’s never happening.”
He sighs, letting go of my hair. “I know. You’ve got more class than that.” He scrubs a hand over his prickly jawline, and I spot Bryant staring at me from the corner of the room. Tempest is there with a face red enough to match her hair. “I have a proposition for you,” he says, holding up a hand when I level him with another dark look. “Not a sexual one. I think you and I could help one another.”
I jump down off the dresser, cautioning Emmett to stay put with my eyes. “I think I know where you’re going with this,” I say, looping my arm through Dar’s and peering up at him with a dreamy look on my face.
He chuckles. “You still can’t resist pushing buttons, huh, Lo?”
I beam up at him. “She fucking deserves a little payback.” My gaze flits to where Bryant is now physically restraining Tempest from coming at me. I smirk before turning my back on her. I straighten up, all hint of playfulness gone from my tone and my expression. “Let’s talk outside. See if we can’t serve our mutual interests.”
CHAPTER 8
I SCOWL AT the ceiling as the hot water beats down on my bare flesh, bracing myself for this nightmare of a party. Mom and Neo seem hellbent on a short engagement and a quick wedding, and I’m so torn over what to do.
How can I stand by and watch my mother marry that monster? Does she honestly love him? Does she truly understand what she’s getting involved in? Or is she really that naïve? Or maybe, this is the byproduct of grief?
I lather shampoo in my hair as I ponder these questions. Steam envelops me in a cloudy haze as I drag my fingers through my hair, washing the product down the drain.
There is a way to stop this—I tell her the truth of what happened four and a half years ago.
But what if she already knows? What if she’s always known? What if it doesn’t make any difference?
I never would have considered these thoughts even a week ago, but learning my mom was previously engaged to Neo “Sinner” Lennox has diminished my confidence in her. I can’t possibly know the real her if she could spend years with such a disgusting human. She must know the things he’s done. The shit he’s involved in.
So why would confirming it change anything except showing my hand?
I can’t interfere.
I’ve got to let this play out.
At least, for now.
I rest my head against the tile wall, closing my eyes and wishing Dad was still here. Even if only as the voice of wisdom in my head, because I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with this.
Hot water rolls down my spine as I contemplate my options, but I’m no closer to an answer as I switch off the shower and step out.
A muscular arm covered in tats darts out, offering me a towel, and I scream as adrenaline floods my system and my body reacts automatically to the perceived threat.
Saint chuckles, stepping forward, his hungry eyes drinking me in as he shamelessly ogles every inch of my bare skin. “Get the fuck away from me.” I grab the towel and shove past him, charging into my bedroom with water dripping all over the floor.
I slam to a halt as three sets of male eyes flit to my naked form.
Whatever. It’s not like they haven’t seen me naked before.
Taking my time, I wrap the towel around myself, tucking it securely under my arms as I glare at Caz, Galen, and Theo. The latter is sitting on the edge of my bed, tapping away on a tablet while Caz is rooting through my bedside table, and Galen is—
“Give me that!” I march toward him, grabbing the new dress Mom bought for me to wear to her engagement party from his large hands. Water trickles from my sodden hair all over the hardwood floor, and my damp fingertips leave small wet patches on the black gown. I hold it up in front of me, grinding my teeth to the molars. “What the fuck did you do to my dress?” I give Galen the evil eye.
He lights up a cigarette. “Made some improvements. You like?”
I inspect the torn sleeves and the angular cut in the side of the dress extending across the midriff. “It’s ruined.” He smirks, and I snatch the cigarette from his lips, stubbing it out on a plate on my dresser. Caz chuckles, while Galen looks two seconds away from ending my life. “Your lungs will thank me some day.” I push my face in his. “And after you destroyed my dress, you’re lucky I didn’t stub it out on your pretty face.”
“No need to be so dramatic,” Saint says, stepping up behind me and gripping my hips. “It’s perfectly wearable.”
“I doubt Mom wants me to look like a slut at her party.” I scowl as I watch Galen light up another cigarette.
“Unless she plans on trading her daughter in for a new model, that’s what she’s stuck with,” Galen replies, deliberately blowing smoke circles into my face. He leans in close, breathing icky smoke breath all over me, and I jerk back on instinct, pressing up against Saint’s broad chest in the process. “What you wear won’t change that fact.”
“You’re a bigger slut than me,” I say, shoving his shoulders and trying to ignore the feel of Saint’s hard-on pressing into me from behind.
He straightens up, his smirk deepening. “Jealous, angel?”
I snort. “Hardly.” My lips twitch as I prod him in the stomach. “I was the one who rejected you, remember?”
He blows more smoke in my face, and it’s irritating as fuck, but nothing can wipe the smug smile off my face. A muscle clenches in his jaw as he loses the smirk, narrowing his eyes at me. Thank fuck, my fourteen-year-old self pushed him away that day.
“We’re wasting time,” Saint says, trailing his fingers along the hem of my towel. “Dad wants us downstairs before the guests arrive.” With the way he’s toying with the towel, I know he plans on exposing me to the room again, and I refuse to give him that power.
&nb
sp; This is my bedroom, and these dicks don’t get to come in here and act like they own the place and me.
Without stopping to overthink it, I let the towel drop to the floor, standing assertively in front of them. I’m proud of my body, scars and all, and I’m not going to bow down before these jerks.
Theo tilts his head up from his tablet, his eyes locking on the scars covering my stomach and upper arms before his gaze meets mine. I flip him the bird, because fuck him for his too late pity. He looks at me with the saddest expression before lowering his head to whatever he’s doing.
“Get dressed.” Saint rubs his erection against my ass, trailing his fingers up the side of my body, brushing against the swell of my breasts. Galen stares at Saint, and some unspoken communication filters through the air, bringing Saint to his senses. He slaps me on the ass and shoves me at his cousin. Galen instantly thrusts me at Caz, scowling and rubbing his hands down the front of his jeans as if I’m diseased. But his eyes roam my body, even as he sneers, and he can’t disguise the reaction poking the crotch of his jeans.
“Get the fuck out of my room,” I demand, my hostile gaze bouncing between them.
Caz holds on to me, running his hands all over my body, as his eyes flare with need. “Nah. The view’s much better in here, and it’s fun watching you squirm.”
I dig my elbow into his ribs and wrench myself free. “Suit yourselves.” I stroll into my walk-in closet, silently talking myself off the ledge. I’m three seconds away from grabbing my gun and riddling these assholes with bullets.
I yank my undies drawer open, removing a black lace bra and panties set. Nimble fingers pull them from my hands, tossing them aside. I spin around, glaring at Saint. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“Not slutty enough,” he says, rubbing his chin as if my underwear choice is worthy of lengthy contemplation.
Pushing me aside, he rummages through my drawer, extracting a trashy red lace bra and matching crotchless panties I bought to entertain Darrow last Valentine’s Day. He thrusts them at me, his inked fingers brushing against the swell of my left breast. “Put those on.”
The Sainthood : A Dark High School Romance (The Complete Series) Page 9