by Rina Kent
Marcus laughs. “You honestly think it will just go away? It’ll always be there, man, but you just gotta ignore it. If anyone had shit on you, it would have surfaced by now. It’s been months, bro. Christ, almost a year, actually.” He sits back in his seat, cigarette dangling from his mouth, and stares at me as if daring me to argue with his impeccable logic.
“When the fuck is the pizza getting here?” I mutter.
“I dunno. How long since you ordered?”
I twist to face him. “Me? You said you’d call.”
We stare at each other for a second before bursting out laughing.
“Ah, fuck this shit,” Marcus says. “Don’t know about you, but I’m done.”
“Yeah, fuck,” I murmur, still smiling as I get to my feet. I wobble a bit, and Marcus slings his arm around my shoulder. We hold onto each other as we make our unsteady way back to the mansion, dodging rose bushes and concrete statues in the likeness of cherubs and shit.
“You ever think what it would be like to have a brother or a sister?” I ask idly.
Fuck, what was in that rum? I’m as full of feels as a chick on her period.
“Nope.”
“Never? I’d have liked a brother.”
“Younger or older?”
“Younger. Don’t need anyone lording shit over me, you know?”
Marcus lets out a huff of a laugh.
“We’d have been good brothers,” I say, flicking his ear.
“Doubt it. We’d probably have hated each other’s guts.” Marcus clears his throat. Maybe he’s feeling all emotional and shit too. I’ll have to make a note never to touch that brand of rum of again. “Plus, you can’t choose your family. It’s what makes life so much fun.” With his flat tone, I know exactly where his mind has detoured.
By the time we make it upstairs, that last inch of rum I downed is blurring the world around me. I’m distantly aware of Marcus helping me stumble to my bed, murmuring something about no fucking way he was tucking me in, bros or no, and then he’s gone.
Before sleep takes me, I swear I hear the sound of low, electronic beeps.
Beep, beep, beep, beep.
Did I lock the front door? Maybe Marcus is pinning in the key — I’m sure he knows it by now.
Fuck it — if someone breaks in, they’ll have to deal with me and Marcus. Even drunk, we’d beat them to a fucking pulp.
Chapter Ten
Indi
Marigold looks up when I come thundering down the stairs and into the dining room the next morning. She called me down for breakfast fifteen minutes ago, but I lost my appetite when I remembered the hellhole I had to attend today.
“I need clothes,” I say, shifting my hips to the side and crossing my arms over my chest. “And a longer skirt.”
“I’m afraid my budget is already allocated for this week. You’ll have to wait until the weekend.”
“But I literally have like two pairs of underwear, and one’s dirty.”
“So best you wash them,” Gran says, setting a delicate china cup down on its saucer. I scan the teak dining table and then shrug at her when I see there’s no food on it. “I thought you said there was breakfast.”
Marigold takes another tiny sip from her cup. “That was fifteen minutes ago.”
“Isn’t your job as my guardian to feed and clothe me?” I yell.
Marigold’s shoulders melt at this. In response, my chest grows tight and I take a step back before I can stop myself.
“My job as your guardian is to make sure you don’t fail school.”
Shock slams into me like a wall of ice. I try to speak, but words utterly fail me.
Marigold gives me a cold little smile. “Aren’t you running late for school? They take tardiness into account. I’m sure they won’t hesitate to adjust your grades accordingly.”
“I don’t know how Mom could stand being around you,” I say. My voice is so thick, I can barely understand myself, but Marigold doesn’t seem to have the same problem.
“Leave,” she says. “Before you say something you’ll regret.”
I laugh. “You know what I regret, Granny?”
My gran’s already pale face goes translucent. She stands, her body quivering with righteous indignation, but I carry on before she can open her raspberry red lips.
“I regret not being in that house with Mom.”
I’m surprised Marigold doesn’t have something to say about this. In fact, to my utter astonishment, a tear flashes down her cheek.
“Get out,” she whispers. “Get out of my house!” The last is a shrill yell. She charges for me, and I turn tail and run like the fucking coward that I am.
I slam the junker’s door so hard, I’m shocked it doesn’t fall off. I get to school in record time, everything en route just a blur of speed and tears.
I’m still sniffing back snot and blinking away my last tears when someone raps on my window.
Jerking, I spin to face the window. For a horrific moment, I’d thought it was Briar. The thought that he’d see me in hysterics makes me want to throw up.
But it’s Addy out there, face wrinkled with concern. She whirls her finger in the air, demanding that I roll down the window. I comply, but with bad grace.
“What?”
“Have you—?” She ducks her head to get a better look at me, and even when I tip my head down she just follows. “Why are you crying?”
“None of your business,” I snap.
“Yeah?” Her voice is as edgy as mine. “That’s what you think.” She shoves her hand through the window.
Pure instinct has me grabbing her wrist. She squeals, and tugs back at her hand, but I’m holding her tight.
Then I see the joint between her fingers.
It glitters.
It’s gold.
I’m so very, very confused.
“Now you gonna let me in, or what?” Addy asks. When I look at her, she rolls her eyes. “It’s edible gold,” she mutters, before stalking around the front of the car.
I lean across and open the other door. Addy gets in with a sigh, smelling of weed and perfume, and immediately lights up the joint.
“Edible gold?” I ask, when she hands the joint over to me.
“Looks gorgeous. Tastes like shit.” She glances across at me, and smiles as she blows out a plume of smoke.
Yeah, the paper tastes like shit, but the weed inside? Oh my fucking god.
“What is this?” I ask in a tight voice, keeping as much of that dank deliciousness inside my lungs as possible.
“Happiness,” she says flippantly.
“I mean, what strain?”
She shrugs. “The guy I get this from don’t grow strains. They just give you weed that will make you feel a certain way.” She smiles around the gold joint, and then points to it with a long nail. “Happiness.”
For a second — a brief, intangible moment — I wonder what it would be like to be her. I mean, I wasn’t always a slob — I used to wear makeup and brush my hair and wear pretty underwear and get dressed up to go out. But that all seems so fucking pointless these days.
“Jesus, smoke more,” Addy says, widening her eyes at me. “I swear you’re oozing sad emojis from every pore.”
I laugh, and then I cough. My dark thoughts disappear in a haze of artificial happiness.
Briar
“Dude, we’re gonna be late. Briar. Briar!”
I groan, shoving the hand off my shoulder. When I open my eyes, it’s no more than a slit. “Fuck,” I groan up at Marcus.
“Yeah, today’s gonna be fun,” he says, squinting at me. “Want some coffee?”
“Please.”
He’s already dressed, but judging from how I feel, he’s probably as hungover as I am. He leaves my room and I drag myself out of bed, scratching an itch on my side as I gaze around at the evidence of last night’s rum intoxication. Sometime during the night, I stripped to my boxers. My clothes are scattered all over the floor, and the vase our maid normall
y keeps filled with fresh flowers on my nightstand is laying on the carpet, blooms already wilting.
Damn. Pity I missed all the fun.
After a shower and Marcus’s cup of coffee, I can at least stand the thought of leaving my shelter.
“Driving with me?” I ask.
“Fuck yes.” Marcus detours to his SUV and grabs out his sunglasses before going to my Mustang’s passenger side. “I’m even considering skipping.”
“Nah, come on,” I say, opening my door and sliding in. “We got a newbie to torture, remember? Don’t want her thinking we’re backing off, do we?”
“Forgot about her,” Marcus says. He puffs at his vape as soon as I put my car into gear, and doesn’t let up until we reach Lavish Prep.
By then the coffee’s kicked in, and if I keep my sunglasses on it doesn’t feel like the sun’s trying to scoop out my eyeballs with a spoon.
We’re late, so the steps are empty.
“They’d have locked already,” Marcus murmurs.
For a moment, I’m real fucking tempted to turn back. But I meant what I said — I’m not letting up on Indi any time soon. The whole drive over here, she filled my mind. How she looked on her knees in front of me. I can’t help picturing her naked, her mouth open real wide, waiting for my cock like the obedient toy she is.
After days and days of torture, I’m sure Indi will be more than happy to surrender herself to me.
I deserve nothing less.
She deserves nothing more.
“Earth to Briar?”
“What?”
“Christ, I don’t know what you think you’re gonna accomplish today, but I suggest you lower your expectations, bro. Like drastically.”
I snort at him, and gesture around the building. “The gym door should be open. You know how coach likes his fresh air.”
Marcus sniffs at himself. “Ain’t gonna have much of that if he catches a whiff of either of us.”
We’re both still chuckling as we head for the side of Lavish Prep’s massive building.
I’m coming, my toy. Hope you’ve had a good night’s rest, because this is gonna be one taxing day for you.
Chapter Eleven
Indi
I lay awake for hours last night wondering what Briar had in store for me today. But I’ve been in homeroom for more than ten minutes and he hasn’t even bothered looking up at me.
He’s busy on his phone, and there’s that same frustrated frown on his face.
I sit back in my seat and force myself to face Ms. Parsons as she starts off with some announcements. She hasn’t mentioned the buddy thing again, but I have a feeling that she’ll keep that for the end of class if she plans on bringing it up.
“Good morning, Indi.”
I flinch, recognizing the voice, but unable to process those polite words. I turn in my chair, and scowl suspiciously at Briar. “What do you want?”
I discretely move my feet to make sure he hasn’t somehow managed to tie my laces again, and then casually run my fingers through my hair in case I missed any early morning spitballs.
Briar’s smiling. It looks genuine, and that’s extremely concerning. Then again, he’s wearing shades, so maybe that’s why he has me fooled. That grin makes me think he knows something I don’t.
I feel a nervous tic coming on.
“You rushed off so fast yesterday, I never got to find out how my Lavish Buddy enjoyed her first day.”
“Which part?” I snap, cocking my head at him and not bothering to lower my voice. “The part where you had me on my knees, or where your friend decided to spit in my hair?”
I realize my mistake immediately. Phrasing, for one. Two, whose class we’re in.
“Children?”
I catch Briar suppressing a smile behind a big hand as he sits back in his chair, but Ms. Parsons already has a hand on my shoulder, turning me to face her. “Is everything all right, Indigo?”
“Indi.”
Parsons nods. “Indi?”
“Everything’s fine, Ms. Parsons.”
She tilts her head like I’m covered with spots and still trying to deny the fact that I have measles. “You can always talk to me, Indi. That’s what guidance counselors are for.”
There’s a faint snigger from somewhere in the back of the class. I catch a few words, enough to make me blush. Something about asking her how one goes about losing my virginity. Someone else said Briar would sort me out, no problem.
“I’m fine,” I say through gritted teeth. Ms. Parsons shakes her head, and then looks past me at Briar.
“You should take Indi to the stables during your free period today.” Then she looks back at me. “Your transcript said you enjoyed horse riding. I’m sure Briar would love to take you for a ride.”
The class bursts out laughing. Ms. Parsons hurriedly straightens, and then adjusts her tortoiseshell glasses as if the sudden movement knocked them awry. “Quieten down, class. There’s nothing funny about feeling out of your element at a new school.”
“Really, I’m fine. I don’t want to go—”
Ms. Parsons turns to me, her little rosebud mouth pursed with disapproval. “Horses are very therapeutic.”
“I don’t want—”
“Well, I insist.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Lavish expects its students to be fully involved in everything the school has to offer.” She gestures toward Briar with a limp hand. “Briar’s a wonderful rider, and I’m sure you’d love to see—”
The class erupts into fits of laughter. Ms. Parsons blushes furiously, but surprisingly, stands her ground. “To see the rest of the school.”
Goddamnit Parsons. It would be a real dick move for me to refuse and embarrass her further. I mean, I’m even starting to blush just imagining Briar and willowy Ms. Parsons rutting like animals against the blackboard with their—
Woah, Indi! No.
Now my cheeks are on fire too.
“Okay,” I say in a strangled voice. “I’ll go.”
“Good.” Ms. Parsons nod firmly, makes a point of not looking in Briar’s direction, and then goes back to her desk and starts eating an apple with such determination, I wonder if she’s maybe a closet stress eater-cum-bulimic.
“I’m gonna enjoy riding you,” Briar says, just loud enough for me to hear.
“You mean riding with me,” I correct him, my focus still on Ms. Parson’s squirrelly little bites.
“Not even a little.”
I turn to him, but he’s decided something on his phone is more important than being the subject of my wrath.
I glance at my class timetable. Two classes, a free period, then one class before lunch.
Oh wait. There’s a typo on my schedule. I tilt my head to the side and shove the timetable into my blazer pocket. Free period is meant to say ‘horse riding with Briar’.
Don’t get me wrong — the thought of getting in a few minutes on horseback sounds like heaven. It wasn’t just me being smarmy on my transcript — I do love horse riding. And, luckily, it was an elective at my last school. I refuse to do dressage or jumping or any of that craziness, but just riding was an awesome experience.
Maybe I can race away from Briar, lose him on the grounds, and get the rest of the period to myself.
I risk a quick glance behind me. Briar’s got his arms crossed over his chest, muscles bulging against his blazer and a smirk all over his face. Is it just me, or his hair a little more tousled than normal? It would be nice if he had a sleepless night too.
A girl can dream, right?
Briar
I must admit, I’m kinda surprised when Indigo arrives at the stables. I thought she’d hide in the bathrooms until the period was over. I even messaged my crew, putting them on alert in case I needed them to go root her out. This couldn’t have been a better way to get Indi’s guard down than if I’d planned it myself. I think I’ll send Ms. Parsons a gift when I get home. I do so love to make that teacher blush.
“Pick your poison,” I sa
y, sweeping my arm over the row of stabled horses. These aren’t your teenage girl’s ponies. Every horse in the stable is a thoroughbred with more certifications and paperwork than a surgeon.
Lavish Prep takes three things very seriously.
Football.
The chess club.
And their horses.
Bit of a mixed bag, agreed. But the faculty is pretty eclectic, so I guess it makes sense.
Indigo looks past me, crosses her arms, and gives me a smug little smile. “I forgot to mention…” She tugs at the hem of her skirt, showing off an extra inch of her thighs.
I swallow, and force myself to keep my gaze fixed on her eyes instead of letting them slide down her dainty little body. “That you’re a girl?” I say, cocking an eyebrow at her. “I believe I’ve already confirmed that.”
“I can’t ride in a skirt.” She turns around and gives me a little wave over her shoulder. “Suck it, loser.”
She doesn’t make it very far. When I grab her around the waist and spin her around, she lets out a squeal that does Neanderthal things to my body. I shove her away, but not hard enough for her to fall, and regret that I held back when she spins to face me wearing a scowl. “What the hell?”
“Don’t you know you can’t postpone a date with the devil?” I say, showing her my teeth.
I don’t like the way my heart’s knocking against my ribs or how I got a semi back there for the brief moment our bodies connected. This girl is trouble. I should just let her go already so I can get my head back in the game. Fuck it, I think the only reason I ended up drinking so much last night was because of her. To get her out of my fucking head. Didn’t do me any good — the only thing I seemed capable of expending mental energy on was figuring out ways to harass Indi.
“I’ll get a fucking rash if I—” she begins, but cuts off when I swarm past her.
Lavish thought of everything, of course, girls in skirts included. I open one of the lockers inside the stable and pull out a pair of leggings.