The Misters Series (Mister #1-7)

by J. A. Huss

  His hips rock slowly against mine. His mouth on my nipples, his hands squeezing my breasts.

  This is the embodiment of love. This togetherness with a man you cannot live without. A man who makes you want to sacrifice yourself for just one more moment with him.

  “I will never let you down,” he says, taking his kisses to my face. He kisses my cheek, my nose, my forehead, and finally my lips. “I will never let anything happen to you, Rory. I will always be there.”

  But I want to tell him the same thing. I will never let them take him from me. I would rather die than let go and live on alone. I’d rather die.

  But then he starts to push himself deeper inside me. Like he’s reaching for my soul. And a few seconds later he’s fucking the shit out of me with a hand over my mouth to stifle my moans. His skin slaps against mine, our lovemaking becomes a soundtrack of pleasure.

  Just before we come together, he kisses my mouth and swallows my scream. Moaning into me as we reach for heights of pleasure I’ve never dreamed possible.

  I’m pretty sure the entire world knows we’re here having this moment of perfection together. Like there is no way to miss the fact that Princess Rory finally got her prince and they are living happily ever after, even if it only lasts this one second.

  “Marry me,” he says, burying his head into my neck. “Right now.”

  “What?” I laugh, breathless. “We’re hiding in my room at Palladium House, Five,”

  “I don’t care. I need this, Rory. I need this right now. I need you to say yes and make promises, and never forget them. Because you are the only woman I will ever love. You are the only woman I will ever marry. So even if it’s not legal, I need it.” He sits up, holds my face in his hands as his serious gaze bores down into my soul. “Give it to me.”

  “I do,” I say, kissing him on the mouth. “I do, I do, I do.”

  He grins down at me. And this might be the happiest I’ve ever seen him in like… well, ever. “Mrs. Aston.”

  I nod yes. “I am your Mrs. And I always have been.”

  He hugs me tight and rolls off to the side, still holding me to his chest. He whispers things in my ear as we drift off.

  “We’ll live the perfect fairy tale, my queen. We’ll get the castle, and the carriage, and we’ll have the most beautiful little princes and princesses. And they will never have to know what it took to get it. They will never have to grow up and fix our mistakes. We will never let this world touch them. We’ll live in our little fairy tale land, and we’ll never leave.”

  I fall asleep believing that we’re starting our once upon a time.

  But it’s never gonna end with, And they lived happily ever after.

  Because this new day—the day to end all days—is here with a vengeance. I wake up to pounding on the door of my Palladium House room knowing that’s all it is.

  “Rory!” Mia’s frantic voice penetrates my sleepy dreams and jolts Five awake beside me.

  “Shit,” he whispers, already out of bed, pulling his clothes on.

  “Rory!” Mia’s screams are frantic. “Open up!” She pounds her fists harder to punctuate each syllable.

  “I’m coming!” I yell back. Five disappears into my closet clutching his shirt, just as I yank the belt of my robe tight around my waist.

  I run over to the door, throw one last glance over my shoulder to make sure Five is hidden, and open the door just as Mia is about to pound again.

  But she stops. Her eyes are red and tears are streaming down her face.

  “What’s going on?”

  And that’s when I notice there are people coming up the stairs. Dozens of people.

  “Tera!” Mia manages through her sob.

  My eyes dart to Tera’s door, which is standing wide open down the hall.

  And there’s that feeling I feel like I’ve been waiting for my whole life. The sick, twisted stomach in knots so tight, it’s choking on them. The feeling that something is very, very wrong here.

  “What’s going on?” I ask again. But this time my question is drowned out by Kallie’s scream as she makes it to the door and sees what I can’t.

  I push past Mia, who screams, “Don’t look, Rory!” and yanks on my arm to try to keep me from seeing what I must see.

  Kallie is still screaming when Edward puts his hand around her mouth to make her stop. And there’s a part of me—even as I turn away to look inside Tera’s room—that automatically thinks, He did this. Whatever it is, he did this.

  Tera is hanging from a beam up in her perfect vaulted ceiling. Her neck broken. Her body slack and limp.

  Dead.

  I back out of the room—or try to, because everyone is there in that same moment, preventing me from leaving.

  Someone grabs my shoulders and I turn, thinking I need Five to hold me. But it’s not Five. It’s Frank.

  “Shhh,” he says, petting my hair. “Come with me.”

  But I snap out of it before he gets me more than a few inches past the threshold of Tera’s door and break away as I run towards my room. Because I know if I go with him right now, he’s gonna say something like, This is what happens when you try to run, Rory. So don’t run. Don’t put up a fight. Don’t ever think you’ll get away. Or you’ll end up like Tera Middleton, hanging by her neck from a two-hundred-year-old beam in the most perfect eating house mansion on the Street of Princeton University.

  This is the nightmare I live in now. And tonight, I have a choice. Live it, for the rest of my life. Or make it end tonight. At any cost.

  That’s when a hand grabs me and pulls me to a stop.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven - Five

  The closet is small, but empty, since Rory hasn’t bothered to unpack since she got here. We both knew her senior year here at Princeton could be cut very short if things went bad, and this is absolutely worst-case scenario. We are leaving here tonight. Fuck this. No way am I letting her put herself in danger.

  I admit, I’m surprised about Tera’s death. Not that it’s an apparent suicide, but that it was Tera they took out first, and not Rory.

  We got very lucky. I don’t think we’ll get that lucky again.

  That thought alone has my heart beating against my chest so hard, it feels like a stampede of thundering hooves.

  I press my ear against the closet door, trying to hear what’s going on… and that’s when I hear the unmistakable sound of a police radio.

  The urge to burst out of her room, grab her by the arm, and take her out of here is so strong—

  Her door opens with a creak. Someone is coming in.

  Fuck.

  They walk straight to the closet and—

  “Five?” Rory whispers, opening the door.

  “Jesus Christ, Rory—”

  She breaks down in tears. “She’s dead, Five. She’s hanging from the fucking ceiling. They killed her!” She’s hysterical, but she’s still whispering, which makes this whole scene all that much sadder.

  Rory comes into the closet and pulls the door closed. Now we are two people hiding from an enemy we don’t know or understand.

  “We’re leaving,” I say. “Right now. Get dressed and—”

  “No,” she says, trying to stifle sobs. “No. The police are here. They want me to answer questions. I told them I was gonna get dressed and come right back out. Brian said he found her. And he said he found Tera’s phone and we were texting this afternoon. She was talking about leaving, and then stupid fucking Brian said she was paranoid all week. He’s trying to insinuate she was mentally ill. I can’t leave. I can’t let him twist her death into this… this… farce!”

  “Rory,” I say, holding her shoulders in the dark. Looking at her in the tiniest bit of light leaking in from under the door, I can only see a glint of those blue eyes I love so much. “These people are not fucking around. They killed her because she was gonna run. And if they think you’re gonna run too—”

  “They won’t. I won’t let them know.”

  “You just said t
hey have your texts. What did you say in those texts?”

  “Nothing, really. She just said Cliff was coming to pick her up and I should leave too. But—”

  “But what, Rory?” My voice is low, but there’s no mistake. That’s fear coming out with my words.

  “But last Saturday, at the pledge thing. She took me into the bathroom and was calling them a cult. She told Brian no and she wanted me to say I wouldn’t agree to it.”

  “Wait,” I say. “What the fuck happened last weekend?” Jesus Christ. How did I not get these details when I first got here? I had sex with her instead. My fucking cock might get us both killed!

  A knock at her door makes us both stiffen. Rory opens the closet door a crack and says, “Be right there.” And then she closes it again and whispers, “I’m gonna go give my statement. You get out of here. I’ll meet you in the morning at the bell tower.”

  And before I can object, she’s out of the closet and closing the door on me.

  I wait, desperate to come up with some scenario that doesn’t involve her talking to the police and being around all these crazy motherfucking people all night…

  But for the first time in my life, I don’t have the answer. I’m helpless. They’ve got me. Someone has finally found my kryptonite and it’s called Princess Shrike.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight - Rory

  “You don’t have to do this, Rory.” Frank is being unreasonably reasonable. He’s got his arm around me protectively and he’s glaring at the police like they have no right to be here.

  I ignore him and look at the officer questioning me. “No,” I say. “I do have to do this. Because there’s no way Tera killed herself and I need to get to the bottom of it.”

  Frank makes an incredulous grunt.

  The police officer taking my statement raises both eyebrows in surprise. “Are you insinuating that there was foul play involved, Miss…” He looks down at his note pad. “Shrike?” And then his eyes brighten. “Hey… you’re not related to that biker dude who used to have that show a while back? What’s his name?”

  “Spencer,” I say. “Spencer Shrike Bikes. And yes, he’s my father.”

  The officer smiles, about to launch into a million questions, but Frank interjects. “Can we please knock off the pleasantries? Our dear friend just killed herself tonight.”

  The officer scratches his temple with his pen and says, “Miss Shrike seems to have another angle on this case, Mr. Fulbright. So why don’t you go take a seat over there while she and I chat?”

  His friendly demeanor is gone and Mr. Officer has taken its place. Frank scowls, but the officer says, “There,” as he points to a table in the main Palladium House foyer with the pen.

  Frank huffs out some air through his nose. Put off at being ordered around. I bet Frank Fulbright isn’t used to being ordered around. But this is a police investigation and he’s smart enough to get into Princeton, so he’s smart enough to know when it’s in his best interest to do as he’s told. So he goes.

  “Why don’t we take a stroll out back, Miss Shrike? So you can gather your thoughts.”

  It’s not a question any more than telling Frank to go sit his ass down was a request. So I follow him through the back doors and out into the immaculately landscaped back yard.

  “Now,” he says, once we’re a good distance down a pea-pebbled pathway winding through some low shrubbery. “Why don’t you start with why you think Tera Middleton is a victim?”

  I don’t trust this guy, even if he is some throwback fan of my father’s long-lived TV reality show. So I just say, “Because she wasn’t depressed. She was afraid of something.”

  “Afraid of what?” the officer asks, writing down my answer.

  “I don’t know,” I say. I can’t exactly tell him anything about Palladium House. I’ll sound like a crazy person. And that will make Tera look even worse. So I lie and say, “She had a guy stalking her.”

  “Who?” he asks.

  “I don’t know. She never said. I was away all summer. Maybe someone from the beach. They stay at the Hamptons, so maybe a guy she met there.” But I don’t really want to send him off on the wrong track. So I add, “But… I could be wrong about that. She never had a chance to say anything. She was busy all week, so I didn’t see her until today.”

  “I thought you said you didn’t see her today? That she texted you?”

  Shit. This guy isn’t gonna miss anything. And why should he? Catching people in lies is his fucking job, after all. I wish I could channel Sparrow and her superpower lying talent.

  God, how badly I want to be home right now. With my family and my friends in my quaint, safe town. On the family farm, swimming in the pool and having secret meetings with Five down by Sparrow’s brook or in the grotto behind the waterfall. I’d give almost anything.

  “Miss Shrike,” the officer barks. “Did you see her today or not?”

  I gulp air. God, I really need to practice my lying. There’s no way this guy will believe me. “I was looking for her this morning but I couldn’t find her. So I didn’t see her until just now. When Mia came banging on my door, screaming.”

  “Can I see the text conversation?” he asks.

  “I have to get my phone from my room.”

  “OK, we’ll get that when we’re done here. Did she mention anything else? Did she give you a name?”

  “No, I just told you. I’ve barely talked to her.”

  “But you were the one she texted to say”—he looks down at his notes—“she was leaving.”

  “We’re best friends.”

  “Uh-huh. And I have a conflicting statement from her other best friends. Kallie and Mia?” Jesus Christ. “They say she was depressed. All summer, in fact. They were with her. And she was irrational all week, talking about people watching her. Following her. But they did say that she didn’t have a boyfriend in the Hamptons. So I don’t think your theory holds up, Miss Shrike. In fact, I think you’re leaving things out. They both told me you’re involved with some kind of criminal?” Another glance down at his pad. “Some guy named Rutherford Aston the Fifth. Five, they called him?”

  I say nothing.

  “I looked him up. No criminal record—”

  “He’s not a criminal,” I say.

  “—in the US, that is. But the guy who runs the gang unit in Brooklyn, he’s a good friend of mine. We go way back. He loves your dad too. He told me that Five Aston is actually connected to the Chinese mob.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “But you grew up with him?”

  “Look,” I say, trying not to lose my patience, but not doing a great job at holding in the explosion about to happen, “this isn’t about Five Aston. He doesn’t even know her.”

  “No?” the officer says. “But he knows her brother.”

  “It’s not Five,” I say. “That’s impossible. His grandfather just died and he went to the funeral—”

  “His grandfather,” the officer says. And now I know I have really fucked this up. “You mean Damian Li? The head of an infamous Chinese Triad based in Hong Kong?”

  I stare him straight in the eyes and say, “I’d like to call my lawyer.”

  The officer laughs. “Don’t be silly. You’re not under suspicion, Miss Shrike. Mr. Fulbright has vouched for you already. I’m just trying to clear up any loose ends. And since you made that statement back there in front of other people about Tera Middleton’s suicide being suspicious, I felt it was necessary to let you know that we deal in evidence, not conjecture.” He stares down at me, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Are you getting this, Miss Shrike?”

  I swallow hard and nod my head. I’m crystal clear on what’s happening here. He’s one of them. And he just threatened me. “Yes, sir,” I say. “I think I was mistaken.”

  He smiles and places a hand on my shoulder, gives it a comforting squeeze. “Understandable, Miss Shrike. It’s an emotional moment. Finding out your friend was mentally ill and decided to
take her own life is… trying. But I’m glad we could clear this up. Now, the bad news is—”

  Is he fucking for real right now? The bad news is that my friend is dead!

  “—that the entire second floor of the Palladium House east wing is now taped off.”

  “What?”

  “Evidence crew is in there now. In fact”—he points towards the front of the house, where flashing red lights are bouncing off the brick exterior—“the ambulance is here to take her body down to the morgue. You won’t be able to go back to your room.”

  “But my phone,” I say. “I need to call people. Her family, for one.”

  “Oh, the family has already been notified. They’re on their way down. I’m sure whatever condolences you have can wait until they’ve recovered from the shock. The good news is, Mr. Fulbright has offered to let you stay in his room until things are settled. Probably by tomorrow afternoon. I understand it’s Eat Meet this weekend? I wouldn’t want you to miss out on that, so I’ll make sure your room is accessible in time to get ready.”

  This is fucking insane. But what else is new? Everything about my life since that text from Oliver has been one crazy revelation after another.

  I just never expected Palladium House to have the local law enforcement on their payroll.

  The officer leads me back inside where Frank conveniently waits. “Everything OK?” Frank asks.

  The officer places his hand on my shoulder, gripping just a little bit too tight. “Miss Shrike has had a hard night, Mr. Fulbright. She was mistaken earlier. She didn’t know what she was saying. Isn’t that right?” he says, looking down at me.

  I swallow hard and nod my head. “I’m so upset.” And it’s not a lie, either. “My best friend… is dead,” I stammer. “Can I please go up to my room and get my phone?” I ask the officer.

  The officer directs his gaze to Frank, not to me. And I feel the explosion over that little misogynist move coming. Be calm, Rory. You’re playing a game against much better players. “Mr. Fulbright? Can you please go fetch Miss Shrike’s phone for her?”