Noble Savages: A Dark Bully High School Romance Multi-Author Box Set

by Kent, Rina

  He lets out a low chuckle. “I’m sorry, was it wrong of me to assume it’s for a lady?”

  I roll my eyes at him. “Dark hair. Light skin. Green eyes.”

  My dad grimaces at me. “What is she, a mannequin?”

  I cock my head. “What?”

  “This ‘fair’ skin of hers…” Edward looks away for a moment. “Is it pale like cream, or a milky tea?”

  “I don’t…” But then I realize I know the answer. “Cream.”

  Father turns immediately and heads for a different section of the vault. “Hair black, brown?”

  “Dark brown. Messy.”

  Edward quirks an eyebrow in my direction, but doesn’t comment. It looks like he’s narrowing in on a certain area, but heavens knows how.

  “And her eyes. Please elaborate.”

  “Greenish…”

  His hand pauses, and he glances at me over his shoulder. “Do try harder, Son.”

  “Uh…there’s a yellow color in the middle.”

  “Hazel or gold?”

  “Gold…” I nod. “Yeah. Gold.”

  His lips curl into a smile. “And how does she make you feel?”

  I blink, and slide my hands under my armpits. “I’m sorry, what now?”

  My father narrows his eyes at me. “She makes you feel uncertain?”

  “What? No. You’re the one doing that.”

  My father laughs, and turns back. It looks like he’s narrowed in on a few pieces with blue and yellow stones.

  “When you were last with her, what feeling stayed with you the longest after she left?”

  “Regret.” I don’t know where the word comes from. I don’t know how I let it get past my lips. But if my father heard it, he doesn’t seem to find it a strange thing for me to say.

  “Yes…This is the one.”

  He swings open a glass door and takes out a bracelet with a trio of blue stones dangling from it.

  I take it gingerly, fumble, and then hold it out.

  “Wow,” I murmur.

  “Three ten millimeter round-cut blue sapphires on a platinum chain. And the diamonds are all one carat, of course.”

  The diamonds he refers to so glibly are embedded along the platinum chain in clusters like a crystalized form of Baby’s Breath.

  “Wow,” I say again, and mean it just as much as I did the first time around.

  “I designed it for a client, but he never took it.”

  My eyes dart up to my father’s face. He looks lost in the past for a moment. “What? Why? It’s fucking beautiful.”

  “He commissioned a full set, but when it came time to pay, he could only afford the necklace.”

  “Oh. Isn’t that like…breach of contract?”

  Edward shakes his head, inhales, and lets out a soft sigh. “He was dying of cancer, Son. Didn’t feel right to hold him to it. And he did give me one of his wife’s painting in partial payment. The one over the safe.”

  “Fuck, okay.” I close my hand over the necklace, and then hurriedly open it again. “Can I have a box or something?”

  “Sure. Second cupboard on the right.” As if he’s coming out of a trance, my father waves his hand at me and leaves the vault.

  As soon as I’m out, he pushes the door closed. “Leave everything as you found it,” he says, heading for the study door. “And make sure to lock up.”

  “Dad, wait.”

  “What is it?” He turns back, and it’s as if I’m talking to a different person. He looks rushed and almost irritated, as if I’m wasting his time.

  But I promised.

  “Uh, I’m sure it’s okay, but I just wanted to let you know that Marcus is gonna be staying here for a little while.”

  My dad remains motionless.

  “You know, so we can study and stuff,” I add lamely.

  Still nothing. If anything, it looks like my father’s thinking about his upcoming meeting, not what I’m telling him.

  “We’ve got enough room, so—”

  “Marcus?” Dad snaps. “Marcus Baker?”

  “Uh…yeah.” I shake my head, and let out a soft laugh. “My friend Marcus.”

  “You’re still friends with that delinquent? I told you to stop seeing him years ago.”

  My head moves back an inch. “Delinquent?”

  “Have you let him into my house?” Father hurries forward, head moving to the side so he can study me from the corner of his eye.

  “He’s my fucking friend. Why wouldn’t I—?”

  “No.” Dad shakes his head. “No. That boy will not set foot in my house. Not now, not ever!”

  “What the—?”

  But my father flicks his wrist and grimaces at his watch. “I have to leave.” When he looks up, his blue eyes are ice. “This isn’t up for discussion. That boy doesn’t come anywhere near this house, understand?”

  My mouth is still open. I want to yell at him, to demand to know what the fuck he’s on about, but all I do is nod mutely.

  He must take it as acceptance, because then he’s gone and I’m left with one of his precious trinkets in hand and a mind whirling like a spinning top.

  Chapter Thirty

  Indi

  I’m late getting to school, and for the first time since arriving at Lavish Prep, it’s because of Marigold.

  We had breakfast together. It was weird, and awkward, and I don’t think I’ve ever been that aware of the sound of my own chewing before in my life, but it felt like a step. I’m not saying we’re BFF’s, but something happened in that hallway last night that made us realize that there’s a possibility that maybe — just maybe — we’re not enemies. I guess that’s what happens when you find something in common with another human being. In this case, it was Marigold Davis.

  Denard looks pointedly at his watch as I slip through the main entrance at one-minute to first bell, and then closes the door soon as I’m through. It locks behind me with such finality that I can’t help but glance over my shoulder. Denard follows me, and I decide not to risk stopping at my locker — I can always get my shit out after homeroom.

  But as soon as I turn to head up the stairs, Denard’s voice calls after me.

  “Where do you think you’re going, Miss Virgo?”

  I pause, my hand on the railing, and frown back at him. “Homeroom?”

  “It’s Friday.” Denard slows a little, turning his head to the side as if waiting for me to realize what that means.

  Uh… Fri-yay?

  “Assembly, Miss Virgo.” He rolls his eyes as he walks past me. “Assembly.”

  It’s my turn to follow Denard, and I do so with a hollow pit for a stomach. This is nothing like the dream I had the other night, but that doesn’t stop my fingers from tingling, and my legs threatening to buckle under me.

  Denard opens the gymnasium door for me, which catches me off guard. I do this weird little spin to frown at him, and then turn to the interior of the gym when I feel eyes on me.

  All the eyes in the entire fucking school.

  In an instant, my cheeks are burning. My feet try to tangle under me before I can sort them out, but luckily I spot an empty seat almost right by the door.

  Which happens to be the exact same time I see Briar. Because he’s the reason there’s an empty seat.

  He pats the space beside him, giving me a smile that does perverted things to my insides.

  “Take a seat,” Denard instructs behind me, and I swallow hard and force myself to go sit beside Briar.

  “Morning, Angel.”

  I shift on the seat, grabbing both straps of my backpack and wishing I could worm my way inside it and disappear.

  “Morning,” I murmur back, keeping my eyes fixed on Denard as he heads over to the middle of the gym floor.

  Nothing like my dream. There’s a podium here, and a guy that has to be the principal standing nearby, talking with a teacher I’m not familiar with.

  I flinch when a hand lands on my thigh.

  “What are you doing?”


  “I’d consider it pretty obvious,” Briar says.

  “Stop touching me.”

  “You weren’t complaining yesterday.” He inches his hand up, and I shift close enough to the edge of the bench to risk falling off. But Briar’s got long arms and the stubbornness of a mule, so he doesn’t seem to notice.

  Wanna know what does notice? My fucking vagina. As if expecting action right here and now — in the middle of an assembly — I start tingling.

  I consider standing, but that would mean drawing attention to myself, and that’s the last thing I want.

  Briar leans closer. “I have something for you.”

  I glance at him before I can stop myself. “Let me guess. An assembly I’ll never forget?” I say dryly.

  I wish I had the words back — it makes me think of my dream.

  “You’ll see.”

  Around us the benches are quietening down. The principal has taken his podium, but he’s busy conferring with Ms. Parsons now.

  “But first, I want you to promise me something.”

  I let out a soft snort. “Nope.”

  “You haven’t even heard—”

  “Don’t have to. Not promising you anything.” I cross my arms over my chest, and my body language screams for an end to the discussion.

  “Morning, Lavish Preparatory,” comes the principal’s voice over the audio system.

  The school sends back an unenthusiastic, “Morning Mr. West,” but Mr. West nods as if he’s been received by a standing ovation.

  Briar squeezes my leg, and I glance reluctantly at him, shrugging.

  He smiles as he takes a rectangular, dark velvet box from his blazer. My eyes fix on it suspiciously as he puts it down on my knee.

  “What’s this?” I whisper.

  “Look.”

  My mouth twitches to the side. I glance up, making sure no one in authority is looking in our direction, then I lever open the lid.

  Light catches the blue sapphires inside and makes them sparkle. I snap the box shut again, my eyes boring into Briar’s. “What the fuck?”

  “Not as self-explanatory as I thought,” Briar says, barely moving his lips, “But if you need me to elaborate—”

  “I don’t want it.” I ram the box into the side of his leg.

  “Sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “Not even if you get to wear it to Dylan’s party tonight?”

  I glare at Briar, but he’s staring at the principal, a faint smile on his face.

  I’d forgotten about the party. About my promise to Addy. Does it matter that she’s pulled a disappearing act if I swore that I would uncover Briar for the savage we both know him to be?

  But something’s not right. This is too convenient, the timing too perfect.

  “Why?”

  Briar’s smile hitches up, but he doesn’t look at me. “I think it would look good on you.”

  “I mean, the party. Why do you want to go with me?”

  Briar lets out a low chuckle. I fumble with the box as Briar pushes it back onto my lap. “I haven’t said—”

  “But you will.” When he finally looks at me, a thrill chases through my body that converges at my core. “Because we both know what’s going to happen tonight.”

  A Simple Affair

  Hosted by Dylan Steward

  15 Serenity Lane, Devil’s Creek Golf Estate

  22h00 till Late

  Strictly black-tie

  I stare at the image messaged to me by an unknown number a few minutes after assembly this morning. Fuck knows how the person who sent it got my number, but that’s not really top of my mind right now.

  A Simple Affair? This party doesn’t sound simple at all. And what high school kid arranges a black-tie party? Or is that code for something else…?

  I would have asked Addy, but she isn’t at school today, and her phone is still off. I went to the office to ask after her, but they refused to hand out any details.

  Guess I’ll have to figure out the logistics by myself. It sucks, because my plan involved her as my accomplice. I have no idea how I’m supposed to pull this off without her.

  I should be paying attention to Mrs. Winslow’s lecture on sanitation policy in developing countries, but I swear she’s speaking Ancient Sumerian or something equally as cryptic. All I can think about is the jewelry box in my pocket. When Mrs. Winslow starts writing out our homework on the board, I slip the box from my pocket and take out the delicate bracelet with its mesmerizing stones.

  I let the bracelet slip through my fingers, twisting and turning the sapphires so they catch the light.

  God, it’s beautiful.

  Which brings up so many questions, least of all—

  We both know what’s going to happen tonight.

  I squeeze shut my eyes and inhale deep. No, Briar. You think you know what’s going to happen, but you’ve got no fucking clue.

  As I slip the bracelet back inside its box, I feel eyes on me. I put the box in my pocket and take a quick peek around the classroom.

  Marcus is openly staring at me, his dark eyes as unreadable as his blank face.

  I hurriedly face forward again, and start copying our homework into my notebook. As much as I try to ignore it, I can feel those black eyes on me for the rest of the lesson.

  Will he be there tonight?

  Fuck, why wouldn’t he? He and Briar seem inseparable.

  Does he have a date?

  Why the fuck do I care? I have more important things to think about.

  Like what the hell I’m going to wear.

  Briar

  When I spot Indi leaning against the wall of classroom 301, a smile twitches at my mouth. She’s staring at something in her hand, and as soon as I come close enough to see it sparkle, my suspicion as to what it is is confirmed.

  “Guess I’m not the only one who likes pretty things.”

  Indi starts, her hand closing guiltily over the sapphires. She slips the chain back into the box and shoves it into her blazer.

  Her glare slides right off when I slip my hand behind her neck, draw her close, and bring her close enough to kiss.

  Stiffening against me, her eyes dart over mine, anger swiftly replaced with confusion.

  “I’ll have to take it back if you say no,” I murmur.

  Her neck muscles tense under my fingers. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

  “Dylan won’t be amused if you arrive naked.”

  Color touches her cheeks, and she drops her eyes. “I mean…I don’t really have—”

  “Now that can’t be true. You’ve gotta have something in your closet.”

  Indi’s eyes narrow. “Yeah, I used to. Then some fucker burned down my house, remember?”

  She steps back, tugs my hand off her neck, and walks away, turning her back to me.

  Shit. How the fuck could I have forgotten about that?

  My hand curls into a fist, and I thump it against the wall a few times as I stare at the back of Indi’s head.

  I step up behind her, and grab her stomach when she tries to step away. Gentle though, just enough pressure to keep her in place.

  “There’s a boutique in downtown Lavish. When we’re done here—”

  “No.”

  “You don’t want a—?”

  “I’ll be at the party, and I’ll be dressed, but it won’t be in something you bought me.” She tugs my hand off her belly and steps forward, turning and watching me warily as if convinced I would try and grab her again.

  What Indi doesn’t know is that I can be patient if I want. So I’ll wait until we’re inside before trying to change her mind.

  Because now I can’t get the thought of me and Indi alone in a changing room out of my head.

  There are a handful of kids ahead of us, some leaning against the wall, others immersed in their phones, waiting for detention to start. One of them murmurs something about Denard being late, and I glance down at my watch. Weird — detention was supposed to start fi
ve minutes ago. I’ve never known Denard to—

  “Afternoon, everyone,” a voice calls out from behind us.

  I turn, frowning at Ms. Parsons as she sweeps past us. “I’m afraid Mr. Denard has taken ill, so if you could all please follow me?”

  “Where we going?” one of the kids up front asks.

  Ms. Parsons turns, adjusting her glasses with a finger and giving him a wide smile. “I have a heap of fun activities planned for us this afternoon,” she says, her eyes running over the small herd of students trailing her. “We’ll be starting with some visualization exercises on the lawn. Come on, no time to waste!”

  I’d been walking at Indi’s side. At Parson’s enthusiastic statement, we both break out in a groan. I glance at her, smiling, and she looks up at me and smiles back. But then her face solidifies again, and she surges forward, putting several feet between us.

  Patience is my middle name, Indi, and I’m stubborn as fuck too. I meant what I said — tonight I’m making you mine.

  You don’t get a say in the matter.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Indi

  I thought I had it all figured out, but I’d forgotten one very important element: Marigold Davis. When I arrive home after detention, she’s already home and busy with something in the kitchen. I try to sneak past to my room, but she must have the hearing of an arctic fox, because I haven’t gone two steps before she calls out to me.

  “Indi? Join me, please.”

  I roll my eyes and drop my backpack on the stairs. Sweet cinnamon hangs thick in the air, and I can’t help but inhale a greedy lungful as I step into the kitchen.

  “What you making?”

  “We’re making snickerdoodles. And then shortbread, and some pound cake.” Marigold peers at me over her shoulder. “Hurry and go wash your hands. We have a busy afternoon ahead of us.”

  “I…I have homework.”

  “And the whole weekend to finish it,” Marigold says smoothly.

  Fuck.

  I hurry down the hall to the guest bathroom and wash my hands. When I come out, my eyes track down the hall to my mom’s old bedroom. I glance toward the kitchen. An electric mixer turns on, and I use the noise as cover to race down the hall and try the door.