I run my hands through my hair before exiting myself and heading over to the guys. I need a smoke.
Down by the courtyard at our usual table are Bass, Alek, and Beck with a few other guys we can tolerate. We rarely mingle with any other students here. We were taught to be kings ruling over their loyal subjects. You don’t befriend the help. You don’t blur the lines between master and slave. Sure, we throw parties where nearly everyone is allowed entrance to, but you won’t find us interacting with anyone other than the girls who are supposed to stand at our side.
Carrington spots me from her place at the girls’ table beside ours. She eagerly waves me over swinging her blonde hair over her shoulder and using her arms to push up the cleavage already coming out of her shirt, a birthday gift from her father on her sixteenth birthday. I have to admit I had my fair share of fun with them, but lately, I can barely tolerate her around me. I tell myself it has no connection to the fact that a feisty dark-haired vixen takes up most of my thoughts. But who am I kidding? Scarlett Steele has gotten under my skin. And it will be my mission to get her under me.
“Ace, what took you so long?” she squeals as I make it to the table.
My sister turns to me giving me a grueling stare. I don’t know what her deal has been lately, but she’s been in an even nastier mood. Winter and I are one in the same. Not only have we been told our looks are nearly identical to one another, but we have the same attitude problem, thanks to dear old dad. Winter is an almost carbon copy of my mother, Willa, with the same natural platinum, almost white hair, clear blue eyes, and snow colored skin. My hair is a darker blond like my father and his brother, but that’s about all we have in common. I hate them both. They, along with their closest friends, have raised my boys and I to follow in their footsteps and run the underground crime world of Hillcrest Hills and its neighboring territories. But all of that comes at a price. And ours has been our souls.
“What do you want, Carrie?” I scowl at her, and she laughs it off seemingly.
“Just wondering what we’re going dressed as for the party this weekend?” she asks, running her hands down my arm. She flutters her lashes, and it makes me sick.
“Whatever,” I say, turning away from her. “Just choose and let me know.” I leave her standing there with her girls and walk over to Bass who’s smirking at me.
“Why do you look like you’ve just been fucked? And not in the good way, brother?” he asks, leaning back on the table behind him.
I scowl at him turning to look at Carrington.
“She’s hot man, what’s the issue?” he asks.
I turn back to him and his smirk is now a full ear to ear grin. “Fuck off, Bass, you know exactly what the problem is.”
“Aah yes. A certain dark-haired babe with a banging body, a smart mouth, and a serious attitude problem that somehow just keeps making your dick hard.”
“Yeah, exactly,” I say, and he starts laughing hysterically.
“Man, you’re fucked. I get turned on by the little vixen and her outbursts, and I ain’t even the one with my hands all over her.”
“Fuck off, Bass,” I say, walking away and heading, well to be honest, there’s nowhere I can go where my thoughts of her wouldn’t follow.
For the rest of the day I manage to hide away from Carrington and notice Scarlett is also avoiding me. After our altercation earlier today, I don’t blame her. It was intense, our bodies so close together, our heartbeats mimicking each other’s rhythm. Our attraction is undeniable, but I can see her fighting it. My uncle has instructed me to get closer to her, to make her trust me, confide in me. It’s fucked up in a way, getting information out of her for his benefit, but I really have no other choice. My uncle calls the shots around here. Contrary to what everyone around us believes, he’s the man in charge, the true king of this perilous empire. He uses us for his dirty work. Finding teens willing to deal for him or experiment with his synthetic drug, and if they refuse, well it doesn’t end well for them. He uses the recruits we find to flood the streets of Pleasant Hills, Hillcrest Hills, and the surrounding neighborhoods with his drug. His reach even extending down to Providence almost three hours away. My father is the puppet whose face is at the front, but behind the scenes is Wesley Servite, the devil himself. I used to blindly follow his orders. He was someone I looked up to. But what Little Red said to me earlier today resonates deep within me.
“You act as if you were corrupted by the world you were forced to live in. As if you unknowingly follow orders, but you’re one in the same with him. Two men cut from the same flaming cloth. Two sinners who disguise themselves as saints to avoid damnation.”
She’s right. We’re sinners, there is no good left in us. But then she appeared without warning. The embodiment of salvation.
My redemption.
NINETEEN
SCARLETT
And the sweet hell continues. Week after week of continuous homework and endless studying. They weren’t kidding when they said Servite Academy was the top College Preparatory School. The load of work and assignments we have to turn in is maddening. I spent the entire week preparing to recite my first monologue of the semester. After much consideration, I’ve rewritten mine about five times, I’ve finally decided to go with the one I had initially written. I sit nervously on my chair tapping my fingers on the desk in front of me when I catch Ace’s stare on me as I keep fidgeting. The voices all around me silence as Macallan walks into the classroom just as the first bell rings. He sets his briefcase on his desk and walks around to the front of his desk leaning back against it. He’s wearing a dark red sweater today under his black blazer, his brown hair perfectly combed, and dark eyes behind his spectacles. I look at him and his gaze locks with mine. I really hope he doesn’t make me go first.
“Mr. Servite. You’re up first,” he says sternly.
I hear Ace grunt as I exhale the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding in.
“Don’t look so relieved, Ms. Steele, you’re up next,” he says grinning at me.
Ace stands and slowly walks over to the front of the class, causing all eyes of both the female and opposite sex to follow him. He tightly holds his paper in his hands and sets it on Macallan’s desk all the while never letting his gaze leave Macallan’s. He turns toward the class and instantly begins reciting his monologue.
“Scarlett. Crimson. Cerise. Bordeaux. Red is the color of insanity. The color of the passion I feel for you. The color of the flames of hell’s raging inferno. The color of a wicked fire burning bright and wild. Which in a sense isn’t it all the same? I prick my fingers on your silky thorns, but I relish in the sweetness of your taste. For both blood and wine are red. And you are now my favorite flavor. Red is the blood of the wrath I will drown in to keep you safe, and I’ll need the wine to keep me sane. My angel, you are what keeps me sound, for if you are not mine, the blood will shed from my eyes and the wine will drive me insane.
For you are an angel in this hell on earth. I am the serenity in your chaos. You are the fuel to my eternal fire. Together we are the perfect match. One created in limbo, the space between heaven and hell. You are the angel that makes me want to follow you to heaven. But it is me who will drag you down with me to hell.”
The class remains silent as Ace finishes his monologue. But my eyes burn with tears threatening to spill, like a broken dam that can’t be stopped. He never once looked away from me. The devil spoke to the angel. He wrote his monologue for me. A monologue of love. A monologue of hate. A message of warning. A ballad of passion. All the while I wrote mine for her. As always, it’s her that haunts my every choice. I will need to re-write my monologue to turn into Macallan because the one I will recite today, is not the one I’ve written in front of me.
Macallan clears his throat as he steps toward Ace.
“Thank you, Mr. Servite, that was poetic. However, I can’t quite decide if the emotion you were trying to convey is love, or hate?”
“It’s u
p for the audience to interpret, Professor Macallan,” he says before heading back to his seat.
All eyes follow him back and land on me as he takes his seat beside me. The room remains silent and I look away from him not knowing how to react.
“Very well, that was remarkable. It will be hard to beat. Ms. Steele, if you will,” he says, motioning to the podium at the front of the room.
I slowly stand walking toward the front of the room, and I can hear my classmates snicker as I make my way past them.
“Was it a coincidence his monologue started with her name?” I hear someone whisper.
“I told you they were like together, together,” says another.
“Poor girl, she’s just another charity case. I mean he has Carrington, what the hell would he want with her?”
I hand Macallan my paper and he raises an eyebrow at me as he glares down at the title, “Madam Mother.” He’s about to be a hell of a lot more confused when I begin to recite a completely different monologue. I walk over to the back side of the podium and lift my gaze to meet Ace who stares intently at me. Here it goes, Horseman. Two can play this game.
“I have seen ugly. I have seen beauty. Beauty in those who were branded ugly, and ugly in those who were deemed beautiful. I’ve seen angels in devilish faces, and I’ve seen the devil in even the most angelic. I’ve witnessed grace but have also fallen deep into the clutches of evil.
I am an angel. I am the devil. Sometimes I’m neither. Other times I’m both. But mostly I’m in between. I am limbo. Stuck between two worlds, not quite fitting into either. I am as bad as bad can be, and as good as it can get. Sometimes I am all shades. Sometimes I’m a shadow of black and white. But mostly I am a fire burning scarlet red. I am all, for so many things I am. I have been privy to the evil on earth, but the more I hurt the more deadly I get. I am filled with poison. But blessed with beauty. I am cursed with rage. But blessed with self-control.
I will survive my descent through the gates of hell, and its burning inferno, because the fire within me burns stronger and brighter than the flames of hell itself. I will not fear the fire, some do, but I won’t. Instead I will become one with the fire, for we are the same. Two unpredictable, untamable, and volatile forces running wild and free. And I will wear my scars proudly. The scars made from the torment of your words, the torture of your actions, the agony that is you. It will be my dazzling dress made of hellfire. They told me to be careful. To never trust a pretty face. For the devil himself was once a beautiful angel too.”
Just as with Ace, the class is silent as I finish my monologue. Ace never once let his eyes stray from mine. I walk around the podium about to head to my seat when Macallan speaks.
“Bravo, Miss Steele, I must admit I’m impressed. But might I ask what emotion you were conveying as it is hard to understand from your paper here.” I look at him as he smirks at me holding my paper up to me. Ignoring him, I turn toward the class, my eyes connecting once again with Ace as I answer.
“Regret.”
Another five students recite their monologues to the class, however none as exciting as Ace’s and mine. Love. Fear. Joy. Sadness. Anger. All mundane emotions. The same kid I spoke to the other day, the one with the ferret, I even think he got a few tears. I manage to stop myself from looking at Ace for the remainder of the class hoping to erase what just happened between us. Our monologues almost mirrored each other. He, the devil, speaking to an angel. And I, a tainted angel, unafraid of the devil. The bell rings and everyone hurries out the door to their next class. I pack my things away and head toward the door but Macallan stops me before I can exit.
“Miss Steele, a word.”
I notice Ace stops at the door at Macallan’s words. I turn to him and approach his desk. Ace starts walking toward us but halts when Macallan lifts his hand.
“Mr. Servite, I don’t think you want to be late to your second period. I believe Professor Hastings is more of a stickler for tardiness than I am.”
Ace turns and rushes out of the room slamming the door behind him as I turn back to Macallan and I know he notices my uneasiness.
“Not to worry, Miss Steele. I’ll write you a note, so Hastings doesn’t bother you.” He stands and walks toward the side of the desk leaning against it, my paper in his hand. “I think there may have been some confusion while turning in your paper. You see I was a bit perplexed as I was listening to your monologue and I was not able to follow along.”
“I will rewrite it tonight and turn it in Monday if I may. I had a last-minute change of heart and realized the monologue I recited was better suited for the circumstances.”
“I see. And might I say it was. Well, of course then, I expect to see it on my desk first thing Monday morning.” He scribbles something on a piece of paper handing it to me. I reach out to grab it, but he doesn’t instantly let go. “You must be careful, Miss Steele. Was I anyone else, I may have confused your monologue to be a response to Mr. Servite’s,” he says, a smug grin on his face.
“It wasn’t,” I reply angrily.
“Yes, well for your sake I hope that’s true.”
“Is there something you’d like to say to me, Professor Macallan, because quite frankly I believe you do.” I’m irritated by his insinuations.
“No, of course not, I just mean Wallace Servite has quite a reputation. The boy means trouble. Wouldn’t like a sweet girl like you to get mixed into that.”
“Well, thanks for looking out, Professor Macallan, but I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself.”
“Of course, Miss Steele, my apologies. I can see that now.”
“If you’ll excuse me,” I say, rushing out the door.
At lunch I catch up with Kai and Jax in the courtyard before heading together into the dining hall. We grab our lunches, this time I decided to go with grilled chicken tacos from the Mexican food section, and head over to the table where Jade, Ruby, and Stella are already seated and eating. As we sit down, I turn to Stella who looks to me with a nervous look on her face. I raise a brow asking her what’s wrong, but she looks around the table before leaning into me.
“I heard about your little monologue war with Ace,” she whispers to me.
How the hell could she have already heard about that? I look to her questioningly and she shrugs.
“Leigh texted me.”
Ahh I had forgotten Leighton, i.e. the gossip queen, is in our homeroom class. I shrug my shoulders at her, playing off what really happened.
“He wrote a monologue, I wrote a monologue, we recited them in class. It’s no big deal.”
“Leigh said his monologue was about you and well…”
I interrupt her before she finishes. “And you’re going to believe Leighton the liar when I’m telling you it was no big deal?” I say a little too loudly causing the rest of the table to turn to us.
“No, of course not. I’m sorry. Leigh just looks for drama in everything.”
We turn back to eat, and nobody questions what we’re talking about, instead we argue about whether or not we’re going to be attending week two of the Halloween festivities. Stella and Jade argue we must because why wouldn’t we go to a party. Jade also mentions it’s going to be her first actual date with Liam, the quarterback, and she needs us there as backup in case she needs an escape. She’s sweet on him but it looks like Liam Walker, bonafide player, has turned out to be a clinger. As we are debating if it’s worth another run-in with the Horsemen and their queens, we’re interrupted by none other than the kings themselves.
“Speak of the devil and he doth appear,” I say, not bothering to turn around as I feel them scowling behind me.
“You’d be lucky if it were just the devil, but darling, we are much worse,” says Bass, and I see Jade’s body suddenly tense as she scowls up at the second Horseman.
I turn and notice it’s only Bass, Alek, and Beck who are before us. Standing up I face them, meeting Bass’s angry glare.
“To what do I owe this pleasure,” I say mockingly.
“Just a warning, you all better be at the party tomorrow night.”
“And why would we want to attend?” asks Jade.
“Trust me, Wolfe, you wouldn’t want to miss it.”
At that, Bass turns around and heads back to their table at the end of the courtyard, Alek and Beck following closely behind him.
“Well, that settles it, we’re not going,” I say, causing everyone to laugh.
“Have you talked to Drake?” asks Kai as we walk together to our fifth period class.
I haven’t seen Drake since I ran into him coming out of the headmaster’s office on Monday after the incident with Ace outside Macallan’s room. Drake, of course, was suspended and given a written warning, strike one of the three that will get us kicked out of the academy. I hate that it’s my fault and since I feel guilty, I haven’t talked to him since. He’ll be back at school on Monday but I’m also hoping I get to see him tomorrow night.
“He’s been ignoring my calls and messages. I think it’s best I give him time to cool down. He was super pissed about Ace and how he’s constantly around me. I don’t want him to get into any more trouble because of me.”
“Yeah, he’s been in a foul mood. He’s had classes all week down in the headmaster’s wing, and detention during lunch and after school. A bit much for throwing a punch if you ask me,” Kai says.
“Yeah, if the punch hadn’t been thrown at the headmaster’s son.”
Saturday night it’s once again time for another Halloween fiasco. Not sure what this town’s obsession with Halloween is, but whatever. The theme tonight is “Gods and Monsters,” and is based off of the gods and monsters of Greek mythology, and get this, it’s a couple’s theme party. To my surprise it’s also being held down by the private beach on the outskirts of the academy. According to Stella, this time around, however, the beach houses are not going to be open for the party, so instead we all have to freeze our asses off along the beach. It’s mid-October now and even though the days are still quite warm, the nights are cool and breezy.
The Four Horsemen : A Servite Academy For Troubled Teens Novel Page 18