The Ruthless Boys (Adamson All-Boys Academy #2)

by C. M. Stunich

  “I know this is a little weird, honey,” Mom starts, but I’m already backing up another step. Mr. Dave’s dark eyes track my movements before flicking toward the street and back again. Is he looking for his accomplices? Is he checking out the security detail that followed me and Mom over here tonight?

  “It’s more than just a little weird,” I tell her, turning my attention back to Ian Dave. I mean, what kind of a name is that?! It’s as fake as press-on nails. “This is creepy. You know that someone attacked me at the school, right? And I don’t mean Adamson, I mean SCHS. And during a week when Mr. Dave was absent.”

  “Are you accusing Ian of something?” Mom asks, sounding delightfully befuddled. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Charlotte,” Mr. Dave begins, and I’m shocked at his lack of surprise at my gender reveal until I remember that he knew. He knew all along, even when he wasn’t supposed to. “I promise you that this thing with your mother was unplanned. Honestly, it’s a bit inappropriate, but—”

  “Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom,” I blurt, turning and heading into the restaurant. I’m in a slight daze as I search for, and find, the ladies’ restroom, slipping inside and bolting the door behind me. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,” I grumble as I dial up Ranger’s phone. I’m not sure why, out of all the guys, he’s the one I pick to call first. It just happens.

  “Charlotte?” he asks, his voice edgy and dark. “Is everything okay?”

  “My mom is dating Mr. Dave. He is her new boyfriend. They tried to feed me some bullshit lie about how she met him when he came down here to visit family in December, but seriously?! I’m not stupid. You don’t just accidentally find one of your student’s mothers in Los Angeles when you live in fucking Nutmeg, Connecticut.”

  “We’ll be right there,” Ranger says, but I don’t see what difference that would make. It’s not like Mr. Dave came here tonight as himself to kill me.

  “No, no, that’s not necessary,” I say, rubbing the bridge of my nose with my fingers. “Let me just go to dinner with this asshole, and see if he gives anything away.”

  “Are you sure?” Ranger asks, the jingling of keys in the background a possible indication he’s already on his way.

  “I’ve got the security detail, we’re in a crowded restaurant, I’ll be fine.” I exhale and lean back against the wall. “Just … keep your phone on you in case anything happens, okay?”

  “Got it,” he says, and then there’s this long, awkward pause where it feels like Ranger might say something important. Instead, all I get is: “Stay safe, and text updates.” And then he hangs up. With a sigh, I tuck my phone in my pocket and head out the door to find Mr. Dave and Mom already waiting at a table nearby.

  “Are you okay?” Mom asks as I sit down and open my menu, returning Mr. Dave’s signature glare with one of my own. This guy is the meanest, orneriest librarian I’ve ever met, and trust me, I’ve met some real winners. One time, this librarian at a school book fair beat me with a fly swatter for wrinkling a page in a picture book.

  “Fine,” I say, forcing a smile as I bury my face in my menu.

  For the first half of dinner, Mom tries to get us to talk to each other, coaxing reluctant answers out of us both. The conversation goes nowhere, and eventually she just settles in to flirt and chat with Ian while I stab my fork into my admittedly delicious cheesecake and pretend not to be listening.

  Unfortunately, it’s Mom who does most of the talking, and by the time dinner is over, I’ve got no new information from Ian, no clues.

  He walks us outside and helps us into a cab before giving Mom the most passionate goodbye kiss I’ve ever seen. My mouth drops open, and I swear, Mr. Dave smirks at me before he closes the door and the taxi takes off down the street.

  “What’d you think?” Mom asks, turning to look at me, and taking my hands in hers. I give her my most skeptical look, one that I’ve been perfecting since I was five. It very clearly says are you fucking serious right now?

  “Mom, the guy is a creep. He’s clearly a stalker.” I throw my arm out for emphasis. “How does a teacher from my school end up dating my mom? And after a student was murdered?”

  “Your father said it was a suicide,” is her only response, her lips pursed in a pouty sort of expression. “And sometimes fate takes a hand in a person’s life, Charlotte.”

  “I don’t believe in fate,” I murmur, crossing my arms over my chest and exhaling. “But I do believe in murderers and stalkers and psycho librarians following me across the country to hang me with a noose.”

  “Would you stop being so dramatic?” Mom groans, putting the heel of her hand to her forehead. “I like this guy—a lot. And I’m not going to stop seeing him without a valid reason. Just because you don’t like the way we met, that doesn’t mean he’s a killer.”

  I clamp my lips tight and turn toward the window. I’m done arguing with her tonight.

  Mr. Dave is involved in Jenica’s murder, in Eugene’s murder, and I’m going to fucking prove it.

  Friday cannot come fast enough. I’m literally counting down the seconds. It’s not that I don’t like spending time with my mom, but I swear, every other day there’s some activity involving Ian Dave. But I can’t bail, not when Mom’s taken off the week to spend time with me. I know from an overheard conversation between her and Dad that he gave her extra money to help with the bills and our outings.

  So I tough it out, and we get our nails done, have a picnic at the park, and go to the La Brea Tar Pits together. It’s not a bad visit overall, but the apartment is small and stuffy, and doesn’t feel like home. For some reason, it just makes me miss Adamson all that much more.

  “That’s a lovely dress,” Mom says when I come out of the bathroom in a pink cocktail dress with nude pumps, and a sparkly little purse that Ranger picked out. I swear, the guy’s addicted to cute things. His cheeks turn pink when he sees something he likes, and then if you try to call him out on it, he gets pissy as hell.

  “Thank you,” I say, putting my hand over my belly to quiet down the butterflies. Dinner with the parents is never easy, especially not when you’ve got more than boyfriend to worry about. “Do I look okay?”

  “You’re my daughter, aren’t you?” she says, and I smile.

  There’s a knock on the door, and I find myself sucking in a sharp breath to calm the nerves before I go to open it.

  The door swings wide, and there they are, standing in a group, all dressed in sharp suits and ties. My mouth drops open, and I’m left staring dumbstruck as Spencer puts a huge bouquet of roses in my arms. Well hello, Adamson Student Council.

  “Good to see you, too,” he says, flashing a grin.

  “Good evening, Chuck,” the twins say in unison.

  Ranger offers up a single pink tulip, while Church gives me an appreciative once-over.

  “I have to say, our last assistant was nowhere near as attractive.”

  My cheeks flush, and I sputter for a moment, but Church is just … well, flirty like that. Sometimes. I mean, when he’s not acting like a stone-cold sociopath or psychopath or whatever. “He’s probably in love with you.” Micah’s words flicker in my mind for a moment, but I brush them aside.

  “Thank you guys for coming,” I say as I glance over and find a limo waiting for us.

  Ah, yes, the perks of dating rich dudes.

  You won’t find me complaining.

  “Mom, you remember the boys?” I say, taking her arm as she comes to the door.

  “Right. Three of them are your boyfriends, and the other two are …”

  “Just friends,” Ranger supplies, answering my mother’s question before I get a chance to. He turns and heads down the stairs, and the rest of us follow.

  “He’s been cranky since the Mr. Dave thing,” Tobias whispers, taking my left hand and making Spencer scowl. “He’s so fucking worried about you. Told you he’d turn you into Jenica.”

  “Into his sister, right,” I say, as we all crowd inside the limo
and Church presents my mother with a bottle of what must be very expensive champagne. Her eyes light up and her cheeks flush.

  “Thank you, I’d love a glass, but I can’t,” she says. “I’m still in recovery, and even though alcohol was never my vice, I’ll have to stick with lemon water tonight.”

  “Completely understandable,” Church says, and then he pours himself a glass, which Mom doesn’t particularly appreciate considering he’s underage. But I suppose you can’t tell a seventeen-nearly-eighteen year old that he can’t drink the expensive champagne in the back of his own limo. Or, well, I’m just assuming this car belongs to the Montagues. But in reality, it could be any of the guys’.

  “Mrs. Carson, is it? Or do you prefer to be called Eloise?” Church ask, and I narrow my eyes on him. He’s putting the whole parent-schmoozing act on again which, to be quite honest, my mother is twice as likely to fall for as my father. And considering he bought it hook, line, and sinker, Mom is doomed.

  “Eloise is great, or even Ms. Reitman. I’m changing my name back. It’s about time, seeing as we’ve been divorced for four years and all.” Mom falls silent and glances over at me like she expects me to throw some sort of fit over that. I’ll admit, when my parents first got divorced, I was heartbroken, but I’ve come a long way since then. She’d know that, if she’d been around to see it. “Actually, I’ve got a new man in my life, so really, it’s only appropriate.”

  “You’re not thinking of marrying that guy, are you?” I ask, because it’s one thing for my mother to be dating, and a whole other for her to be into a guy who could very well be a serial killer. Or wait, do you have to kill more than two people to be a serial killer? And then there are at least three accomplices involved in all this … Ugh. I rub my hand over my face.

  “Not yet, Charlotte, but I like to keep an open mind.” Mom smiles and pushes some ringlets back from her face, her brown eyes scanning the boys fanned out across the seats. “Now, if you marry three boys, whose last name do you take?” she asks, and then laughs like she actually thinks it’s a funny joke.

  “It’s not medieval times anymore, Mom. You don’t take anyone’s name. You just cohabitate with your three lovers and share a checking account.”

  “Charlotte,” she reprimands, giving me a look. “Don’t be like that. I was just playing with you.”

  “What do you do for work?” Spencer asks, clearing his throat, and trying to participate in the conversation. It’s awkward as hell, but at least he looks good in the charcoal gray suit and turquoise tie that matches his eyes.

  “I’m a maid for a large chain hotel,” Mom says, and the twins exchange a look. My cheeks color, but I don’t look at them. Maybe they’re putting two and two together, like when I tried to wash my own dishes at their place, or how I hate leaving my tray in the cafeteria for someone else to clean …

  Or fuck.

  It didn’t occur to me until just now, but … maybe they’re wondering other things about me? What if they think I’m a gold-digger? What if they think I’m not good enough for them because of my mom?

  It’s suddenly hard to breathe, and I’m beyond grateful when we get to the restaurant, and there’s a spare moment for me to slip away into the bathroom. For several minutes, I just lean my head back against the wall and try to calm my racing heart.

  When I step out into the hall, the twins are waiting.

  They put an arm up on either side of the door as it slams closed behind me.

  “What?” I ask, feeling my face burn as they scrutinize me. “What do you want? Can’t I take a piss in peace?”

  “You’re running from us,” Tobias says, and I open my mouth to protest. Micah puts a finger to my lips to quiet me, and shakes his head.

  “No, you ran away. Why?” He looks me dead in the face with those sharp green eyes of his, but I don’t know what to say. That I’m suddenly feeling self-conscious? That I’ve realized how ridiculous it is for a poor girl with a maid for a mom and a teacher for a father to have not one, not two, but three rich, hot guys interested in her?

  “This isn’t a reverse harem,” I blurt, and the twins exchange a look.

  “Huh?” they ask, glancing back at me.

  “I mean, it’s … there’s no happy ending for me in this, is there?” I don’t know where all of this is coming from, but I feel suddenly overwhelmed by it. I’m probably about to start my period or something. No, no, that’s bullshit, blaming my emotions on my cycle. I’m just having a moment. I think we all have them sometimes, don’t we? One of those moments where you just feel sick and sad and like the whole world is against you.

  “What are you talking about?” Tobias asks, reaching out to brush some hair from my face. “Is this about Mr. Dave and your mom?”

  “No, it’s about … me, and you, and you,” I look over at Micah, “and the fact that my mom’s a maid. My dad’s just the headmaster of your high school. You guys are all destined for big and better things, and I’m just a C student who hasn’t even applied to any colleges yet. You probably think I’m some sort of gold-digger.”

  “I think you cut yourself short, Chuck,” Micah says, studying me with a far more serious gaze than I’m used to. “What do your parents’ jobs have to do with you? And trust me, if you were a gold-digger, you would’ve been a lot nicer to us right off the bat.” He smiles, and it’s got that edge to it that it always does, but there’s a deeper, softer quality to his expression that makes me feel weak at the knees. “We don’t need to date a girl with money; we have plenty of it. And you’re more than just a C student. You’re somebody with big enough balls,” he pauses, mulls that over for a moment, continues, “with big enough ovaries to come waltzing into a school full of old-money assholes and start throwing your weight around. You’re one tough chick, Charlotte Carson.”

  “And besides, Micah and I are just troublemaking spoiled brats who partied too hard and got shipped off to our father’s old school to keep us out of trouble. We don’t have any particular interests or skills, like Ranger with his baking, and we also haven’t applied to any colleges.”

  “You guys will just get in because of, like, money and shit though anyway, right?” I ask with a small laugh. There are tears in my eyes, but I’m not sure why. The twins shrug.

  “Probably. But we could get you in, too?” They both push up off the doorjamb and stand up straight. “We were thinking … Bornstead U.”

  “Bornstead?” I ask, cocking a brow. “Like in Colorado? Why?”

  “It’s a good school, and it’s neither here nor there,” Tobias says, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the bathroom, like that somehow might indicate Connecticut. “I mean, why not? It’s a beautiful campus. My mother once taught a seminar there, and we stayed with her for a few days and had a blast.”

  “That’s assuming we even stay friends through senior year, considering the long-distance thing and all that …” I trail off, and the twins exchange another glance before turning back to me.

  “Have a little faith, Chuck,” Tobias says, forcing a smile and pushing his red hair off his forehead. The twins are dressed in matching navy suits with red ties. They look like they’re cosplaying—dressing up like a character from a movie, anime, book, video game, etc.—but I like it. I’m getting serious Ouran High School Host Club vibes again. “If Church says he has an idea, it’s a good one.”

  I nod, and then move to step forward, but the twins hook their arms with mine, while Micah opens the bathroom door. Then they’re dragging me back and into it before closing it behind us and flicking the lock.

  “What are you doing?” I whisper as they both drop down and put a hand on my hip, pushing me against the wall. They each put a hand under my skirt and yank my panties down to the floor. “My mother is out there …”

  “So?” they ask, encouraging me to spread my legs slightly. And then they take turns leaning in and using their tongue in places I promise you, I have never had a tongue before. It feels so good that I end up biting down on my
hand to keep quiet.

  When we finally make our way out of there, the rest of the table is waiting with drinks and appetizers.

  “We took the liberty of ordering for you, seeing as you were inevitably detained,” Church drawls, waving his hand dismissively. “Since I know Micah and Tobias are huge fans of escargot, I made sure to order them each a plate of their own for dinner.”

  “You piece of shit,” Tobias growls, sitting down on his right side, Micah beside him. Ranger is next, then Spencer, me, Mom, and back to Church again. Just one big, happy family. “We’re allergic to escargot.”

  “What’s escargot?” my mom asks cheerily, and I facepalm a little.

  “Snails,” Spencer answers for me, giving me and the twins a narrow-eyed look.

  “You’re allergic to snails?” I ask, lifting my head up and glancing over at the twins. They’re both buttering slices of bread in perfect unison which is pretty goddamn impressive.

  “We are,” they say, but somehow I feel they’re full of shit.

  “Nobody’s allergic to snails,” I retort, and they both shrug, grinning but not looking at me. All the better since I just had a double twin orgasm in the restroom. Hopefully nobody notices. Pretty sure everybody but Mom does, which at least is a small blessing in and of itself.

  “We’re allergic to squid, too,” they say. “And octopus.”

  “They just have unrefined palettes, and prefer to stick to hamburgers and fries,” Church supplies as Ranger casts me a sympathetic sort of look.

  “Just ignore them,” he says, and then redirects the conversation with that dark voice of his. “So, Eloise, tell us more about your new boyfriend.” Ranger’s sapphire eyes slide to mine. “We were just discussing their second date—to the shooting range. Apparently Ian is one hell of a shot.” My eyes widen, and I glance back at Mom as she begins to wax poetic about our school’s asshole librarian. At the same time, I lift my purse to the table, intending to dig around in it for my lip balm. Instead, I end up accidentally spilling it onto my bread plate.