"Come on," she motioned, grabbing our shoes with one hand. "We need to leave, pronto." I followed her to the window, skeptically eyeing the oak tree's branches right outside my room. She slid over the railing with no problem, holding out her hand for me. "Come on, scaredy cat. I've got you."
Excitement flooded my stomach, and I realized I wanted to do this. For once, I wanted to forget about my miserable life and just enjoy myself. I reached over for her hand and let her pull me onto the branches of the old tree. We were giggling softly as we climbed down the ladder the previous family who lived here had put on the tree for their kids. In moments, we were on the ground, running around the corner to where Romilly's Land Rover was parked. We got in the car, and before I'd even managed to shut the driver's door, she was already driving off.
"Where's this party, anyway?" quizzed her on the way over.
"Downtown. You're going to love it." She smiled at me apologetically. "Just a way to make up for what papa did. I wish I could have stopped him."
"I don't think anyone could have," I admitted.
"We're going to," she assured me. "We'll find a way for the three of us to get away. How did the visit go with abuelita?"
"Good. She told us something that could be of interest..." I launched into an explanation of the conversation abuela had overheard over papa's phone.
"Hmm. You should get Milo on that," Romilly suggested.
"What do you mean?"
"Isn't he like some kind of tech genius?" she asked, and I shrugged non-comittally. "Well, I think you should ask him to find out what it means. If we discover some discrepancies in papa's business, at least we'll have some leverage."
"I don't want to rely on Milo's help," I admitted.
"Has he offered?"
"Yeah."
"Then just accept it," Romilly advised me. "Trust me. Everyone needs help once in a while. It doesn't make you less of a person if you accept it. And we both know that Earnshaw boy would do anything for you." She winked at me, but didn't elaborate, and I was grateful for it. The last thing I needed was to be reminded that I'd chosen the wrong boy. And that the one I really wanted probably hated me, and it was all my fault.
Just then, we pulled up to a bustling street downtown. Romilly let the valet take her car after we'd put our shoes on, and grinned at me. "Come on, little sis. Time to have some fun."
I followed her to the door, where the bouncer barely glanced at me before opening the red rope that separated mere mortals from the entrance to the bar. Romilly winked at me, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me inside the building. It was a different world in there, with dimmed lights and music playing at the perfect, intimate volume. The place was huge, and packed. Romilly headed straight for the bar where she ordered a mojito for herself, and a virgin pina colada for me, giving me a strict look.
"No drinking. And I mean it."
"Fine," I muttered, accepting my delicious-looking drink and taking a long slip through the metal straw. "Hey, sis. Thanks for bringing me tonight."
"You're welcome." She bumped her hip against mine. "I thought you might need a distraction."
Ain't that the truth. She guided me over to her friends sitting in the corner and introduced them one after the other. The faces and names all blended together. They were all beautiful, ridiculously rich, and decked out in brand names from head to toe. As soon as Romilly arrived, they greeted her with whooping and hugs. I was accepted right away, just for being her sister. It made me look at her with admiration. She'd always been a badass, but out here, she was a badass queen, not a servant like we all were at home. Eternal servants, fearing papa's wrath every single second of the day.
After an hour of Romilly's friends chatting, I got bored. I sauntered to the bar after finishing my drink, feeling several pairs of eyes following me. I straightened my back, pushed out my boobs and butt and batted my lashes at the bartender. He didn't even ask for my ID, just slid a regular pina colada across the counter at me. I settled on the bar stool, drinking in the scene before me. Romilly disappeared a while ago with a cute guy, but not before shooting me warning glances that I'd chosen to ignore. One drink isn't going to hurt anyone. Nor is the second, or third one...
“What’s your poison of choice tonight?” I turned back toward the bar, my eyes drinking in the handsome stranger who had talked me up. He was older by at least ten years, with thick light brown hair and dark brown eyes. He towered over me even sitting down, and I felt a flutter in my stomach as he grinned at me.
“Pina colada,” I said, motioning to my drink.
“Ah,” he laughed. “The tell-tale sign of a girl that’s much too young to be in a place like this at this time of night.”
“Are you going to tell on me?” Worry twisted my stomach into knots, but the man just shook his head, smirking at me.
“Now what would be the fun in that, pretty one?” I stirred my drink, keeping my eyes focused on him as I took another sip. “Although I do think it’s slightly shocking - and almost criminal - that you’re sipping on a sub-par cocktail.”
“I like it.”
“You’ll like this more.” He pushed my drink away and motioned for the bartender to come over. I’d had to wait to order my drink, but the man commanded attention, and he didn’t have to wait for longer than a few seconds. “A Rum and Coke for the lady, and rum on the rocks for me. Your finest. None of that Captain Morgan bullshit.”
I giggled as the bartender prepared our drinks, examining the stranger out of the corner of my eye. “You seem to know your alcohol.”
“Goes with the job.”
“What do you do?”
“I manage this place. It’s my father’s company, and I own the chain. This is our third club in the state.”
“That’s amazing!” I accepted the drink from the bartender and took a long sip. The booze was definitely stronger in this drink, going straight to my head. “Oh my God, and so is this. So good.”
“I’m glad you approve.” He swirled the amber liquid in his own glass, appreciatively eyeing my outfit before he took a long sip. “You look pretty delicious, too. Has anyone had a taste yet?”
“I… Err.” I laughed nervously. “It’s not really like that. I’m here with my sister.”
“I see.” His eyes were still drinking me in, and from the way he looked at me, I thought he definitely liked what he saw. “Who is your sister, pretty one?”
“Romilly.” I put my glass back down. “She goes by Hernandez, but our last name is Hawthorne.”
“I’m sure there’s a story behind that.”
“There is,” I sighed. “But I’d rather not get into it now, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course. There are plenty of other things I’d rather discuss with you. For example, what’s that delightful perfume you’re wearing?”
I thought back to Romilly dragging me out of my room. “I’m not wearing any…”
“Perfect.” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “All you. Just what I wanted to hear.”
I dug around in my purse for my old phone, suddenly flush with embarrassment. He was so straight-forward, nothing like the boys at Wildwood, and definitely nothing like Natan. Or Milo, for that matter. “Sorry, I just next to check if anyone’s called me.” I stared at the empty screen, pretending to see something there.
“So, what’s your name, pretty one?” the man asked. “I’ve been inredibly rude and haven’t even introduced myself properly yet. My name is Harlan.”
“Estella,” I squeaked, hating myself for the obvious insecurity in my voice. I was used to interacting with highschoolers, but this was a different ballgame altogether. “Estella Hawthorne.”
“A pleasure to meet you. And such a beautiful name, too. So perfectly fitting.”
I blushed as he downed his drink and followed suit by finishing mine as well. He gave me an appreciative glance as he motioned for the waiter to bring us more. My eyes scanned the crowd and settled on a figure that was staring right at me. Romilly. “I
think my sister is looking for me. Would you mind if I just run over and talk to her for a second?”
“You don’t have to,” he told me. “If this is about getting you home, I’ll make sure you get back alright.”
“I… Um, she’s my ride,” I mumbled uncomfortably.
“Don’t worry about that.” He waved his hand dismissively in the air. “I’ll make sure everything goes smoothly. Just stay with me…”
I slid off my chair, giving him an apologetic glance. “I’ll only be a second.”
“Alright, if you must.”
I left him sitting by the bar and rushed to where my sister was standing in the VIP area. Her arms were crossed and she looked worried, hissing at me as I approached. “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?”
“Harlan?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder. The man’s eyes were glued to me, following my every step. “Yeah, we just met… I think he actually owns this place.”
“Damn right he does,” Romilly nodded. “And he’s the reason I’m here tonight as well, since he paid for me to come. Don’t fuck things up for me, Stells.”
“I wasn’t,” I defended myself. “I was just talking to him. Besides, he approached me, not the other way around.”
“That’s the other thing.” Romilly pulled me in closer to whisper in my ear. “I hear that guy’s kind of a dick. Stay away from him.”
I snuck another glance over my shoulder to find Harlan accepting our drinks from the bartender. “Jeez, would you calm down? He’s been nothing but polite since we started talking.”
“Trust me, Stells.” Romilly took me by the shoulders. “Guys like him are after one thing, and it’s something you shouldn’t give him. You know what I mean?”
“I think the entire bar knows what you mean,” I muttered. “Fine, Romilly, whatever.”
“Estella.” She motioned for me to look back. I glanced behind in time to see Harlan mixing my drink with a metal straw. “Why do you think he’s mixing your drink?”
“Probably so it’s cold when I get back?” I shrugged. “What does it even matter?”
“He’s doing it because he slipped something in there,” Romilly hissed. “God, I shouldn’t have brought you here.” She rummaged in her purse and pulled out a hundred dollar bill. “Here, for your cab ride home.”
“Why?” I furrowed my brows. “Where are you going?”
She had the decency to flush before motioning to the group of friends standing behind her. “I’m leaving with my friends.”
“Wow.” I swallowed the bitter pill of her betrayal. “So much for our fun sisters’ night out, Romi.”
“Stells, you’re too young to come with us,” she insisted. “And I don’t want you hanging around that Harlan guy either, okay?”
“Whatever,” I muttered, feeling more excluded than ever. “At least he treats me like an adult.”
“Exactly,” my sister sighed. “And he shouldn’t, because you’re seventeen. I never should have brought you here in the first place. Promise you’re going to leave soon, Stells?”
I gritted my teeth together, hating how she was pressuring me. “Whatever, fine, I promise.” I crossed my fingers behind my back. Like hell was I going to do what she asked of me. She was the one who brought me there, anyway. “So you’re leaving?”
“Yeah.” She kissed my cheek. “Don’t tell papa.”
I rolled my eyes, but still felt that familiar twist in my stomach as I watched her wave and leave. She’d abandoned me, and it only made me feel more alone than ever.
A moment later, I turned on my heel and walked back to the bar. Harlan smiled wide when he saw me approaching. “How nice to have you back, pretty one. For a moment, I was worried I’d lost you.”
“No, not yet.” I smiled. “My sister’s going somewhere else, and apparently I’m not invited.”
“Is that so?” he chuckled. “Well, I’ll take good care of you, pretty one. No need to worry.”
I sat back down on the bar stool and dug my phone out of my purse yet again, muttering an apology to Harlan. He seemed annoyed, but gave me a curt nod as I started typing a text.
I’m at bar Heartbreak. If I haven’t texted you back in an hour, something’s wrong.
I fired off the text before turning back to Harlan and smiling wide. “This my drink?”
“It is indeed,” he nodded. Was I imagining the twinkle in his eyes as I picked up the drink? Had my sister been right about him putting something in my glass? “What do you say we head to the VIP room, Estella?”
“Sure,” I nodded, eyeing the drink again. There were tiny bits floating in the liquid, like dust. “Let me just finish my drink.”
My heart was pounding as I downed it all. A voice in my head reminded me nobody cared what happened to me, anyway. Not Romi, not my parents, and not even my boyfriend. The only one who’d ever watched over me was Milo, and he hadn’t even bothered to reply to my text. I felt the need to self-destruct. To ruin everything and show the people around me how much they’d hurt me.
I put the empty glass down on the bar and reached out to Harlan. “I’m ready.”
12
Date: September 12th, 2019, 11 p.m.
Location: Miss James’ house
Milo
“Fuck.” I bit my bottom lip as her fingers wrapped around my cock. I was throbbing already, feeling my veins pulse with the desperate need for her to pull down my jeans and expose my hardness. Miss James licked her lips, glancing at me before sliding to the floor, on her knees. Just then, my phone vibrated, and I groaned, picking it up from the table and glancing at the screen.
I’m at bar Heartbreak. If I haven’t texted you back in an hour, something’s wrong.
“Everything okay?” Miss James asked breathlessly, and I put my phone away, closing my eyes to block everything out. Why did Estella always have to come out of the woodwork when things were finally going somewhere? It was like she wanted to fuck with my head.
“Everything’s great,” I groaned. “Keep fucking going.”
She didn’t need to be told twice. Her fingers wrapped around my belt buckle, and she undid the zip of my pants afterward, sliding over the outline of my cock beneath the fabric. “Milo…”
“Keep going,” I ordered her again. “I want you to see it. Take it out.”
Her eyes widened as she pulled my cock out. Alarm bells were going off in my head, but I put them all on the backburner, doing my best to ignore the pounding in my chest. But I couldn’t get Estella off my mind.
“You’re so big,” Miss James whispered, staring at me throb in her hand. “Fuck, I don’t know if you’re going to fit inside me.”
A desperate need to pump the brakes erupted in my mind, but I felt frozen to the spot. My mind wanted her to stop, but my cock didn’t, judging by the way it throbbed between her dainty fingers. Estella appeared in my mind yet again, taunting me with her big doll-like eyes, her plump lips forming in the shape of my name.
“I have to go.” I got up, and Miss James’ hands fell away from me as if she’d been burned.
“Why?” she asked breathlessly, her fingers lingering over her flame red hair, her flushed chest. “Please don’t leave now, Milo… I know this was wrong, so wrong.”
I didn’t comment, just zipped myself up and grabbed my phone from the table. “It’s okay, Miss James.”
“I told you to call me-”
“I can’t call you that,” I interrupted her, cringing at how cruel I sounded. “Trust me, you’re every Wildwood’s wet-fucking-dream come to life, but I… I can’t.”
“Is it because of…” She flushed. “Because I work at your school?”
“No.” I motioned to my phone. “My friend is in trouble.”
“Oh.” She got up too, straightening her dress out. “I’m sorry, Milo… Is there anything I can do to help?”
“It’s fine,” I muttered, rushing to the door. “I just need to get out of here.”
“Is it Natan?” she called o
ut after me, making me stop in my tracks. “The friend who’s in trouble, is it your brother?”
“No.” I hesitated before telling her the truth. “It’s Estella.”
“Hawthorne?” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Milo, why are you helping that girl? She’s done nothing for you.”
“She’s done more than you know!” I lashed out, regretting it in an instant and rubbing the bridge of my nose. “Look. I’m sorry. I just know I need to leave now.”
She nodded mutely, and followed me to the door. I didn’t say another word as I walked to my car and reversed out of her driveway. I didn’t even look back, but something told me she watched me leave until my car was nothing but a dot on the horizon.
* * *
Heartbreak was packed, and I quickly realized I stood out - and not in a good way. These people were dressed in designer clothes and brands, and it seemed to be attracting a crowd that was a little older than me. By the time I found a spot to park in on the street, I was plagued with worry and my heart was going a million miles a minute as I walked up to the bouncer, a huge guy with a shaved head and a goatee. I tried to walk inside, but he stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.
“Line’s all the way back there, bud,” he told me in an Irish accent, eyeing me suspiciously. “Are you sure you’re old enough to be here?”
“I need to get in,” I told him. “My friend texted me and I’m worried she’s in trouble.”
“Entry fee’s two-hundred-fifty. And I need some ID.”
“Two-fifty? Are you fucking serious?” I glared at him, but the man didn’t budge. I groaned, pulling out my wallet and getting out three hundred-dollar bills. “Will this take care of it? I don’t have an ID on me.”
He eyed me suspiciously. “I have a feeling you’re going to make trouble for me, kid. You got another couple hundreds?”
I glared at him before saying, “No, but I will fucking call every member of my lacrosse team and trash this place if you don’t let me in right. The fuck. Now.”
Boys That Read: A High School Romance Page 10