Here Lies a Saint: A Dark Bully Academy Romance Page 13

  "Don't be a dick, Ridge. It's not like I know why the fuck I'm moving out or why they picked me for a scholarship I never applied for," I complain.

  He gawks at me as if I'm a child. His nostrils flare a bit. It's the only indication he isn't happy about something.

  Could be me.

  Could be the situation.

  Either way, he's only able to hide so much from me before I claw it out of him.

  "Don't call me that," he finally speaks, fixing his expressions to icy indifference.

  "Ridge?" I muse. "That's your name." It comes out mockingly, exactly what I wanted to offer him after he's been a dick to me. He chose to help Elijah.

  "It's not," he hisses, getting into my face. We're so close that he's stealing my oxygen, corrupting it with his carbon, forcing me to breathe slower.

  "Why not?" I taunt. "I'm just Freak to you now. Or Colt... Am I not?" Moving back onto my elbows, I give him nothing but sass. He can get angry at me, point out that I only call him his nickname when I'm unhappy, but he gets to call me Freak and Colt? Not in this lifetime.

  He closes his eyes. A tremble hits his frame like a mini earthquake. When they open again, the black starless expression hits me in the ribs, digging for that organ beneath. If anyone could get to it by simply staring, it would be him.

  Twisting away from me, he leaves, and I hear his phone ring soon after. Letting out a huff, I go back to packing my shit, but when silence greets me ten minutes later, curiosity gets the better of me.

  Aggressive whispering meets my ears. The onslaught of curse words and hatred are like a pendulum, knocking back and forth, telling me my doom is to come, my life is going to end, and these fuckers are going to be my undoing.

  “She will find out if we aren’t careful,” I hear Bridger saying on the phone. “You’re being super fucking stupid, Jay.”

  Who is Jay? And why does it feel like he’s talking about me?

  “No, I’m not fucking doing this anymore. Do you know what is at stake—” He grips his hair. “I didn't sign up for this shit!”

  The way he roars out that last bit makes me jump, and that makes Bridger very aware of me standing nearby.

  His head turns to me, his black eyes leveling with mine. “I’ve gotta go.”

  It was directed to whoever is on the phone. After he tucks it into his pocket, he comes toward me with a new gleam in his eyes.

  Urgency.

  Heat.

  Distraction.

  These boys are good at that, thinking they can fill me up on their dicks, weed, and food, and I won’t notice they’re hiding shit. I don't even know why I’m here, risking my life for secrets I’m no closer to getting. Not that this, right now, is my choice in the least. They stole that from me, and somehow, I let them.

  It was a mistake, falling back into whatever the hell this was.

  What if they killed Cass?

  What if they’re the reason he’s buried six feet deep?

  My soul screams for salvation and peace, and as Bridger grabs me and swallows down my words with his mouth, I’m frozen to the spot. He lifts me and pours me onto the couch. With amble fingers, he lifts my dress, pulling my boy shorts to the side, fingering me harshly soon after.

  It’s the first time he’s initiated anything.

  Touch.

  Desire.

  Want.

  And it’s so fucking wrong that even though I’m moaning around his two digits buried inside me, I’m cringing that he’s not mine. He shouldn’t be touching me.

  “Shouldn’t listen to other people’s conversations, Freak,” he bites.

  I push at his chest for using that nickname, but he doesn’t move. He’s massive and unfazed. He smiles evilly, that devilish glint scaring me. Bridger isn’t normal when he smiles. There’s no kindness behind the gesture. It’s all cruel and calculated, like an insane asylum patient with uncontrollable laughter. Unnatural. Unsettling. Unwelcome.

  “Shouldn’t take calls while babysitting me,” I argue. “It made me nosy.”

  "Tell me, Freak. Do you take everyone's fingers like a cock, or am I special?"

  I hear the sound of my slap across his face before I feel it on my burning palm.

  "Don't touch me," I cry, tears welling in my eyes. He's being hateful and callous to distract me from the fact that he spoke to someone on the phone about me. Bridger might be an asshole on his best days, but intentionally being a fuckface isn't his MO.

  "You can't resist me. Just admit you're a slut for my fingers. Hell, for all of theirs too."

  Those last words do me in. My tears come, and like the fucking sadist he is, he leans down, licking my cheek, tasting each one.

  “I love it when you cry, Starless. Your tears feed my monster.” His hand comes to my lips, smearing my wetness across my mouth like lipstick, degrading me further. His other finds its happy place against my trachea, bringing a sneer to his lips when crashing them down against me.

  Bringing his hand back down between my thighs, he rubs fast at my clit. Too aggressively to be comfortable but too gentle to stop me from coming for him. Pressure builds as he slips in two fingers, harsh and jerky, all while he presses my throat.

  I hate him so much.

  Tears keep streaming, and he smiles with his satanic lips and keeps eating each one like they’re the only thing keeping him alive. Pulling on my hood piercing, he thrusts his fingers into me frantically.

  “Come for me,” he demands.

  I scoff. “No.”

  “Don’t act like you aren’t a slut for me, Colton. You like it when I hurt you. Your cunt gets snugger and wetter. It grips me with each pull. You’re desperate for the pain I bring you. Just fucking admit it.”

  “No,” I hiss as he rubs faster, my slickness sliding all over.

  But then it starts happening. I feel myself teetering over the cliff of a hate orgasm with someone who's intentionally fucking with my head. As soon as I start to erupt, he pulls his fingers out and jumps back.

  "Now get your shit before I leave you the fuck behind."

  “Then leave me behind. I never asked to come anyway!”

  Right as the door closes behind him, I adjust myself and sob, knowing he just used me, and as much as I hate him for it, I just want to know who the fuck he was distracting me from.

  I will make them all fucking pay.

  Black talons, icy bones, and an unbeating heart... all the things I have to win this war.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jordan

  “That wasn’t the plan,” I growl at my father as I’m entering the room he’s staying in at Opal Tower.

  He doesn’t give me annoyance or reprieve. He peers at me as if I’m the scum on his shoe, the bane to his existence, but in his eyes, there’s a twinge of disgust too.

  “Yeah, well, you weren’t getting the job done. You will marry the Krane girl and give me another heir to depend and solidify your future.”

  “That’s dirty money.”

  A derisive laugh leaves my father at my words. “And Emeralds’ money isn’t? You can’t possibly be this dense?” He steps toward me, crossing the room as if it’s his to devour and I’m a puppet to be dangled above a pit of serpents. “Don’t be weak, Jordan. You are an Edgington. Act like it.” He grabs my shoulders, the aggressiveness in his touch feels purposeful.

  “What am I supposed to do now? Winter break is starting. Am I supposed to fuck my new bride at home and try getting her pregnant before graduation, is that it?” My lip curls on its own, hating the thought of touching any woman who isn’t Colt.

  His finger rises, affluent and callous. “That’s exactly what you’ll fucking do. You were born to follow the code, keep us wealthy, and destroy anyone who put a damper on that. Get your shit together. You won’t be a spoiled little prick who gets what he wants without working for it.”

  Sharply, I swallow. My body feels on edge, teetering into oblivion. How do you say no? My father, like many founding family’s will kill me if I don
’t obey.

  They don’t lie when they say your oath is in blood.

  You’re born into it.

  Your consent stripped.

  “Now get your shit packed. We’re leaving after the huge dinner. All founding families are to come, even Colton. Tasha has informed me she won’t be an issue.”

  I don’t move or nod or even blink. The mention of Colt reminds me that she’s forced to come with me. Forced to watch me with Mel. Forced into the Emeralds’ fold without knowing bylaws, names, or anything really.

  This is so fucked up.

  “She’s smart, Tasha. After Cassidy’s unfortunate demise, it’s good she’s staying in line for once. The cunt doesn’t seem to follow any rule,” he spits the last words, his face scrunching in displeasure. “Fucking Hudsons and their power. If she were any other bloodline, she’d be dead.”

  That’s when I let out a breath, thinking of how easily he speaks of murder, as if it’s a simple fact and not a fucking life taken.

  “Don’t act surprised, Jordan. You’re not entirely stupid.”

  A snort of disbelief leaves me. “I need to pack.”

  He waves a hand, the careless act of men with too much money and power. I really wish I’d switched to Cassidy’s side before it was too late.

  Maybe I could have saved him.

  Making my exit nearly silent, I head out the door, hoping no one is waiting for me to attack. It’s not news that Edgingtons aren’t accepted here or many places. We’re an old name, erased from the ledger to be hidden and work behind closed doors. Unlike most families, it wasn’t for shaming the society or doing something despicable. It was a choice.

  “If you touch her, Colt will kill you.”

  I don’t want to stop and look but twist enough to see Lux standing at the door a few down from my parents’. His sadness is visible.

  “What about you?” I prod, knowing this hall, this entire building, is wired. While only current Emeralds are in access, it’s a risky move on both our behalf.

  He trails the hall, coming toward me with a pensive expression. I want to ease his discomfort, and it shocks me that there’s care in my body for him.

  He’s Lennox DeLeon, my friend but also my... enemy.

  There’s only one leader.

  It’ll be me until I die or age out.

  It’s how it works.

  “Let’s talk elsewhere,” he comments, his eyes going toward where one of the many cameras rest. If not for us knowing this building, we wouldn’t know it’s there. They’ve put them in the wall and ceiling, nearly invisible.

  Our silent stagger outside has my body trembling from exhaustion. Since Yang’s death, I’ve felt on edge and drained. Sleep isn’t my friend, nor is it a peaceful reminder that I’m alive.

  It’s as tiring as lack of sleep.

  While many don’t dream, I do. My mind travels to the moment I fucked up, the moment my mind made its first mistake of feeling anything for Lux, Colt, and for the other guys.

  I’d been sent here as a spy, someone to make sure no one fucked up. But that’s the problem, isn’t it? Cass fucked up. He sabotaged where he could, spiraled, and somehow, still was killed.

  Many people would expect me to be the person who told the Vestige about his plan, but I didn’t. I’d been on the cusp of turning to his side, helping him, doing whatever I could for his cause.

  In the end, it didn’t matter.

  Somehow, they found out.

  I didn’t see it coming, and I paid the price by my father’s hands.

  “What do you mean you didn’t know he was betraying us?” His face morphed into a demon’s, the edges of his jaw somehow sharper, the way his hands are raised, ready for my life to slip through his fingers.

  “I didn’t know what he was planning!”

  It’s true. I kept my distance to save us all. If I could be invisible, on the outside, I could maybe save them from their own stupidity.

  No one goes against the Vestige without repercussions.

  That’s why they’ve gotten away with murders, drug deals, liaisons, and everything else shady for years. They have connections and an hide behind their money and power.

  My father’s hand connects with my jaw, the rings on his fingers slicing my skin on his back-swing.

  “You’ll pay for your insolence, son.”

  And I did.

  For nearly a month, I couldn’t walk. In that time, Cassidy was murdered, his funeral had passed, and I’d cut all communication off with every Emerald member.

  They didn’t expect me to come back this year. I could tell in the way they appeared shocked. Not a word from me, a text, or even an announcement from father.

  This year, I’d been given a second chance, but seeing Lux for the first time after months of a drought, it was as if the parched way my throat bobbed told me something had changed between us.

  I wanted him and not in a normal way.

  Whatever changed, I couldn’t let go.

  As soon as we’re outside, Lux turns to me. “Don’t do this.” His words are hushed, a whisper in the vast sunsetting night.

  “Tell me why.”

  His nose crinkles, knowing I’m fishing but unwilling to call me out on it. Yes, I want to hear the words come from him, to know our time together meant more than a quick fuck, even if that’s all either of us will ever admit.

  “Colt won’t forgive you.”

  A cop-out.

  “She’ll get over it.” The response is harsh, but I want him to stop me, to convince me to betray my bloodline, the cause, to risk my life. Anything that tells me what this is between us isn’t just hormones, that somehow, we’ve broken some barrier and I matter.

  “I won’t forgive you.” A dark growl releases him, his eyes connect with mine, and I see the truth there. His possessiveness rolls off him in shockwaves that somehow infiltrate my system.

  “Jealous of a little pussy, Lennox?”

  His shoulders haunch in response. “Do whatever the fuck you want, Jordan, but if you touch her, I’ll never touch your dick again.”

  The way he says it with absolute certainty has my own dick growing in response. Fuck. It’s hot, knowing he’s so jealous of a never-going-to-happen situation.

  My face morphs with the amusement filling me, but that seems to make him angrier.

  “You’re such an asshole.”

  I chuckle, tiredness and elation making me a little crazy. “I think it’s cute.”

  “Cute?” he hisses. Dark shadows cross his face, letting me know he’s close to exploding. Lux is really good at tampering down emotions. He has to be; he’s a DeLeon. They’re all politicians, but right now, his control is nowhere to be seen. “I’m done with this.”

  “Don’t be jealous Lux. Your ass is the only one I want to nestle inside.”

  His face reddens, his cheeks tinting in a way I’ve never experienced. Not even his after-sex perspired face reddens this hue, and it’s glorious, knowing it’s me who does this to him.

  “I’ve got to pack. We have the bloodbath dinner.”

  Lux huffs out a breath. “That’s not what it’s called.”

  “That’s exactly what it is, though, a feast of fuckery where no one knows who will be sold off, traded, or disowned. Hell, death isn’t even off the table.”

  He smiles at that, but I see the trepidation in his gaze. There’s no trust between us, for good reason. “Better get ready, and get Colt on board. If she rebels, she dies.” His voice softens at that, with a keen understanding.

  We all know Cass didn’t kill himself.

  We all know he died fighting for us.

  We all know his memory has not only been tainted but rewritten.

  What we don’t know is how to fix it all.

  How can we?

  He’s gone.

  The knowledge he had died with him.

  “You should check on Ridge. He’s not exactly the best with getting the point across.”

  Our gazes lock, his worry obvious
.

  “Fuck,” he states at the same time the thought hits me.

  Bridger Clemonte isn’t really good at subtlety. He’ll force her if that’s what he has to do.

  Chapter Twenty

  Colt

  “I said fifteen fucking minutes.”

  Bridger’s angered voice wafts through the window, but it’s too late. I’ve snuck out the balcony. I’ve only done this twice ever. If I die, though, I die. YOLO and all that bullshit.

  The fire escape is really close to my room. I just need not to fall. Sticking to the wall, my feet toe the edge, teasing, all while I’m begging to not trip up.

  As I scale the small distance to the escape, I hope Bridger doesn’t realize what I’ve done.

  “Stop playing, Freak.” The grit to his voice goes higher.

  I’m at the escape. Throwing my leg over, I hoist myself and hit the main stairwell. Fuck them.

  With my cards, my stowaway cash, and my bag of essentials—definitely my weed—I rush down the stairs and book it. My chest heaves with exertion. While I’d been taken off insulin, given the go-ahead at food while retraining, exercising still defeats me every time.

  It’s like being the sickest you’ve ever been and trying to do anything but rest. It’s incapacitating. Aches surround me, my legs, my feet, my entire frame as I keep running. Without a car, without a direction, my feet keep propelling me.

  I can’t do this.

  I can’t breathe.

  I can’t.

  Tears rush from me as my mind travels to the assembly. Jordan is engaged to Melissa. Melissa is going to be with two of my guys now.

  Bile rises, and I have to stop to retch. Burning pain resides inside as my body heaves. She’s already touched Bridger, already touched what is mine, and now, she’s taking more.

  While she doesn’t have a choice, fact is still fucking fact.

  Noises sound around me. Footsteps, maybe. I don’t turn to see who or what makes them. I just run. The sun sets in the west, worrying its way into my conscience. When the darkness comes, who will protect me?

  “Stop fucking running! You and I both know I’ve beaten you at every mile, Corpse!”