Here Lies a Saint: A Dark Bully Academy Romance Read online

  Grabbing her by the waist, I bring us a breath apart. I can nearly taste the Jujubes on her tongue. Her guard must be a saint because she’s not allowed snacks.

  “Your guard, is he trying to fuck you?” The words slip free, and I only feel bad for a moment.

  “W-what?” she gasps.

  I glare at her, feeling the first ounce of jealousy and hatred in a while. The last time was when Jordan forced me to admit I cared.

  “Your guard,” I growl, knowing my tone is far crueler than I intended. “The one giving you your favorite candy. Is. He. Fucking. You?”

  She rolls her eyes. “I can’t tell if I’m happy you know my favorite candy or mad that you’d think I’d fuck some random ass dude.”

  “You fucked the twins...” It was a low blow, and I know it, but the venom leaving me isn’t any less factual. She fucked them within a day. That means they were random, and she just decided they were what she wanted.

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Is it not?” I grumble, thinking about how both Just and Pru rubbed it in my face. They hate me, or Pru does. It doesn’t help that Just fucked the dude I thought I loved.

  “The connection I have with them isn’t easily explained. They’re my protectors—”

  I cut her off almost immediately. “Your protectors,” I enunciate, making sure to mock the word, “are Emeralds.”

  “H-how?” She pushes away from me, staring at me with disbelief.

  “You have to have felt it, the shift when they came to Arcadia, the instances where they felt familiar to you all along. Don’t you remember them, Colt? They’ve been around for a long ass time.”

  She shakes her head erratically, her face shifting into confusion then sadness and ending on betrayal. Something clicks with her, allowing her to think about the truth in my words, about how they are suspicious as hell and haven’t really ever hidden that fact from anyone.

  “They can’t be. I’d remember.”

  “Just like you remember Maxim?”

  “Who?” she mumbled, her eyes going left and right. There’s fright in her voice. It’s far too high.

  While she’s holding her chest, I’m staring around the vacant ballroom, wondering how bugged it is. Is it similar to the towers? With cameras everywhere. Or is it more secure? It’s been years since I’ve seen the room where all the TVs are.

  “I don’t know why you don’t remember vital things, Colt. I fucking hate it. Do you even remember Olivia? Carter?”

  She nods on Olivia and shakes on Carter. “Olivia is Ross’ sister.”

  “Do you know how she died, Colton?”

  At her full name, her attention solely rests on me, her eyes wandering my face. It’s as if she knows the words about to leave her mouth aren’t going to be right, but she’s also not trusting. Not that I blame her.

  We all know Cass was killed. We all think we know why, but what I don’t and will never understand is how Colt has erased memories.

  No, it doesn’t make sense, and Cass warned us she’d been through traumatic experiences that caused the dissociation, but right now, asking her questions, it makes complete sense.

  “Didn’t she kill herself?” she asks.

  I laugh derisively, unable to help myself. Of course that’s the memory she clung onto. If I witnessed my best friend’s murder, I would have erased it too.

  “Who was Olivia to you, Colt?”

  Her eyes blink back tears, the tremble in her body worrying me. She doesn’t seem ill anymore. I’m guessing those fake placebo pills the Vestige put her on worked. She thinks she’s broken, but she doesn’t understand she’s being played. It all makes sense without making sense at all.

  “S-she was Rossy’s sister,” she cries, her lip warbling.

  But that’s the thing. Yeah, she was Rossy’s sister. Yes, he loved her and kissed the floor she walked upon, but once upon a time, she and Colt were inseparable.

  I heard the women in the Vestige’s way got extreme therapy to help them conform, but I didn’t think they would fuck with Colton’s brain this much.

  “I-I don’t understand, Lux.”

  Her body shakes, and I pull her to me. It isn’t until I hear a clearing throat that I pull her away.

  “Doesn’t look like you’re teaching her to dance,” Ashton’s voice rings out, making my head pound once more.

  This is too much drama, too many emotions, and too much for me.

  “W-who’s that?” Colt tries correcting her tremble with the question, but like the fucking snake Ashton is, she hones in on it.

  “I’m his stepmom,” she snarks, “but you wouldn’t know that, sweet pea, since you’re inconsequential.”

  “What the fuck is your problem?” Colt’s slightly timid voice breaks away. Her angry and protective nature comes full force, and the pride I feel welling up inside me has me almost hard with admiration.

  Ashton makes a disgusted noise, ambling her way over to us. “Don’t act stuck up to me, emo barbie.”

  “Please have some originality, cunt.”

  My eyes widen, and I can’t help but laugh. Ashton’s heels clack louder as she stands beside us. Her hand reaches for me, and I’ve never recoiled faster. Looking at Colt, I can tell she noticed the change in the air, and she steps in between me and Ashton.

  “Look, bimbo, Lux has shit to do, and whether you’re his side bitch or his mom, you don’t fuck with him.” She places her hands on her hips, never looking hotter than glaring at the monster mom I never asked for. “As for me? I’m a Hudson, and you mind yourself when disrespecting me. I may be new to this founding family bullshit, but I’m well aware of where my family name ranks.”

  Ashton scrunches her face, the look of death and intent clear in her eyes.

  “Before you say what’s on your mind, stepmom,” Colton says snidely, “remember that there’s always a badder bitch.”

  Ashton folds her hands across her fake boobs, acting as if she’s the victim here and not me or Corpse.

  My stomach churns, but I don’t sidestep Corpse. I can’t.

  “Get lost, Ashton. My father isn’t here, and he specifically told me to dance with Colton.”

  She rolls her eyes, placing her hands on her hips, her long nails digging into her dress. Not batting a lash, she grunts noisily and rushes away.

  “Going to tell me what that’s about?” Colt questions, her hand on my jaw in an oddly tender moment that isn’t usual for us.

  “Just another whore seeking money.”

  She shakes her head, not calling me out for the misogynistic comment like she should. “Not that, Lux. There’s something more there. I could tell by the way you froze. I know that look well.”

  Brushing her off, I stand straighter somehow, wanting nothing more than to pretend this didn’t just happen.

  “We need to dance, Corpse. We only have a few hours to train you, or my father is going to flip his shit.”

  She grimaces, and that’s another thing I can tell she gets but shouldn’t.

  As if understanding, she grabs my hands, placing one on her waist and the other in my palm. “I might be a goth, Lennox DeLeon, but my mother forced me to dance young.”

  Chuckling, I bring us closer than a waltz allows and enjoy the press of her against me. “Then these hours will fly by.”

  “I needed this,” she mentions as we start stepping and moving around. The somber tone to her words isn’t lost on me. Her light, even while not the brightest, has dimmed. Exhaustion mars her features, and hope has lost its color. She may think no one notices her or her little traits that show who she is, but I miss nothing.

  “I miss you,” I admit, hating the way she makes me feel weak and insecure but knowing she doesn’t give a single shit about my status or the fact that we’ll never truly be together while the Vestige still stands.

  She doesn’t understand the twins are the chink in her armor, that Ten is desperate for her to see him and stop hating him for his choices, that Ross is lonelier than he’
s ever been and he stopped confiding in me when he found out about Jordan, that Bridger has doubled down with Elijah, forcing us all apart, making it incredibly hard to trust him but also I want him to make a fucking choice too. She knows nothing of the struggles which have happened since she’s left, and we still have two weeks of this middle ground of fog. She doesn’t know, and it’s unfair for me to feel this animosity when it’s not her fault.

  For the first time since Cassidy died, I see her heart break. There’s a pinch to her nose that she does when she’s feeling hurt or upset. It’s one of her tells, and the fact that she’s feeling that means she’s hurting too.

  She pushes into my chest, her head on my shoulder. If not for the little sniffles, I wouldn’t have known she was crying.

  “I miss you, too. All of you.”

  All of you. Not me, Lux, no. All of us.

  It’s something I’m not entirely emotionally ready for. For one, she doesn’t know about Jordan. Two, she doesn’t know about Ross’s feelings for me. Three, she doesn’t even know who the twins are.

  “I fucked Jordan.” My words slip free, and she freezes. I realize now my fuck up. There’s a chance someone heard and will tell anyone in the Vestige.

  Being gay is a death sentence.

  Her head turns up to me. Beautiful tears kiss her lips as confusion caresses her tongue. She starts to say a word, but it doesn’t come to fruition, as if the speech has been stripped of her.

  She blinks.

  Twice.

  Three times.

  Her face redden in the cheeks, giving her pale complexion a porcelain glow.

  “You what?”

  “You heard me. It’s not safe to repeat.”

  There isn’t disgust in her tone, posture, or even facial expressions, but she’s definitely baffled. Out of us all, it’s me who should be the last to fool around with Jordan. He’s a prick. That’s a fact, but he’s soft underneath the facade. I can tell.

  “Say something,” I nearly beg, hearing the break in my voice.

  She closes her eyes, and it takes several seconds for her to open them again. “Okay.”

  “Okay? That’s it?” My incredulous tone has her smiling. It’s small and nearly timid but there all the same.

  “Yes, Lux. Am I supposed to hate you for wanting him when I want you all?”

  A stuttering breath threatens to knock me on my ass as she grabs my palm and cradles her face with it.

  “You’re not mad?”

  She shakes her head with a small laugh. “If it was anyone but you guys, yes. Since it’s one of the guys, absolutely not.”

  Somehow, a weight lifts off my shoulders. She accepts me. Something not even some of the closest people in my life will acknowledgge, she takes with ease.

  “Don’t be so shocked,” she teases, shutting my apparently open jaw.

  “I’m just stunned.”

  “I’m not them, Lux,” she explains, gripping my face in her hands. “You’re valid to me.”

  My eyes prick, and the emotion practically knocks me over.

  “I don’t know what to say,” I nearly whimper, hearing more cracks in my voice than a dropped photo frame.

  “Don’t say anything. Just let me accept you, and we’ll keep it between us.”

  I stare at the girl I’ve taunted for the last eight months, wishing I’d have been a better man.

  “Colton,” a manly voice hollers from behind me. I’m not sure who it is because the voice doesn’t sound familiar whatsoever.

  She doesn’t flinch at him, so he must be a friend. But a friend in this estate means little.

  Twisting my head, I see a broad-shouldered man with a five o’clock shadow. He looks insanely familiar, and the longer I stare at him, the more my mind tugs at a memory.

  “Lennox DeLeon,” the guys sounds out, staring directly at me.

  Him knowing my name isn’t exactly news, but it rubs me the wrong way. Maybe it’s the fact that he calls Corpse by her nickname and not her full name. Maybe it’s because he’s tall, dark-haired, and handsome. Maybe it’s the fact that I trust no one.

  Whether one, two, or three, I only offer a glower.

  He smirks at me. It overtakes his face in a weirdly maniacal way. “Don’t remember me, DeLeon?”

  Turning full to his approaching form, I adjust my suit and tie, making sure to seem as well put as possible.

  “Am I supposed to?” For some reason, I know I should.

  “Parris Marchetti.”

  Marchetti.

  Marchetti.

  Marchetti.

  The name rumbles throughout my veins, thumping wildly. Erratic beats make my breath feel labored when I haven’t moved. I suck in air as much as I can because Marchettis aren’t alive to the world. They’re dead. Much like the Grims, they were erased.

  Is he one of them?

  The forgotten, replaced, and erased.

  He waits for my words, but my mind can’t even focus on one thing let alone my mouth.

  “Cat got your tongue? It hasn’t been that long.”

  That long?

  Do I truly know him?

  My mind repeats his name over and over, forgetting the Marchetti bit just for a moment. “Valridge?”

  A coy smile overtakes his face.

  Colt tugs on my blazer. “Who is he?” she whispers loudly.

  “Besides your bodyguard?” he muses. “I used to be the fly-half and Lux lost his final game last year to me.”

  “Y-you played with Cassidy?” Colt asks, her voice along with her body trembling.

  I want to comfort her, tell her it’s alright, touch her and remind her that it’s okay to feel.

  But with Cassidy’s name leaving her, Parris nearly stumbles back. Not only is there shock on his face but almost a nervousness that wasn’t there.

  Did he know Cass?

  “You’re that Colt?”

  “How many female Colts have you met?” she asks, the amusement helping her recover from the sadness I know she feels.

  “I just... Your hair is black.” He ruffles his gelled hair, making it far too messy and way less controlled.

  “Who are you?”

  The way her voice cracks has me bringing her to me, making sure I can hold her up no matter what brings her down.

  “I’m Parris,” he repeats. “I—” His phone chirps, stopping his words. He looks around as if people are watching.

  Maybe they are.

  Maybe we’re all fucked.

  Holding Corpse to my side, making sure she doesn’t fall, I watch him answer, and his face morph into that disconnected robotic man who was here before.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Colt squeezes me before stepping away and toward Parris. He hangs up his cell, and his eyes bore down on her.

  “You don’t have to tell me, but I think I know,” she murmurs, her words halting and slow.

  Parris nods with a nostalgic and depressed look. “So, he is dead.”

  The redness of his face lets me know he’s seconds away from breaking.

  Colt begins to shutter and sob, and I know it’s my cue to pick up the pieces. Do what I couldn’t when she needed me most. Be who she needed when no one was there. Have her back when she’s always had mine.

  “We’ve got to take her for makeup and to try on dresses,” Parris explains, looking at me while the anguish behind his eyes tell me what I need to know.

  He’s him.

  The him we all wondered if existed.

  “P-please,” Colt stutters through her tears. “I can’t do this again.”

  I come to her, lifting her up, and Parris helps me. She’s not heavy by any means, but I don’t know if carrying her wedding style will be taken kindly. She’s so frail, skinnier, bonier. She wasn’t lying when she said she wasn’t doing well.

  As she falls apart in our arms, I pray for reprieve. For strength. For answers.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Colt

  I don’t know how I know he’s the
man I always knew Cass loved, but I do. The way he asked if it’s true that Cassidy’s dead broke me. My body feels far too heavy to carry a burden of a lost brother. It’s too beaten down to ever want to get up.

  One thing Elijah didn’t get to take is my ability to use anything to ease my pain. He might have taken me from my home, my phone, and dignity, but he can’t take my depression and need to self-harm.

  Not that he knew. No one did, not really.

  Oh, yeah, Lux knows.

  My scars are everywhere, but they’re inked too.

  “Is she going to be okay?” Parris asks Lux. They’d brought me back to my room and have been standing by the door for the past ten minutes, watching me, waiting for me to break down.

  Unfortunately for them, it’s too late. I broke ages ago. I literally died, sat six feet under with Cass, and the only part left of me is the corpse.

  “She misses him.”

  “I wasn’t entirely sure he died,” Parris says grievously. I can’t see his face, but I’m sure he’s feeling the loss, much like me. “I figured he ghosted me. It wasn’t until the summer when the Imposter event happened that it clicked in something was wrong.”

  “You’re a nerd too?” Lux guesses, his humor apparent.

  “Yeah, that’s how we met. After that, I went digging. Did you know the Marchettis are not only one of the oldest families in the Vestige, but their existence is only erased because the Grims thought it only fair to have equal pain?”

  I listen, my eyes closed, acting as if I’m not.

  “I’d been raised to think of you guys as the traitors.”

  Parris chuckles at Lux. “Yeah, I didn’t know about the Vestige until June. I reached out to my grandpa, and he told me everything. He also hooked me up with Elijah, promising me a job and future.”

  “We shouldn’t talk here,” Lux mentions. That’s when I remember all the cameras in this place. There’s no way they don’t know me and Jordan fucked. There’s no way.

  Parris leads me back to my room, letting Lux know he can't follow me, that I'm definitely at the mercy of cameras. I practically cry on the idea that I'm part of their reality TV. They know I'm suffering, that I'm cutting, that I have done some shady shit in my room.