Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
TALON
The afternoon sun hits the campus walkway like it’s trying to burn through concrete. I cut through the quad with my phone pressed to my ear, half-listening to the hum of students around me. The call clicks, and then that familiar gravelly voice slides through.
“Talon. Long time, no talk. What’s up, my boy?”
I grin. “Not much, G. Just figured it’s been a minute since I checked in. Didn’t want you to think I’d died or something.”
He laughs. “You die? Please. You’re too damn stubborn. How’s my evil sister? Still as manipulative as ever?”
I huff a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of my neck.
“You know her. Still trying to pull every string in the room. Won’t let me see Minxy, still treats me like I’m twelve, and now she’s got this last-minute engagement party cooking.
Her fiancé, Chad—nice enough guy, but he seems clueless as hell.
I asked if Minx could come home for the weekend for the party.
Chad said they had called the dean to ask.
My mom shut it down before he could even finish the thought.
Said it was some ‘testing weekend’ at her school. "
He hums, that knowing sound that means he’s already five steps ahead. “And what do you know about this fiancé?”
“Not much,” I admit, watching a couple walk past hand in hand. “Seems decent. Just in over his head. Give it a few months; she’ll have him bled dry, his company tanked, and his house for sale while she’s off shopping for husband number four.”
“Three,” G corrects. “According to the law, anyway. She managed to make that last one vanish from public record. I still don’t know how she pulled it off.”
“Typical,” I mutter, stepping around a girl on her phone. “You ever met him?”
“Nope. Half-sister or not, she’s kept me out of her little social circle. Said it wasn’t my business.” A pause, then a dry laugh. “I wonder if I’ll even get an invite to this party.”
“If you don’t, crash it,” I say without missing a beat.
“I just might.” His voice softens, but there’s steel underneath it. “Hold strong, kid. I’ll see if I can dig up something about Minxy and her school. But don’t do anything stupid to piss your mom off. I need you home and breathing.”
“Yes, sir.”
The line clicks dead, and I drop my hand to my side, letting the phone dangle between my fingers. The quiet after talking to G always feels heavier than it should—like he knows more than he says.
I cut across the courtyard, weaving between clusters of students. The air smells like cut grass and too much cologne. My mind should be on class, but it’s not. It’s on the flash of skin that’s haunted me since that brunch. The press of her mouth. The way she said it didn’t happen.
Penelope.
The name alone does things to me I shouldn’t admit out loud.
She’s just rounded the corner in front of me, maybe twenty feet away, walking fast like she’s got somewhere to be.
I hang back for a second, watching the sway of her hips, the soft bounce of that platinum hair catching sunlight.
She doesn’t notice me—too caught up in whatever world she disappears into when she’s pretending I don’t exist.
I take my chance.
My feet move before my brain catches up, closing the space between us. She turns another corner down a quieter hallway near the supply wing—empty, with only vending machines and the faint buzz of the fluorescent lights.
When she stops to dig through her bag, I step up behind her and grab her wrist. The surprise makes her gasp, a sharp sound muffled as I back her gently into the supply closet behind us.
Her back hits the wall; the door swings shut behind me. She looks up, eyes wide, breath catching—more shock than fear. My hand covers her mouth just long enough for her to register it’s me.
The second recognition flashes in her eyes, I move my hand.
She opens her mouth like she’s about to give me hell, but I don’t let her—not yet. I kiss her.
It’s fast, rough around the edges, all the tension that’s been building since she pretended our last kiss didn’t happen. Her hands fist in my shirt, pushing and pulling at the same time. When she kisses back, it’s with the kind of anger that burns slow and deep.
I break away just long enough to breathe, forehead pressed against hers. Her chest rises against mine, quick and uneven.
“God, you drive me crazy,” I mutter, my voice low enough to feel more than hear.
“Then stop following me,” she snaps, but it comes out breathless, not convincing.
My hand slides to her waist, fingers brushing the hem of her shirt. Her skin is warm, soft enough to make me forget how to be rational.
She slaps my hand away, eyes flashing. “No.”
I pull back half an inch, trying to read her.
Her lips curve into something between a smirk and a dare. “I’m in control here. Not you.”
The words hit like gasoline on an open flame.
I grin against her mouth, voice rough. “You sure about that, Miss TA?”
She grabs my wrist, drags my hand lower, guiding it under the edge of her skirt until my knuckles brush the heat of her thigh. Her breath catches, and mine follows. She presses my hand higher, setting it against the thin lace between us. I can feel the wetness even through the fabric.
“This for me?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
Her answer is a sharp nip to my lip. “Shut up, Talon. Be a good boy and—”
She leans in close enough that her breath ghosts over my ear.
“—make me come, or leave now and forget this happened.”
I bite back a laugh, the sound low and rough. “Someone changed their tune quick.”
“I didn’t ask for words,” she says, every syllable a command. “I asked to come. Now get to it.”
My grin widens. “Yes, ma’am.”
I slide my fingers under the edge of her panties and find her soaked. I look into her eyes and see the need behind those blown pupils. My thumb presses against her clit and moves in fast circles.
Instantly, her head drops back against the wall, exposing her throat to me. “Fuck, I need this,” she sighs.
I should feel bad that she’s using me, that one minute she’s firm in her refusal and now because she’s desperate for release she’s throwing caution to the wind. But I don’t. If this is how I can get her, then so be it. It just adds more for me to use later if she throws those walls back up.
I kiss her throat, nipping the skin as my cock grows painfully hard behind my jeans. Moving my thumb from her clit, I sink my pointer and middle finger inside her pussy and hum at how tight she is.
“You feel incredible on my fingers, baby. Can’t wait to feel you on my cock,” I whisper against her throat.
“Shut up, Talon. No talking, just move those talented fingers.”
I pick up the speed, thrusting my fingers in and out of her as fast as I can. The sound of my hand slapping against her pussy is loud in the quiet closet. I slow down only so that my palm can rub against her clit which each thrust.
Her walls clench around my digits, and I know she’s close. I pull out and rub them up and down her tiny nub like I’m starring in the guitar solo and showing off to the crowd. She bites her lip as she grabs my wrist, moving my hand up and down harder against her pussy.
My lips find hers as she cries out. I feel her pussy spasm, and she comes with a sweet but low cry as her cum soaks my hand.
Penelope grasps my wrist and brings my hand up to her mouth. She sucks my middle finger between her lips, tasting herself. She pulls my hand back, freeing my finger from her plump lips only to move it to my mouth and push my index finger inside.
“Taste what you can’t have, Talon,” she murmurs, straightening her panties and skirt.
I raise a brow at her and grab my cock, rubbing it through my jeans, a silent question on if she’s going to return the favor.
I should have known better. Because she reaches down and cups my dick with a hard squeeze. “Naughty boys who stalk and push their TAs don’t get rewards,” she murmurs, eyes sharp. “And don’t you dare make yourself come when I leave, Talon. I’ll know.”
“Baby—” I groan, but she shushes me with a finger on my lips.
“Uh uh. You want to chase and play with the girl from Velvet? Then that’s what you get. Don’t disobey me, Talon.” With that, she leaves me hard and soaking my boxers with precum, standing in the supply closet as she holds her head high and steps out into the hallway.
The door shuts behind her, and I’m left standing in the dark, heartbeat still somewhere in my throat.
The air in the closet smells like her—heat and perfume and defiance. My hands are shaking. My jaw aches from clenching too hard. I breathe through it, slow and shallow, because if I move too fast, I’ll punch a wall or go find her again.
She played me. And I liked it. That’s the worst part.
I press the back of my head against the door, eyes shut, trying to cool the fire still crawling through my skin. Every nerve’s alive, begging for release. She’s got me wound tighter than a damn spring.
When I finally step out, the hallway feels too bright. Too normal. A girl walks past, laughs at something on her phone, and I have to look away before I bite out something I’ll regret.
By the time I make it outside, the sky’s starting to dim, streaks of orange leaking over the rooftops. I walk until I hit the parking lot, climb into my car, and just sit there with the engine off.
My reflection in the windshield looks tired. I shouldn’t care this much. Not about her. Not when my own family’s a bigger mess than anything Penelope could throw at me.
I start the car and drive nowhere, letting the city blur past. The roads here all look the same—perfect lawns, perfect sidewalks, everything pretending to be fine.
Exactly like Mom.
Mom’s always been obsessed with “fine.”
Fine grades, fine friends, fine image. Everything’s for show. Even her marriages.
Dad used to joke that if she could, she’d collect husbands like handbags—a new one every season. I didn’t get the joke until I was older and realized he wasn’t exaggerating.
My dad died.
With the second, we went broke, and she divorced him.
The third one “vanished.”
And now there’s Chad—smiling, kind, completely unaware he’s standing on a trapdoor.
She’s keeping Minxy locked away at that school for a reason. She says it’s for structure, discipline, and a good education. But G doesn’t buy it, and neither do I. Mom doesn’t do anything without an angle.
If she’s keeping my sister isolated, it’s not for her own good—it’s for control. The more I think about it, the more it fits. She’s hiding something.
Maybe she’s already planning for after the wedding—locking in Chad’s money, securing her next move. Minxy’s just leverage. A perfect daughter she can parade around when needed, and hide when she’s inconvenient.
I roll down the window, let the wind cut through the heat pressing on my skin. G’s words echo in my head. “Don’t do anything stupid.” Too late. I’ve been being stupid since I got home.
But someone has to look out for Minxy. And if Mom’s really got her stashed away somewhere sketchy, then maybe I’m the only one who can get her out.
I pull over outside a closed gas station and kill the engine. I dig my phone out of my pocket and scroll to G’s thread, seeing I missed a message.
G: School seems legit. Nothing shady but I’ll see if I can get a contact there to keep an eye on our girl. Just don’t piss off Abi. She has an angle, we just have to figure out what it is.
Yeah, right. He’s been warning me for years that Mom's’s dangerous in a way most people don’t see. The pretty kind. The quiet kind. The kind that smiles while she’s pulling the strings tight.
When I was little, I used to think she was magic. Everything she touched sparkled. Now I know it’s just glitter. Pretty, but fake as hell.
I rest my head against the steering wheel. She’s not going to win this time. Not with Minxy. Not with me. If I can’t stop her, maybe I can at least expose her.
But first—I need to find out what she’s hiding.