29. Hawthorn
It’s been a week since I freaked out and almost broke down Penelope’s hotel room door. Since then, she’s spent every night in my arms, and I’m pretty sure I’m unhealthily obsessed with her. Today’s the day that we’re going to leak the news that Trudy and Barnaby Rhodes are missing. It’s the first step in our revenge plan, and I’m eager to get the ball rolling.
The girls want to get into the house and start wreaking some havoc, and the rest of us are ready for some retribution too. Peering into the bathroom, I watch as she slicks a final coat of gloss over her pouty lips. Turning her head from side to side, she checks her reflection in the mirror, but she always looks perfect to me. Her hair’s up in a braid today, and I have to physically fight down the urge to gather it in my fist and drag her head back to kiss me.
This self-imposed sex ban is driving me insane, and I’m almost at the point where I’m considering just throwing her on the bed and fucking her until she understands that she’s indisputably mine. She’s as frustrated as me, and the constant sexual tension that’s flowing between us is almost unbearable. I started all this because I wanted her to be secure, and know without doubt that I want so much more from her than just her body. Only now, it’s become almost a war between us.
I want her to be with me fully, to be mine, and she wants me to just accept that she doesn’t know how to give me anything more and be okay with it.
If I were a different man, I’d give in, but I don’t want to accept just a part of her, I want all of her, and if I have to live with blue balls until she finally gives herself to me fully, I will.
Gulliver’s investigator found out that the Rhodeses are in Marrakesh under the pretense of meeting potential clients, but in reality, they’re just living in a palatial house on the beach and doing nothing other than robbing the rest of the world of useful oxygen.
Unlike celebrities, the people who inhabit the world of the upper ten percent of America’s richest families are not hampered by common paparazzi. But that doesn’t mean that the media has no interest in us. We used an article to help bring Izzy to the forefront of everyone’s minds, and we’re going to use another to splash the news that the girls’ parents are missing.
Our plan is to leak information to some of the smaller news outlets first, and then hope that with a little probing and the girls being seen visibly upset in the right places and by the right people, that the news will spread organically to the bigger outlets before it becomes front-page news.
By the time it reaches the Rhodeses’ notice and they make a statement to say they’re alive and well, we hope to have gotten access to the house and caused as many problems as possible.
“You ready, Princess?” I ask, stepping into the bathroom and immediately running my fingers along her exposed nape. I love it when she wears her hair up. I love being able to see the sexy curve of her neck, bare and ready for me to press my lips against, to nip and suck.
“I just need to finish my makeup.” She smiles, holding up a tube of something.
“Okay, cool, breakfast is ready.”
Her smile falls, but she forces it back into place and nods. “I’ll be right out.”
I hate that eating is an issue for her. She hasn’t had another meltdown like she did the first morning, but then I always make sure to tell her to eat and talk her down when she starts to spiral. I don’t know if it helps or not, but she always takes at least a few bites of everything I cook for her, even if it’s not as much as I’d like.
A few minutes later, she slides onto the stool next to mine and takes a sip of the coffee I’ve already made for her. The smile that spreads across her face is the sexiest thing in the world. Since the first time Izzy forced a cup into her hand, she’s drunk every coffee with full-fat caramel creamer, and although I don’t know for certain, I swear she’s saying a silent fuck you to her mom with every sip.
Since the day I used her naked body as my plate, I’ve discovered that Penelope has a sweet tooth. She’ll eat savory food if I encourage her, but it seems harder for her to resist anything sweet and sugary. I still order her a disgusting green juice laced with protein powder, avocado, and banana every day, but I also tried to tempt her with things her mother never allowed her to eat.
This morning, I don’t miss the flash of delight in her eyes when I slide the freshly cooked waffle drizzled with maple syrup and strawberries in front of her.
“You’re making me even more spoiled, cooking for me every day,” she grins, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, I like looking after you.”
“I can look after myself, you know,” she says, her fork poised over the plate.
“I know you can, but how about we take care of each other?”
Another soft smile lights up her face, and she nods, curling her arm around the back of my neck and kissing me again.
“Eat,” I say nodding to her plate, before reluctantly pulling away from her touch. “Today’s the day we finally get to kill your parents.”
She laughs, loud and bright and fucking happy, and I settle back into my seat, watching her while I eat, like the whipped, obsessed motherfucker I am.
* * *
The others are waiting for us on the steps when I park my car in the school parking lot. Killing the engine, I climb out, waiting for Penelope to get out before I lock it and hold out a hand to my girl. She takes it without thought now, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and I pull her into me, kissing her temple as we make our way across the lot.
Izzy bounces over to us, pulling Princess away from me for a hug before she presses a soft kiss to my cheek.
“Morning, Princess,” Davis calls, using my pet name for her to tease her before he drops his arm across her shoulders. “You ready to become an orphan?” he asks playfully.
Shoving him off, she pretends to scowl at him, but her smile wins, and she giggles. “Hell yes, I can’t wait.”
Somehow Davis and Penelope have become friends, and honestly, I have no fucking clue how. He hates her, or he did? I don’t know anymore. I should pin him down and ask him what the fuck is going on, but if my brother and my girl have decided to call a truce, I’m happy to let it happen and not rock the boat.
“What do you think is going to happen today?” Izzy asks.
“The tip already went to the guy I know of at the High Society gossip site. I’m hoping he’ll do a bit of digging and find out that your parents left the country a while back and that they haven’t been seen out and about since. Obviously, we know that they’re laying low after Slapgate at the engagement party, but the media won’t. If there’s nothing online by lunchtime, then we have the call to the school scheduled, and you guys will be photographed rushing out visibly upset, and we’ll let it snowball from there,” Kip says, grinning like a mad scientist. He’s loving all of this, the plotting and planning, he’s the most strategic of all of us, and orchestrated revenge has become his new favorite thing.
“Let’s do this then,” I say, reclaiming my girl and pulling her back to me for a soft kiss.
“I’ve set up alerts for mentions of the Rhodes name on everyone’s cells, so turn your ringers to silent,” Davis says.
Pulling my cell out of my blazer, I flick off the tones before putting it back into my pocket. The others all do the same, and then we move as a group to homeroom, before splitting up to our respective classes.
The vibrations start on my cell about mid-morning, and by the time I have a chance to check my alerts just before lunch, there’s thirty-four new Rhodes mentions. Clicking into them, I scroll through the highlights and see ten articles about Trudy and Barnaby Rhodes being missing. Several of them say that the police have been informed and are currently looking into their last known whereabouts.
This is perfect, it’s exactly what we planned, and I’d lay money on the fact that by the end of the day, the media will be parked outside the school waiting to get a photo of the twins.
Small hands curve over my chest, and I look down expecting to see Penelope, but instead it’s Amanda Cartwright with her hands all over me. “Hey Hawthorn,” she coos, in what I think she assumes is a sexy voice, but actually just sounds a little nasally.
I open my mouth to tell her to fuck off, but my eyes are drawn to my beautiful, furious girlfriend, standing with her equally angry identical twin sister right in front of me.
“I’m sorry, Amanda, did you not get the memo that dirty little new money sluts aren’t welcome near my boyfriend?” my Princess snarls in her best Penelope Rhodes, heiress, voice.
“Bitch, old or new, I’m worth a hell of a lot more money than you, now you’re not getting your granddaddy’s billions,” Amanda hisses with a sneer, barely glancing over her shoulder.
Strutting over to us, Penelope stands at my side, not even glancing at me as she glares at Amanda. “Hawthorn.”
“Yes, Princess,” I say, pushing Amanda away from me and immediately pulling Penelope into my body, wrapping myself around her.
“You see, Amanda, I might not be worth a fortune anymore, but I chose to walk away from those billions of dollars because money can’t unburden your soul or save you from yourself. It can’t make you happy or buy you a person who isn’t remotely interested in you,” she says, flicking her soft eyes up to me for the briefest of seconds before they harden again as she looks back at the girl in front of us. “But it can buy you a new nose. You should get on that,” she says with a disgusted, imperious sneer as she turns fully in my arms, putting her back to Amanda and dismissing her like she’s the most insignificant thing in the world.
A laugh falls from my mouth a second before I lean down and press my lips to hers. My girl is a bitch, she’s mean and elitist, and I fucking love it.
I faintly hear the angry huff Amanda makes, but nothing could pull me away from the girl in my arms. I’m pretty sure she’s going to be pissed at me the moment I release her lips, but I don’t care, she publicly claimed me again, and my dick is rock-hard in my pants.
“Jesus, if they start fucking in the hallway, they’re going to get expelled.” Gulliver laughs, his voice loud enough to pull my attention away from my Princess.
Reluctantly, I pull back, not releasing my hold on her, as I lift my eyes to my friends and smile. “Hey bro.”
“Hawthorn,” Penelope hisses, pushing at my chest and trying to get free of my hold.
“Calm down, Princess, I didn’t touch her. It’s all you, you know that, you can fucking feel it’s all you.”
She stops pushing, and her palms press flat against my chest.
“That girl had her hands all over you, Hawthorn, that’s not okay,” Izzy says angrily.
“I was just about to tell her to fuck off when you guys showed up. My Princess knows I’m only hers, don’t you?”
Looking down at my girl, she scowls, then nods. “Mine,” she mouths.
“Yours,” I mouth back, then I drop my lips to her ear and rasp. “I’m going to fuck you so good when we get home, Princess. I’m going to make you come so hard.”
A tremble runs through her, and she inhales sharply, but all I can do is smile.