Chapter 2
Chapter Two
The moment I walk out of the house, my Uncle Marcel is walking up the front steps. I blink, once, then twice. Nope, he’s still there. It’s not unusual for my uncles to drop in unannounced. Personally, I think they do it often because they know it pisses my father off.
But it is unusual for any of them to be visiting this early in the morning.
“Who died?” I ask him.
“No one that I’m aware of,” Uncle Marcel says.
“Who fucked up, then?” I make my way to the bottom step where he stopped.
“Why does there have to be a problem for me to drop in and visit my nephew?” He raises a brow.
He’s here to see me? I run through recent events, trying to figure out if I’ve done anything that would require a lecture from one of my uncles before eight in the morning on a school day.
“I need a favour,” he says, putting my internal search for my fuckups to rest.
“What do you need?”
“Zara is starting at Prahran today. I want you to keep an eye on her and make sure no one fucks with her,” he says.
Doing my best to school my shock, I fold my arms over my chest. “Zara McKinley? She can afford bodyguards.”
“Don’t be a smart-ass. She’s family.”
She’s most certainly not family, because the thoughts I have in my head about that girl are far from familial. I’m not stupid enough to say this to my uncle, though. He thinks of Zara as a niece. He’s been best friends with her dad since high school or some shit.
“Why is she starting at Prahran?”
“She got expelled.” He shrugs.
“Why?”
“Does it matter?” my uncle counters.
Yes, it fucking matters. I want to know what little Miss Prim-and-Proper did to get herself expelled.
Also, she fucking hates me. I can still make sure no one fucks with her, but her disdain for me is going to be evident.
Everyone at school will know and wonder why the fuck I’m still protecting her.
“Curious what the fuck someone like her could do to get expelled.” I shrug as if it doesn’t really matter to me.
“She got into a fight. Some girls said something to her she didn’t like, and she broke one of their noses.” Uncle Marcel smiles like he’s fucking proud.
“Zara got into a fight?” This time, I let my shock show.
My next question is… is she okay? I don’t voice that one.
I can’t let anyone see how much I actually care.
Because then there would be an interrogation, and if my uncle had any idea about the thoughts I have about Zara, he wouldn’t be asking me to watch out for her.
He’d be warning me to stay the fuck away.
“Just keep an eye on her. Make sure no one fucks with her.” Uncle Marcel turns and starts walking in the opposite direction.
“Sure thing.” I smirk. The only person who’s going to fuck with Zara is me. And she’s going to hate every fucking minute of it.
I pull up to the school and my eyes immediately start seeking her out. Looking through the crowds of people that hang around in their little fucking cliques. I grab my bag, climb out of the car, and lock it before walking towards the entrance.
“You missed an epic party on the weekend.” James, one of three of the only guys I tolerate around here, catches up with me. His strides matching my own.
“What happened with Cynthia?” His on-again, off-again girlfriend for the last two years posted a video of their epic fight at the party all over social media.
“Cynthia happened,” he groans. “But I’ve moved on.” He shrugs. “Plenty of fish in the sea and all that.”
I give him the side-eye. James moving on from Cynthia? I’ll believe that when I see it.
“Come on, I need a smoke.” I walk around the side of the building, where I know Spencer and Daniel will be. As soon as we’re free of the eyes of the herd, I pull out a blunt, placing it between my lips as I search my pockets for a light.
James passes me his. My hand cups around, blocking the wind as I light the joint and inhale deeply. I wouldn’t usually get high this early, but knowing she’s here somewhere has me on edge.
“You good?” James asks, looking at me suspiciously.
“Fucking fantastic,” I grunt as we continue walking until we get to the small enclave, finding Dan and Spencer.
“You fuckers sleep in?” Spence asks. I’m usually here more than five minutes before the first bell rings.
“Family shit,” I say, and none of them ask anything after that. They know better than to ask about family shit.
Being the son of one of the De Bellis brothers means there is plenty of family shit I have to keep to myself.
My father and his brothers run Melbourne’s largest crime organisation.
They also have a shitload of legitimate businesses, one of them being the country’s best whiskey distillery, but no one seems to care about that when they hear my family name.
When the bell rings out, both James and Daniel say their goodbyes. I never turn up to class on the first bell. I prefer to wait as long as I can. I also want to avoid walking through the crowded halls and potentially running into her.
Once the second bell rings, I stump out what’s left of my joint. “There a reason you’re hanging back more than usual?” Spencer asks.
“There a reason you’re nosier than usual?” I retort.
“Yeah, you’re acting weird.” He snorts.
We make our way into the building. The hall is empty. Spencer and I both have English first period. By the time we push through the closed door, everyone is seated and Mr Weston has already started his lecture.
“Nice of you two to join us,” he says, pausing what he was already telling the class.
“Anytime, sir,” I reply with a smirk. Spencer makes his way to the other side of the classroom, where we both usually sit.
My feet freeze. My eyes land on the back of a blonde ponytail.
A big pink fucking bow sitting at the top.
She can turn her face away from me all she likes.
I’d still be able to spot her in a crowd.
The fact she’s always wearing those bows is a dead giveaway.
Then there’s the response my body has to her nearness.
“Whenever you’re ready, Mr De Bellis,” Mr Weston says, snapping me out of my Zara haze.
I school my features as I walk up to the kid in the seat next to Zara’s. I glare at him. “Move,” I grunt. I’m an asshole. I know.
The kid’s eyes widen but he picks up his shit and moves to the back of the room without saying a word. I catch Spencer’s amusement as he shakes his head at me. Ignoring him, I sit down and wait. Zara’s still staring out the window.
She’ll turn around. She won’t be able to keep herself from telling me what an ass I am. I count down from ten in my head, getting to six before her neck slowly turns towards me.
“Morning, P. Fancy seeing you here.” I let my gaze roam all over her features.
Her clenched jaw, the frown lines between her brows, and then I settle on her eyes.
She’s attempting to emanate hate, anger, and a bunch of other bullshit emotions she doesn’t really feel.
Nope, what really shines through is sadness.
It always does. Every time I look at her, all I see is sadness.
It’s not obvious. She would never let anyone see her as anything but happy or polite. But it’s there, in her eyes.
A deep sadness that threatens to pull me into its centre and drown me whole. The frightening part? I’d probably let it consume me if it meant it would leave her alone even for a minute.
“Morning,” she eventually whispers, her face shifting from anger to the well-practiced heiress that she is.
I don’t speak for the rest of the period. What’s there to say? I know that me sitting here, at the front of the class, next to her is going to have the tongues of the school wagging. If Zara had hoped to blend in with the crowd, not be seen, she’s going to hate me even more for what I’ve done.
I’ve made her the very centre of the school’s gossip mill.
When the bell goes, she packs up her bag as quickly as she can and practically runs out of the room. I’m a step behind her. My hand reaches out to her elbow, stopping her escape.
“What class do you have next?” I ask.
She looks at the piece of paper in her hand and then back up at me. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth. I’m tempted to reach out and run my thumb along that same lip.
“I don’t need you to help me, Ares. You can pretend you don’t even know me,” she says.
“What would be the fun in that?” I smirk. “What class do you have, P?”
Spencer stops next to us, looking from me to Zara. “Hey, Spence, and you are?” He puts his hand out towards her.
I push his arm down. “Not fucking interested is what she is,” I growl at him. I know my friends. I know how Spencer likes to be the first to get with the new girls. Especially ones as hot as Zara.
“Zara,” she says while glaring at me. “And I very much could be interested. Depending on what you’re offering.” Zara smiles at the asshole.
Spencer laughs and shakes his head. “Friendship is what I’m offering, babe. I’m not stupid enough to fuck with anything that belongs to Ares.”
“I don’t… No.” Zara turns to me. “You don’t know me. Leave me alone,” she says before she storms down the hall, in the wrong direction. I looked at her timetable while she was busy debating telling me where she needed to be.
“You’re going the wrong way, P!” I call out. Every head in the hall turns to look at me, except hers. She just keeps walking as if I’m not talking to her.
“What the fuck is that about? And seriously? Zara McKinley? What’s she doing here?” Spencer asks.
“How do you know who she is?” I squint at him.
“Because she and her sister are always in the tabloids. Pick up a newspaper sometime, mate.” Spencer walks off, leaving me standing in the hall, watching a blonde ponytail and a huge-ass pink bow sway as it disappears around a corner.