Chapter SixteenWest
Chapter Sixteen
West
Roe doesn't show up to school the next day. I hate myself for waiting out the front even after the second bell has sounded. I hate myself even more when twenty minutes have passed, and I am still sitting there like a pussy-whipped mother fucker.
Furious with myself, and Roe for having the audacity to not show up even after everything I put her through yesterday, I swear loudly before finally admitting to myself that she is not coming today. I head for class.
I have no idea what I would have even said to her had she shown up, but I knew I wanted to see her. No, I needed to see her. Needed to see that I had not destroyed her fierceness.
I slam the door to class open, not giving a fuck when the teacher has to pause what they are saying while I stomp to my seat. He starts up again in a boring droll but most everyone is darting glances at me.
"You good?" Brett asks as I fall into my seat beside him .
I huff but do not respond. I am being an ass, and I know it. Brett is reaching out to me, attempting to breach the barrier in our friendship that I had made when I set the girls on Roe yesterday.
Rolling my shoulders, I glance over at him. "She's not here."
Brett nods, seemingly understanding the exact she I am talking about. Fuck, of course, he would know who I was talking about. Like I said before, I'm fucking pussy-whipped.
"You could always go to her house and apologize," he suggests.
I scoff, "I don't think an apology would mean shit to her."
"Well, you did have your little posse of bitches cut her hair up," he says tonelessly, tapping his pen on the table. "Girls and their hair, man. You don’t mess with a girl's hair."
"Fuck off," I grumble half-heartedly. I know he is right.
By lunchtime, I am squirming in my seat. East and her friends are staring daggers into my back, not that I give a fuck what Felix and Trent think. On that matter, the fuck is she doing still hanging out with that mother fucker ?
"You got worms or something?" Law says, rolling up a slice of pizza from tip to crust before shoving the entire thing into his mouth. Disgusting.
"He’s just agitated because his girlfriend isn't here," Brett says unhelpfully.
"What!?" a shrill shriek comes from behind me. Fucking Sherry.
"Oh, fuck off , Sherry," Law says, mouth still full. "Nobody cares about your unrequited love for West, least of all him."
I don't bother looking back at her while she seethes and waits for me to defend her. Not. Gonna. Happen.
She squeals her frustration like a fucking chihuahua before storming off, the clicking and clacking of high heels finally dispersing.
Law bangs his fist on the table as he struggles to swallow. "The fuck you think you're doing, bro?" he growls. "You are all over the place when it comes to Roe! Stop tormenting her and fuck her brains out already. We all know that’s what you want to do. Hell, that’s all any of us want to fucking do."
I tense up at his last words, and he holds up his palms in surrender .
"I said I want to, not that I would," he says. "Chill the fuck out."
"She's mine ," I snarl anyway. He needs to know I am not fucking around. I have claimed the little fire cat and no one is going to get in my way. Not even myself.
Law rolls his eyes while Brett huffs.
"You got a problem with that, Brett?" I ask, tensing.
He snorts, throwing his burger onto his plate. "We've all got a fucking problem. Have you forgotten what subject she chose for our group to study in Social Studies? How the fuck do we deal with that? Without letting the Elders know."
"Let her do it," Law says around a mouth full. "I want to see what she can dig up on the old bastards."
"I won't let her get hurt," I say.
"Then don't let her get hurt, dude," he says, punching his chest as he swallows. "Help her. Cover for her."
"I wouldn't let her get into any situation that would come back to bite her on the ass," Brett adds. "We can interview one of you guys instead of one of our dads. They won't even know we did our study on them.”
I nod, processing what Brett said. He’s right. Ever the logical one. By using either Law or I as the interviewee, we take away the risks of involving our fathers. I don’t want Roe anywhere near my father, especially after the other morning. Brett's dad wasn’t as much of a dick, but I still didn’t want Roe anywhere near him either. That left Law's dad. The guy was a lazy fucker and didn't give a fuck about anything. From what I had heard, he was a Duke by name only. His participation in Duke business was minimal if he did anything for us at all. There are other Elders, of course. Minor and inconsequential members work on the sidelines, keeping the society running.
My phone pings with a text message, pulling me out of my own mind. My heart honest to fuck stutters for a moment, thinking maybe Roe was sending me some furious and sassy words.
It isn't her.
I curse under my breath as I open the text from my father.
My office. 7 pm.
"Mother fucker."
"What's up?" Brett asks, not taking his eyes off his own phone as he scrolls through his socials.
"My father," I huff. "Wants me to meet him in his office at 7. The fucker knows we’ve got the party tonight." He was pulling rank on purpose. He always got a rise out of pulling me away from shit I wanted to do.
"Typical," Law says .
"Any idea what he wants?" Brett adds, putting his phone down.
"Not a fucking clue.”
He’s late. Of course, he's fucking late.
Pacing the hallway outside of his office for the thousandth time, I check the time on my phone again . 7.23. I swear to fuck, he is doing this on purpose. Five minutes. I will give him 5 fucking minutes, and then I’m bailing. I need a fucking drink and a mouth on my cock. Preferably Roes, but let's not let my mind go there right now.
Finally, the steady sound of footsteps echoes down the hall and there he is, strolling like he’s got not a single care in the world.
"You're late," I growl as he gets close.
He pauses in getting his keys out of his pockets and stares me down. "What was that?" he asks, tilting his head.
He knows exactly what I said, the cunt, but I won't repeat it. I am his son, after all; I know exactly what game he is playing at.
He huffs. "That's what I thought. Run your mouth again, and you will be missing more than just your little gathering tonight." His lips sneered at the word as if it made him sick. I didn’t know exactly what went on in his own little gatherings , but I was sure as shit they were much more sickening than a bunch of teenagers getting drunk and rowdy.
I keep my chin raised as he stares me down a moment longer. Then, finally, he turns back and unlocks the door.
He doesn’t say anything more as he enters the office and turns on the lights. It is a modern setup with a simple color scheme of black and cream. An overly large desk sits centrally in front of an open window as if it were commanding attention. I guess it was, really. My father certainly didn't do anything without a reason behind it. The intimidating size of the desk did just as it was designed to do. I had always felt small inside this office, after all.
My father took his seat, his back to the window. That was always something I appreciated about his office. Whereas my father's view was of a closed door and the person sitting opposite him, I got to watch the world moving outside of the office. It wasn't much to look at, to be sure. A tidy garden of palm trees, hedges, white stone pathways, and a bird bath. If I sat in the chair to the right, I could just see the front drive.
I took the seat on the right .
I wait.
He takes his sweet ass time getting his computer started and checking his emails. And then the fucker takes a phone call.
This was my punishment for speaking out in the hall. The muscles in my legs vibrate with the need to get the fuck out of here. I clench my fists and take a deep breath through my nose as sweat begins to pebble on my brow.
It was then that I noticed movement outside. As discretely as I could, I shuffled further to the right to get a better look.
Fucking East. Fucking Roe, for that matter.
East always followed our fathers' rules. Sure, she would complain to me later about how unfair and sexist our father was, but she followed his rules. She kept herself safe.
Roe had been in our lives less than a week and my sister was breaking the rules again . I had already covered for her for her stupid need to visit the beauty salon with Roe the other day, and now she was sneaking out to go to a fucking party!
There was no doubt in my mind that that was where she was headed. With her silver sequined crop top that tied around her neck and a pair of denim shorts so short I could practically see my sister's ass cheeks hanging out, there was no way she was headed anywhere but the party .
I inched to the right again to catch a glimpse of the hot pink car she was getting into. Felix.
East climbed in quickly, casting a look over her shoulder. She didn't see me, of course. The dark tint of the office window kept curious eyes out. She was a fucking idiot. What if our dad had been gazing out the window right at this second?
I flick my gaze back to him as East closes the door behind her; my heart skips a beat when I realize he is off the phone and staring at me with squinted suspicious eyes.
He is seconds from turning around to see what caught my gaze, and Felix's car is still in view.
"Shall we get on with it, then?" I drawl, just as his chair starts to swivel.
He freezes. Then inches back around to face me fully.
I hold in a sigh of relief as Felix and East speed out of view. She fucking owed me for this.
"You know, I thought perhaps you were finally ready to step up and take some responsibility in the empire I have built for us," Vincent says, voice calm even as his eyes flash with suppressed fury. "But you prove to me time and time again that you are not. I question myself often about whether you are the right person to hand my businesses over to when it is time for me to retire." He laughs. "You know, that was the dream for me. Retiring as my first-born son took over after graduating from high school. Spend the rest of my life basking in my fortune while women fought for the honor of sucking my cock.”
Revolting.
"So, West, what is it going to be?" he asks, leaning back to lounge in his chair. "Are you going to step up and take the responsibilities of being a Duke seriously? Or should I start looking for a replacement heir? That friend of yours, Brett Leacher, seems like a good candidate."
I can't stop my top lip from rising like an angry mutt as my blood boils in my veins.
" I am your heir," I growl.
He claps his hands with a wide smile. "Now, that is what I like to hear.”
We spend the next hour going through the accounts. Or I did, at least. He was on the phone for the majority of the time. Some problems at Mazzuchelli's in Perth. There is a lot of swearing, yelling, and bullying on my father's end. I stop listening pretty quickly, blocking out his angry tones while I go through the books. He wants me to see what kind of income we get from each of his businesses. Wants me to see if any business is losing money and wants me to decide on whether they are worth fixing up or if we should sell up while we can and buy elsewhere.
So far, the numbers are solid. I am finally onto the last business; Mazzuchelli's. Now this is where the majority of his income comes from. The hotel is a money magnet.
I run my finger down the columns; bar, restaurant, hotel. They are all raking in the cash.
I pause when I get to a row titled "The Den." I have no idea what it is, but the money coming in from it is almost triple that of the previous columns combined . I frown, running my finger along the page to double-check that I am reading it correctly. I am.
I glance up at my father. He is already staring at me. Studying me.
I raise my eyebrows in question. "What is The Den?"
He reaches across the desk and slides the paper from under my hand. I resist for a moment but release the page.
"That," my father says, "is something to talk about on another day. You are not ready." He waves a dismissive hand. "Go. You are excused."
I hesitate, itching to know more, but in the end, anxiety for East has me hightailing it out of the office .
I check my phone on my way to the car to find a dozen texts from the group chat I share with Brett and Law. Sighing, I slow my steps to read them.
Law: Good luck with daddy
Brett: He keeping you back on purpose?
Law: Dude, we have a problem. A glittery little sister problem.
Law: Did you not understand my last message? EAST IS HERE!
Brett: Get your ass here ASAP
Brett: Roe just arrived
Law: Holy fuck did she arrive
Law: Dude, you better hurry up. Your girl is looking like a snack over here, and she is practically waving a sign that says, "Down to fuck!"
"Fuck!"
Chucking my phone into my pocket, I break into a jog. Reaching my car, I turn it on with the click of a button and am screeching down the drive before my seatbelt is on. Shit, Dad was going to give me all kinds of hell for marking the driveway again .
Ignoring the speed limit, I floor it down the road. Law's house is only a few minute's drive away; I make it in one.
Slamming the door closed behind me, my ears are assaulted with the trashy tunes of Skoolz Owt . Why the fuck did we hire them again? I storm towards the front door, passing a couple dry humping on the steps, the girls over dramatic moans making my eyes roll. Can't he tell she’s faking it?
Entering the already open door, I pause to scope the room. The band has paused in its screeching and is inviting some red-haired girl onto the stage. Ignoring them, I spy Law and Brett staring at the stage with goddamn hearts in their eyes. The fuck is wrong with them?
I push through the crowd of drunken teens and reach the boys as the band comes to life with a new song.
"Where the fuck is she?" I demand, unsure if I am asking about East or Roe at this point. Likely they are together anyway.
They don't even acknowledge me. My muscles tense as I prepare to punch one of them in the arm when three things happen at once:
Three: an angelic voice breaks through the speakers, drowning out the awful strumming of the guitar .
Two: Law, with his mouth hanging open like a fish out of water, raises a hand and points at the stage, which I am already turning to look at.
One: I see her.
Roe.
Hair short and striking with its red and silver tones. Lips a daring auburn of the same shade. Her tits are pushed up in the black lingerie-style corset she is wearing. Her long, lean legs are on display, looking luscious from the tops of her boots to the mini skirt that is barely covering her, especially as she stands on the raised stage.
And she is singing. Her voice is raw, emotional, and so damn beautiful.
Fuck, she was so goddamned beautiful.
And everyone else was thinking the exact same thing.