Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
ASHER
Have you ever gazed at someone and been hit with emotions that are in complete contradiction to each other?
Because that’s what I feel every time I lay eyes on her.
On one hand Ruella makes my heart race, sets fire to my blood and fills me with an intense need to be in her presence.
I want to have her scent stuck to me like it was last weekend after that night in the billiards room.
I want to feel her skin on mine, and most sickeningly, I want to know what she looks like when the morning sun shines through my bedroom window and casts a warm glow around her.
But then there’s the other side, the side that hates everything she represents, the side that wants to break her until the facade dissolves and the truth oozes out. Because I know all she offers is lies, and no matter how hard I try to unravel her secrets, they are locked up tight.
I have never met a problem I can’t solve. I am a Vander after all. But with her… It is like I am constantly flailing around for the missing piece of the puzzle.
I have come to learn that Ruella Griffith is both a complete stranger and what feels like the other half to my soul living outside of my body. And she will either be the making of me or my ruin.
Like now, while I watch her from my usual spot in the dining hall, as she laughs with Corden and Deena.
I have the intense need to make my way over to her and I have no reason to.
I have so much on my plate, assignments, lacrosse, the business.
And yet, I still find myself wanting to sit with her and chat utter shit like the other night.
Even after the awkward kiss, I still left feeling lighter than I have felt in a long time, and that had everything to do with Ruella.
I say awkward kiss, but I don’t mean the kiss itself. That was phenomenal.
I’m not much of a man to take pleasure from just kissing, it has always been the appetiser to the main event. But with my little vixen, my world has forever been changed. As soon as she gave back as much as I put into her, I felt…
I shake my head and snort to myself.
What the fuck am I thinking.
I need to shake this feeling like she clearly has. She has been avoiding me and I am not this sad sappy git who pines after a girl after one fucking kiss.
I run my hand through my hair as Daylan pushes his now empty plate to the side. Jacob sits next to him, his Russian accent low but cutting as he talks on the phone.
“What’s going on Ash?” Daylan asks while resting his elbows on the dark wooden table.
“Nothing. Why?” I take a sip of my water before resting back in my chair.
“You have been distracted all week. We need you clear headed for the game tonight,”
He’s not wrong, I have been distracted, and it has shown at every practice this week.
Between my parents, Ruella and how she somehow turned into an investigator, and then trying to locate Bronwyn in the states, since that’s where her shitty parents say she ran off too.
Bishop has been unable to find any evidence that she ever left the country, and knowing what I know, there is only one plausible explanation.
My chest constricts as the images flash through my mind.
Then comes the regret followed by utter fury.
I thought I had ended this. Turns out it was a bigger operation than I first thought.
“ASH,” I startle at Jacobs voice.
“Yeah?”
“Where did you go?” His bushy brows are furrowed.
“Sorry,” I run my hands down my face. “I’ve had shitty week,”
“More like a shitty term,” Daylan grunts.
“You can say that again,” I huff. “Was that your uncle?” I ask Jacob to try and get back to what is important.
“Yeah,” He sighs. “He says there’s an auction coming up, but the details haven’t been released yet,” Fury flashes through me at the thought of it.
“But other than that,” Jacob continues. “He doesn’t know who is working from here,”
“And his undercover guy?”
“Still nothing from him yet but he will let us know if anything changes,”
I nod. “Thank him for me,”
“He doesn’t need your thanks, Ash. He hates those fuckers as much as we do. If he could be here himself, he would,”
If it wasn’t for Jacob and his uncle, I would have lost everything last term. I will forever be indebted to them. And by association, the Bratva.
Jacob may look like your typical English man, but his mother is a Bratva woman through and through.
His uncle is some big dog in Russia, but his mother was sent to the UK for school and fell on love with an English man.
Jacob wouldn’t have much to do with the Bratva with being an Evans and not a Zaitsev.
But after his cousin was killed, he became the only heir left, so has spent every single summer back in Russia with his uncle learning the ropes.
A flash of white hair draws my attention again.
I have no idea why she is avoiding me, every time I try to approach her, she gets a strange haze in her eye that wasn’t ever there before and makes an excuse to run away.
I thought she would want to talk more about Bronwyn, I was actually on the verge of asking for her help, because in a matter of a few weeks she has managed to notice things that no one else does at this academy.
Her insight and fresh eyes might help, because as much as I try to find out who the inside person is, faculty member or student, I am coming up empty handed.
Yes, there are a handful of staff members with questionable morals and sealed files.
But none suggest an in with whatever is happening here.
Mr. Carmichael is on the top of my list, not because I think the head teacher is actively kidnapping girls from his own school, but I think he knows a lot more than he is letting on.
Yet every time I corner him and pretty much interrogate the man, he has a perfectly well prepped answer and explanation for everything.
“What do you think about bringing in more eyes and ears?” I ask quietly while it’s just the three of us.
“Like who?” Jacob asks. “Everyone else seems pretty okay with sailing through with blinkers on,”
“Not everyone,” I watch as Ruella starts to pack up her lunch tray. “Ruella told me she thinks Bronwyn is the latest in a line of missing girls from this school,”
“How the hell has she pieced that together?” Daylan snaps. “She has only been here five minutes. Bronwyn went missing a couple of days after we came back; she’s never even met her,”
“They could have, Bronwyn’s room is below hers,”
“How do you know that?” Jacobs gaze narrows.
“Bishop gave me her room number,” I shrug. Of course, I covered all basis after Ruella blurted out what she did. There aren’t any cameras in the sleeping quarters but there was footage showing Ruella and Bronwyn crossing paths in the main room on move in day.
“Since when did you trust Ruella? I thought she was on your list of suspects?”
“She was, and she still is,” I smirk. “Keep your friends close,”
“And your enemies closer,” Jacob grins back.
I wasn’t lying when I said I am in a constant battle of emotions.
I want Ruella Griffith. Badly.
But that doesn’t mean I trust her.
“So, you guys okay with bringing Ruella in?”
They both look at each other then back to me, nodding in sync.
When Ruella stands and turns with her tray, her eyes clash with mine and that intense pull grows stronger, as though her eyes are black holes, and I am being sucked in.
Her cheeks flush and it sends a bolt straight to my cock, which hardens instantly.
Then that connection is instantly squashed as that other emotion overcomes her and she spins on her heels and leaves the room, tray still in hand.
“Did she walk out without putting her tray on the stand,” Daylan asks.
“Yeah,” I chuckle to myself.
At least I affect my little vixen as much as she affects me.
Now I just need to find out why she is trying to mask it.
My phone buzzing on the table in front of us makes me groan, before I reluctantly pick it up.
“Father,” I grit out between clenched teeth. “What can I do for you?”
“You can explain to me why Darcy’s father has called me concerned, yet again, because you still haven’t asked her to accompany you to the fundraiser next week,”
I nip the bridge of my nose to try and release the building pressure.
Fucking Darcy. Making my life even harder.
“I have been a little busy,”
“If you can’t handle keeping one tiny blonde bimbo happy, then how do you expect to run a company as big as ours,” A metallic tang bursts in my mouth at the hold my molars have on my cheek to keep from giving him some truths.
It is always the same sentence, over and over again and I am really getting bored of it.
“I am more than ready for what is to come,” I snap. “I will sort it all out today,”
“You better,” Then the call cuts off.
“Fuckface,” I whisper as I squeeze my phone between my fist, wishing it was my father’s neck in my hand instead.
“What’s going on?” Jacob asks.
“Just dear old dad reminding me of the fundraiser next week and to keep Darcy happy,” I take a glance to my right where the girl in question sits with her boring friends.
I honestly don’t know why I ever even entertained her.
She is the complete opposite of what I find attractive.
No brain, no ambitions in life other than becoming a trophy, and with each passing day she’s turning into a carbon copy of both of our mothers.
I shiver at the thought.
Is this really what my life is going to be. Shoving my dick in her for business, marrying her for connection and then breeding her for the continuation of completely fucked up thoroughbred Vander’s.
Daylan groans shoving his hands through his dark curls. “I completely forgot about that,”
“Don’t you have some big check to hand deliver?” Jacob turns to him and smirks. “Daylan Dei Bandini,”
“Fuck off,” Daylan punches him in the arm.
“No no, I heard from my mother that the Duke is shaking hands with the head of the committee and handing over a huge check,”
“Your mother heard correct,” Daylan rolls his eyes.
Daylan is the only one of us that didn’t grow up in the UK.
His family heritage is from Italy and includes a long, long line of Dukes, a whole lot of money and even more land and power.
Fortunately for Daylan, he hasn’t had to deal with much family business over the years but that’s all changing as he approaches graduation.
Once that day comes, he will be back in Italy and putting his degree to use for the family.
It’s safe to say that he doesn’t want to leave his life here in the UK, but it’s not like he has a choice.
None of us do.
“Speaking of name’s,” Daylan turns and spreads a knowing smirk across his face. “Did I or did I not hear Piper call you…Cubby,”
All the colour in Jacob’s face drains as I burst out laughing at the reminder of his pet name my sister gave him.
“I totally forgot about that!” My hand presses against my stomach at how hard I am shaking. Between this lunch time and Friday night with Ruella, I haven’t laughed like this in a long time.
“Stop,” Jacob snaps.
“No no,” I lower my voice. “Wasn’t there a little song,”
“Don’t you dare,”
“Oh my god, no. Please tell me you remember it,” Daylan demands.
I rack my brain before clicking my fingers together. “Yes, I remember now. Cubby and Pip, joined at the hip,”
“Mu’dak!” Jacob snaps, his Russian slipping in naturally. The more time he spends learning the business the more he acts the part.
Daylan slaps his hand on the table, wheezing uncontrollably. “Priceless,”
“Yeah whatever,” Jacob grins. “Wait until your wife gives you a pet name you can’t argue with,” Daylan immediately shuts up with a scowl.
“Low blow,”
Jacob shrugs. “Don’t come at me and I won’t come for you,” I smirk to myself.
I am going to miss this when the years is out. I will be running a company; Jacob will be helping run his section of the Bratva and then there’s Daylan. Back in Italy, working for his family and getting married.
He isn’t engaged. Well not yet I don’t think. But his family are big on arranged marriages still and his mother keeps flying in with prospect after prospect for him to choose from. He seems to want to choose a bride almost as much as choosing which way he would prefer to die.
“Back to the fundraiser,” Jacob sits forward. “Is Piper coming?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. You know how nervous she still is,”
“I’ll ask her if she would feel comfortable coming with me and I can be by her side all night,” Jacob nods as if it is a done deal.
“You sure?” My eyebrows raise. “You want to be attached at the hip with Pip, instead of getting drunk and hitting on Stacey?” I smirk.
His eyes narrow again. “Stacey and I are over,”
“Yeah sure,” I chuckle. “That’s what you said the last time,”
“And the time before that,” Daylan inputs.
“Yeah well, that’s over for good this time. Plus, spending time with your sister isn’t that bad,”
Now it is my eyes narrowing on my best friend. “Hmm, I guess,” Jacob has been in our lives since we were babies, our mothers were best friends when they attended Marrowton Academy and like they hoped, we are just as close. That includes Piper.
Jacob and Piper have always had this deeper connection, a one that I cannot understand. Even when they were younger, it was like watching a well-rehearsed dance between them, a dance no one else knew the steps to.
If she moved, he did.
If he moved, she did.
Their attention always found each other, no matter who else was in the room.
It has never been romantic between them and that is why I have never worried about my best friend spending so much time with my little sister. Plus, he has always had the attention of other girls in the Academy, attention Piper hasn’t seemed to be bothered about at all.
But since last term things have felt a little different. He hasn’t bothered with any other girls, yet has found every excuse to be around Piper, and the look in his eye doesn’t scream brotherly protection like it used to.
If I had the time or the extra energy to figure out what was going on between them, I would. Unfortunately for me, I now have to add to my plate and go ask Darcy to the fundraiser.
Fuck.
“Darcy is on her way over,” Daylan warns before I feel a perfectly manicured hand run up my shoulder, and into my hair at the top of my neck. Instead of a shiver of pleasure like when Ruella did it, I shiver with disgust.
It doesn’t feel right.
It’s not her.
I shake it off and paste on my mask, before turning to the person I have a very real fear of being tethered to for the rest of my life.
“Darcy”.