Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
RILEY
M y last class of the day was an accounting class. Yay, more numbers. The saving grace is Ava’s in that one with me, so I don’t have to sit alone. It’s hard being a pariah when I used to be more of a social butterfly. Guess I’m learning new lessons all around.
Trickery.
Mockery.
Lust.
I shake that last thought right out of my damn mind.
It’s been hard enough to concentrate today without adding thoughts of the three Kings to the mix.
I can’t believe Julien tricked me into sucking him off.
I’m so angry with myself. Angry that he could convince me so easily, but I’m more upset over the fact that it turned me on.
I tried to talk to Derek after my classes, but he ignored me.
To be fair, I’d ignore me too if I had my fingers broken by a crazy man.
I’m such an asshole for putting him through that.
I didn’t think Julien would go as far as hurting someone over a stupid kiss.
Although Derek didn’t have to go along with your plan initially, my inner voice chimes in.
I take my computer out of my bag, and open a new word document.
Julien left my bag on the floor in survival class for me.
I didn’t dare try to take it until he gave me one last sneer and walked out of the doors.
Even now, I’m nervous he tampered with it, but I don’t have an option.
I need to get some stuff out to Leah. She’s been champing at the bit.
I’m sitting in the library in a corner booth away from prying eyes.
Who ever would have thought a place like this would have a library.
It’s not as large as other college type campuses, but it will do.
It’s quiet here and allows me a reprieve from… everything.
My phone buzzes with an incoming text. Ava added me to a group chat with Nick at some point today and the two of them have been talking.
I’m pretty sure she’s added me to make her feelings for him less obvious, but I don’t mind.
I’ll take any friend I can get. Most of the girls around here seem to hate my guts, and the guys keep their distance. Like I said…pariah.
Nick:
How was the first day of classes?
Ava:
Good, but tiresome. I had shooting lessons today. My dad’s made me take them already and I’m a decent marksman, so I may get to drop it or move up to a higher level.
Nick:
Well done, Ava! That’s great to hear. How about you Riley? Okay day?
Me:
I survived, so that’s something. Loved getting chased by my nemesis, that was a blast. :/
Nick:
Oh yeah, those survival classes can be brutal, but you’ll make it through. Who do you have?
Me:
Scarboro.
Nick:
Don’t be late and you’ll do fine. Hang in there!
Yeah, solid advice. Just a few hours too late, unfortunately.
Ignoring the insistent buzz of my phone as they text back and forth, I put it down.
I need to get more information for Leah.
I quickly jot what I recall from conversations with Ava this weekend and about my classes today; the chase through the woods at the forefront of my mind.
Do I add that? Am I ready for Leah to know about that?
I know she would freak out, and not for safety concerns.
She would want all the sexy details and squeal in excitement. I know my best friend too well.
My body trembles with the memories of today.
The smell of Julien, his firm muscles pinning me down, not once, but twice.
Then there’s that small tidbit of how he tasted, and it wasn’t completely unpleasant.
I’ve never let a guy come down my throat before.
Not that I’ve had many opportunities, either.
I rub my thighs together to ease some of the pressure building.
It’s a dangerous game, getting involved with them—bending to their will. But in a sick, twisted way, I want to.
What is wrong with me?
I shake my head, clearing my disoriented thoughts. Rereading what I have, I remove all traces of the chase. Leah doesn’t need to know my confusing thoughts about Julien yet.
Or Zander.
Or Wesley.
I’m not ready for anyone to. I finish and save my file, then shoot it off to Leah in an email. I hit send, my heart pounding, fearing an immediate alarm and subsequent arrest. I know I’m being stupid, but with all the unofficial rules at Pointebreak, I’m sure sharing their secrets is frowned upon.
When nothing happens, I sigh in relief. Julien, Zander, and Wesley are probably the best angle for the piece.
Leah could expose the school, but also the unofficial rulers.
I bet the administration would turn a blind eye if one of them asked.
I laugh to myself and shake my head before sighing.
Like those three would ever ask for a damn thing.
It’s always a demand. I’ll tell her eventually, my mind calling me a liar.
I open a new private web browser. Now, what can I learn about the Kings? Social media is always the best place to scout for information. Maybe I should start with Wesley.
He helped me today when he didn’t have to.
He could have left me there in the woods alone, and hell, I might not have gotten up until the sun was setting.
I wanted to curl up into a ball and cry more—have a pity party, but then he showed up.
When I told him Julien made me suck him off, it’s like he changed for a moment.
He was feral, angry. It was… hot ! Groaning, I drop my face into my hands.
I should not be thinking about how sexy it was that he helped me.
I’m grateful he came to help, but I shouldn’t be relying on him.
The worst I’ve ever had in my life is a bad date, and even then, James got me out of that when I texted him for help.
I’ve never had to do a thing on my own, not really anyway.
Stopping, I ponder that thought. I didn’t even reach out to my dad that night.
The man who is supposed to protect me. Did I ever tell my dad about the date after?
I don’t think I did. James is the only one who knows.
It was never brought up in conversations, so James never told him either.
My relationship with my father is more messed up than I realize.
And now, I have to rely on myself. There are no white knights coming to rescue me this time.
Who are Julien Azarian, Wesley Bastian, and Zander Fedorov? Let’s find out.
Nothing. After searching high and low for the better part of an hour, I can’t find anything about Julien.
It’s like he doesn’t exist. There are no pictures of him, no social accounts, and no mention of his name in any capacity.
How is that possible? I thought everyone had a digital trail.
I’ve found plenty of information about who I assume is his father, Alec Azarian.
He’s serving a thirty-year jail sentence.
Considering the school's clientele, it's unsurprising. But it’s as if Julien doesn’t exist.
Wesley is easy to find. He has pictures of him living the party life plastered all over social media.
Random girls, alcohol, and parties fill the dark, colorful pictures.
He seems like a party boy, always up for a good time.
I spot Zander in a few pictures, but like Julien, he doesn’t have any of his own accounts.
I started following Ava, and Zander seems to have a soft spot for her and will get in some pictures with her—always brooding, but there nonetheless.
Pictures aren’t getting me answers, though.
There’s not enough information in these small snippets to paint an entire picture.
Rubbing my forehead, I feel the dull throb behind my eyes as stress takes hold.
I finish my business assignments undisturbed, but I know someone has spotted me when I hear whispers nearby.
I glance around to find the source of the noise and I see two girls, heads close together but eyes trained on me.
Here’s the thing, there are very few of us here.
Seventy-five percent of the student body is male.
So there are very few women to gossip about and Darcy and Julie already filled me in on the deets this morning.
Heat travels up my neck and settles into my cheeks, and I want to tuck my tail and run. But what good is that going to do me? All that’s going to do is give them more ammo to come after me, and I don’t need more people trying to tear me to shreds.
“You got something you wanna say to me?”
One girl squeaks and turns, walking swiftly in the opposite direction.
I stare at the other one, who won’t take her eyes off me.
“Stay away from him, bitch.” She flips her blonde hair over her shoulder and leaves.
“Nice chatting with you,” I call out, knowing she can’t hear me.
Which “him” is she referring to, though?
My guess would be Julien, although with Wesley’s playboy persona, it could be him.
For some reason, I don’t think Zander’s the target.
I pack up my items and walk to the cafeteria to get something to eat.
It’s been a long day, and I missed lunch so I’m starving.
I text Ava and she said she’d meet me there.
I’m sure she’ll have a lot to talk about.
She’s generally pretty chatty. I don’t even know how I’d explain my day.
She knows a bit because of the group messages, but that was strictly about classes.
“There you are, Hellcat.” Wesley jogs up beside me and scoops my hand into his, twining our fingers together. “Good news. I’m gonna be training you.”
I tug, attempting to untangle our hands, but when he grips tighter, I give in and let him hold it. “I never said I wanted you to. You only offered.”
That ear splitting grin is back. “True, true. But I’m gonna do it anyway. You can thank me later.”
“Your master gave you permission?” I dig, smiling to myself.
He pulls us up short, stopping me, and I look into his darkened eyes.
His jaw ticks and he swallows hard. All playfulness from moments ago, gone.
This is the man the other students fear.
“Watch what you say about him, Riley. He’s like a brother to me.
We’re equals, do you hear me?” His bitter voice holds no room for arguments.
I nod my head quickly, a little afraid of the man standing in front of me. “Yes. I understand.”
In the blink of an eye the playboy Wesley’s back, grinning like we just shared a funny exchange. I’m going to end up with whiplash with his personality changes.
“I’m starving. Let’s eat.”
We load our plates up; I opt for salad and lasagna, and grab a table in the back of the room.
Ava and Nick join us a few minutes later and the conversation flows easily.
Well, Ava and Wes keep the conversation going.
Nick and I sit quietly and listen intently.
Ava tells me about her classes and how excited she is about things ramping up.
Nick asks her questions here and there, and she beams every time he does.
I notice Wesley watching them closely, and I know he’s going to report back to Zander. I open a new text to him.
Me:
Don’t make this a big deal. Ava likes him, and he’s nice. They’re friends.
Wesley:
Not sure what you’re talking about.
Sure he doesn’t. “Where are the others?” I ask Wes.
“Home. They don’t eat here. I usually don’t either, but figured we could talk about your training schedule.”
“Oh, you two are training together?” Ava asks, taking a bite of her food, a glint of humor in her eyes.
That bastard. “Oh, um, n-no. Well, maybe. I don’t know.” I shrug, avoiding eye contact, then spear a bit of pasta on my plate but don’t lift it to my mouth. Why am I so damn tongue tied over this? It should be a simple no. N-O.
“Yup. Figured I could help Riley get up to speed around here.”
I roll my eyes, needing to get away from him and all these conflicting emotions he draws from me. I push away from the table and excuse myself, gathering my things and heading to the door. Wesley follows and steps in front of me.
“Riley, stop. I told you not to walk around campus alone. That’s twice now I’ve caught you disobeying.”
“Third time’s the charm.” My sarcasm has really leveled up since I got here.
“There won’t be a third time. Do it again and there will be consequences.”
The argument is on the tip of my tongue, but I let it die, knowing I won’t win this fight.
I'm unable to sleep. My mind races, a whirlwind of images and sensations from the day, replaying like a broken record. As soon as I shut one thought down, another pops up to take its place. Around and around I go. I want off this merry-go-round before I get sick.
I showered before bed so I can hopefully spend a little more time in bed.
I’m tired, but full of energy—a damn oxymoron.
So when the door handle jiggles at four in the morning, I sit straight up and pull the blankets to my chin.
A scream is on the tip of my tongue, but it’s frozen there.
Maybe it’s just someone going to pee in the middle of the night and is at the wrong door.
No one tries to pound on the door or break it down, but the door swings open slowly.
A large figure steps into the room and when he sees I’m sitting up, smiles.
“Training starts now, Hellcat.”