Chapter 9
For the next three weeks, I rode to Cape Canyon College every day with one of my stepbrothers. Sinclair kept claiming he’d get my car looked at, but it would take some time.
Every morning was the same: Dacre and Presley played power games to see who could get me to ride with them, and I played into it far more than I should, enjoying the feeling of being wanted that slowly crept up on me.
When Presley had pissed me off with his display in the pool, I’d chosen to ride with Dacre the following day.
When Dacre had called me a princess over dinner when I’d said I didn’t want to eat the crappy chain store pizza they’d ordered in because Byron and my mom had gone out and given the chef the night off, I rode shotgun in Presley’s sporty blue Mercedes the next morning.
I’d barely seen Sinclair since that day he’d picked up Veda at Triple C. Whenever he failed to show at the family dinners my mother insisted on forcing upon us, Byron said Sinclair was busy running his company. Dacre said it was because he was busy boning his girlfriend in his fifteen-million-dollar penthouse apartment in the city.
I didn’t care, I had to remind myself. I could do without those intense green eyes constantly assessing me
Despite my determination to escape before my father could get close to me, I loved it at Triple C. Arena was an incredible friend to have, helping me navigate the vultures of the social scene and introducing me to the professors in the classes we had together. The course work was engaging and motivating and the campus was even more beautiful than I first thought. And I’d made it onto the swim team at try-outs, the coach praising my breathing and stroke work, two things I’d worked hard on for the last year.
Even if it was against both my will and better judgment, I was starting to build a life here. There were only a few downsides, all of them male.
“Dempsey!” someone barked my name as I made my way out of the library.
I glanced over my shoulder, cursing when it was Trenton jogging up behind me.
“What do you want, Trent?”
His jaw clicked at my dismissive tone.
Well, suck it, frat boy.
I wasn’t interested in him, and he needed to take the fucking hint.
He stepped in front of me, intentionally blocking my path, his eyes hard. “Your new stepdad may have money, but you don’t seem to understand who I am and what my name means around here.”
I sighed. “I know who your Daddy is. That doesn’t mean I’m going to sleep with you again.”
He moved in closer, practically snarling at me. “I’ve tried playing nice with you, Dempsey. But maybe it’s time someone taught you some manners so you learn how to fall in line like the rest of the women around here.”
Anger boiled my blood, my bag slipping from my shoulder and hitting the ground. Arena was right, Trenton was an abuser in the making if he continued to go unchecked.
He crowded me against the wall. I’d be happy to tell him exactly where he could shove his pencil dick. And it sure as hell wasn’t anywhere near me.
But before I could open my mouth to do just that, a body slipped between us, and Dacre was staring down at me with his back to Trenton.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Trenton snarled at him.
Dacre threw a look over his shoulder, his large body shielding me from view and slowly edging me away from Trenton. “Talking to my stepsister. Do you mind, bro?”
Dacre turned to face me, one hand pressed against the bricks above my head. He had me caged in, his voice low so only I could hear.
“When I step back, I want you to pick up your bag and walk.”
I opened my mouth to argue but his free hand closed around my throat. Shock flooded me, my heart pounding in my chest.
What the hell was this and why did I like it so much?
His proximity. His scent. The power and possession radiating off him. All of it was like a drug and I wanted to get high.
I am so screwed up for liking this.
“Don’t fuck around this time, Dempsey. Just do as you’re told.”
He leaned closer, our bodies pressed together, and inhaled deeply. “What is that?”
My brow pinched in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“That scent that haunts every one of my senses when I’m trying to sleep at night.”
He lifted a piece of my hair, twirling it around his finger and giving it a firm tug. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through me.
“I use coconut shampoo?” I squeaked.
It was the only thing strong enough to wash out the stench of chlorine after swim practice. It was potent, so it was a good thing I loved the smell. Evidently, I wasn’t the only one.
He stared down at me, those blue eyes penetrating my fucking soul in a way I didn’t consent to. There was no way I could let this happen. My mother would throw the shit fit to end all shit fits if she could see us right now. And this whole community would crucify us, regardless of the Aston’s money and power. Status had become the most important thing to my mother. More important than me. And the fastest way to ruin it would be to fuck my stepbrother on a walkway at Triple C with Trenton watching.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Dacre said, the command in his deep voice making my core clench.
“Like what?”
His eyes filled with heat. “Like you’re thinking what a better choice I’d have been to rail you in the garden at your mother’s wedding.”
I sucked in a breath. I hadn’t been thinking that exact thought, but it was close enough.
“Fuck,” Dacre swore, closing his eyes for a split second, before they snapped open again. “Let’s go.”
He backed off me an inch and I bent to scoop up my bag.
“Sorry Trent, but we’ve got to bail. Better luck next time,” Dacre said, with a shrug that only stoked the angry fire in Trenton’s eyes.
“Dempsey, we weren’t fucking done!” he called after me, his voice hard with anger.
Ignoring him, I let Dacre throw his arm around my shoulders, sending my senses into overdrive. My body was so confused right now. Only a few nights ago I’d wanted to ride Presley in the pool, now I was ready to screw Dacre in the front seat of his car.
I let him lead me out to the parking lot that looked more like a luxury car dealership. We hadn’t made it far when a low whistle startled me, and Dacre’s arm dropped from my shoulders.
“Only been here a few months and she’s already getting herself into a jam,” Presley said from where he and Sinclair sat against the hood of Sinclair’s red Porsche, looking like every rich princess’s dream.
Presley has clearly come from football practice in his black fitted Under Armor shirt and grey sweatpants. The backwards cap was like Dempsey cat nip. Sinclair was suited and booted like always, making him a walking, talking distraction for any woman within a ten-mile radius.
Why did they have to be so goddamn hot? It was beyond inconvenient for me.
I knew Presley and Dacre weren’t fucking around when they said they would have been better choices than Trenton. I’d witnessed Presley’s prowess with the way he’d made that waitress whimper. And from the way Dacre had my pulse racing against the wall, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he’d be just as dangerous.
Sinclair was a wildcard. There was no way to tell what he was thinking with that deep stare and perfect chiselled face that never gave anything away. The guy was made of stone, which probably meant he’d be the freakiest of them all.
Too bad he had a girlfriend.
It should be that it’s too bad he’s your damn stepbrother.
Presley pushed to his feet and moved to his bright blue Mercedes which was parked next to Sinclair’s Porsche. Dacre’s orange Lamborghini sat on the other side, like a leprechaun had shit its rainbow all over the parking lot.
“So… who are you riding home with?” Sinclair asked, those serious green eyes penetrating me. It was a simple sentence, but coming from Sinclair, it felt like a challenge.
I glanced at the cars, then at each guy.
Presley was the logical choice. His casual charm was easy to be around, the car ride would be flirty and fun.
Dacre was a dangerous option right now, given the spark of heat that had just ignited between us. He was still staring at me like he wanted to strip me down and worship me with his mouth. Riding with him would put my willpower to a test it was likely to fail.
I swallowed hard, gaze landing on Sinclair.
The enigma.
The one who gave nothing away.
The one I was least likely to do something reckless with, given we could barely hold a conversation without sniping at each other.
He also had a girlfriend, which meant he was the safest, most platonic option right now.
“You,” I said with a nod to Sinclair.
I didn’t miss Presley’s muttered “mother fucker” at having lost the minor contest. But I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of Sinclair’s mouth. The most he’d ever given me.
Dacre’s arm slid around my shoulder for a second time, setting my skin alight. “I save you from Trenton—” His lips brushed the shell of my ear, his tone more playful than angry. “—and you’re going to ride home with Sin?”
I shrugged like his touch had no effect on me, pulling away and striding around the Porsche to open the door. “What can I say? I really like red.”
Dacre shook his head, fighting his smile as he slid into the Lamborghini. “We’ll see who would’ve gotten you home the fastest.”
When I walked in the door twenty minutes later, the maid approached me with a timid smile.
“Miss Dempsey, this came for you about an hour ago.”
I stared at the envelope in her outstretched hand, dread pooling in my stomach.
It hadn’t even been long since the last letter from my father. Was he really moving this quickly?
The maid frowned at me, patiently holding the envelope out.
I took it, shoving it in the side pocket of my book bag and bolting up the stairs. I locked the door to my room, tossing the bag aside and pacing back and forth.
Maybe it wasn’t even from my father. Maybe it was an invitation to a society event?
Arena clearly worked fast given how quickly we’d become friends. It could be from her inviting me to some fancy function.
Deep down I knew I was fooling myself. But I couldn’t imagine away the letter.
Stop being such a frightened little brat and open it.
Marching across the room, I snatched the envelope from the side pocket of my book bag and tore it open.
Inside was a thick piece of stationary, the same personalization as the first two.
Only this time the words were far more ominous.
The longer you play these games, the worse it’s going to get.
I hit the outdoor pool that night.
The indoor pool made more sense, given it was designed for training, with diving blocks and lane ropes, but I loved the outdoor pool. It was my favorite place in Byron’s entire compound. Granted, I was yet to see half of it, like the nine-hole golf course, the outdoor basketball court, or the indoor running track, but none of those would top this pool for me. It was peaceful, secluded, and usually… totally abandoned.
I finished up my standard forty laps, hauling myself from the pool and heading over to the lounger where I’d left my towel and phone. Scooping the phone into my hand as I dried myself off, I frowned at the message notification from an unknown number.
I clicked into the message, my heart racing as a video played.
It was grainy, like it had been taken at a distance, and shot from the roadside of the Triple C parking lot.
Sinclair and Presley were sat on the front of Sinclair’s car like they had been only hours ago after Dacre had saved me from Trent. The video was taken from the side, my face and Dacre’s were both half-obscured at this angle.
The grin on Presley’s face as he spoke to me made my stomach flip.
God, he was gorgeous.
It was clear the moment I chose to ride with Sinclair. Presley swore good-naturedly, and I got to experience Sinclair’s ghost of a smile all over again.
Then Dacre’s arm came around my shoulder, and the camera zoomed in on the way he tugged me against him to murmur in my ear.
The way I leaned into him as he spoke.
The way he gazed down at me, waiting for my response.
Nothing about it looked brotherly. Or even platonic.
The video cut out and a text message appeared beneath the video.
You and your brothers look like you’re getting close. Don’t get too close, Darling. You know who you belong to.
I tossed my phone across the pool deck like it had burned me. It hit the lounge chair three spaces over with a thump, bouncing off it and tumbling to the ground.
My father was closing in.
And he was threatening to expose a secret that could ruin all of us— one I wasn’t even willing to admit to myself.