Chapter 13
My chest heaved with exertion, my pulse pounding behind my eyes from intense strain.
Pulling myself from the water, I moved around the pool to where I’d left my towel at the front of the stands.
“Good effort today, Dempsey,” my swim coach said as she passed, giving me an approving nod.
“Thanks, Coach.” I picked up my towel, eyeing my best friend who was seated beside it. Her legs were crossed, a book open in her lap and a pen in her hand, but she’d spent the majority of the last hour definitely not studying.
I’d tried out for Triple C women’s swim team last month and made it. Since then, I’d had three weekly practices, and my times had already improved. It helped having an Olympic-size lap pool at Byron’s house to use any time I wanted a workout.
“Thanks, Coach,” Arena mimicked as I joined her. “Isn’t someone a good little team player?”
I laughed. “Are you bitter because we all know you don’t play well enough with others to join a team?”
Arena levelled me with a look. “Bitch, I play very well with others.”
“Just not when clothes are involved.” I bit down on my teasing smile.
Her mouth fell open in mock outrage. “I told you about my threesome in confidence! Not so you could casually brandish it about on the Triple C pool deck!”
I shook my head, grinning. “You really should have known better than to trust me with your secrets.”
Her eyes narrowed on me. “You’re a vault, don’t play with me.”
She was right. I’d never spill her secrets for the sake of it. Betrayal really wasn’t my thing. Especially when friends in this place were in short supply for me.
Luckily, Arena was all I needed.
“You know there are two libraries on this campus you could choose to study in?”
A shrill whistle filled the pool deck. The guys’ swim coach was signalling the end of their practice. A buffet of near-naked male bodies climbed out of the pool and paraded past us in a steady stream of dripping wet muscle.
“And miss the catwalk of abs going on in here?” Arena said, her eyes trained on them as they went. “You can keep your stuffy libraries where everyone is fully dressed. I’m more than happy where I am, thanks.”
I leaned over and swiped at her lower lip. “I think some drool escaped, you creep.”
She swatted at my hand, laughing. “You’re such a jerk.”
I’d left my phone with the rest of our stuff, and it vibrated against the bleacher seat.
I answered the call, holding it to my ear. “Hello?”
“Miss Dempsey, it’s Gretel, Mr. Aston’s household manager.”
Gretel and I had become well acquainted in the months since my mother and I had moved into the Aston estate. There was nothing the woman couldn’t organize, procure, or create from scratch to satisfy every whim or desire my mother or Byron could come up with.
“I could never forget you, Gretel, how are you?”
“Well, thank you, Miss Dempsey. I wanted to let you know that we’ve had a delivery arrive for you at the house. I was wondering where you’d like us to put it.”
My stomach dropped and dread bled through my insides. The only deliveries I ever got were from my father.
“Is it a letter?” I tried to keep the fear from my voice. “You can just put it in my room.”
“It’s not a letter. It’s twelve boxes addressed to you.”
My brow pinched. “Twelve boxes?”
“Yes.”
“What’s in them?”
“I’m not sure. Would you like us to open one?”
“Yes, please.”
The sound of a knife running across packing tap echoed in the background as one of the maids no doubt opened the box.
“It’s Portadillo granola, Miss Dempsey.”
It’s… what? There was no way my father was sending me twelve cases of my favorite gluten-free granola… which meant this delivery definitely wasn’t from him.
“That’s weird, especially given I didn’t order it. I’m sorry it’s taking up space; is there room in the kitchen to store some of it?”
“Yes, Miss Dempsey. I’ll have the rest put in the storage room and instruct the kitchen staff to keep it restocked for your breakfast.”
I thanked Gretel and hung up. I highly doubted my mother would have thought to do this. She definitely hadn’t stopped trying to force eggs on me in the mornings. Maybe Byron had ordered the granola for me? If he had, I was touched by the thoughtful gesture. I’d have to remember to thank him for it.
Arena snapped her textbook shut, shoving it in her book bag. “So, what are we doing for the rest of the day? Hanging out at your place so I can drool over your incredibly fine stepbrothers?”
I rolled my eyes. “Sure, they’re hot if you’re into fuckboys who only care about themselves.”
I felt a pang of guilt in my chest at the lie. Fuckboys who only cared about themselves didn’t save their new stepsister from charity sex rings. Or, in Presley’s case, get them off hard in dark storage rooms.
But if anyone—even Arena, although she probably suspected after I’d disappeared at the party—ever found out the filthy things I’d been dreaming about them, or the scandalous acts Presley and I had committed together, it would be a fucking disaster. Better to exaggerate my disdain for them and really sell it than fall short and raise any kind of suspicion.
Arena leaned back on her hands, a dreamy expression on her face. “You’ve just spelled out my type exactly. And there’s three of them. Do you think they’ve ever had a foursome with the same girl or do you think if I propositioned them, I’d be the first?”
Now it was my turn to swat at her. “Seriously, Arena, get a grip on your libido and stop drooling over my family.”
Good thing Arena didn’t know that her exact scenario had played out in my dreams more than once. But the idea of them doing it with Arena—or anyone else—had that crazy jealous creature rearing inside me. Which was stupid for many reasons.
I wrapped my towel around my torso, tucking it in under my arms and staring at Arena. I was so thankful for the way that she’d crashed into my life on my first day at Triple C. Being able to stay for Arena was almost enough to have me going to Byron and my mother for help about the threatening letters my father had been sending.
But my mother had made it very clear that our new life here—her precious new existence that meant more to her than anything else—wasn’t to be tainted with the darkness of our past. What she really meant was that she didn’t want Byron to ever learn how beneath him my mother actually was. She put on a good show of playing the role of the perfect society wife, and had fooled him enough to get him to marry her. She was living her dream and wanted to keep it that way.
My problems—these threats against me—would be an inconsequential thing of the past for her.
Arena eyed me warily. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
I shrugged. “I can’t appreciate how hot you are and what a good choice I made for my best friend?”
She snorted a laugh. “Bitch, I chose you. You had no choice in the matter.”
I rolled my eyes good naturedly, waving goodbye to her as I headed to the locker room to shower.
By the time I was done, the locker room was deserted. I dressed fast, towel drying my hair and tying it up in a half-wet bun on top of my head. Once I threw on some underwear and a hoodie with a pair of Triple C sweats and some slides, my fashionable ensemble was complete. I’d call this one homeless chic. Or standard swim team post-practice attire.
The pool deck was empty when I strolled out, one of the coaches moving around in their offices at the top of the bleachers, likely packing up to leave for the day, but the blinds were drawn.
A voice stopped me mid-stride.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Trenton said as I passed where he was leaning against the wall between the male and female locker rooms.
I stopped short, swivelling to face him in surprise. “I’m not avoiding you, Trenton. I just have nothing to say to you. We have nothing to say to each other.”
There was a calmness to him that was unnerving when he pushed off the wall and casually moved to close the space between us. “I disagree. We have a lot to talk about.”
I rolled my eyes, opening my mouth to answer him, when his hand shot out and closed around my neck and my back slammed against the tiled wall.
“Don’t fucking mouth back at me, Dempsey. I’ve had enough of your disrespect. You’re making me look weak and unwanted in front of the other families.”
My hand closed over his wrist, trying to tug his hand free, but his fingers closed around my throat, squeezing the breath out of me.
“I spelled out the rules your first day at Triple C.”
I smacked at his wrist, trying to dislodge his fingers as I fought to draw breath. My fingernails dug into his skin but his hold didn’t falter.
Trenton ducked his head so we were eye to eye. “I’ve claimed you, and it’s time for you to fall in line.”
My voice rasped in my throat as I tried and failed to tell him where the fuck he could go. Then I pulled up my knee directly into his groin.
He groaned, his hand loosening from my throat as he bent in half, cupping his balls. I sucked in a desperate breath.
“What the fuck is wrong with you!” I rasped at him, pushing him aside.
He fell to the tiled floor, still clutching his tiny dick, but I didn’t hang around to make sure he was okay.
I bolted for the door as fast as my feet would carry me. My throat burned and my eyes watered with tears.
No, you will not cry. Not here.
I wasn’t going to fall apart in the parking lot of Triple C over a fucking psycho like Trenton.
There were only a handful of cars left for the night, and I scanned the lot for Presley’s bright blue Mercedes. He was supposed to give me a ride after he finished football practice and I was done in the pool.
Where the hell was he?
Brushing a hand over my aching throat that was sure to bruise, I slid my phone from my hoodie pocket and checked it for messages.
There was nothing.
I dialled his number, listening to it ring until his voicemail picked up. I immediately hung up and sent him a text.
Dempsey:What the fuck, Pres? You’re supposed to be giving me a ride? Where are you???
I tapped the send button just as my battery hit zero percentage and my screen went black. Fuck! Why was this happening to me right now?
Sucking in deep breaths in an effort to hold myself together, I glanced around at the nearby buildings. Surely one of them was still open and would have a phone? Or maybe I could try the dorms? But the thought of standing outside, dialling room after room in the hope that someone answered, listened long enough to let me explain myself, and let me come up to use their phone was enough to make me dismiss that plan. And I really didn’t want to answer questions about why I was struggling to speak or the finger-shaped marks that had no doubt started to appear on my neck.
“Dempsey!” a voice called from across the lot.
I glanced over my shoulder to find Trenton coming for me.
Oh, hell no.
Hitching my bag higher on my shoulder, I started across the lot in the other direction, making it to the path and hurrying along.
“Dempsey!” Trenton called again, his voice further away than before.
There was no way in hell I was going to let him close enough to touch me again. The guy was a sociopath.
Cursing Presley’s name every step I took, I made it to the edge of campus, glancing each way down the sidewalk of the main road.
I had no phone. No one knew where I was. And I had no way of getting home, other than walking. For miles. In the dark. In fucking slides.
But what choice did I have?
I started in the direction of the Aston estate. It would take me more than an hour to get there, Dacre had said as much on my first day when I’d tried to walk instead of riding with them.
Several cars passed me as I walked, all in a rush to get home. Each time the shine of the headlights lit up the road, I prayed none of them were Trenton. I didn’t think I could keep it together through another altercation with him. I’d crumble.
I’d been walking for at least twenty minutes, the slides starting to rub painfully against my feet, when a giant grey truck with blacked-out windows drove past so close the rush of air almost bowled me over.
“What the hell is your problem?” I called, knowing full well they’d never be able to hear me.
Only maybe they did.
Brake lights lit up the road and the truck slowed. Then turned around.
Fear unfurled in my stomach as the truck drove by me at half-speed going the opposite way this time. The windows were so dark it was impossible to see inside.
I kept moving, watching the truck out of the corner of my eye. It moved further down the street, back the way it had come, and I relaxed… but then the brake lights lit up again and it pulled a U-turn, heading back my way a third time.
“The universe is really trying to screw me over today,” I muttered to myself, hoping if I acted like I wasn’t freaking the heck out right now I might actually start to believe it.
Walking as fast as I could, I tried to make it to the corner.
And then what? Did I really think I was going to out-walk a damn truck? Was it Trenton behind the wheel?
From the corner, I glanced down both streets. The truck was gaining on me. I opted for left, cursing when the street led to an open field and not houses. I must have pissed off the karma gods good and hard in a past life.
Glancing back at the corner, I tried to convince myself that I was just being paranoid. The person driving the truck was lost, that was all. It wasn’t following me. It was going to drive right by this street and continue on the main road.
Only it stopped and so did my heart.
The wheels turned in my direction, the engine revving as the truck sped towards me.
Oh, fuck.
I turned back around and bolted along the sidewalk, my book bag thumping against my back and my slides barely staying on my feet. The truck’s engine revved harder, the sound getting closer and closer until it was right on my heels.
“What the fuck do you want with me?” I called out, but my voice was still a hoarse whisper.
Ripping my bag from my back, I tossed it at the truck. It landed on the hood with a thud. What I thought my damn book bag was going to do against a three-ton pickup truck, I didn’t know, but I was panicking, and the bag was the only weapon I had.
The truck revved harder, gunning for me, and my heart was instantly in my throat, fear rocketing through me.
I turned and ran, the slides slipping from my feet as I veered right into the open field praying they wouldn’t follow me since there were no roads.
No such fucking luck.
The truck followed, careening across the grass like it was trying to get in front of me, trying to herd me like cattle to cut me off.
Pulling a one-eighty, I bolted back towards the road.
Whoever it was behind the wheel, they could easily catch me. Instead, they were toying with me. Playing a torturous game of cat and mouse to wear me out.
If it was Trenton behind the wheel and he was trying to scare me, it was working.
My heart was thundering in my chest and adrenaline pumping through my veins, fueling my already fatigued muscles. I was going to lose this game, and I had no idea what the heinous prize would be when they caught me.
I reached the road, praying to any deity who would listen to let me get out of this alive.
A car screeched to a halt in front of me in a blur of red, and I pulled up fast to keep from slamming into it. My hands planted on the hood, my upper half sprawling across it.
The door opened. Dacre was in the passenger seat and Sinclair was behind the wheel. Relief flooded me so fast I could cry.
“Get in,” Dacre ordered, his eyes hardened with anger.
He didn’t need to ask twice. I threw myself into his lap and he slammed the door behind me.
My whole body trembled, my chest heaving as I tried to get my breath back.
“What the fuck happened?” Sinclair snapped, eyes darting between me and the truck.
I shook my head, eyes glued to the truck which had stopped at the edge of the field. Sinclair pulled a U-turn just as the driver’s door to the truck opened.
My stomach lurched, fear instantly flooding my body at the sight of the tall, broad, dark-haired man staring back at me.
Algor.
My father’s right-hand man.
He’d finally come for me.