7. Helen #2
“Right, it’s all for the good of the family.” The weight of the world pressed around me, sending an icy dread through my stomach that rivaled the oppressive heat of the overcrowded room.
“We’re Family men. It’s what we’re trained for.”
“Family men. Trained like dogs.”
“Dogs that live in luxury.”
I glowered at him. Julian hadn’t had to pull the metaphorical trigger. Not yet. He didn’t understand the stains left behind. My friend lapped up the cream from his gilded saucer, fat and happy during the meticulous grooming process.
This time last year that had been me. King of the fucking world.
None of it mattered. Most of these fools would go on to be pawns in one another’s games.
Thugs carrying out the orders of their fathers or powerful family members.
Some would be married off to forge useless alliances.
Groomed like pedigree dogs or prestigious show ponies.
Some would become well-trained attack dogs like me.
And after school, when we left that neutral ground and exited the truce of higher learning, I might even have to put a bullet in a few of their heads.
My stomach roiled, agitated by the alcohol. Or maybe by the legacy my dad gifted me. I scoffed, glancing around at the rest of the students in my year, grinding and swaying against one another—my veritable kingdom and the peasants I ruled over.
A very familiar, atrocious, bushy head of curls popped into sight from across the room. I smacked my drink into Julian’s chest, making him splutter and balk as the liquor soaked into his egregiously expensive cashmere sweater.
“That little Monty at our party?” My voice sounded far away.
Julian twisted his head around, eyes blowing wide when he spotted the nerd and her guard dog.
Helen Montgomery stood in the corner, near the table littered with drinks clad in her usual oversized jumpers and school skirt; always half in uniform, even when she didn’t need to be.
She shifted uncomfortably as someone shuffled past her and a flash of pale skin from her thigh blinked in and out of existence.
Tease.
I licked my bottom lip, gaze zeroing in on my favorite target.
She hid herself behind her frumpy wardrobe.
I’d teased her about it a hundred times over the years, but she’d changed over the past summer.
Something in my gut told me she was hiding new curves and everything a teenage boy wanted to get their hands on.
Not that I wanted that from her. She was the enemy.
The little bitch who bit me. And I was triumphant in making her life hell.
Dad would have been proud of me for my actions, and that was enough to keep up the game.
Torment her, because her family challenged mine.
Our rivalry at St. Henry’s would persist past graduation, and she needed to know I wouldn’t go easy on her once we exited the school gates.
Part of me was aware of Brooke Rodriquez at her side. Monty’s little shield blocked half my attempts to approach her last year. I’d been too distracted this year to put in the effort.
I tracked Monty’s movement through the crowd. Watching her, always watching her. I had to. I had no other choice. She was the enemy, of course. It only served the greater good of my family to pay attention to every aspect of Helen Montgomery’s life.
Top in our year, fuck, probably best in the entire school.
She excelled at everything she tried. I noticed her recent interest in fencing and martial arts, and punched a hole through my wall when I learned she beat my take-down record.
Any classes we shared, she sat in the front, always answering or asking questions and beaming at the teachers.
That fucking gnarly head of hair eclipsed the lessons on the board, and some nights I had nightmares of it strangling me.
Julian clocked my obsessive tracking, like a bloodhound on a trail. “What’s your deal with Monty, anyway? You haven’t bothered her yet this year.”
I reined myself back into the confines of my seat. A practiced mask fell over my face as I regarded him. “Haven’t got the time, honestly. She’s inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. Just another toy to play with. Nothing more.”
His brow arched, and a wickedness I’d seen before gleamed in his eyes. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I had a go at her?”
Something sharp twisted in my chest and dropped heavily in my gut. An uncomfortable itch writhed beneath my skin. “Fuck no. Why would I?”
He smirked, lips splitting wide enough to reveal all his teeth.
“Our families are enemies, Julian. Even at school, she’s my rival. Top of the class at fucking everything, and for what? Fucking kiss ass when her nose isn’t buried in a book. She’s annoying. Plus, do you remember when she bit me?”
He rolled his eyes, mumbling. “Only every time you bring it up.”
“She’s a thorn in my side. I’d be top of the class if not for her. No matter what I do, she prevails.” She was undeniably brilliant, I loathed to admit. All those little things I did got her attention. Even if it was for all the wrong reasons, she was looking at me.
Two sparkling blue eyes caught mine from across the room. Bodies moved between us in slow motion. Flashing lights glanced off her pale skin. My heart skittered against my ribs and no amount of air heaved into my lungs filled my chest with a full breath.
“You know what they say about love and hate? It’s a fine line,” Julian said, but I barely heard him.
Her eyes were refreshing pools of cleansing water. Perhaps their depths could drown me or absolve me from my sins. Swimming in those eyes, though full of hatred as she glared at me, for the first time in months, my hands were no longer stained red.
Monty looked away first, breaking the tension, and all I wanted was for her to find me again. I wanted her to look at me, to watch me as often as I did her. I gritted my teeth against the pressure in my chest, knowing I’d do anything to get that icy blue glare to stab me once more.