Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
Avery arrives back to Hannaford with a white board and a steely determination like never before. I don’t know if it’s a result of her date, or just something that her deviously gifted mind has come up with, but I stare at it for a solid minute before I finally ask her what it’s for.
She stops in front of it and props a hand on her hip, blowing on her coffee absently.
“I feel like the best way to keep everyone on the same page about what we’re dealing with is the board.
I’ll let the boys all know they can add to it if a new threat appears.
We can’t keep overlooking things because one person knows something the others don’t.
One board, total honesty, and fuck everyone who gets in our way. ”
I snort at her and take a gulp. “If a new threat appears, we might need to move the boys, Diarmuid, Illi, and Odie into our room. Stash them under the beds or something.”
Avery grimaces. “I can’t think of anything worse. Odie’s fine and Illi’s hot enough, but Diarmuid sounds like a dick.”
I smirk. “We could take bets on which guy snaps and kills him first?”
“I’d be the first. I’d pay Illi to do it for me,” Avery snarks and sips at her drink.
I nod along. “I know how worried you’ve been about Dairmuid. Inducting him is fucking risky and I’m still not sure how I can get out of it without making him our next threat. Snipers and sharpshooters are not people you want hunting you.”
Avery squints at me, then sighs. “I want to take him out for what he said about you. What, you’re the only one allowed to be protective?
You’re my Mounty; I’d stab anyone who implied you’re a whore for loving those idiot boys.
I’m still trying to figure out if I’m locking the doors and setting this place on fire after graduation or poisoning the water to take out all of the little jealous bitches here. ”
I blush and take another sip of my coffee. Changing the subject seems like the best idea. “What are we going to do about the Morrisons?”
She frowns. “I’m going to very slowly, and very carefully, destroy that man’s business, family, and will to live. The Morrisons are clean, but everyone has a price. I have some… feelers out.”
Right. Feelers. Why does that make me fucking nervous? “Don’t do anything to put yourself in danger, Aves. I can just climb through his window and slit his throat in his sleep.”
Avery laughs at me, like it’s all just a big joke. “I will say, getting Ash pissed off about everything that's going on was the best present you have ever given me. He’s been very… motivated to help me.”
Fuck, that makes me even more nervous. “What have you guys done?”
She lifts her coffee cup up for a sip. “You’ll see, Mounty. You worry about your issues on the board, and I’ll take care of mine.”
Every time I take a breath at Hannaford and think my life is settling into a pattern, something else happens to remind me that isn’t my life.
We’re in my least favorite class of the day when Ms. Vivienne decides to make the next move on the board in her attempts to pry Harley away from me.
She looks over the class with this smug little smirk that sets my teeth on edge, and it’s my first warning that she’s about to start her personal brand of bullshit.
“I’ve made some changes to the syllabus to reflect on the changes that have happened in our classroom.”
What the actual fuck is she talking about?
I tense and Harley cuts me a look. He knows I’ve finished all of the damned assignments already and this just means more fucking work for me. This bitch. Ugh.
“We’re going to discuss personal history, because that’s what all of this is really about.
Sometimes I think, as scholars, we can forget that in every battle and in every significant moment in history, it’s all centered on people.
Living, breathing human beings. So, shall we discuss some of our own history? ”
Fuck that with a cactus. I’m not discussing shit with her or any other rich kid in this class. A few hands raise and some girl starts spouting on about how her family got richer than God, a great opportunity for the narcissists to talk about how great they are.
I relax a little in my chair and let my mind mull over all of the plans I have going on.
“Miss Anderson, would you like to share with the class?”
I meet her eyes and the smug smile is fucking infuriating. “No, thank you.”
The other students all giggle and whisper to each other, like I’m some poor little Mounty girl to pity and poke fun at, but I ignore them all. The whispers will never end at Hannaford, no matter who my real family now is.
“I’m sorry, I worded that incorrectly. Miss Anderson, please share something about your own personal history.”
I glare at her, flirting with danger because fuck it, and say, “My personal history is I grew up in Mounts Bay, worked my ass off to get a scholarship to come here, and now I’m at the top of every class because, again, I work my ass off.”
She steps around her desk and stares at me, shaking her head. “That language shows your poor breeding. However I think it’s commendable; most babies born addicted to heroin don’t fare so well in the IQ lottery.”
The breath leaks out of my lungs as the giggling starts up again.
This cunt—yeah, I said it—this fucking cunt has looked up my medical history.
I’m proud of my steady tone when I reply, “What can I say, I’m a fucking lucky girl.”
She smirks again. “You weren’t so lucky when you broke your leg. How did that happen?”
I lean back in my seat and cross my arms. Harley finally snaps and says, “None of your fucking business.”
Ms. Vivienne glances over at him, all doe-eyed again, and says, “Now, now, Mr. Arbour. Don’t let the crass language of the Mounts Bay local rub off on you.”
He smirks at her. “Maybe while you were digging your fat nose into your student’s private files you should’ve looked at mine as well. I grew up in the Bay with Lips. So fuck off.”
Avery giggles and the sound slices through the whispers happening around us. Ms. Vivienne looks ready to argue with us when Ash joins in the fray.
“If you don’t stop, I’m going to bleed you out. Slowly.”
Blaise snorts with laughter and calls out, “Shit, Beaumont never threatens pussy. You’re really something special, Ms. Whore.”
He looks back and winks at me. I’m still too stunned at Ash’s words to react. Ms. Vivienne is about the same.
I watch as Ash pulls his phone out and hits play on a video he has recorded. The obscene sounds of moaning and grunting start playing.
“Oh, Ms. Vivienne, I don’t see any of your high society breeding here while you’re being fucked over a table by Mr. Trevelen. What does his wife think of this? The alive one I mean, not the one who’s mysteriously ‘disappeared’.”
The whispers turn into giggling and catcalls. Ms. Vivienne’s teeth clench and she takes a single step toward Ash before he stops her with a look.
He taps on the screen again and the moaning changes.
“Does Trevelen know you’re fucking Sebastien Steele?
Does Sebastien know you’re fucking his dad?
And his uncle, both of whom are on the school board.
Isn’t that against the corruption clause?
Something about keeping your dick out of school business?
Hmm. Well. Maybe I should start sending these out. ”
“No—”
Every phone in the classroom buzzes. “Too fucking late.”
Ms. Vivienne’s eyes narrow at him, but she keeps her head held high, which is stupid.
She’s lost what little credibility she had in the classroom and now every student is sitting there whispering and giggling at her.
Ash leans back in his chair, arms crossed, and I know he’s got his signature smug smirk across his mouth.
Avery glances back at me and smiles, winking.
“Mr. Beaumont, that is a gross invasion—”
“So is looking up Lips’ medical history and telling the whole class. So is stealing the recordings of two of your students going for a midnight swim. Fuck, I’d say nothing is as invasive as showing up to your study sessions with no panties and cum leaking down your legs, but you didn’t mind then.”
My eyes flick back to Harley, and he’s watching Ms. Vivienne with a satisfaction that can only come from being pushed too fucking far. No panties. I could rip her fucking face off.
She dares to call my breeding poor?!
Her life is saved by a knock at the door and a red-faced Mr. Trevelen escorting a substitute teacher for the class.
My in-school suspension is lifted, and we don’t see Ms. Vivienne in our history class again.
After family dinner that night, I sit with Blaise while he strums our song out on his guitar.
I hum softly under my breath, just enough that he can hear the tune, and the smile on his face is only a little sad.
I hate the miserable cloud that’s hanging over him again but no playlist, make out session, or gallons of ice cream have managed to fix it yet.
“Ash told me my agent said something to you,” he mumbles, and I shrug. I’ve been waiting for this conversation. I knew it would happen at some point.
“He’s a pervert. I can’t promise you I won’t skin him if I see him again.”
Blaise just nods and finishes off the song with a little flourish.
“I made up my mind; I’m breaking my contract.
Well, Vanth is but it’s my project and Finn is the only musician I work with regularly.
I spoke to him about it while I was in New York and he’s sick of Fyre trying to clean up the songs, too. ”
Finn Benson, the drummer. I try to keep my face blank like I haven’t stalked the utter crap out of Blaise’s career and know everything about the only other person in Blaise’s life he trusts, but he smirks at me and it’s clear I fail.
“You’re not going to fangirl all over Finn, are you? I’ll be hurt you’ve replaced me.”
Avery scoffs at him. “No, you’ll be jealous as hell because you enjoy being her idol.
Besides, you can’t go solo. Do you have any idea how much it would cost you to break your contract?
Without your inheritance, you’ll be bankrupt and begging on the streets.
I think you’re forgetting that you’re a millionaire now, not a billionaire. ”
“I’ll be fine,” he says, nonchalantly shrugging, and Avery’s eyes narrow as she looks at him over her phone.
She’s been messaging Atticus at all hours of the day and night, and I’m waiting for the engagement announcement.
I’m sure it’ll come any day and Ash will start flipping tables and stabbing people.
I make a mental note to hide his weapons.
“You can’t even wash dishes without guidance, Morrison, how the hell are you going to survive poverty?”
The bathroom door swings open and Ash strolls out, tucked neatly into his pajamas, and I look the fuck away before I get caught drooling over him.
I try to fix my eyes on my literature assignment, still spread out in front of me from where I was studying before Blaise distracted me, but Catcher in the Rye just can’t compete with Ash Beaumont’s nipples.
Blaise smirks at Avery and calls out to her twin, “I’m breaking my record contract and paying the company out. I’ll be destitute.”
Ash doesn’t break his stride as he walks over to his drinks tray and pours himself a bourbon.
“Do it; I’ll cover you until you’re back on your feet.
It’s for the Mounty, right? Let Harley know, he’ll be pissed if you don’t let him cover shit as well.
What do your monthly expenses look like these days? ”
Harley is down at the pool, putting in extra training sessions for his upcoming competition. Without Ms. Vivienne’s bullshit study group he’s thrown himself back into a rigorous training schedule, but he’s so much fucking happier now.
Avery’s scowl darkens, and when I open my mouth she shoots me a look. “You bled for your money, Lips, let the fucker starve. And, in fact, Harley isn’t paying shit after everything the Mounty did to get it back for him.”
I join her on the couch and tuck my arm into hers before I help to stop this fight from really getting out of hand. “His agent told me he’d enjoy his turn with me on tour. He was only disappointed it wasn’t you getting passed around.”
Blaise stiffens and looks up. Apparently knowing something happened and hearing the specifics are two very different things.
Avery gags dramatically. “Fine. Ash and I will pay an allowance, but you better make your solo record the best damn thing anyone has ever heard.”
Blaise is still looking pissed, and he only turns away from me when Ash hands him a beer. “It is. Star is going to sing on it too.”
Ash sits next to me and slips a hand onto my thigh to trace little patterns while he drinks his bourbon. “And when do we get to hear this song?”
I clear my throat. “When I can sing it without puking.”