7. Chapter 7
Chapter 7
Annie
M y head is throbbing as I come down the stairs. Neither Mel nor I managed to fall asleep easily last night, so we turned to a bottle of prosecco for help. Neither of us is a big drinker either, hence the hangover.
I find Mireille standing by the large glass doors in the kitchen that open onto the patio, coffee in her hand, already dressed for school—if her short skirt and tank top count as clothes. She has a fantastic body with curves in all the right places, and she’s always liked to flaunt it, but ever since she started seeing that gang of bikers, she’s taken it up a notch.
“Care to explain that ?” she demands by way of greeting, pointing to the black cars just across from our front lawn. “
“Mel is staying here. Her family is— ”
“Don’t give me that crap.” She interrupts. “If that were true, then Melody Sorbaine would have bodyguards trailing after her on campus too, but she doesn’t. Beast Mode couldn’t even get in last night.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Really? How did they even catch him trying to?”
I know I never catch the bearded biker with the forked tongue entering this house. I only ever see him go, and I have a feeling that only happens because he lets it. He likes people seeing him come out of Mireille’s room. It’s his way of staking his claim on her, otherwise he’d move like a ghost. Still, she prefers to keep their thing low-key, and she still flirts with other guys on campus.
“Beast Mode couldn’t get in because those guys are the best security the world has ever seen,” Mireille argues. “This is Heathen level protection.” She walks over to the kitchen island and sets her mug down. “You better start talking, bitch.”
I open my mouth, but have no idea what to say. Luckily for me, Mel walks in, her satin robe trailing after her .
“That coarse language never looked good on you, Mireille,” she says, sauntering over to the coffee machine, her hair shining like silk in the morning light. I’ll never understand how she manages to look so perfect early in the morning.
“Oh, you know me, Melody, I’m a slut through and through.”
Mel glares over her shoulder, and Mireille glares. Then they both break into laughter, and Mel turns so they can hug each other.
They couldn’t be more different, the classy tobacco empire heiress and the loud, flirty cheerleader, but then again, all of my girls are very different from each other. Yet deep down they’re all wild souls who enjoy their independence—as much of it as they can grasp. Sometimes I think that’s what draws men to them so intensely, no matter if they are virginal vestals, like Mel, or the archetypal mother of demons, like Mireille.
The only anomaly in the group is me.
The girls always said they loved my bubbly personality, and Mireille basically hunted me down for the cheerleader team because of my, quote, “pretty, sweet face and awesome ass”. But then she realized that I lacked any dancing skills whatsoever, and that I was cut from a completely different cloth from the rest of her friends. By that time it was too late though, we’d already hit it off.
“So, what’s the story?” Mireille asks as Mel heads back to finish making her coffee, hiking herself up on a kitchen stool. “Why is this place guarded like a fucking fort?”
“Because of the princess over there.” Mel glances over her shoulder as she works the machine. “Some guy came on to her last night at the pub, and Carlton Wilde went ballistic.”
Mireille turns to me with an open mouth. “So he is crazy about you.”
“Not that it’s good news,” Mel says before I can reply. “It all happened in front of his fiancée, Rosalind, and she sure as fuck hated it.”
“Rosalind Hayes.” Mireille whistles, leaning on the island with both hands cupped around her mug. “Vicious little bitch that one. I wouldn’t want to get on her shit list.”
“Not a cozy place to be, I guess.” I shove a lid over the pang of jealousy in my chest. “But there’s bigger fish to fry. Like the spectators from the church having found out who I am.”
Mireille’s jaw drops. “They what?”
Mel tells her the story as she joins us at the kitchen island. Cecilia walks in just in time to hear the conclusion, but I guess the details are self-explanatory at this point, with all the guards outside.
“They hunted Annie down to make her pay the price,” Mel concludes. “Which Carlton Wilde offered to pay in her place.”
“Wow,” Mireille blinks, shifting on her stool and crossing her legs. “He’s definitely into you. In a whole other way than we expected, but there we go.”
I frown at her. “What do you mean?”
“It’s obvious, isn’t it? He’s with Rosalind, and he’s going to marry her. But what he does outside of that relationship is catering to his hidden, darker needs. And he’s hung up on you that way, if the risks he’s taking are anything to go by.”
“It’s what I said last night,” Mel says, lifting the mug of coffee to her lips.
“I hear the Elders are in talks with the Daytona royals,” Cecilia says to Mel. “To, you know, seal a deal between your families the way they did between Hayes and Wilde.”
My eyes snap to Mel. “They’re what?”
Mel throws Cecilia a sharp glare. Clearly, she didn’t want this out yet, not even to me and the girls, which stings.
“That’s confidential information.”
“That’s fucking huge,” I react. “I can’t believe you haven’t told us.”
Her eyes turn to me sharply. “Not huger than you and Carlton.”
“There’s nothing between Carlton and me, not in any real sense.”
“The guards outside would beg to differ,” Cecilia puts in.
“It was Sade and Micah who sent those guards,” I argue. “It wasn’t Carlton.”
“No. Carlton pledged himself against six men who are out to get you, seven if you count Aragon Kovac, who is a King,” Mireille says. “Baby girl, I’m afraid you’re more tangled with this guy than you ever hoped you’d be.”
“Tangled isn’t how I’d put it,” I mumble .
“Me either,” Mel chimes in. “Chained is more like it. And those guys outside?” She motions with her thumb over her shoulder. “They might be able to keep hitmen and even Micah’s bikers out, but they’re no match for Carlton Wilde. They won’t be able to keep him out when he decides he wants another piece of you.”
Mireille leans over the kitchen island with a grin. “When he realizes he can’t go another day without another piece of your delicious little pussy.”
“It sure sounded like he couldn’t get enough of it the other night,” Cecilia adds with a very rare smile. She’s been the perfect picture of gloom lately.
“Stop it,” I demand. “You evil witches are making me get my hopes high again. And that’s the last thing I need, remember?” My eyes run over all three of them.
“Oh, we do remember,” Mel says. “Because none of that is as sweet as it sounds. If Carlton’s control does snap and he comes after you, he might bite into you like a pitbull and not let go again. You may think that’s all you ever wanted, but trust me, it’s not. Sooner or later, you’ll desire a true, nurturing relationship with someone, and he’s not the type to share. He’ll scare away all possible boyfriends, while he’ll be cozily married to Rosalind.” There’s an ominous tone to Mel’s words that silences all of us, including Mireille. She clearly doesn’t believe he’s “not that into me” anymore, and Cecilia has always been certain he’d come back for more, but Mel’s view on it is far more gloomy. And, for some reason, it hits home.
The way he looked at me yesterday at the pub, the way he spoke, remembering it raises goosebumps all over me. I’ve wanted Carlton Wilde’s attention ever since he grabbed mine. Now, I realize I might not be able to handle it. Nor should I want to. What I should do is accept that too much is standing between us. That he and I can never be together.
But something tells me things aren’t that simple anymore.
***
Anni e
Despite all my efforts, I can’t be on campus and not scan the place for Carlton the entire fucking time. He’s not in the cafeteria when I walk in with the girls, but I can’t help hoping that he’ll show up. He doesn’t, not by the time I go to my first class, nor my second or my third. By the time evening comes, I’m sure I won’t be seeing him today, and the tension dies down.
There’s relief in disappointment. After all, I wasn’t getting my hopes high with him anyway, was I? So why care if I see him at all?
It’s already dusk when my frayed nerves have calmed down enough for me to be able to focus. I’ve got my Kindle with me to balance out hours of intense work on my laptop, and to get my thoughts off Carlton. It’s going to take a while to forget him after everything that happened between us, so I go easy on myself. Try to be lenient with poor ‘ol me for a change.
I’ve already started working on my final paper, even if graduation is two years away. At this level of competition, you can’t start too early. The paper is about developing a new AI research tool that will strongly resemble the neural pathways in the human brain to help with the development of new medication. Soon, I’m engrossed in my work, especially since the final purpose of this AI is to create new, but benign, narcotics that will rival the effect of drugs on human chemistry, but without all the damage substance abuse involves. Rumor has it that the company funding the college’s research on this topic belongs to Carlton, and I must admit that I admire the effort. What better way to fight drugs than to create an alternative for people? Once they’ve known the pleasure of a high, you can’t just expect them to give it up or accept that they’ll never experience it again. All you can do, if you truly care, is offer a replacement. So, by logical deduction, Carlton cares.
But, as engrossing as my work is, it’s also draining, and I have to disconnect after a few hours. The library is almost empty as I rest my back against the alcove’s wall, my knees up on the bench, supporting my Kindle on my thighs. I usually feel comfortable in complete privacy, but for some reason, something feels off tonight.
I suppose I could blame it on the dark stalker romance in which the hero watches the heroine in her home from the bushes, but it’s not like I’m reading this kind of stuff for the first time. No, this feels different.
I keep glancing up from my Kindle, unable to shake the feeling of being watched. All the sensations I’ve heard other people talk about creep through my system—the hairs rising on the back of my neck, a prickling sensation on my scalp that makes me glance around for suspicious shadows. I didn’t even notice when the last librarian locked up, sunk as I was in my work, so if someone is here with me, they’re not behind the library doors. They’re in the nooks and crannies of the gothic hallway where I’m sitting, maybe even in one of the alcoves. I lean sideways, sticking my head outside the line of alcoves. From here, the stairs at the end of the hall seem to be eerily far away, behind a completely dark archway.
“Need some company?”
I jump from my seat to see a male a figure right behind my alcove.
“Jesus freaking Christ,” I yelp. “How long have you been there? ”
“You mean in a reading alcove?” He waves a Kindle at me, which he’s obviously been reading from, and stands up from his spot.
“Thank God it’s you,” I breathe, my shoulders slouching in relief as I recognize Patrick Bell, one of my classmates. Even though he got accepted into Norton King’s based on his family name and money, he’s got the highest grades because of his genius. I really like the guy, but it’s still strange to see him here, with a Kindle no less.
“Never seen you with one of those before,” I observe.
“I’m not a complete tech nerd.” He adjusts his glasses on his nose. “Just don’t tell anyone.”
“What are you reading?” I reach out for his Kindle, but he yanks it away.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
A rush of shame goes through me, and I push my glasses up my nose, holding my Kindle even closer to my chest. It’s no secret to my friends that I have a soft spot for cheesy romances, but my classmates finding out about it is something else .
“Oh, I know, it’s some sort of bodice ripper,” I say with a laugh, kicking the ball back to Patrick. “Why else would you hide to read in the library late at night, if not to make sure you don’t get caught?”
I can’t be sure in the dim light, but I think his brown eyes twinkle behind his glasses.
“Seems I got caught after all.” He mock-bumps my arm, and we both laugh. “Will you show me that Kindle so I feel like less of an idiot?”
If I hadn’t been so taken with my unhealthy attraction to Carlton all these months, I might have noticed Patrick. I’ve always felt comfortable with him whenever we worked on a project together, and now it seems we have more in common than our predilection for tech. I light up my Kindle and turn it around so he can see the title. He bends down a little and holds on to his glasses.
“ Sins of a King ,” he reads, then he shows me the cover of his own book. “Seems I can beat you in the cheesy title section any time.”
I squint in the dim light. Eternal Lovers . I know the title and the author. “It’s old. I think it was released ten years ago, if I’m not mistaken. ”
A feeling of mistrust rises in the pit of my stomach. A progressive, fast-working brain like Patrick’s wouldn’t be enjoying old trends in romance. He’d be all over the newest ones, like me.
“This is the perfect hideout, but it’s getting late,” he says, throwing a look outside through the window of his alcove. He’s trying to ditch the subject. “We should be heading home. How about I give you a lift?”
“No need,” I say, starting to pack up. “I came here in my own car.”
Mel and I were supposed to drive to campus and back together, but she needed to leave earlier today, and I already knew I had to stay longer. I needed to work, but that wasn’t the only reason. I also wanted a break from it all—from the guards, from the feeling of being caged, from my own thoughts of Carlton. But if I trust my gut and Patrick isn’t here because of the reading, then the last thing I want is to be trapped with him in a dark alcove outside the library.
“Then let me accompany you out,” he offers, stepping close, like a leech. “You never know what perils might lurk in the dark. ”
I fake a laugh as I sling my bag on my shoulder and start down the hallway, but this feels creepy as fuck. I still can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching from the shadows, eyes tracking my every move.
“Can I ask you something?” Patrick throws an arm around my shoulders as we head towards the stairs. My spine stiffens, but I have no idea how to react. “Is it true that you lost your virginity to Carlton Wilde?”
I stop, pushing his hand off my shoulder.
“So this is why you’re here?” I confront him, lifting my chin. “To question me about Carlton?”
He steps into my personal space, and this time I’m sure that twinkle in his eye is more than just curiosity. “How did you manage to take him inside you? I hear the bastard has a python in his pants.”
I scoff, turning away from him and starting again down the hallway. “I’m not comfortable talking about that with you.”
He grabs my arm, forcing me to turn around. I slap his hand, but he doesn’t let go.
“You’re getting this wrong, Annie. I’m not coming on to you here, I’m just—” He looks around as if he senses the same eerie presence in the air that I do. “I’m interested for myself,” he whispers. “I mean—” He glances around again, and lowers his voice even more. “You think he takes guys, too?”
I tilt my head back, my whole body relaxing as I understand. “Oh… oh!” I push my glasses up my nose, feeling awkward as I shuffle on my feet. “I got this so wrong, I’m sorry.”
So much for giving it a chance with Patrick if it weren’t for Carlton. But now I understand why he’s asking me this. He’s still in the closet, and a ritual like that with Carlton or another in-demand stud would ensure anonymity.
“I don’t think Carlton—” I shake my head and lick my lips, thinking how to put it and not hurt his feelings. “I don’t think he’s into guys. But I’m sure my contact person can find—” I’m just about to tell him about Doreen when I feel a heaviness to my side, as if the air just grew thicker. Both Patrick and I turn our heads toward it. We cry out at the same time, nearly tripping over each other as we stumble back.
“I hope I’m not interrupting important proceedings.” That deep, thick voice sounds like it’s coming from the bottom of hell .
“I, we—” I’m babbling, with no idea what I’m trying to say.
Carlton’s eyes fall down to where my hands and Patrick’s are joined. We grabbed each other when he appeared out of thin air. I let Patrick’s hands go like they burn not for my own sake, but his.
“We were just talking,” Patrick manages, his eyes so wide behind his glasses he looks comical. Heat shoots into his long, thin cheeks, yet by the way Carlton is glaring at him he got this very, very wrong.
“Seems like the company of my dear sweet Annie is in high demand lately,” he drawls, slowly walking closer. Patrick and I take a step back with each one of his, both of us sensing the danger. It’s spreading into the air like the huff of a dragon ready to breathe fire.
“We were just…we just happened to bump into each other.” The corner of Patrick’s mouth quivers in a failed attempt to smile.
“What a fascinating coincidence,” Carlton says with a chilling, methodical slowness. It raises those tiny hairs at the back of my neck. Now I know exactly who was watching me before. “Do you come here often? ”
Patrick holds up his still lit-up Kindle. “We have this in common, I guess.” He tries for a smile again, and fails just as miserably as before.
Carlton stops, those smoldering eyes narrowing as he scans the book’s cover and the title.
“That’s a fucking century old. Where did you get it, your granny’s attic?”
Patrick glances at me, everything in him oozing out desperation. “No, I…I happen to like older books. Besides, this is a Kindle, hardly the usual find at one’s granny’s.”
“I’m only going to ask this once,” Carlton warns with hair-raising control. “And you better tell me the truth, because I’m going to find out anyway and, when I do, I’ll have your fucking head.” He steps into Patrick’s personal space. “How often do you come here to read?”
Panic lodges in my throat. He has access to all security cameras and all file entries at Norton King’s. Patrick lives in the dorms. If he wants to, Carlton can find out everything my classmate ate for breakfast every fucking day for the whole past year .
Patrick shivers, and I can’t breathe anymore. I’m not even sure what’s worse right now—admitting or lying.
“I was trying to talk to Annie in private,” he decides, hoping it’ll get him off the hook.
Carlton doesn’t reply for long moments that hang in the air like a soul-eating void.
“And you could only do that in the library at night, with no one to step in in case the conversation went, you know, wrong .” It’s a conclusion, not a question, and it’s certainly not helping Patrick’s cause. I think he knows it too, because he’s shivering harder.
“I swear, I had no intention to—”
“Then why the fuck would you want to be alone with her?” The muscles in his arm flex under his T-shirt.
“No, please!” I cry, grabbing Carlton’s arm. It’s impossibly taut under my hand. He’s ready to crash his knuckles into Patrick’s terrified face, and I’m afraid that it will literally kill him. He’s not in the same league as Rainer, not by a long shot, and not even Rainer could hold his own in front of Carlton.
His eyes rake down Patrick’s frame .
“The only reason I’m not snapping your neck right here and right now, boy, is that I only pick on motherfuckers my own size. Here’s your chance to get out of here in once piece, but remember—every time I catch you around Annie, I’ll break a fucking bone. The third time, I’ll relieve you of your crown jewels.”
“Please,” Patrick says, stepping back and holding up his Kindle like a shield. “You’ve got this all wrong.”
Before I know it, Carlton grabs Patrick’s jaw, yanking him close. “Run,” he growls in his face, bloodlust exploding into the atmosphere around us.
He lets go swiftly and Patrick reels on his feet for balance, glancing between the two of us. “What have you gotten yourself into, girl?” is written all over his face as he runs off, giving Carlton a wide berth.
Now, left alone with Carlton, my heart pounds in my ears, especially when he settles those smoldering eyes on mine.
“You were flirting with him,” he ascertains. Gathering my stuff to my chest, I push my glasses up my nose and stare up at him as defiantly as my racing pulse will allow.
“I thought we were staying away from each other. ”
“We were.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“I’m trying to figure out why you’re inviting other guys’ attention.” There’s a calm threat in his voice, and I fucking hate the thrill it sends through me. “Wasn’t the experience you had with me traumatizing enough?”
“Is that what you intended it to be?”
“I intended to give you exactly what you came for before I realized who you were. Then shit hit the fan, and now there are at least four sickos after you. I would think you’d want to be safe for a while.”
I laugh, remembering how it took every ounce of nerve I had in me to lick that ice cream in front of him, making it clear as day that he could have me again if he wanted to. He chose to look away, and I won’t let him get away with this now.
“Carlton, you made it perfectly clear that you and I were a one and done, I get that. Or, rather, two and done, since you fucked me again at the sorority house while I was passed out—not that I’m complaining. But that’s why I initially got things wrong and basically came on to you with that ice cream. My bad. I promise it won’t happen again. But if you won’t have me, you don’t get to put me off limits for other men, too.” I lift my chin higher, forcing myself to stare back at that smoldering glare of his. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
I try to step by him, but he gets in my way, blocking my path with his huge, perfectly sculpted bulk.
“There are bad men coming after you, Annie. I offered to pay the price in your place, but until I do, you’re not safe. You need to keep away from men.” He takes my chin between his fingers, keeping my face up so he can look directly into it, starting a fire inside me. Damn him. “Now that the entire campus knows what happened between us, every bastard out there wants a piece of you.”
“A piece that you don’t want.” Then, quieter, more honest. “I need to get you out of my system, Carlton, and that might include having to see other men. Believe it or not, not all of them want just to fuck me.”
Okay, I’m saying that just to save some face in front of him. But when his eyes drop to my lips, my thoughts scramble inside my head.
“I know,” he rumbles. “I could just cut their dicks off and feed them to my dogs if all they wanted was to fuck you. But the campus boys who want to experience you romantically—” He leans closer with every word, his lips a breath away from mine, and I can’t bring myself to pull away. I just stare at his mouth, my heart pounding. “It’s them that I want to hurt the most.”
“You’re being toxic,” I whisper.
“I’m feeling toxic,” he growls, closing his eyes and breathing in. Scenting me.
I take a shaky breath. I like the sound of his words too much, but I’ll be damned if I let my hopes soar again.
“You’re not the boss of me,” I push out through trembling lips, and yank my chin back from his clasp.
“I’m whatever I need to be in order to keep you safe.” Carlton’s hand wraps around my arm. “And right now, any man could be out to hurt you. You can’t go around seeing other guys, period.” The look in his eyes turns to black steel. “Challenge that at your own peril. Or, should I say, the peril of those poor bastards. I can get very creative about the things I do to them.”
“You can’t go around hurting innocent people just because you can, Carlton. Just because you’re a King.” I pull back as far as his grip will allow, looking him up and down with feigned disgust.
“There are no innocents until I’m sure you’re out of the danger zone. But here’s what you can do if you want them to keep all their body parts attached to their bodies—don’t flirt with them, and don’t let them flirt with you, the way you did with that poor idiot earlier.”
“He wasn’t—”
“Don’t even. Motherfucker wasn’t a fucking reader. He was using some old romance book to get into your pants.”
“That’s not what he was after.”
“I know a man who wants sex when I see one.”
“He may have wanted sex, but I assure you—” I bite my lower lip to fend off a smile, because this is actually funny, “—he didn’t want it with me.”
He lifts an eyebrow, and I can’t help but giggle.
“He wanted it with you. He was just asking me if you took, you know, male clients too, if that’s what I was. A client.”
“Oh.”
I push the glasses up my nose. Fuck, it was awkward, saying that word out loud .
Carlton tilts his head back so he can look at me down his nose.
“Now that you mention it, you never did pay—me.”
I raise my eyebrows. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.” Doreen made things crystal clear. The payment was for the others, the spectators. Not him.
But then…what was in it for him?
A smirk appears on his face as I realize that I never asked myself that question. I just always assumed he did it for pure pleasure. A pang of jealousy shoots through my heart, because he did it with other women too, and he could well do it again.
“I thought the price was acting out your own kinks. I mean, everybody in those group chats knew your preferences were unorthodox to say the least. Women have to sign up for those kinds of things.”
“Oh, Annie Jones, you’ve experienced none of my real kinks.”
I remember some of his older videos, and I realize with a swift inhale that he’s right. Jealousy blinded me at the moment, and I was too busy making up strategies inside my head to replace those women and experience his touch .
“The things I did to you were sweet romance compared to the stuff I did to them,” he says, reading my expression.
He yanks me to him. I slam into his chest, the impact knocking the air out of me. Or maybe it’s the smoldering look in his eyes, and the wicked promise in them. Holding me flush against his body with one arm, he traces my cheek lightly with his fingers, his eyes following the trail.
“I’ll do things to you that will make those beautiful eyes cry, Lolita. Until this morning, I might have given you a chance to opt out.”
“But not anymore?” I breathe.
“Not anymore.”
“What changed?”
His fingers slip to my jaw, tracing the line of it.
“I see that you might be over me and be willing to move on. And I—” He frowns, a tortured look on his face that makes my stomach flutter. “I don’t think I can live with that.”
“So you’re going to make me pay the price?”
“If you’re ready to fuck a man this soon after you lost your virginity, that man is going to be me.”