Chapter 5
Chapter five
Rylan
“Declined, sir.”
“Are you sure? Can you run it again, please?”
The machine makes the unfamiliar beep once more, the cashier sending me an awkward, apologetic smile while avoiding direct eye contact. “Sorry. Do you have another card you’d like to use?”
Sighing, I pull my wallet out, slapping a bill on the counter. The bastard actually cut me off. I expected it was coming, which is why I started withdrawing backup cash from my account weeks ago.
He’s probably waiting for me to bring it up. Except he’s deliberately chosen now of all times to freeze access.
My father departed for the state capital early this morning for a work trip. I bet if I called him, it’d just go straight to voicemail. This is a classic Astor strategy—a shakedown.
It used to work. It’s not the first time he’s resorted to financial manipulation to get control over me, and I doubt it will be the last. There’s only one problem here. Max Astor, the man who usually accounts and prepares for every possible scenario, has failed to consider a new variable.
A wild card.
And that wild card is Bexley.
Tai—in all his gracious glory—forwarded me a certain video last night.
I should probably feel ashamed or embarrassed to admit that I’ve watched it multiple times.
But seeing Bexley’s beautiful cunt in HD and being able to replay her breathy moans and cries, well, that means more to me than a little strategic financial warfare.
Sleep? It's impossible now.
I’m fairly certain I have friction burns on my dick from the amount of times I’ve jerked myself off over the video.
He knew what he was doing and deserves all the damn credit.
Pulling into the Willowbrook parking lot, I carefully observe the other early students slowly making their way in. There is another upside to all this. Not sleeping means my punctuality is on point—not that I rarely lack it.
But apparently, it’s come in handy today.
I spy with my wicked little eye… one shady jock and a self-obsessed cheerleader.
Liv is anything but tactful when it comes to social appearances. Her entire life is a showcase—a performance of self-proclaimed importance.
When she hands Perkins an envelope with a little pat on his pec, my eyebrows shoot up in morbid curiosity.
It’s not unusual for footballers and cheerleaders to interact. If anything, it’s expected. But not like this.
Olivia only chooses to engage with people who she can use for her own benefit.
If Perkins was Captain, or hell, even a decent player or belonged to an esteemed family within our circle, then perhaps I could overlook this encounter.
But he’s lucky to be in our Willowbrook inner circle at all if I’m brutally honest. The only reason he’s gotten this far over the past few years is his willingness to help us when we’ve called on it.
Never in all the years I’ve known Olivia has she looked his way twice.
When their little rendezvous is finished, I wait for him to disappear through the entrance into the academy before getting out of the truck and making my presence known.
“Bit early for drug deals, isn’t it, Liv?”
Her eyes flare when she spots me, tossing her long hair flirtatiously over her shoulder. “Already coming crawling back, Rylan? I knew you’d get bored of that Cedar trash quickly. It’s fine, I might be able to forgive you if you can make it up to me.”
I shove my hands into the pockets of the hoodie I threw on after my morning run. “Cute. Unfortunately, this is strictly a business visit. Sorry to disappoint,” I add sarcastically. I couldn’t give two shits if I hurt her feelings. That would imply she has any to begin with.
Liv throws her chest out in a blatant desperate attempt to catch my attention. “We really need to discuss this behavior, Ry. I’m sure my daddy could get you some help if you need it. I heard the Lilydale asylum is opening back up.”
“A vacation from you and a free jacket? Sure.”
She makes a small choking noise before quickly recovering. “Seriously. I know you’ve been really stressed,” she murmurs seductively, stepping into me. “I can help.”
Her hand slithers up my chest and I hastily snatch her wrist to remove it from my body.
“Olivia, listen to me carefully. I’m only going to say this once,” I tell her firmly.
“I’m so done with you that I’m counting down the days to when my body finishes shedding the last of any remaining skin cells that may have touched you so that soon there won’t be a single part of me that has physical ties to your existence.
But you best remember your damn place here.
I can destroy you so quickly that everything you love and know will cease to exist. If I find out you’re fucking with us, I promise there’s nothing more you’ll regret. ”
I let go of her wrist, shoving it toward her as I wait for the usual pout or tantrum. Liv takes a step back, tilting her chin up.
“Very bold of you, Rylan. That’s a big threat for someone who’s going down with a sinking ship. If I were you, I’d take a long, hard look at yourself before you make so-called promises of destruction.”
My eyes narrow. “What the hell does that mean?”
Liv smiles sweetly. “I think you know what it means. You’re the laughingstock of Willowbrook right now.
And you can thank your Cedar trash for that.
She’s got you by the balls and everyone knows it.
You’re basically damaged goods—a joke. I was trying to do you a favor out of loyalty for our families, but you’re not worth saving. ”
She laughs, dragging a curled finger across my jaw as she turns and slinks off. Even with her physical presence gone, I still feel disgusted. At her. Myself. Everything.
I wait until she disappears inside the building before digging my phone out of my pocket. Dialing, I listen to the rings until the familiar voice picks up.
“Hunter, we have a problem.”
Coach Carter gives his usual spiel, shooting off instructions for gym while the rest of the class groan miserably.
Sliding up behind Bexley, she doesn’t turn around, but I know she can sense me when her body straightens up.
“My shorts look good on you,” I murmur quietly so only she can hear. Sophia is lurking nearby, already looking an interesting shade of green at the mention of running. Her and Tai are way too similar sometimes.
Bexley twists her neck to glance over her shoulder at me. “These are my shorts, Astor.”
“But I bought them for you. Ergo, mine.”
Her pink lips tilt up in a sly smile. “I don’t think so.”
There’s a spark between us as we lock eyes, and if I had to guess, I’d say her mind is exactly where mine is as well.
“Sounds like you and Tai had a fun afternoon yesterday,” I comment quietly, checking the coast is clear before I place a discreet hand on her hip.
Bexley takes a tiny step back, not enough to draw attention, but it brings our bodies together. Her ass fits snugly against my groin, my erection growing with each passing second.
“It was fun,” she whispers teasingly. “Shame you missed it.”
“Hit the track!” Coach Carter calls out, effectively cockblocking me much to my frustration.
I let out a small growl as the woman in front of me shoves herself backwards when everyone starts to move, pushing her ass into my now painfully hard dick. I squeeze her hip in warning before she skips forward, linking arms with Sophia.
“Off you go, Astor,” Bexley says at a normal volume. “We know how much you like to run ahead.”
“Yeah, like a psycho,” Sophia scoffs, none-the-wiser to our brief PDA session. “I’m too young to die, Bex. Avenge me if I collapse.”
Instantly, I’m annoyed at Tai’s twin for stealing Bexley’s attention from me. The pair walk off dismissively, discussing cardio deaths or something.
I have half a mind to just tackle her on to the grass and pin her down, but unfortunately, that would probably not end well for any of us. I can’t deny I’m intrigued, though, the irrational part of my brain nearly securing the win.
Note to self—must not give in to impulsive ideas.
I’m left with no choice but to take off in a sprint when Coach Carter yells at me to get moving.
At least it’s a cathartic distraction. Kind of.
The usual euphoria of running starts to steal my breath, and I realize I’m sprinting faster than normal to get Bexley back in direct view. When our positions align, I slow a little, gaze firmly glued to her ass as she barely hits a jog.
“Can’t believe she even has the nerve to show her face,” I hear from a few pacers ahead. My eyes lock on the two hockey seniors, speeding up a little to listen.
“Yeah,” his friend laughs. “Who does she think she’s fooling with those bandages? Trying to gather sympathies or something.”
“I’d strangle her with them,” he jokes—Appleton, the hockey co-captain, from memory.
“In bed or?” the other guy, Heathering, asks.
Appleton snorts. “Both, I guess. Don’t get me wrong, she’s hot. But she’s from Cedar Heights. Imagine being baby-trapped with that.”
The two of them laugh at their own pathetic joke as my vision bleeds red. I charge forward, smashing in between them with a jolting shoulder barge.
“What the fuck?” Appleton growls, staggering before the three of us grind to a halt on the track. “What’s your problem, Astor?”
And there it goes—the final rational part of my brain exiting in a haste. “Stop talking shit about people you know nothing about,” I snap angrily. “Maybe if you focused on doing better at gym, you’d actually win your games this season.”
Heathering scowls. “You’re one to talk, Astor. Didn’t we hear a rumor that you were seen kissing that slut in the hallway? I mean, who the hell would choose that over Liv Winston?”
I’m aware that people are starting to stare, stopping as they catch snippets of our conversation as they pass.
Instinctively, I seek out Bexley, relieved to find she’s still jogging ahead, oblivious to what’s happening behind her. Unfortunately, my actions don’t go unmissed by the two hockey dickheads, their heads turning to follow my line of vision.
“Look—I get it, Astor. She’s a hot piece of ass. I wouldn’t mind seeing those lips wrapped around my—”
The sentence gets cut off by my fist smashing into his face.
The three of us end up in an all out brawl, the sound of Coach Carter’s whistle screeching loudly and grabbing everyone’s attention.
Others rush in to pull us apart, and when I’m finally dragged off a bleeding Appleton, I spot Bexley a few feet away, her eyes wide.
Our gazes lock, and I get the feeling she’s silently asking if I’m okay, like she’s ready to jump in and fight with me if I give the signal.
“Are you kidding me?!” Coach Carter growls, standing between us. “All you have to do is run. It’s not that difficult. The three of you can head to the changing rooms. You’re done.”
Breaking my stare from Bexley, I run a hand through my hair, nodding once at Coach Carter. I feel Bexley’s burning gaze on my back as I march off, but I don’t dare look.
Letting out a deep sigh when I enter the changing room, footsteps follow behind.
Coach is right behind the other two, his dark eyes bouncing between us.
“Get changed and head up to Dean Lannister’s office.
If the three of you decide to stop acting like animals in my class, you can come back next week and give me fifty push-ups. ”
Heathering huffs angrily at the punishment but says nothing. Appleton crosses his arms with a sharp nod, glaring daggers at me.
Too fucking bad. They can keep Bexley’s name out of their fucking mouths.
I send a quick text to Tai as I’m changing back into my jersey, suggesting he arrange a little present for the assholes.
Maybe a montage of all their losing matches this season—there’s certainly no shortage of them.
Put them on repeat on every single screen in Willowbrook or something.
Staff computers too, of course. Hell—make them permanent screensavers.
I sling my bag over my shoulder as I head out of the changing rooms, spotting Bexley and Sophia standing on the edge of the field with a look of concern on their faces. Before I can do or say anything, a booming voice shouts out from behind me.
“Beckett! Spencer! Get running.”