by Ashley Jade
Well, this is awkward.
Katrina smiles nervously. “Can we not talk about this in front of Cain? I don’t want to upset him more than he already is.”
Jesus Christ. I suddenly feel like a child in the middle of a divorce.
“I’m not upset.” I’m a little upset.
“Sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but just because I shared the same cunt with your boyfriend, doesn’t mean I share or inherit your relationship problems. The pussy is the only part I’m interested in.” Damien stubs out his cigarette. “Unfortunately for you, yours is now past the acceptable expiration date.”
Dammit, he not only screwed my girl, he also had a better breakup line.
Katrina understandably looks offended. “You’re an asshole.”
It’s my turn to snort. Telling Damien King he’s an asshole is like telling a deaf person they can’t hear. Utterly pointless.
She grabs her purse. “The two of you can go to hell.”
And she must be blind because I’m pretty sure I’m already here.
Damien laughs as she closes the shed door behind her.
“Something funny?”
He looks around. “You talking to me?”
“What are you, DeNiro? Of course, I’m talking to you. Who else is here—” The sound of clanking outside snags my attention. “What was that?”
He curses under his breath. “That was the sound of us getting fucked.”
“I beg your pardon?”
He walks over to the door and pushes. “She locked us in here.”
I walk over and try it myself. “Shit.”
He rolls his creepy eyes. “Told you.” He pulls out his cell phone from his pocket. “I’m gonna call someone who can get us out.”
I look around. “We can probably get ourselves out. We are in the shop shed.”
His tongue finds his cheek. “See a blowtorch around here?”
No. There’s nothing but wood and basic hand tools. None of which do us any good since we’re locked on the inside.
“Exactly.” He brings the phone to his ear. “Yo, Bagels, it’s D. Listen, I need a favor. I was fucking some bitch in the school shed, but shit went south, and she ended up locking me in here. My phone’s about to die so don’t call me back. Just get your ass to the shed with some bolt cutters.” He’s about to hang up but pauses. “And an eighth of that green lady. I’m good for it.”
I glare at him. “Did you really just call your drug dealer for help?”
The last thing I need is to be discovered in the school shed with Cheech and Chong’s long-lost brother and an eighth of weed four months before graduation.
My father will kill me.
He picks his cuticles. “If you’re so concerned, call one of your own contacts and handle it yourself.”
“I will.” I feel around for my own phone but come up empty. “Shit.”
“What’s the matter, Mr. President? Find a hole in your polo?”
Annoyance skitters up my spine. “I left my phone in the cafeteria.”
He throws his at me. “Knock yourself out.”
I go to dial, but the phone screen goes black. “It’s dead.” Panic rivals my annoyance. “The only person who can help us now is a drug dealer named Bagels who’s probably too stoned to remember his actual name let alone go on a rescue mission.” I scowl. “How the hell my girlfriend cheated on me with someone like you is beyond me.”
He lights another cigarette. “Bagels will come through. Dude can’t say no to a sale. It’s why I asked him to bring weed.” He shrugs. “As for your chick…that’s simple. I’m richer and I fuck better.”
For a moment, I contemplate how to kill him and get away with it. Money is an extremely sore subject for me. Always has been. On the outside, my family looks like they do pretty well. And we would be…if it weren’t for my father’s bad habit of needing to be bigger and better than everyone else around him. His spending habits were easier when he still had my mom’s trust money coming in, but he blew every cent of it—leaving nothing for me or my brother like she wanted.
In the last three years alone he’s purchased two boats, four cars, a vacation home, and tons of other expensive things he’ll never be able to pay off in his lifetime if he doesn’t stop.
I can’t even afford to go to college unless I get a full scholarship or take out a massive loan. Which of course, I’ll be forced to do because my father won’t allow me to be a disgrace and embarrass him.
And yet Damien can spend all his father’s money on drugs and walk around intentionally looking like a bum.
“You’re a scrub, Damien. You’re not rich because you’re intelligent and earned your money with your brain. You’re nothing but a trust fund baby who will end up dying from a heroin overdose by thirty.” I leer at him. “Don’t worry, though. You’ll leave behind three ex-wives who took you for whatever they could, and five kids who hate your guts because you’re a shitty father.” Amusement lines his face as I continue. “As for my bedroom skills, you don’t know shit because I’m sure as hell not screwing you.”
He blows a stream of smoke in my face. “A bit hypocritical, don’t you think? You just told me my future and you don’t even know me.”
“You don’t know me either, asshole.”
“No, I don’t.” He stares at me for a long moment, pondering. “Well…I do know some things.”
I hate myself for feeding into whatever bullshit game he’s playing, but curiosity won’t let it go. “Like what?”
I’m not sure what to make of the expression on his face. I can’t tell if he hates me as much as I hate him, or if it amuses him he annoys me so much.
“I know your dad’s a senator. I know you wear preppy shit like khakis and polos. I know you’re on the debate team. I’ve heard you a few times—you’re not bad…but you could be better.” He takes a step in my direction. “I know your twin brother can be a dick…it’s why people respect him more than you.” He smirks. “I know Gerald Douglas was supposed to win the race against you for student body president, but you rigged the votes.” He fixes my collar and winks. “I know your dad’s credit card got declined at the country club the other day—because I fuck one of the waitresses and she couldn’t stop laughing about it when I saw her later that night.”
He inches closer and it’s all I can do not to deck him. “And I know you never gave a shit about your little girlfriend—because if you did, you would have gone after her…instead, you’re locked in here with me.”
Tension locks my jaw when his lips hover over my ear. “You’re just mad she played you and made you look like a sucker. Because Cain Carter can’t be anything less than perfect, can he? He has to remain in complete control and be an angel at all times. He has to color inside the lines and stick to the script. Just like his daddy taught him.” His voice drops to a whisper and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “We both know you don’t hate me because I fucked your girlfriend…you hate me because I fucked her better and live my life the way you wish you had the guts to.”
I open my mouth to respond, but the sound of something clanking outside catches my attention.
Damien, the fucker, chuckles under his breath. “That must be Bagels.” He throws his cigarette on the ground and steps on it. “Catch you later.” He starts walking toward the door but pauses. “If you ever want to stop being a pussy and have some fun, you know where to find me.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
His cruel, mocking laughter as he walks out of the shed has me thinking up ways to hurt him.
But it also has me wondering what it would be like to be Damien King for a day and live life the way he does.
To break all the rules and not give a fuck about the consequences.
Chapter 10
Eden
“What is it?”
Claudia shrugs, appearing just as baffled by the two large boxes as I am. “I have no idea. It came addressed to the birthday girl.”
I
eye her skeptically. I know for a fact the woman had a hand in all the gifts I’ve received from Cain this year.
I look at the diamond tennis bracelet on my wrist. It’s thin, delicate, and perfect. One of the best birthday presents I’ve ever received. Claudia might have hideous taste in clothing, but her eye for jewelry is on point.
“Oh, it came with a note.” She makes a face as she hands me a manila envelope. “Feels like there’s something else in there too.”
This is getting stranger and stranger by the second.
I go to reach for it but pause, trying to figure out a polite way to tell her to leave. Cain said he was sending me a surprise soon, and if this is it, I don’t want to open it in front of her.
Luckily, I don’t have to because Claudia places the envelope on the bed beside me and says, “I’ll give you some privacy.”
I pick it up, but then I notice one of the boxes—the biggest of the two—has Open me first scrawled on it.
I bite the inside of my cheek as I take the top off the box and wade through the mountains of tissue paper. I don’t want to smile since I’m still sad and angry with Cain…but I can’t help myself.
Until I see what’s inside.
Why in the world would Cain send me a dress? Especially one as extravagant as this?
Taking it out, I hold it up and examine it. It’s completely sleeveless, and the bodice is black and form-fitting—highlighting the mermaid shape of the dress. Little red jewels run along the sweetheart neckline, giving it an elegant vibe. That alone is enough to make me fall in love, but my favorite part of the dress is the lower half. A dangerous slit mid-thigh leads to a floor-length gown made of sheer black tulle fabric edged with red ribbon.
It’s gorgeous and sexy. But far too fancy for my usual movie nights.
My heart drops when I uncover a pair of black strappy shoes under another layer of tissue paper and put the pieces together.
He knows I can’t go there tonight. I don’t know why he bothered going through the trouble of doing all this in the first place. All it does is remind me how much of a freak I am.
I go to open the second box next, hoping to find a note saying not to worry about the party because we’ll have our own masquerade ball at home—but it instructs me to open the envelope first, so I do.
To say I’m confused would be an understatement because when I look inside all I see is a tiny scrap of black lace and a single string of pearls.
I swallow hard when I realize it’s a G-string made of pearls…along with a note.
Wear these for me tonight.
P.S: Don’t chicken out. Open the last box.
My heart rate accelerates. It’s such a bittersweet feeling wanting something so much…but knowing you can never have it because your own mind won’t let you.
I love Cain, but I’m not strong like he is. I can’t walk into a room full of people who hate my existence. I can’t stand there and smile while they all whisper horrible and untrue things about me. I’ll run out in tears and embarrass myself even more.
My stomach churns with an evil lurch when I take the top off the last box and see a beautiful masquerade mask that matches my dress, along with another note.
We all hide behind a mask, Eden.
Show them yours and I’ll take off mine tonight.
Tears prickle my eyes because he’s not playing fair. He knows I’m not strong enough to do this.
Wiping my cheeks, I grab my phone and click open the Temptation app.
AngelBaby123: This isn’t fair.
AngelBaby123: I can’t do this.
Devil: Yes, you can.
AngelBaby123: I can’t turn my illness on and off like a lightbulb. It doesn’t work like that.
Devil: What’s your worst fear?
AngelBaby123: What?
Devil: What scares you the most about going to the party?
AngelBaby123: The people. I’m afraid they’ll all laugh and say cruel things because of who I am. What they think I am…thanks to the rumors.
Devil: What if you weren’t Eden tonight?
AngelBaby123: A fancy dress and a mask doesn’t change who I am. Everybody will know.
Devil: Put the mask on.
AngelBaby123: This is stupid.
Despite myself, I do what he says anyway.
AngelBaby123: It’s on.
Devil: Good girl. Now look in the mirror.
I pad over to my vanity and sit.
AngelBaby123: Okay.
Devil: What do you see? Not what you think you see, but what you actually see staring back at you?
AngelBaby123: A girl with a mask on her face.
Devil: Tell me who she is.
AngelBaby123: Is this a trick question?
Devil: No. Who is the girl you’re looking at? Who do you want her to be tonight?
AngelBaby123: I’m not sure I know how to answer that.
Devil: Yes, you do.
I close my eyes. I don’t need to look in the mirror to see everything I wish I was. It’s already burned into my heart.
AngelBaby123: I want her to be brave.
Devil: She’s very brave. She knows what she wants and she’s not afraid to go after it.
AngelBaby123: I want her to be beautiful.
Devil: She’s the most beautiful woman in a room.
AngelBaby123: I want her to be yours.
Devil: Then meet me tonight. I’ll send a driver to pick you up in a few hours.
Before I can protest, his username turns gray.
Chapter 11
Cain
Past…
“Are you going to the spring fling?” Julia Brown asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
Peeling my gaze away from the board full of trigonometry questions, I look at her. “I don’t know. Haven’t really thought about it.”
The pen she’s chewing on like a rabid animal nearly snaps. “Gosh, I’m so dumb.”
Julia’s a weird girl.
However, she’s also a smart girl—her SAT scores were off the charts. And now that I’m looking at her for more than a second, I realize she’s kind of pretty. Flat chested and a little chubby…but cute. And she’s without a doubt someone my father would approve of as long as I keep those pens far away.
Too bad I’m not even remotely attracted to her.
Which means she’s ideal for me. Way better than Katrina who had a face and body that appealed to me and my cock.
Releasing a sigh, I mull over the idea of dating Julia.
I’m not proud of myself for categorizing girls based on what they can do for me, but it’s been instilled in me since I was a kid. My father told me early on that I had a choice to make. If I pursued politics, I’d have to marry a girl who was good for me on paper but had no romantic or sexual feelings for. If not—I could be a dentist who goes home to the woman he loves with all his heart and soul night after night.
Because I couldn’t have both.
Emotions—especially love—have no place in politics.
“You’re not dumb.” I give Julia a smile. I might not be attracted to her, but she’s officially on my list of potential options. “Thanks for reminding me about the dance.”
She blushes. “No problem. I wasn’t sure if you were going or not because of the whole…you know. You and Katrina.” She lowers her voice. “For what it’s worth, I always thought you could do way better than her.”
I give her a tight nod.
Katrina and I have been broken up for a little over a week now. She’s called me twice since then, but I have nothing to say to her. Unlike the rest of my classmates who are still gossiping about her cheating on me with Damien.
Granted, the chatter about us isn’t as bad as it was when it was fresh. But still…they’re talking.
Maybe going to this stupid dance with Julia will prove to everyone I’ve moved on and they should too.
I lean over. “When is it again?”
She nearly chokes on her pen. “Next Friday at eight
. In the school gymnasium.” She frantically jots something down on a sheet of paper and hands it to me. “Here, I wrote the date down so you won’t forget.” She comes up for air. “The theme is masquerade.”
I inwardly groan. Why is this town obsessed with masquerade parties? It’s bad enough we have one every year at the old Vanderbilt castle for Halloween. Is it really necessary for them to turn our senior spring fling into one, too?
I take the paper from her and tuck it away. “Thanks.” I start to ask her if she has a date, but the bell cuts me off.
Julia stands, and I follow suit as students fly out of the classroom for dismissal. Not me, though because I’m staying after school to run a student council meeting.
She chews on her pen coyly, which might be cute if it didn’t look like a German Shepard already got to it. “So, does this mean you’re gonna go?”
I stuff my trig book under my arm. “Yeah, sounds fun. Plus, I’m expected to attend all school functions.”
“Right, duh.” She taps her head. “You are our president.”
My grin is smug. “That I am.”
“And you’re so good at it. God, you’re like the best President ever. Even better than the real one.”
Hmm. Maybe dating her won’t be so bad after all. She’s easy on my ego, that’s for sure.
I rub the back of my neck, trying my best to look humble. “You’re sweet. But I’m just a regular guy trying to do what’s best for everyone. I’m no one special.”
She eats it up. “And that right there is what makes you even more amazing. You’re so kind and nice. But you’re also commanding and powerfu—”
“Where the fuck is my phone, Carter?” Damien booms from the classroom door.
Shit.
