The Third Strike: Rogues of Everly Prep Book Three

by Wendi Wilson

  But that wasn’t why I fell silent. In all the turmoil my life had become, I actually forgot it was the end of October. Halloween was next weekend.

  “Chop, chop,” Seth said, pulling me from my thoughts. “I’m going to go grab my hoodie, and I’ll meet you downstairs in twenty. Wear something warm. A good portion of the haunt is outdoors.”

  Twenty minutes later, I headed down the stairs to find Josh and Simone waiting for me with Seth. After giving hugs all around, even to Seth, I stood back and looked at them for a moment.

  “Thank you for putting up with me,” I said. “I know I haven’t made it easy.”

  “We love you, Chaz,” Josh said. “We’d put up with your sulking if it was warranted, but in this case, it’s not. Not really.”

  I narrowed my eyes, wondering what the hell he was talking about. I’d lost Mason. I’d say that was a fucking good reason to sulk.

  “Calm down, queen, and hear me out,” he said, holding his palms up in surrender. “I know you think you’ve lost Mason to Charlotte. But you’ve forgotten one key point—it’s only for seven months. When he and Stella turn eighteen, the threat is gone.”

  Josh was right. I had forgotten. Sure, seven months of watching Charlotte hang all over Mason was going to be hell, but I needed to remember it had an expiration date. It wasn’t forever.

  “There’s that smile,” Simone said, clapping her hands together. “Nice to have you back, friend.”

  “It’s good to be back,” I replied, my smile growing wider.

  I could do this. I could live my life for seven months without Mason. I wasn’t some needy clinger whose life was over when she separated from her man. I was a strong, independent woman who made her own happiness.

  I just forgot that for a while.

  “Let’s go get the shit scared out of us,” I said, heading for the front door.

  “Yes,” Josh said, drawing out the word into four syllables as he pumped a fist into the air.

  As we walked out into the cool evening air, I felt like a whole new me. I wasn’t the old, cynical loner or the sexed-up teen high on first love. I wasn’t the lonely, depressed sad-sack, either. I was somewhere in the middle. Somewhere closer to happy.

  Phineas and Gwyneth Bellamy were awful people. They used their awful money to manipulate everyone around them. They’d gone to ridiculous lengths to mold their children into the adults they wanted them to be—power hungry assholes just like themselves—and it hadn’t worked. They were completely uncaring of their kids’ happiness and well-being. They only wanted obedience.

  Sure, Mason and Stella were following the rules for now, but when they turned eighteen, that would all end. And finally, they’d start to really live their own lives…with me and Seth.

  Until then, I could be patient.

  And right then, I made a promise to myself to really start living again in the meantime. It was senior year, and I wasn’t going to waste another minute of it.

  27

  “They’ve set me up on a date with Randall Walsely.”

  Stella’s voice startled me, and water flew everywhere as I jerked my hands from the stream in a panic. I’d been in the girls’ restroom by myself, and her sudden appearance nearly gave me a heart attack. How did she even know I was in here?

  “Wait, what?” I asked, her words finally registering.

  “Randall Walsely,” she reiterated. “My parents contacted his mom and dad. They made some kind of deal, and now I’m supposed to date him.”

  “But…he’s a slimeball,” I said lamely.

  “I told my parents that,” she shouted, pacing back and forth in front of me. “I also told them he’d probably rape me on the first date.”

  “What did they say?”

  “Mom told me to give him what he wanted, and it wouldn’t be rape.”

  “What in the actual fuck?!” I roared so loud, they probably heard me on the other end of the building.

  “Are you really surprised?” she asked, her voice eerily calm.

  I took a deep breath and blew it out. “No, I guess not. Have you told Seth?”

  She shook her head. “No. Dad figured out I’d switched out the disposable phones, and now I have no way to contact him. Plus he’s got me under constant surveillance. I can barely take a piss without someone asking what color it is.”

  “Just say no,” I offered, knowing it was a stupid answer.

  No one says no to the Bellamys. Well, except maybe Atticus, and he didn’t stand his ground until he was a grown man with a nearly-grown son.

  “I’ll talk to Seth,” I promised when she didn’t respond to my suggestion. “We’re going to figure out how to fix this.”

  “There’s nothing anyone can do. They have all the power. I can’t go against them, or they’ll punish me. I can’t leave, because they’d just drag me back before selling me to that old lecher in Europe.” She paused for a moment with wide, sad eyes. “But Chaz, I can’t give myself to Randall Walsely. I don’t want to be anywhere near him.”

  She shivered at the thought, and a shiver wracked my body in response. Stella had no business being anywhere around that sleaze Randall, and Seth was going to lose his shit when he heard about this. I needed to be the one to tell him.

  “We’ll figure this out, Stella,” I said, giving her a quick hug. “Now, go to class, so whoever is watching you will follow and won’t see me leaving. I’ll find Seth and get him out of here, far away from anyone who could report back to your parents, before I tell him. When we come up with a plan, I’ll find a way to get to you. I promise.”

  “Thanks, Chaz. You’re a good friend,” she said, hugging me back.

  “How is Mason doing?” I couldn’t resist asking as she turned to leave.

  She spun back around and gave me a soft smile. “He misses you every day, and is counting the minutes until we turn eighteen and can put our parents’ bullshit behind us.”

  Then she was gone, and the door was swinging closed behind her. I waited five more minutes, then cracked the door open to peek out. The hallway was deserted, and I rushed out, heading left toward the science hall where I knew Seth was in class.

  When I reached his classroom, I leaned over to peer through the small window in the door. Electricity shot through me as I met the bright blue eyes I’d dreamt of every night. I pulled myself together and lifted my hand pointing to Mason’s right and mouthing the words, “I need Seth.”

  With a barely perceptible nod, Mason leaned over and whispered near Seth’s shoulder. His eyes flew toward the door, spotting me in the window. I waved him forward, then ducked away when I noticed his professor turning her head in my direction.

  One minute later, the door swung open and Seth strolled out.

  “What is it?” he asked, his eyes roaming over my body. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I said, grabbing his hand and dragging him down the hall. “We need to leave.”

  “Why?”

  “I need to talk to you about something, and we can’t talk here. Let’s go home.”

  I pulled him to the front office, then bent at the waist and clutched my stomach before shuffling through the door.

  “Mrs. Jones,” I gasped as if I was in pain.

  That redheaded bitch of a receptionist arched a brow at me and said, “Why are you out of class, Miss Miller. That’ll be one day’s detention.”

  Whore! My mind raged.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Jones,” I said, accelerating my breathing. “My stomach hurts. Bad. It could be appendicitis, and I need to check myself out.”

  “Fine,” she said, thankfully dropping her detention slip pad before filling it out.

  “And I need my brother to drive me home,” I choked out through the “pain.”

  “You don’t have a brother,” she shot back.

  My dramatic groaning stopped and silence fell between us as I narrowed my gaze at her for a full five seconds. Bitch.

  I picked back up with the moaning and harsh breaths,
spitting out, “My stepbrother, Seth Kincaid needs to check out to drive me home.”

  “That’s not a valid reason for an absence—”

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Seth cut in as he barged through the door. “Penelope, we’re leaving. Check us out.”

  Penelope? Who the fuck knew this bitch had a first name? And why was Seth using it?

  Penelope’s cheeks turned crimson as she nodded and tapped her long fingernails against the keyboard attached to her computer. Then she looked back at Seth.

  “You’re both excused. Goodbye.”

  Seth took my arm and helped me hobble outside. I kept up the charade in case anyone looked out the windows, and made Seth assist me into his car.

  “Overkill, much?” he asked as he slid in behind the wheel and cranked the engine.

  “Penelope?” I shot back, and he smirked.

  “I caught her sucking Swain’s dick sophomore year. She saw me watching but never told him. Since they’re both married to other people, she does whatever it takes to keep me quiet.”

  “And you just thought to share this, now? I could have used some leverage over her months ago.”

  “You can handle yourself just fine, Chaz Miller,” he said, grinning. “Tell me why you pulled me out of school in the middle of the morning.”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “Not until we get home.”

  “That bad, huh?” he asked, his smile dropping into a deep frown.

  “Yep,” I said.

  He didn’t ask any more questions, and we spent the rest of the ride home in silence. I used the few minutes it took to organize my thoughts.

  I needed to figure out how to tell Seth about Randall while keeping him from exploding with rage.

  “The fuck, you say?”

  Well, that went well.

  “Seth, calm down.”

  “Don’t tell me to calm down, Chaz. Those assholes controlling us is bad enough, but now they want Stella to be with that fucking pervert, Randall Walsely? No. Fuck no.”

  “We won’t let that happen,” I said, keeping my tone calm and even. “That’s why I brought you home—so we could come up with a plan to stop it, for Stella’s sake.”

  Thank God Charlotte had spilled the beans about our house being bugged. Atticus had hired a team of professionals to come in a sweep the entire mansion. They found everything, and gave us a small, black device that was guaranteed to scramble the signal for any remote recording device or camera they might try to plant here again.

  “What is going on in here?”

  We both looked up to see Atticus in the doorway, a concerned expression on his face. Mom ducked around him, coming into the room and heading straight for me.

  “Chaz, are you okay? You didn’t get suspended again, did you?”

  Valid question.

  “No, Mom. Nothing like that.”

  “This is worse,” Seth said, plopping down on the couch and burying his face in his hands.

  Mom and Atticus looked at me for an explanation, so I motioned them toward the loveseat adjacent to the couch and took a seat next to Seth.

  “Phineas and Gwyneth strike again,” I said. “They are trying to force Stella to date Randall Walsely, who happens to be the grossest, perviest guy at Everly Prep.”

  “Why won’t they just let her date Seth?” Mom asked. “He’s got to be a much better catch than this Randall character.”

  That was a good question.

  “It’s mostly because of me,” Atticus answered. “They know they can’t control me, so I don’t fit in with their plans. And whatever control they have over Seth goes out the window if Stella isn’t in danger of being given to someone undesirable.”

  “He’s a sadist,” Seth groaned. “He’s going to hurt her, physically.”

  “Do the Bellamys know this about him?” Mom asked, horrified by the thought that any parent would willingly let their child be hurt.

  I cringed, offering, “When Stella told them he’d probably rape her, Gwyneth told her to give it up freely so it wouldn’t be rape.”

  “What?!” Seth roared, leaping to his feet.

  “Sit down, son,” Atticus ordered, and Seth obeyed with a frown. “We’ll figure this out, but we need to keep a clear head.”

  Seth gave him a curt nod, and Atticus whipped out his phone. His finger tapped the screen several times before he held the phone to his ear.

  “I need you…Yes, at the house…Okay, see you soon.”

  “Who was that?” Seth asked.

  “My lawyer. He’ll be here in ten minutes.”

  “Lawyer?” I asked.

  Atticus nodded. “One way or another, we are going to get Stella out of that house.”

  28

  The solution was so simple, it was almost ridiculous. Atticus had called his lawyer over to talk about the emancipation process, but as it turned out, in our state, a seventeen year old could move out without their parents’ permission.

  If Stella left their home, the Bellamys would have no recourse and no say in anything she did from that moment on.

  The moment the words passed the lawyer’s lips, Seth was out the door, heading to Everly Prep to pick her up and bring her back here. She needed to be a part of this conversation.

  “How can we make sure they don’t…I don’t know, try to force her back home?” I asked after several minutes of silence.

  “As long as she has a stable home where she can set up a permanent residence, they can’t. If she were, say, living on the street, a judge might side with them and threaten her with juvenile hall if she doesn’t return to their home. But if she’s safe and well-cared for, there’s not much they can do. Especially since she’ll be eighteen in a few months.”

  “They have a lot of money,” I said, an uneasy feeling building in my gut.

  “I have more,” Atticus stated, his tone filled with conviction. My eyes jerked toward him, and he gave me a solemn nod. “Stella can stay here as long as she needs to.”

  I jumped to my feet and charged him. His arms opened just in time for me to leap into them. He hugged me tight against his chest, and I kissed his cheek.

  “Thanks…Dad,” I said, swallowing thickly as he set me back on my feet.

  “You’re welcome,” he said softly, his own eyes looking a little misty.

  Seth strode through the open door, pulling Stella along behind him. I turned to greet her, but my mouth stopped working when Mason Bellamy stalked in after them.

  “Mason,” I breathed.

  Before I could blink, I was in his arms, and he was cradling me to his chest. I cried in earnest, the feeling of being home within his embrace almost too much for me to bear.

  “I’ve missed you,” he whispered into my ear. “I love you.”

  I squeezed him tighter, then brushed my lips against his before releasing him and taking a step back. This reunion would have gone a lot differently had we been alone, but for now, we needed to keep it strictly PG.

  “What is going on?” Stella asked. “Seth wouldn’t tell us anything.”

  “I’m John Waterson,” the lawyer said, moving forward to shake first Stella’s hand, then Mason’s. “I think we have some good news for you.”

  After he explained Stella’s right as an almost-legal adult, he handed her a business card and told her to call him if her parents tried anything highhanded. He’d be there in a flash to protect her. She thanked him profusely, and he was barely out the door before Seth picked her up and spun her around with a loud whoop.

  “But, where will I stay?” she asked as he set her back on her feet.

  “You’ll stay with us,” Atticus said, his words startling Seth, Stella, and Mason.

  “What?” she breathed like she couldn’t believe she’d heard right.

  Atticus nodded. “We have plenty of room, or you can bunk with Chaz if it will make you feel more comfortable. But you can’t stay in Seth’s room until you’re actually eighteen. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” s
he mumbled, blushing.

  “I may look like an old man to you young folk, but I’m not naïve,” he said, eyeing first Seth and Stella before moving his gaze to Mason and me. “And it makes no difference to me as long as you’re being safe. But if it’s obvious you’re sleeping together, I wouldn’t put it past Gwyneth to do something drastic like filing charges against both Seth and Chaz for statutory rape.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Mason barked.

  “Yes, but also a very real crime. The age of consent in this state is eighteen, and while any judge would normally throw out such a ludicrous accusation, considering you’re all within six months of each other, the Bellamys do have some sway with certain officials in this town. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

  We discussed the logistics of Stella moving in for a while longer, then my mom and Atticus left us alone. Stella was ecstatic, laughing and crying at the same time as Seth hugged her over and over.

  She was safe. No one was going to threaten her again.

  Mason was uncharacteristically quiet, his eyes downcast as a tendon ticked in his jaw. He looked almost…angry. If he were anyone else, I would’ve left him to stew and work through whatever was bothering him on his own. But this was Mason.

  I stepped in front of him, lacing my fingers through his. I didn’t miss the fact that he wouldn’t meet my eyes. We had a lot to talk about and a lot to make up for. Tugging his arm, I pulled him from the TV room and up the stairs.

  After pulling him into my room, I shut the door and leaned back against it. Mason stood with his back to me, unmoving.

  “Mason, look at me,” I said.

  He’d been so happy to see me earlier, and now, instead of being happy we’d found a way out of his parents’ iron grip, he seemed…pissed. Had I read him wrong?

  No. No, he said he loved me, and I believed him.

  “Mason. Please,” I said when he kept his back to me.

  “I don’t know how you can stand to look at me,” he muttered without turning.

  I pushed myself off the door and walked around in front of him. He kept his eyes averted, refusing to meet my eyes, and his hands were clenched into fists at his sides.