Blackthorn Elite: The Entire Series

by Beck, J. L.

  Sweet creature. I almost snort. This girl, well, clearly a woman now, given the curves she’s hiding and the tight jeans showing off her full ass broke me.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just had a hard time finding the room,” she whispers, her sing-song voice filling the room. She bats her long eyelashes at him innocently and all he does is clear his throat and motion for her to sit down.

  Most of the assholes in this room are probably thinking she is acting, playing the innocent act, the woman who can do no wrong, but I know better. Everything about her is sweet and gentle. She wouldn’t hurt a fly. She never saw anything as a nuisance, not even me.

  Jules has always been the sweetest person I know…until the day she ripped my heart out of my chest and left, taking the shredded pieces with her. Her sweetness turned sour the day she moved away, and all because she wanted to please her father. She didn't even fight. Didn't fight for us, for our friendship, for the chance of love.

  She just left...left when I needed her more than anything, more than air, more than life. Losing her was like losing a piece of my soul, it killed me, but I survived. I built myself back up and became the man I am today.

  “Excuse me,” she whispers, walking down the middle aisle getting closer and closer to me. Every step she takes angers me. I don’t want her near me, let alone to be in the same room as me. She spots an open seat in the row in front of me, and slides into it, but not before lifting her eyes to survey the room.

  The professor has already started talking again, and most of the room is focused on the board, scribbling down every little word that’s written, so no one notices her stares. She tucks a curled lock of blonde hair behind her ear and then as if the entire fucking universe wanted to damn us, her eyes lock on mine.

  Those big blue eyes, once so full of life, of wonder, of love for me, for us. In that instant, the entire fucking world could blow up around us and we wouldn’t notice. She seems shocked to see me, about as shocked as I am to see her, and then a tiny smile pulls at her plump lips.

  “Remington…” the girl beside me whines, rubbing her manicured hand against my thigh, and suddenly my cock has deflated. I feel sick to my stomach, my insides twisting, all because of Jules.

  She gives me a tiny little wave and then settles into her seat.

  What the fuck? What the hell just happened? Did she seriously just wave at me? Red hot anger zings through me. Who the fuck does she think she is? Waving at me, acting like she doesn’t know what the hell she did. The hour seems to drone on, and with every ticking minute, my anger seems to grow. I feel like a boiling pot of water. One single second away from boiling over.

  “Do you still want to hang out after class?”

  “No,” I grit out.

  “Why? Don’t tell me it’s because of that girl that just waved at you. Who is she anyway?” Using my hand, I brush hers off my thigh and grip my pen with enough strength to snap the damn thing. Maybe I should tell her, yes, but the blonde with a sweet smile and soft heart just ruined my fucking day, year, hell my life.

  “She’s no one. I don’t even fucking know her, so stop acting jealous,” I whisper when all I want to do is yell. I wonder if Jules can hear me, I sure fucking hope so. I don’t want her to try and reach out to me, try and talk to me. I don’t want her to have a damn thing to do with me.

  “Okay, so why then?” She pouts, and I twist away from her.

  This classroom is too small, filled with too many people, and I feel like I’m suffocating. Her mere presence makes it feel like my heart is being ripped out of my chest all over again.

  “I have to go, Remington.”

  I shake my head, not comprehending what she’s saying.

  “What the fuck, Jules? Why?” I know I shouldn’t swear at her, but I don’t understand. I already lost my mom. If I lose Jules too, I’ll risk falling off the deep end.

  She worries her bottom lip between her teeth looking at me as if she doesn’t want to say what she’s going to next. “You knew my parents were getting a divorce, and my mom, she’s too busy with work for me to live with her. You know she travels all the time and really, I want to move with my dad.”

  I blink. “Move? Like, leave?” My lungs deflate, my heart cracks down the middle.

  “Yes.” She frowns. “I just rather go with my dad, Remington. You know I don’t get along with my mom all that well and my brother is going to live with my dad too.”

  I understand what she is saying, but all I can feel is pain, anger, heartache.

  “You’re my best friend, Jules. I need you.” My voice cracks, my insides twisting painfully.

  “I know.” Tears glisten in her big blue eyes. “We have the phone. I can call you, check up on you. I can come and visit.”

  I tighten my hand into a fist. I’m angry, at Jules, at her parents, at my own mother for choosing fucking liquor over her children.

  “You know what, don’t worry about me. Go and live with your daddy.” My words slice through her, and I can tell they hurt. She reaches for me, her hand landing on my bicep, but I shrugged it off. If she cared about me as much as she said she did, she would find a way to make this work.

  “Don’t act like that. It’s not like I want to hurt you.” I can hear her talking, but all I can feel is the betrayal. If she’s leaving, if she’s not even going to be here anymore, then I should just end this, rip out my own damn heart instead of letting her do it.

  “Go away, Jules. Go pack your shit and get out of my face. I don’t ever want to see you again.” I barely get the words out. God, does it hurt to say them, it hurts so damn bad.

  “What? You don’t mean that.” She makes another grab for me, but I take a step backward, putting space between us.

  This is it. The end.

  “I do. I never cared about you, about our friendship. You mean nothing. Just like my mother. Nothing.” I punctuate the words, staring down at her. Her pink lips tremble, lips I’ve thought of kissing my entire life, her hands shaking, and when the tears start to fall, I turn away.

  “You…you can’t…” she starts, but I whirl back around, stepping into her space. I’ve never hurt her, never wanted her to be scared of me, damn if that is the last thing I ever wanted but seeing her right now with tears swimming in her eyes, looking like she’s the one that has a right to be heartbroken angers me. There are only two women I’ve ever loved in my life, and I’ve already lost one, now I’m losing her too.

  Leaving me with no one…

  “I do not care about you. Leave. Now. You’ve ruined us. Our friendship.”

  “I’m sorry, but can’t change this, Remmy.”

  “Neither can I. Now get out of my face. I never want to see you again.”

  Her mouth opens as if she’s going to say something, but I shake my head, giving her a warning look. I don’t want to hear another word come out of her mouth. I don’t want to see her pink lips, big blue eyes, or soft blonde curls ever again.

  “Remington,” someone calls my name, pulling me from the memory, and I blink letting the image of Jules’ tear-stained face disappear from my mind. I realize then that people are starting to shuffle out of the classroom. Fuck. My eyes move to the seat in front of me, the one that Jules was in before I spaced out. It’s empty now, thank fuck. Now all I have to do is get rid of this chick and I can get out of here.

  “Look, Lacey…” I start, pushing from the table.

  “It’s Layla, actually,” she sneers, displeasure appearing in her eyes.

  “Uhh, yeah sorry, anyway…I’ve got shit to do. I’ll text you later?” I shove all my shit into my backpack and start down the stairs, refusing to let her even talk. As soon as I step outside the classroom, I see her.

  Jules. My heart. My fucking best friend.

  Her eyes connect with mine, a smile pulls at her pink lips, and she takes a step forward. I tighten my hold on my backpack, every muscle inside my body tightening.

  What the fuck?

  What the act
ual fuck does she think she’s doing?

  2

  Jules

  My heart beats so furiously inside my chest I think it’s going to break free from my body and run down the hallway. It’s been three years…three long years since the day he took my heart and ran it through the proverbial blender. I take a step forward, my feet moving all on their own.

  He’s so different now, bigger, taller, so much taller that I have to look up at him. My eyes roam over his body, it’s toned and muscled, just like an athlete’s. My mouth waters at the sight.

  The ripped blue jeans and a white t-shirt he’s wearing do nothing to hide his chiseled body. His dark russet brown hair is still as unruly as ever, going in every which way. The only thing that seems to not have changed is his dark green eyes that are currently piercing mine, a furious fire flickering in their depths. He holds his head high, an arrogance oozing from within.

  There’s a scowl on his face, and instead of looking happy to see me, he looks angry, impossibly angry. He still can’t be angry over me moving away, can he be? No, there is no way. The Remington I knew never held a grudge.

  Still, I remember the things he said that night the last time I had seen him. Even then, I never believed that he meant the words he said. How could he? We had been friends since grade school, you couldn’t just forget about someone...you couldn’t just start hating them for something that wasn’t really their fault.

  My body reacts to his presence just as it always did when we were kids and I find myself taking a step forward, and then another until I’m in front of him wrapping my slim arms around his middle.

  “Remmy,” I sigh, feeling a little too happy to see him. For a split second, everything is right in the world again. My father isn’t dead. My mother is happy. Remington and I are friends again. I lean against him, closing my eyes, and letting his warmth seep into my bones, into every pore on my body.

  He still smells the same, like soap and mint. His body, though harder, still feels the same too, and I smile against his chest. I can’t believe he is really here. I didn’t expect to see him, not today, and maybe not ever again.

  Then the moment passes, and I’m dragged back to reality when someone pulls me off of him. My eyes fly open and I realize that no one has pulled me off of him, but instead that he is pushing me away. My mouth opens and I’m about to ask him what’s wrong when I see the anger reflecting in his eyes.

  His fingers wrap around my upper arm, his grip hard as steel as he starts down the hall while dragging me behind him. I can barely keep up with his fast pace, his height making his steps bigger than mine. Apparently, I’m not the only one confused because everyone we pass looks just as shocked and flabbergasted about what’s happening as I am.

  We round the corner and he opens the first door we pass, pushing me inside of the room. I stumble over my feet and grip onto a table to balance myself when he releases me with a shove. My heart is in my throat, and my lungs burn, refusing to fill with air. I look around the empty classroom, wondering what the hell is going on when he opens his mouth and starts yelling at me.

  “What the hell do you think you are doing? You can’t just waltz in here pretending you know me,” he seethes, his words feel like a dull knife slicing through my chest.

  Pretending to know him? I don’t understand what he means, nor do I understand why he is so angry, so hateful. We used to be best friends, certainly, he remembers that, right? Was there some accident while I was gone? Did he get hurt and hit his head? Does he not remember who I am?

  “Don’t fucking talk to me, don’t wave at me, don’t even breathe in my direction and definitely don’t call me Remmy! My name’s Remington. No one calls me Remmy anymore, especially not you,” he barks, exhaling a ragged breath, his gaze darkening.

  “Just stay the fuck out of my way, and away from me. I want nothing to do with you.”

  His dig about me not being his friend snaps me back to reality, and suddenly I’m angry too, more than angry. “You can’t possibly still be mad about something that happened three years ago,” I huff, bitter laughter on the tip of my tongue.

  He takes a step forward, his body looming over me, his eyes are dark, so dark they almost appear black. I’ve never been afraid of him, never in my entire life, but right now, there is something so unnerving, so intimidating about him that I almost want to make a run for the door.

  “Oh, believe me…I’m not angry. I never even cared about you. I was glad you moved away, that I was finally rid of your whiny ass. I only ever hung out with you because of Jackson,” he sneers, grinning down at me and I don’t think he even knows how badly his words hurt me, he couldn’t, he doesn’t know what happened to my brother.

  The reminder of my brother is more than I can handle at this moment, the wounds of his loss still fresh, still raw. I can’t do this with him, not without having a mental break down. I shove past him and pull the door open, thanking God he doesn’t try and grab me.

  I can barely see where I’m going as I speed walk down the hall, running into several people on my way out. I have to get outside…I need some fresh air. I feel like I’m suffocating, my lungs deprived of air, no matter how many times I inhale and exhale.

  Once outside, I force air into my lungs, breathing in and out a couple of times to stop the panic attack that was on the fringe of coming.

  Hugging him was a bad idea, talking to him probably even worse of an idea. I was wrong to think that he wouldn’t hold a grudge from that day. I was hurt, torn up over losing him, over the things he said, but I never would’ve treated him the way he just treated me.

  Pressing a hand to my chest, I push away the thoughts of my brother and father. Losing them was hard, and the only reason I’m here now. Never in my wildest dreams would I have suspected Remington would be here too. I thought he’d get as far away from his family as he could, and yet he stayed right under their noses.

  Pulling my phone from my pocket, I check the time. Shit! My little conversation with Remington put me behind and now I’m going to be late for yet another class. I shove my phone back into my skinny jeans and start running across campus. My next class isn’t nearly as far away and by the grace of God, I somehow make it to the classroom only a smidge late. The teacher is already talking when I walk in and of course, just like in the last class, all the other students are quietly sitting in their chairs.

  All eyes are on me as I try to sneak into the room and find a seat. My cheeks heat at all the eyes scanning over my body…It’s the middle of the semester, so anyone who is new is going to draw attention, at least that’s what I tell myself so I don’t spend the entire day feeling self-conscious.

  I sit down in the first free seat I find, trying to gather my thoughts enough to at least listen to what the professor is saying. I pull out a pen, and notebook, and ready myself to learn.

  “Tough day, huh?” someone whispers beside me. Turning my head, I lock eyes with the guy next to me. Do I really look that exhausted? I eye him curiously. He’s attractive in that all-American boy way, definitely nothing like Remington, that’s for sure. I push that thought away. I shouldn’t be comparing anyone to that asshole.

  “Yeah, you could say that,” I answer, giving him a small smile before turning my gaze back to the front of the room where the professor starts to draw a diagram on the board.

  “I’m assuming you’re new here since I’m sure I would remember seeing such a pretty face in this class.”

  “Thank you, and yes, I am new. Is it that obvious?” I wipe a strand of hair from my forehead and watch as the guy scans my face.

  “Not really, but like I said, I’m sure I would have noticed someone as attractive as you walking into class.”

  I give him another little smile, not wanting to be rude, even though I don’t care for his compliments an awful lot, especially not after the day I’ve had so far. I open my book and try to concentrate on the material in front of me, but I just keep replaying all the horrible things Remington said to me.
It’s like my mind wants to torture me, making me relive that moment over and over again.

  I thought maybe, just maybe he would be happy to see me, whenever we saw each other again but I thought wrong. Still, even if he didn’t want to see me, I didn’t expect him to treat me so shitty. I’m so engrossed in thinking about Remmy that I almost don't notice the guy beside me staring. Why is he staring at me? Is there something on my face?

  Tapping my pen on my notepad impatiently, I wait for the class to be let out. I try to ignore the feeling of his eyes on me and focus on the board for a few more minutes. The professor says something about an assignment he’ll be sending to our emails, and then everyone starts moving, shuffling out of the classroom. I blink, slowly realizing I just daydreamed through an entire class.

  “It’s Cole, by the way,” the guy who has been staring at me for at least the last ten minutes finally says. He holds out his hand right as I stand and like the people pleaser I am, I take it, shaking it. I know it’s a strange thing to do, but I’m old-school like that. He oozes confidence that’s almost contagious.

  “Jules,” I tell him as he holds on to my hand a moment longer than necessary, bringing it to his lips as if he’s some Romeo. He plants a soft kiss to the very top of it, and I shiver a moment before he releases me.

  “Jules. Mmmm, that's a beautiful name.” He smiles, showing me his perfectly straight, white teeth. “Would you like to come to a party tonight, Jules?”

  I clutch my notebook to my chest and consider his question.

  Would I like to go to a party? It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea for me to go, to get out and socialize but after the day I’ve had, I think I’ll pass.

  “Oh, no, thank you. I just moved here. I haven't even unpacked yet and I need to catch up on the classes I’ve missed. Homework doesn’t do itself.” A bubble of laughter slips past my lips and I realize just how dumb I sound. This day has gone to shit, and truthfully, I just need to go back to my room, lay down and read a book. There’s nothing that a good book can’t cure.