In the Arms of the Elite

by Stunich, C. M.

  “What?” My cheeks flush as Zayd looks me in the eyes, his green ones swimming with so much color, like jade stones flecked with lime and emerald. There’s so much variation in that single color, if I were a painter, I’d want to recreate his irises on a canvas. Yep, I’m doing it. Waxing poetic again.

  “Or have you already decided?” he sneers slightly, and I can see that mean boy bully coming through in him. “It’s Tristan, isn’t it? Fuck, I knew as soon as I heard you guys banged in the library. Jesus.” Zayd curls his fingers in his hair, and I reach out to grab his hand, pulling it away.

  “I haven’t decided. I … I know you guys are probably desperate for me to make up my mind, but give me until graduation day. If I’m not dead by midnight, then I’ll … make a choice.” It’s meant to be dark humor, but like Charlie’s attempt, it just sort of falls flat.

  “You picked me once,” Zayd whispers, and the yearning in his voice makes my heart ache. “Do it for me one more time.” He points at the Never Again tattoo on the side of his neck. “I’ll never hurt you again. You’ll be my little rock princess.” He pauses, nibbles at his lower lip. “No, you’ll be my rock goddess. We’ll travel the world together, and we’ll fuck in every country at least once.” My mouth curves into a smile, and I feel tears prick at the edges of my eyes. I’m not sure why. They’re just there, and I can’t stop them. “We have chemistry like nobody’s business. Stay friends with the other guys, I don’t care, but nobody can fuck like me and you.”

  “You have a point,” I whisper as Zayd sighs and exhales, like he’s pushing aside his emotions for the time being. We both go quiet, listening to the wind whistle between the towers. “What bet did Lizzie break?”

  “She wasn’t supposed to tell you about the deal. None of us were. But it’s … as long as we’re the only ones who know she broke it, and that I’m breaking it again now, it’ll be okay.”

  “What’s the consequence?” I ask, and Zayd picks up a handful of pennies from the fountain, sorting through them and looking at the years before he tosses them all back in, and then goes for his wallet. Of course the rich dickhead doesn’t have pennies on him, so he gives us each a quarter to throw.

  “The consequence is that the no long-range weapons clause is removed. Like, Creed climbed behind the wheel of a car and raced on a track for that. He almost flipped it and died.” Zayd looks back at me, and then squeezes his quarter, tossing it into the water with a splash. I wonder if his wish has something to do with me? “The Harpies and the Company, they can’t use guns or crossbows or anything like that on you. At all. Trust me, if they could you’d probably already be dead. Lizzie could’ve fucked us by telling you that.”

  Shit.

  So she really was mean girling me, wasn’t she?

  On another note … guns and crossbows?! What the actual fuck?

  “And Tristan?” I ask trying to stay calm here. Zayd smiles softly.

  “He wasn’t supposed to sleep with you, not until we graduated. I think Lizzie was trying to give herself a fighting chance she never had. Tristan’s been in love with you since he first laid eyes on you, the very first day of first fucking year.”

  “Bullshit,” I snort and Zayd lifts his head up to look at me, brows raised.

  “Is it? Because he told me when he saw you, that he felt like his entire life was being rearranged inside his chest. I think it’s why he hated you so much, to combat the other emotions.” I say nothing, but my throat feels tight again, and I’m fighting back those strange tears at the corners of my eyes.

  “And the consequence for him?”

  Zayd nods at my quarter.

  “Make a wish,” he tells me, so I clasp the quarter tight in my palm, and then drop it into the water. I’d tell you my wish, but if I did, it might not come true, and it’s so impossibly impossible that I don’t dare risk any chance I might have at it. “Tristan’s punishment is that he has to … sleep with Lizzie.”

  When Zayd trails off, his voice distant and tinny, I know what’s coming.

  “No.”

  “Marnye, I know this is killing him, but he has to do it. He has to. If he doesn’t follow through on the bet, then Lizzie could tell Harper she broke hers. Imagine that, Harper du Pont with a gun or a crossbow. Marnye, this is life and death.”

  “No.” I stand up, the breeze ruffling the pink dress I put on this morning. It’s Zayd’s day, according to my calendar, but I have to find Tristan.

  “The only person he’s ever slept with that he cares about is you. It’s just sex, and I’d do the same thing if I had to, to save you.”

  Lizzie pretended to be on our side, got in on the bets at the Infinity Club, and then purposely broke an agreement and threw it in my face. No. She can’t have Tristan. I’ll … I’d rather take my chances with a rifle.

  I turn and start running, Zayd right behind me. He grabs me around the waist with his inked arms and lifts me off my feet.

  “Marnye, stop. This has to be done. It has to.” I elbow him in the stomach and he grunts. Even though it’s not that hard of a hit, he releases me because I’m struggling too hard, and I know he doesn’t want to hurt me. I hit the door to Tower Three, and then slam my fist against the button for the elevator, eyes brimming with tears.

  It could be happening right now. He could be inside of her. He could …

  He’s mine.

  That thought cuts through the rest of my thoughts like an arrow, and I stand there hyperventilating while the elevator takes its sweet ass fucking time.

  “Are you okay?” Miranda asks, appearing by my side. I think she can tell by my face that I’m most definitely not.

  “No.”

  I’m panting now, and I can’t seem to force my mouth to form words. Zayd turns to Miranda to explain instead.

  “Infinity Club stuff …” He trails off as Miranda plants her hands on her hips. He sighs in frustration, but we both know how persuasive Miranda can be. “Tristan has to fuck Lizzie because of a bet.”

  “What?!” Miranda roars, and then she’s scrambling into the elevator with us as soon as the doors open. “What do you mean Tristan has to fuck Lizzie?”

  “It’s that or Marnye fucking dies,” Zayd yells, and I can tell he’s getting frustrated. “It’s just … sex.”

  “How can you say that after you’ve been with Marnye? Could you fuck another girl right now? Could you?” Miranda hits him, but Zayd just puts his hands up like a shield and lets her do it. “I knew I should’ve made her my girlfriend and kicked all the rest of you into the depths of hell. I knew it. You’re monsters, you’re all monsters.”

  “I just want to see her live through graduation,” Zayd whispers as the door opens, and I race over to Tristan’s apartment, slamming my fists on the door.

  I’m fully aware it’s been weeks since that day in the hallway, that the deed might already be done.

  But … it feels urgent somehow.

  After several minutes of pounding, the door finally opens and there he is, standing there in his full black uniform and glaring down at me with gray eyes.

  “What is it now, Working Girl? I’m busy.” I go to push past him, and he stops me by slamming his palm into the doorjamb. That’s when I know it’s bad, that he’s got something to hide. “Get out of here, Marnye.” Tristan looks up to see Zayd standing there and hisses under his breath. “You were supposed to keep her away from here today. Are you too stupid for even that simple of a task?”

  I duck low and look past Tristan, only to see Lizzie standing there in a blue bathrobe.

  No. No, I’m too late.

  I shove Tristan out of the way and storm into the apartment, moving up to Lizzie and seriously considering slapping her in her stupid surprised face. No violence, Marnye. No violence.

  “I said no bullying at my school, and what you did to me, that was an act of bullying.”

  “You deserved to know—”

  “Bullshit!” I scream, and she cringes. She really is weak, after all, Lizzie W
alton is. “Bullshit.”

  “Marnye, get out of here and go on a date with Zayd or something,” Tristan says, coming to pause beside me. I can’t look at him. I can’t. I just can’t.

  “You told me about the bet, so that’d you have leverage against Tristan. Just admit it. You can’t stand that you lost.” Lizzie looks away and closes her amber eyes. Her hair looks tousled, and she seems to be naked under the robe. Did I come too late? Is it already over?

  “Marnye, we should go,” Zayd says, but I ignore him, too.

  “Did you … already sleep together?” Miranda asks, pointing between Tristan and Lizzie. She sounds almost too upset about it. Like I get her being on my side, but there’s something more to it. “Did you guys just finish fucking?”

  “It’s for the best, Marnye,” Tristan says, but his face is so blank. I can see it even with that cruel mask of his in place. He’s shutting down.

  “Did. You. Fuck. Her?” I whisper, hating that he won’t answer me. Why won’t he fucking answer me?

  Windsor, Zack, and Creed burst in the door a moment later, and Tristan swears under his breath, turning away and running his fingers through his dark hair.

  “Bloody hell,” Wind murmurs when he sees me, and my whole body tightens up. He knew. Zayd knew. They all knew. They did a nice job hiding it from me, too.

  “Tristan, look at me,” I say, but when he does, his expression is written in anger.

  “I fucked Lizzie,” he says, voice cold.

  “You’re lying,” I say, and then louder. “You’re lying.”

  “I wanted to do it, too. You think I’d ever be happy with a charity case like you?”

  Wow.

  He’s really putting it on hard, this bullshit act. But he forgets that I saw right through him in the bathroom, and even more so when we fell asleep in each other’s arms that night.

  I’m not buying it.

  I walk up to him and put my hands on his chest.

  “You think lying to protect me will work? It won’t. I don’t want your lies as a shield against the bad things. I only want you.” I lean up on my tiptoes and kiss his mouth hard. I kiss him as possessively as any of the other boys have ever kissed me. When Tristan starts to shake and his hands come up to touch my arms of their own accord, I know I’ve caught him red-handed. I pull back slightly and look him in the eyes. “Did you fuck her?” I repeat.

  Tristan stares at me, emotions warring in his gray eyes.

  “Not yet,” he whispers finally, and I feel this huge surge of relief as I throw my arms around his neck.

  I know then an undeniable truth: I will not be able to give up Tristan Vanderbilt at the end of the year.

  I don’t know exactly what that means overall, only that I can’t not have him.

  I can’t.

  “But I have to, Marnye. I’ll do anything to keep you safe. Even stick my dick in some pathetic waste of life who can’t take a hint. I’m done with you, Lizzie. Done. I was done with you the first moment I laid eyes on Marnye.”

  “Stop,” I whisper, putting my hand over his lips—lips that belong, undeniably, to me—and turning to glance over my shoulder. Lizzie is sobbing now, sinking to the floor in her robe and then just sitting there, all alone while the rest of us look on.

  I feel sorry for her in that moment, I really, really do.

  Miranda kneels down beside her and puts a hand on one of Lizzie’s shoulders. Her face is still tight and angry, but maybe like me, she can see how weak Lizzie Walton really is on the inside. Rule Six: Know when enough is enough.

  “Why the fuck are you comforting her?” Creed demands, moving over to stand beside his sister. His blue eyes are cold and cruel and half-lidded. “She’s been against us from moment one. Fuck the bitch.”

  “Creed, that’s enough,” Miranda says. “Yes, she was wrong, but … she’s also just confused and stupid and … in love with someone she can’t ever have. That shit drives people crazy.” A split-second later, Myron Talbot comes storming in the door, his face a mask of wild fury.

  “Did you sleep with her?” he asks, looking at his best friend like he’d dismember him if the answer were yes. “Did you?!”

  “No.” Tristan’s voice is a single, soft note, and then he just collapses, sitting down on the kitchen floor. I sit beside him and throw my arms around his neck, possessive as fuck.

  “Thank god,” Myron grumbles, moving over to kneel down in front of Lizzie. “You do not hide things from me. You don’t lie.”

  “Myron, I love him.”

  “So what?” Myron hisses, and I realize that while my boys might be threaded through with cruelty, this man is literally made of it. “He’s in love with Marnye. And I’m in love with you.” He cups the side of her face, but she looks away sharply and refuses to make eye contact.

  Myron stands up and pulls Lizzie along with him, swinging her into his arms.

  “You two make a perfect couple—you can match each other’s bullshit,” Creed snaps, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Careful. I don’t like you. I don’t like your girlfriend either. The only people in this room I care about are Tristan, and this girl here.” He lifts her up, but Lizzie just buries her face against his neck. “Consider your debt fulfilled,” Myron tells Tristan, glancing his way. “An old favor from a friend.”

  “What do you want in return, Myron?” Tristan asks, sounding weary as hell. “You always want something in return.”

  Myron grins, flashing his teeth.

  “Blood,” he says, and I shiver all over. “I want blood.”

  I can’t seem to extricate myself from Tristan’s lap. I’m shaking too hard, thinking about him sleeping with Lizzie in some misguided attempt to save me.

  “You scared me so bad,” I whisper, nuzzling against him as Windsor makes us all tea, and Zayd sits in a chair with his head in his hands.

  “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner, Marnye. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “You’re all just trying to do your best to protect me,” I say, exhaling sharply. I can’t even begin to describe how relieved I am that I got here in time. And the Myron/Lizzie thing? Totally mind-blowing. But shit, I hope she falls in love with him and leaves Tristan the fuck alone. “But you guys need to start telling me shit, Infinity Club rules or no.”

  “Sometimes breaking Club rules is a life or death sort of thing,” Zack says, exhaling and running his palm over his hair. He’s watching me cling to Tristan with a dark expression, like he thinks this is it, that I’ve made my decision.

  I decide to address that, unhooking my arms from around Tristan’s neck and standing up. Miranda watches me, and then excuses herself, giving me a small peck on the cheek before she retreats out of the apartment, mouthing call me before she shuts the door.

  “In the spirit of continued honesty, I just … I want to say that I’ll make my decision on graduation day.”

  “Decision?” Creed asks, like he’s not sure he understands what I’m getting at.

  “To … pick one of you,” I whisper, my voice rough and broken. “I know I owe you guys at least that much. It’s not fair of me to keep going on like this, especially not when we’re all making decisions about colleges. I don’t want you all following me to Bornstead expecting something …”

  “Nobody here is pressuring you to make a choice,” Creed says, looking away. Even though he says he hates tea, he takes the cup when Windsor presents it. “Marnye, you do you. We’re all here for you. We could give a shit less what happens with each other.”

  I smile and shake my head.

  I don’t know if they’ve realized it yet, and I’d really hate to break the news, but … they’re friends, the five of them. They are, it’s true. Shocking, I know. So scandalous.

  Turning back to look at Tristan, I see him staring out the window, his expression far away and fragile, like it could shatter at any moment. He’s used to throwing his body around to get what he wants. I think it’s just hit him that he ca
n’t do that anymore, that he shouldn’t have been doing it all along.

  Speaking of … I’m nailing Kiara Xiao tomorrow.

  I’m tired of waiting.

  Harper … I have special plans for her. But the rest of Harper and Co., it’s time for them to go.

  “I love you guys,” I whisper, the words soft and hushed in the tense darkness of the apartment. It’s the first time I’ve said it, and maybe it’s a copout to say it to them all at once, but … they’re like family now.

  “We love you, too,” Creed says, turning back to look at me and sighing. “And … we’re sorry.”

  I smile. I like the use of the word we—more than I can bear to admit.

  “Apology accepted. Just … stop making decisions without talking to me first. I’m not afraid of the Infinity Club.” I put my hand over my tattoo, and exhale. “We only have a few months left. Let’s make the best of them, okay?” I sit back down on the couch and close my eyes.

  These guys all think I need to be protected … but I think they need my protection, too.

  “I’m sorry, Charity,” Zayd whispers again, but really, he’s got the least to apologize for. If he hadn’t told me … and I’d walked in on Tristan and Lizzie? I might’ve killed her.

  “No more apologizing. Can we please just put a rom-com on and hang out together—without Lizzie?”

  “No more Lizzie,” Tristan agrees, standing up and heading into his room. He comes back with a bundle of clothing, passing out sweats and loose shirts and tanks to the other guys. “Here. Borrow some pajamas, and get comfortable. I have a feeling our girlfriend isn’t letting any of us out that door tonight.”

  “Damn straight,” I say, a smile working its way across my lips.

  I sleep better that night than I have all year.

  I’m done playing games.

  The next morning, I take Miranda and Andrew with me and grab some of my new first year friends from The Mess. It doesn’t take much to encourage them to take up residence in Harper’s gazebo, that little niche she’s selected for herself and her cronies.