by J Bree
“We can talk about how you have access to one of those later, Mounty.”
He turns and steps into the proverbial ring.
I don’t know who calls the ambulance but I do enjoy watching them wheel Spencer Hillsong away. Harley grabs his shit and leaves the chapel without looking at me so I guess his charitable mood has up and left him. His hands are a mess and there’s blood all over him, any teacher who comes across him would have to be on Avery’s books to not call the cops. It’s a good thing they all are.
I manage to convince the kitchen staff I’m an overworked, flailing mess and they scrape together a tub of roast pork and sides smothered in gravy for me to take to my room to eat. I don’t know why I didn’t think of trying it before and I’m thrilled when I sit on my bed and dig in. I mess around on my phone and try to tell myself I’m googling Vanth Falling news to keep tabs on my bully and because I’m bored.
I didn’t burn the shirt.
I did stuff it in the bottom of my bag to try and forget about it but old habits, and devotion, die hard so I’m back wearing it and a tiny pair of sparkly booty shorts when there’s a knock at my door.
I panic.
It’s embarrassing as fuck to think about any girl in this place seeing me wearing it after my tantrum at Blaise over it so I scramble to find something else to throw on over it quickly.
“Mounty, for fucks sake, I can hear you rummaging around there. Open the door.”
It’s Harley. Oh god, I cannot open this door wearing the shirt. I will lose any credibility I’ve managed to gain with Blaise if he tells him. “I’m- ah- naked. Give me a second.”
I find one of the new sweaters I bought from the thrift store in Haven, it’s clearly a mans sweater and it’s three times the size of me, and I throw it over my head.
When I’m sure he won’t be able to see the Vanth shirt I throw open the door to his deep frown. He eyes trail down my body and when they reach my bare legs he starts to look around my room, his scowl deepening.
“Can I help you?” I say, breathless. He curses at me under his breath and pushes past me into my room. Rude.
“Please come in.” I say sweetly and shut the door behind him before I can think better of it. He may still have it out for me academically but I’m not afraid of being around him. I snort at myself. I’ve just watched him pummel another student, to the point the kid had to be intubated before he was scrapped off the chapel floor by the EMT’s, and yet that had proved to me that I had nothing to be afraid of. Funny old world.
“Is there a guy in here?” he says as he peers into my closet. My jaw drops.
“What- why would there be a guy in here?”
“You said you were naked. It’s five o clock, you haven’t just showered, and you’re wearing someone else's clothes. Who did you let win the bet?” He’s damn near hissing at me. I look down at myself, sigh, and then rub at my face.
“I lied. I wasn’t naked, I’m wearing a shirt and shorts under this. I just- it doesn’t matter. This is my sweater, I’m not a wannabe model like the other girls here and I like being comfortable. No guy. Not interested in seeing any guys here at Hannaford naked, thanks.”
Blatant lie, I’d be interested in him. Or either of his friends really. I try not to think about the time I saw him come all over Annabelle’s face in the woods but then it’s all I’m thinking of and my face heats up. Harley squints at me like he’s trying to decide if I’m lying. I roll my eyes at him.
“This place is a literal closet. Check under my bed and see for yourself that there’s no one here.” He actually bends down and does check. My blood heats and not with desire. “What exactly gives you the right to police who I fuck, anyway?”
He smirks at me and shows me his knuckles. They’re a mess, he hasn’t cleaned them at all. From the look of him he’s just thrown different clothes on, no shower. I should feel grossed out by that but I lick my lips at the thought of the sweat that’s still on him. He still smells fantastic, totally unfair because I know for a fact that I smell putrid after that much exercise. I duck under my bed, pull out my first aid kit, and grab out some antiseptic wipes. He drops onto my bed like he owns the place and I start to clean up his wounds.
“I’ve just cleared your social calendar for you, I wouldn’t want that to be for nothing.”
I chuckle as I carefully wipe away the blood that’s already dried and he doesn’t flinch. His knuckles are covered in raised white scars, crisscrossing and gauging into his skin. It looks more extreme than what a prep school fight club would warrant. I make yet another mental note to look into him and his past. He clears his throat to get my attention.
“So, which clean up crew would you have called? Manning’s?”
I snort. “Only if I wanted to be blackmailed with it later. Amateurs call Manning.”
He smiles at me, a real one, and I have to focus to breathe. He’s magnificent this close. I survive sitting next to him all day in our classes by not looking at him but now I let myself just take him in. I tape some gauze over the parts of his hands that are still bleeding and he lets me, watching me as much as I’m watching him.
“So who then? Who would a Mounty call to get rid of a body?”
I can’t really answer him. It would give too much away. I’d call the Jackal or the Bear. I wouldn’t have to pay them a cent for their services either. I’d call in a favor or make a deal with them on the spot and then my problems would just vanish.
“That should hold if you don’t shower until tomorrow. Or just get one of your friends to do it again for you. I’m assuming you have a kit of your own?”
He nods and watches me pack everything away. I feel his eyes on my legs as I bend to shove the kit back under my bed but when I stand and face him he’s got his phone out. When he lifts it to his ear I frown down at him.
“Nothing is wrong, Floss. Can’t I call you to be social?”
I cross my arms and take a step away from him. I guess this is where I pay for making him bleed for me. Nothing ever comes for free, not here at Hannaford and certainly not back home.
“Ok, you’re right I do need something. I need you to leave Lips alone. Stop trying to get her kicked out… No, I’m not joking… I’m not telling you to be her friend, I’m saying stop fucking with her on my behalf. I’m over it. I’m done…I don’t like her, I owe her and I hate owing people shit. Just drop it… if Joey wants her dead and she’s too stubborn to leave to save her skin then that’s not our problem. You don’t owe him a cleanup, Ave’s.”
My stomach hollows out as I listen to him negotiate a ceasefire with Avery for me. He said he owes me, what did I do for him? I think back but I can’t remember anything I’ve done. Well, the necklace but I haven’t even told him I have it yet. I wince guiltily.
He hangs up and meets my eye again. I wait for him to explain, to get up and leave, to tell me what I now owe him for this. I wait for him to tell me it's all a joke and I’m still trash to him. I guess he did tell Avery he doesn’t like me but he’s not acting like that. When he just stares at me nervousness bubbles up until I speak, just to break the intensity of his gaze.
“Why do you owe me? I don’t remember helping you.”
He grumbles and stands up. He looks almost bashful, it’s charming as fuck.
“Joey set his eyes on you because of me. He heard me raging at Avery about you and it caught his interest. Whatever, you should leave Hannaford. You’re stupid if you think you can take on Joey and survive.”
I scoff at him, “Of course you do. What could a poor Mounty do against a billionaire sociopath?”
He shrugs at me and flexes his fingers. I can't stop thinking about the damn necklace until finally I sigh and walk over to where I’ve dropped my bag. I’ve been carrying it around for weeks trying to pluck up the courage to give it back to him.
“Don't ask me how I got this, and please don't start shit with me over it, just take it and forget this ever happened.” I ramble. He quirks an eyebrow at me but he r
eaches for me. I drop the little gold chain into his outstretched hand and he freezes. The look on his face breaks my heart. He's so reverent, so gentle as he cradles the little heart pendant in his big, bandaged palm. When he looks up at me his eyes are red rimmed and glassy. I feel like scum for carrying it around for so long.
“I'm sorry I didn't give it to you sooner. I don't even have a reason, I just didn't. Like I said, please just forget I ever had it.”
“Lips, this is… I've been trying to get this back for years.”
I blink away tears of my own as I turn away from him. I wish so much that we had met under different circumstances and we could be friends. The fierce, protective nature of him draws me in like nothing else. I want him but I want to be in his circle more.
I hear him moving behind me but I don’t want to look back at him. I should have slipped the necklace into him bag while he wasn’t looking or given it to Ash to pass along instead. I feel the heat of his body press up along my back as his scent envelopes me. I freeze and my heart stutters in my chest. It takes me a second to realize he’s not attacking me, he’s not trying to hurt me or get some sort of revenge, he’s just close to me. I clear my throat like I’m going to speak but I don’t know what I would say to him. He’s everything I wish I had and it pains me to have him this close and to know it’s only going to last for a second.
He leans down and brushes his lips to my cheek softly, my eyes fall shut and I struggle to stop myself leaning back into his warmth.
“Thank you.” he whispers into my ear and then he disappears, closing my door quietly behind him and taking his heat and delicious smell with him.
I feel gutted.
Chapter Twenty-Three
My whole world has shifted on its axle a little after Harley’s visit to my room.
I don’t see him for the entire spring break even though I eat every meal in the dining hall. I barely sleep because I’m too busy freaking out about how much I actually like him. Like, not just wanting to ogle him or even consider making out with him, but to actually keep him. It’s disturbing. I hate crushes so much because they really do crush you.
When class goes back after the break I make the perilous decision to trust him at his word and I go down to the dining hall for breakfast. The lure of the incredible french toast is strong enough to let me test him out. I notice the difference the second I leave the safety of my room.
There’s no whispering.
I’ve grown so accustomed to the constant gossiping that happened around me, because of me, that it’s jarring to have the other students ignore me.
Avery Beaumont really is an evil dictator.
The dining hall is teeming with students and I have to use my elbows as weapons to get a seat. I ignore the looks from the girls around me at the size of my plate, six pieces of french toast thank you very much, and dig in like it’s my last meal on death row. I’m starting my third slice when Blaise sits down across from me and actually looks at me. In the face. I wipe my chin in case there’s syrup or cream splattered all over me and I swallow roughly, trying not to lose what I’ve just eaten.
“Did you know that for the first time in my academic career here at Hannaford I am sitting on a solid C in Math. My dad called me yesterday and offered to buy me the Ferrari of my dreams if I get a B by the end of the year.”
It takes me two tries to speak to him, it’s far easier to speak when he’s not grinning at me and being charming. “So you want my help to get the Ferrari?”
He smirks and makes a slashing motion with his hand. “Fuck the Ferrari. I can buy my own if I want one. I negotiated with him and if I get a B+ he’s going to let me take three weeks away during the summer holidays to record my next album. I need a B+ Mounty, my career and my very soul need to get away from all of my parents bullshit.”
I nod sagely and sip at my drink, feigning a nonchalance I definitely don’t feel. He looks at me expectantly and when I don’t fall over myself to offer my services to him he sighs.
“What’s it going to cost me to get you to help me?”
A favor, Matteo’s voice says in my mind. What would I even ask of him, though? I put down my cutlery and push my plate away, giving my food a mournful look. I can never eat around these guys and the look on Blaise’s face has butterflies dive bombing deep in my gut.
“No cost. You need to ask for extra credit though, you don’t have enough time left to bring your grade up without it. You’ll need to come to every study session, on time, for the rest of the year and you’ll have to ask Ash very nicely if he can stop pretending he needs my help so I can focus on helping you.”
“Done.” Blaise grins at me and starts eating his breakfast. I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m debating if I should get up and leave when Harley steps into the dining hall with Avery’s arm tucked firmly into his. He sees us immediately and he frowns, his eyes darting between us both. I give him what I hope is a reassuring smile but it only makes his frown deeper. Avery rolls her eyes, grabs a tray, and shoves it into his chest. I watch, curiously, as he fills it up for them both. I’ve never seen him dote of her like this. Usually Ash is the one who carries her things but he’s nowhere to be seen.
They walk past us and Avery only pauses long enough to kiss Blaise’s cheek and murmur a good morning to him as she passes. She doesn’t bother to look my way. Once Harley has Avery all set up and their food is portioned out he stalks back over to us. Avery glares and shakes her head at him as he sidles up beside me.
As I glance up the light from the chandeliers catches on the necklace around his neck and I swallow. I don’t know why I’m shocked he’s wearing it, if it means so much to him that he’d gotten choked up then it makes sense he would want to keep it close. I can’t pull my eyes away from it until he speaks and breaks the spell.
“What are you two doing eating breakfast together? People will talk.”
Blaise leans back in his chair and looks every inch the rockstar he is. He usually hides it well, like he puts away ‘Blaise Morrison: Lead Vocalist for Vanth Falling’ when he arrives in the gates of Hannaford and becomes the spoilt rich kid everyone expects him to be. I’ve only ever seen the brash musician when he’s around his friends. I get the feeling that this is the mask he wears to survive, that he protects himself and his music from this place the way Avery protects those she loves.
“The Mounty has just offered to be my own personal tutor for the rest of the year. We’re going to be practically inseparable, doesn’t that sound fun?” my cheeks flush and I give him a look. A don’t-fuck-with-me-after-I’ve-agreed-to-help-you look. The cocky grin I get in return is something poets could write sonnets about. It’s stunning and terrible and hot and heartbreaking.
“I could’ve helped you, why didn’t you ask?” Harley grumbles. I look up at him and he looks away from me quickly, like he didn’t want me to catch him staring. He is the most confusing guy I’ve ever met.
“No, you really can’t. What’s the problem, man? Avery’s lifted the speaking ban, any other reason I should be staying away from the Mounty?” His voice is too smug and the smirk he levels at Harley makes my heart stutter. It’s almost as if…they can’t be fighting over me. They both have made their feelings towards me perfectly clear this year. Harley shrugs cooly, aiming I think to look unaffected but I can see his fists clenching. He puts his elbows on the chair next to me and leans forward like he’s going to whisper at Blaise. He’s loud enough that the students around him here every. Goddamn. Word.
“Just thought you’d be more afraid of spending that much time alone with your stalker.”
The blood drains from my head until I’m left feeling dizzy. There it is, there’s the reason I shouldn’t ever speak to Blaise without classwork in front of us. The sounds of sniggering and laughter start up around us from the students shamelessly eavesdropping. I stand up abruptly and grab my bag. Harley chuckles under his breath at me but I refuse to look at him. He was right all those months ago, I need to bury my
nerves better when it comes to him and Blaise. And Ash. Goddammit.
“Just get the extra credit work. I’ll help you during the tutoring sessions but don’t talk to me otherwise.”
I stomp out of the dining hall to the sound of Harley’s roaring laughter and Blaise swearing up a storm at him.
I decide to arrive at our study group late.
Well, I actually decide to skip the tutoring sessions altogether but then I think about my college submissions and I cave. I don’t want to have to face Blaise again so soon. His opinion of me shouldn’t matter. I’m the Wolf, for fucks sake, but I feel a hot shame wash over me whenever I think about him. He really does think I’m a sad little groupie. Not an awesome, sexy groupie. I’ve met girls like that before, I’ve been to gigs and seen girls that are so powerful with how they hold themselves up and live their truths.
My truth is I’m an inexperienced blushing idiot with responsibilities no student at Hannaford would ever understand.
I wish I hadn’t stayed quite so far away from guys back at Mounts Bay. Not that I wish I’d had sex with anyone but if I’d dated guys or, fuck, kissed anyone before coming here maybe I wouldn’t be so awkward about this. Maybe Joey’s little sweep wouldn’t have been such a big deal. I can’t think of a single girl in my last school who wouldn’t jump at the chance to fuck a Hannaford guy and maybe even get some cash for her troubles.
Ash and Blaise are already at our table when I get to the library. There’s no laughing or joking going on this time and Ash is taking stacks of paper from Blaise and flicking through them. My eyes narrow. It’s all just move evidence that he’s been lying about needing my help.
Blaise looks up at me with stark relief and I take the chair next to him without a word, unpacking the bare essentials from my bag. “Thank god, Mounty, I thought-“
“I’d rather not have this conversation. Give me everything you have from the Math class and I’ll work out a plan of attack.” I hold out my hand and focus my eyes on a speck of dust on the tabletop.
