Cruel Hearts: A Reverse Harem High School Bully Romance (Knights of Templar Academy Book 2)

by Sofia Daniel

“Max.” I rushed across the room, jumped over Elizabeth’s unconscious body, and flung my arms around his broad back.

  He stiffened. “What are you doing?”

  “Thanking you.” I placed my hand on his ass and squeezed. When he flinched, I stepped back. “Kendrick.”

  He turned around, confusion marring his handsome features. “You thought I was my brother.”

  “What happened?” I glanced down at Elizabeth, who lay face-down on the ground, resembling a starfish.

  “She was about to unscrew the handle,” he said. “I tried pulling her away, but she flung herself against the door and knocked herself out.”

  “Why did you—”

  “Come to your rescue?” His eyes hardened. “Did you think I would stand by and let Elizabeth hurt you?”

  My shoulders rose. “You’re hardly my biggest fan.”

  “That’s because you—” Kendrick tightened his lips. “How many times have you flaunted yourself in front of Orlando and my brother? You’re little more than a tease.”

  I gestured at the unconscious girl. “Are you sure you’re not getting me mixed up with someone else?”

  He jerked his head away, a muscle in his jaw flexing. “Perhaps.”

  A knot of tension unwound itself from my shoulders, and I exhaled a long breath. Knocking a girl out, even one as twistedly Machiavellian as Elizabeth, was proof that his loyalties lay with Maxwell and Orlando. Kendrick stared down at me with impatient eyes.

  My gaze darted from side to side. Was I forgetting something? He pressed his lips together and huffed out a breath.

  “Should we hide the body?” I asked.

  With an amused snort, Kendrick knelt at her side and eased a huge shard of glass out of her hand. “I don’t know what’s gotten into Elizabeth. She was so level-headed until you arrived.”

  Elizabeth twitched. Giving her the widest possible berth, I edged around the room toward the door, not knowing if she would rear up with another makeshift weapon. “I don’t remember ever starting a conversation with her or even casting her a dirty look.”

  Kendrick uncurled the fingers of her other hand and pulled out a Swiss army knife with a screwdriver attachment. “Perhaps she was envious of your relationship with Mr. Burgh.”

  I glanced at her pasty face. “Were they close?”

  “Not particularly,” he replied.

  “Then why would she be jealous?”

  He stood, his brows furrowed. “Everyone suddenly became fascinated by the headmaster’s granddaughter.”

  “That makes no sense, considering she was the one who announced my family background to the entire dining room.”

  He gave me a peculiar stare. It was part confusion and part realization, as though he was finally seeing Elizabeth the same way that I did—bonkers.

  “That’s right. She did.” He scratched the side of his head. “Then why—”

  Elizabeth pulled herself to her knees and snarled, “Et tu, Kendrick?”

  “What the bloody hell is going on?” shouted Mr. Burgh at the doorway.

  For several heartbeats, nobody spoke. The headmaster’s glower seemed to freeze us all in place.

  Until Elizabeth threw her head back and screeched, “Rape!”

  Chapter 29

  It was amazing how quickly Elizabeth’s veneer of sanity returned in the face of someone with authority. The wretched cow dusted herself off and wiped imaginary tears from the corners of her eyes.

  “I wish to register a complaint,” she said in a clear, calm, and confident voice. “Miss Hancock dragged me into this bedroom and tried to pull off my clothes. When I fought back, she threw me about the room and created this mess.”

  “How do you explain the presence of Mr. Deloraine?” asked Mr. Burgh.

  “He was an accomplice.”

  Kendrick folded his arms across his chest. “Sir, I arrived five minutes ago and found Elizabeth pounding on the bathroom door, screaming at Miss Hancock to let her in. She held a shard of broken glass in one hand and a screwdriver in the other. Miss Liddell was the aggressor.”

  Elizabeth’s mouth slackened, her bottom lip trembling. I shook my head, marveling at the girl’s audacity. Why in the holy highlands would she expect Kendrick to say nothing at her throwing him under the bus?

  Mr. Burgh squeezed his eyes shut and pinched his nose. “Miss Liddell,” he said with a weary sigh. “If I were to review the closed-circuit television camera footage, what would I find?”

  Her eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Would I find footage of Mr. Deloraine and Miss Hancock dragging you through the grounds against your will?”

  Elizabeth gaped at him, her face paling. Triumph flared across my chest, and my nostrils flared with vindication. Holding back a smirk, I folded my ams and waited for Elizabeth to crumble under the weight of her lies.

  “I require an answer,” said Mr. Burgh.

  She clutched at her stomach, her face twisting in a rictus of faux-agony. Doubling over, she moaned, “Call my mother!”

  Mr. Burgh shook his head, seeming to take that reaction for a transparent and crappily executed diversion tactic. He pointed at the hallway. “You two wait for me in the living room. I’ll have a word with Miss Liddell.”

  Less than a minute later, Kendrick and I sat at opposite ends of a sofa in front of the fireplace. Neither of us spoke, and I busied myself with watching the dancing flames. They cracked and popped in counterpoint to the ticking of the grandfather clock. When it chimed eleven, a groan slipped from my lips.

  “What do you think is happening up there?” I asked.

  “Hopefully, Mr. Burgh’s knocking sense into Elizabeth.”

  “That might be impossible with her thick head.”

  Kendrick snorted, his lips curling into a half-smile. My brows rose. I still marveled at how two identical people could have such different personalities. We might never become bosom buddies, but I considered anyone who didn’t align themselves with Elizabeth a friend.

  The doorbell rang, and light footsteps raced down the stairs. Kendrick and I shared a glance. Hopefully, this was Mrs. Campbell here to drag Elizabeth to the sanctuary. Someone needed to brick up that spoiled little princess in an impenetrable tower.

  “Mother?” Elizabeth screeched from the hallway.

  I couldn’t make out Lady Liddell’s murmured reply, but heels click-clacked in time with the grandfather clock. Moments later, the older woman swept into the room, clad in a Cruella de Vil coat with a matching hat. She removed the hat and shook out her short hair. I waited for her to take off the coat, but she didn’t even unfasten it. Was she naked under that fur or what?

  Elizabeth entered behind her mother, gulping mouthfuls of air like she was trying to psyche herself up for tears. Mr. Burgh walked in after them, looking drained and totally fed up.

  Lady Liddell stopped behind the armchair on our right and cast me a disdainful glance. “Duncan, what is the meaning of this?”

  Mr. Burgh gestured for her to sit on the armchair by the fire. “Miss Hancock and Mr. Deloraine caught Elizabeth ransacking Delilah’s room, and now Elizabeth is accusing them both of sexual assault.”

  The haughty expression on her face fell, and she lowered herself into the seat next to our sofa. She cast Kendrick a nervous glance. “Miss Hancock, I can understand, but Kendrick—”

  “Nobody touched her,” I snapped. “She cried rape so she wouldn’t get punished for trashing my room.”

  Mr. Burgh walked around the sofa and sat on the armchair on the left, while Elizabeth moved to my end of the sofa, looking like she was going to perch herself between Kendrick and me. Not wanting to be sandwiched between her and her awful mother, I scooted toward Kendrick and made space for Elizabeth to sit near the old cow.

  Lady Liddell curled her lip. “Perhaps history is repeating itself, and your granddaughter pilfered something of Elizabeth’s.” Lady Liddell turned to her deranged daughter and gave her an encouraging nod. “Isn’t that right,
darling?”

  “She’s stealing everything from me,” Elizabeth’s bottom lip wobbled. “First she took the boys, and now—”

  “Enough,” the older woman snapped.

  This wasn’t about the betting slip as I had thought. Twisting in my seat, I narrowed my eyes at Elizabeth. “What were you going to say?”

  “My daughter is clearly upset.” Lady Liddell stood and wrenched Elizabeth up by the arm. “Why don’t we return tomorrow and talk about this—”

  “No.” I shot out of my seat, raced to the door and slammed it shut.

  Lady Liddell bared her impossibly white teeth. “There’s a penalty in this country for false imprisonment.”

  “Elizabeth said she wasn’t going to be Esau,” I said. “What does that mean?”

  The older woman closed her eyes. Her sausage lips parted to release a shuddering breath. “We’re happy to pay for any damage to your property, but if you persist in harassing my daughter, there will be consequences.”

  “Delilah,” Mr. Burgh said in a warning tone.

  “Alright.” I stepped away from the door.

  Sticking her nose in the air, Lady Liddell let herself out of the living room. Elizabeth cast me a hateful glower before walking out after her mother. I followed them out, making sure they left through the front door and pulled it closed.

  I chewed my bottom lip, my mind racing through the events of the last few minutes. Lady Liddell had caved in because Elizabeth had dropped a huge clue as to why she and her mother wanted me gone. If the old cow had manufactured a fake DNA test, the reason had to be huge.

  And related to the story of Esau.

  What else did I know about him? His younger brother, Jacob, placed animal skins on his shoulders to scam a blessing from their blind father. A jolt of excitement shot through my chest, and I raced back to the living room.

  “I know the identity of my other grandfather.” The words tumbled from my mouth.

  Mr. Burgh’s eyes bulged. “Who?”

  “The archbishop.”

  He shook his head. “That’s impossible.”

  “Lady Liddell made some terrible accusations yesterday.”

  “What did she say?”

  Kendrick cleared his throat and stood. “I’m going to be late for class.”

  Mr. Burgh nodded and flicked his head toward the hallway, indicating for me to walk Kendrick out. I escorted Kendrick to the door, our hands brushing as we walked. If he hadn’t arrived today to call me out for sleeping with his brother, Elizabeth would have unscrewed the bathroom lock and—I shook off those thoughts.

  What was it with me, danger, and falling for guys who came to my rescue? I was hardly a damsel in distress. For as long as I could remember, it had been me against Billy Hancock, foster fathers, and bitches up for a challenge. Now, I had a trio of sexy guys watching my back. It was comforting but at the same time, frightening. What if I came to rely on their support and lost it?

  Kendrick opened the door, and snowflakes swirled in through the freezing wind. He stepped out onto the doorstep and turned to me with a faint smile. “I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”

  “Not as glad as I am that you stopped her.” I stepped out with him into the cold morning and closed the door.

  “What are you doing?” His gaze flickered to a point over my shoulder. I could only guess that he was fretting about Mr. Burgh leaping out from behind the door with a shotgun.

  “Thanking you for saving my ass… Kendrick.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulled him down, and placed a kiss on his lips.

  A burst of excitement sparked from where our mouths touched. It raced down to my nipples, making them tight, and it settled around my clit. I hadn’t expected to feel so aroused after a peck.

  Kendrick sniffed. “I saved your life, not your posterior.”

  I wagged my brows. “Are you angling for a better reward?”

  “Perhaps,” he said with a tiny smirk. “See you later, Lilah.”

  “Later.” I curled my fingers into a wave.

  Kendrick kind of reminded me of a white, straight version of Gideon. Seeing him from that perspective made him a hundred times more endearing. I watched him walk across the courtyard, looking indistinguishable from Maxwell apart from the rigidness of his posture. But that wasn’t surprising considering how long he had spent pursuing a girl who had no interest in boys.

  He paused at the gate and gave me a brief wave before continuing to the academy. I exhaled a happy sigh. Maxwell probably would have blown a kiss or something.

  When I stepped back through the door, Mr. Burgh stood in the entrance hall with his arms crossed over his chest.

  “I thought you had fallen out with the twins,” he said.

  “Max and I have made up,” I replied.

  He shook his head. “I’m losing track of which of those boys is courting you.”

  I pressed my lips together, suppressing a laugh. If he had seen me on the dance floor at Wank’s nu-jazz room, sandwiched between Maxwell and Orlando, he would use a completely different word. “Cup of tea?”

  “Let’s.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and steered me through the hallway and down to the kitchen.

  Steam billowed out of the thick, ceramic pot, and I poured us both a cup and added milk. The time I’d spent at Templar Academy was like an episode of Scooby Doo, where the villain wore stupid costumes, trying to scare the public away from hidden treasure. But instead of costumes, it was bullying and bogus drug busts and instead of hidden treasure, it was a dirty little secret.

  I walked across the kitchen to the huge wooden table and handed a mug to Mr. Burgh, who took a long sip. “What on earth is going on? Mrs. Campbell told me you disappeared from school yesterday, and now you’re claiming that Elizabeth Liddell is your long-lost aunt.”

  “It does sound crazy when you put it that way.” I sat next to him on the bench. “Lady Liddell showed me an old paternity test that was supposed to prove you’re my father.”

  Mr. Burgh shot to his feet, his eyes blazing. “That is preposterous! I would—”

  “It’s a lie, I know.” I placed a hand on his arm. “I tore it up, and she said there were more copies in different locations.”

  His face went slack. “What?”

  “It’s fake. Mother already told me the truth.”

  “You spoke to her on the phone?”

  I shook my head. “Billy Hancock got shot, and he wanted to make peace with me in case he died.”

  Mr. Burgh’s brows drew together. “You went to London?”

  “Two of his boys came down to fetch me.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah.” I blew out a long breath. “One of them got a bit grabby, so I fought back with the poker.”

  Mr. Burgh looked me up and down as though checking for injuries. When he seemed satisfied, he placed a hand on my shoulders and lowered himself onto the bench next to me.

  “Delilah,” his voice cracked. “I have never acted inappropriately with your mother. We may have had our differences in the past, but I never so much as raised a hand to her. Any suggestion that I did so is a malicious fabrication.”

  I nodded. Maybe he felt the need to state his denial for the record. Mother’s threat to report him as an abuser if he didn’t drop his custody pursuit for me must have still hurt after all these years. I cleared my throat. “Mother said it was Father Neapolitan.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s my biological father.” I lowered my gaze into my steaming tea. “After a school skiing trip, he trapped her somewhere and raped her again.”

  “I…” His mouth gaped open. “She never confided in me.”

  “I think Father Neapolitan is the archbishop’s son.”

  Mr. Burgh clapped his hand over his mouth. “You can’t go around making such claims.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it looks like—” He jerked his head to the side and blew out a breath. “Don’t you see?”
r />   “What?”

  “If there’s any hint of Father Neapolitan being Lord Liddell’s bastard son, Elizabeth stands to lose everything.”

  I took a sip of my tea. “But she’s the legitimate child.”

  Mr. Burgh shook his head. “That might be so, but the Liddell family has always favored a male child over a female, regardless of legitimacy.”

  “And Father Neapolitan is older, so he should inherit the estate—”

  “Do you see why you can’t repeat this?”

  “No.”

  “If what your mother is saying about the identity of your father is correct, you would be second in line to the Liddell fortune after Father Neapolitan. Even if he had made an arrangement with the family to relinquish his claim on the title in exchange for residence in the estate’s vicarage, you didn’t.”

  Now, my eyes bulged. “Bloody hell.”

  “Indeed.”

  My tongue darted out to lick my lips. “That’s why she kept rambling on about Esau. Shit.”

  “Language.”

  “Sorry.” A laugh huffed out of my chest.

  Mr. Burgh cupped my face with both hands. “How many other people did you tell?”

  “Maxwell, but he doesn’t know I suspect Father Neapolitan of being the next Lord Liddell.”

  “As soon as Kendrick confines in his brother about your suspicions of the archbishop being your grandfather...” He squeezed his eyes shut. “You must implore them not to discuss this information with anyone. There’s no telling how far Lady Liddell will stoop to secure Elizabeth’s inheritance.”

  Chapter 30

  I rushed back to the academy, my surroundings a blur. Biting-cold wind rushed through my hair, and thoughts of that disgusting Father Neapolitan whirled through my mind. What did he know about me? I’d always thought he despised me because he resented Mother for rejecting him. I tripped up the academy’s half-staircase, and a hysterical laugh bubbled up in the back of my throat.

  My arms flew out, and my palms landed on the steps, breaking my fall. I blinked away the tears blurring my vision. What kind of person raped a girl, stalked her, and then held her prisoner until she gave in to his sexual demands?