“Okay, it’s Ashton. I’m leading you to Ashton.”
“Wait, what?” Hope surges like a wave inside me, sparking life into my veins for the first time in days. “He asked you to get me?”
“Yes. Yes. Come on.” Isla looks around us nervously, and my newfound hope dims.
“You’re lying. I’m not stupid, Isla.” I’ve played the game for years. Lies slip effortlessly from my tongue; Isla, on the other hand, needs practice.
“You’re right. She is,” Grayson barks from behind me.
Whirling around, I eye Grayson and two other boys, Kurt and Andrew. “What is this?”
He smiles cruelly. “Payback.” Kurt and Andrew rush me, snatching my arms. I scream, but it’s cut off as one of their hands clamps over my mouth. “You can go now, Isla. Your loyalty will be noted.”
My gaze finds hers, silently screaming my rage. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles. “I really did like you, but you’d bowed out and well… I don’t want to be at the bottom forever.”
Struggling against their hold, I slam my heeled shoe onto Kurt’s foot, gaining freedom on my right side. Swinging at Andrew, my nails claw at his face, and he too leaps back with a howl of pain. Turning, I run, my heart pulsing through my ears as fear closes off the scream in my throat.
“Oh no you don’t.” Grayson’s arms clamp around me, his fingers digging painfully into my skin. “You know I quite like feisty women in my bed. It’s a shame, really. You’re very beautiful.”
“Why are you doing this?” I whimper as he drags me backward.
Grayson pulls me through a door and into a classroom. “For my uncle,” his whispers in my ear before pushing me to the floor.
“What’s going on?” Relief courses through me as I sit up and find Ash taking us in. We might not be friends or even speaking, but he’d never let them hurt me. They’ve not stolen enough of him to become that cruel. “Grayson, I said what’s going on?”
“The English Rose needs to be taught her place. She’s not royalty here,” Grayson replies, lounging casually against the only exit.
I climb to my feet, staring at Ash, but he won’t meet my eyes. “Ash, please,” I beg.
“Ash, please,” Sophia mimics nastily. “Give me a fucking break. The two of you are pathetic.”
“Soph?” Ash turns her roughly toward him. “Don’t do this. She gave in. You won. Just leave it.”
Grayson chuckles darkly. “Do you think we are blind, Brooklyn? Do I need to remind you what will happen to your family? We can unmake you just as quickly.”
Anger turns each of Ash’s muscles rigid. “Last time I checked, it was your father who married my mom, not you,” he spits.
“If you really believe you’re safe, go ahead, save your precious Rose.”
Sophia cackles when Ashton doesn’t move. “No? But I thought you loved her? God knows you’ve spent every available chance gazing at her. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Did you think you could have her and use me at the same time?” Sophia hisses.
“Use you?” I laugh. “It’s me who’s been used. Just let me fucking go. I don’t care about any of you anymore. Have your freaking school and your bullshit throne.”
“I’m afraid, little Rose, we can’t do that just yet,” Grayson murmurs pleasantly, stepping forward. “First you’ll pay for your family’s crimes and remember your place.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Do you really not know?” Grayson laughs.
“Know what?” I wished they’d just be done with it. If they are going to destroy me, I’d rather not be toyed with first. My heart calms, a stillness settling over me as reality sinks in. Ash isn’t going to save me; he doesn’t love me enough to risk his place, and the only way I’m leaving this room is broken on my knees.
“Didn’t you ever wonder why your family left when you were a child?”
I did, but I can’t understand why Grayson would care. For my uncle…
Realization dawns as the words leave Grayson’s lips. “It was my uncle your father screwed over. Your father’s first step on the long road to prison. He’s getting what he deserves now, but you, you still need to pay.”
“This is stupid. She was a child,” Ash snaps, shoving Grayson away.
Grayson pushes back, swinging with a punch, but misses Ash, who then flies with his own. Rushing for the door, I attempt to escape, but Kurt and Andrew are right outside and drag me back in.
“Enough!” Sophia bellows. Ash and Grayson jump apart, each heaving and disheveled. “I don’t care if she was a child. She thought she could come in here and take what was mine. She thought she could have you!” She glares at Ash.
I spin, searching for an exit, for some way out, but everywhere I look, I’m blocked. I stagger back as Sophia prowls toward me, a box of paints in her hands. I know what she’s going to do before she does it; shielding my face as the paint flies, I force myself to be quiet as the liquid hits my dress and splatters my skin.
“Sophia, stop,” Ash yells.
But there is no stopping this. I’m ruined. Destroyed. Collateral damage in a war I wasn’t aware of.
“You know, Ashton,” Sophia coos, holding out a bottle of white liquid toward him. “I was thinking only the other day how nice it is to see Josh happy. He was so heartbroken after your father died. It’d be a shame to wreck that, wouldn’t it?”
He takes the bottle, his gaze flicking between Sophia and myself.
“Over her head,” she demands, smiling as Grayson chuckles.
Backing up, I gasp in air, desperate to fill my lungs, but with each breath, I become weaker and weaker. Grayson blocks my way, holding me at arm’s length as the first tear falls free. Ash takes a slow step toward me, anguish marring his face.
“No,” I whisper. “Don’t let them do this to you. I know you. I know us, and we’re stronger than this.”
Grayson’s dark laughter chills my bones as his breath brushes my skin. His teeth bite down on my neck before he kisses along my shoulder. “What do you say, brother, shall we share her first?”
I fight, kicking with my legs, screaming my defiance, but no matter how loud I scream or how much I struggle, no one comes to rescue me.
“I’m sorry,” Ash whispers as he tips the contents over my head.
I know instantly it wasn’t paint. The texture is thicker, the way it rolls over my skin tackier. Dropping to my knees, I cry as I wipe the glue rolling down my face away from my eyes.
“I will never forgive you for this,” I growl, looking up at Ash through the tears clinging to my eyes. “Never.”
Sophia laughs as she slips her hand into his, tugging him away. “Come along, Ashton. We’ve a party to attend.”
I watch them leave, rubbing uselessly at my hair to try clear away the glue. Ash looks back one last fleeting time, and what I see staring back is a boy as broken as I am. They’ve twisted and warped him into their own personal toy, but it doesn’t make it any better. It doesn’t lessen the sting of his betrayal.
We’re both damaged pawns in a tainted kingdom. But I can’t forgive him for this. There is no coming back. Every time I think I’ve reached rock bottom, every time I’m on my knees wishing for the pain to stop, life delivers another blow. But what truly hurts, what makes this worse than all the other hits, is Ashton stood and helped make sure there was nothing left of me to rise again.
Chapter 22
My dress is ruined, the beautiful soft ruffles stiffened with the drying paint and forever stained. Lifting a hand feebly to my head, I fiddle with the pins in my hair, pulling them out one by one. A few locks fall forward, but the rest stays fixed in place, the glue matting it to my head.
I need to wash it off. The thought filters through my sluggish mind, but it’s as if my limbs don’t register the instruction. Sadness and humiliation cling to my body, weighing me down. I’m a puppet with no strings. A lifeless, broken doll that nobody wants.
“Get up, Rose,” I tell myself, dragging in a breat
h. “Get up.”
Climbing to my feet, for one awful minute, I think my legs are going to buckle from under me. A wave of dizziness passes through me, my legs numb, detached. Holding out my arms, I sway until the world rights itself and then toe-off my heels. Carrying them in one hand, I use the other to steady myself against a table as I walk for the door.
The hall’s empty when I peek out, the low hum of music and conversation coming from the direction of the gala. The last thing I want is to be seen and drag my humiliation out further, so I head away from the gala and into the darkness of the unoccupied school. Slipping silently into the girls’ bathroom, I fumble for the switch and flood the toilet with light. Frozen, I brace myself, not sure I’m ready to look at my reflection in the mirror.
“Come on, Rose. You’re stronger than this.” Rolling my shoulders, I drag air into my lungs, blowing it out in a rush before taking the two steps needed. “Jesus.”
I’m a mess. My face is smeared with paint and makeup, my eyes swollen and puffy. And my hair… I’m not sure there is a description that can properly explain the matted mess atop my head.
They will pay… The rage-filled growl that runs through my head surprises me. Maybe there is a little queen bitch left in me after all.
Moving forward, I flip on the tap and stick my head near the sink, filling my hands with soap. It’s not easy trying to get the water onto my hair, and no matter how much I scrub, the glue has dried too much, and it doesn’t all come out. Ribbons of color swirl into the sink and down the drain, water dripping from my head and over my shoulders. By the time I straighten up, there is water all over the side and the floor.
“Well, you look so much better,” I mutter to my reflection.
Voices snap my head to the door. Freezing, I strain my ears, switching off the tap. The hushed conversation draws nearer, and I take one last look at myself before dashing into a toilet cubicle behind me. The door swings open as I hop up onto the toilet seat, gathering my ruined dress into my arms.
Shit, shit, shit. The last thing I need is someone seeing me and spreading my ridicule around the school. It’s going to be bad enough facing the royals come Monday.
Breathing as quietly as possible, I listen. Their conversation is muffled and gasped between groans and the smacking of lips.
Great, I’m trapped in here while people make out.
“Sophia,” I hear quietly moaned.
My heart drops, surely Ashton and her aren’t getting it on after what they’ve just done to me. No matter how much I hate him right now, he left the classroom as broken as me. Unless it’s all an act. Unless Ashton is the greatest player of them all. The horrifying thoughts worm into my head as my blood runs cold. Even after everything he’s done, my heart rejects the thought of Ash being so cruel.
“Eww, the side’s wet,” Sophia hisses.
“The wall’s just as good,” he answers, chuckling.
Sophia gasps, giggling in return, but something isn’t right. I know Ash’s voice, and it’s not his. Risking discovery, I stand taller on the toilet and peer over the top of the stall, and what I see sends a shockwave through me.
I was expecting another boy from school, Grayson even, but not this. Not a grown man. Not Ashton’s stepfather. My mind races as fast as my heart, and I duck down, the schemer in me awakening. I’ve wanted dirt on Sophia since the moment I met her, on any of the royals who rule Albany, but never in my wildest dreams was the dirt as juicy as this.
Quietly, I unzip my small purse and pull my phone free. Then swiping it open, I click the camera, setting it to video. I can hardly breathe as I stretch up again, holding my phone over the stall to capture Sophia’s betrayal. Arthur Bishop’s trousers drop as I record. As Sophia’s head tips back with a cry, he slams her against the wall, his hands digging into her thighs, her silk dress gathered at her hips.
“Arthur,” she whispers.
Squatting down when I have enough video, my phone clutched to my chest, I focus on breathing as deeply and as silently as possible, attempting to calm my hammering heart. A wicked smile spreads over my face. I’ve got them. They are going to pay. They will regret every snide remark and cruel comment sent my way. The posters. Tonight. All of it.
But first, I’m going to torture her. I’m going to make her believe this little secret can be kept between us, and when Sophia finally begins to breathe again, when she thinks I’m really happy being her friend, I’m going to destroy her and every person who follows.
Never mind stealing her crown. I’m going to crush her kingdom and shatter the crystal pedestal she stands upon.
***
After Sophia and Arthur finally leave, I wait another fifteen minutes before sneaking from the bathroom and into the halls. The beat of music drifts toward me, the gala still in full swing.
“Rose?”
I gasp, whirling, but relax slightly when I see it’s Miss Spice and not a student.
“What happened to you?” she gasps.
I’d almost forgotten. The glee of finding Sophia and Ash’s stepfather together dulling the rage and shame over tonight’s events. I look down at myself, an absent hand touching the back of my head, and it all rushes forward, pain stealing my breath.
“Please,” I rasp. “Please go find my mum for me.”
Miss Spice hurries forward, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Who did this to you?”
I shake my head, tears filling my eyes. “Please, I just need to get out. Can you get my mum? I don’t want anyone else to see me.”
“Of course. Here, this way. I’ll let you into the teachers’ lounge.”
Guided into the darker depths of the school, Miss Spice doesn’t question me further, her arm a comfort across my back. Unlocking a door, she switches on a light and ushers me to a sofa.
“Please tell me what happened,” she murmurs, crouching before me.
Looking up, I meet her concerned eyes. “I was lured away from the party, then dragged into a classroom where paint and glue were thrown at me while my escape was blocked.”
Her gaze narrows, anger hardening her green eyes. “Who, Rose, who did that?”
I shake my head, gritting my teeth and pushing everything I’m feeling away. “It doesn’t work like that, and you know it.”
“Someone should be expelled for this, Rose. Bullying is not accepted inside these walls.”
I laugh. “That’s a lie and you know it. Sure, I could give you names, but we both know no one is going to be expelled. Worst case, a big fat donation is given to the school, and a few students have a week’s suspension, but when they come back, they’ll target me even more. It’s best they think I’m broken. That they’ve won.”
“This isn’t right,” she snaps.
I shrug. “Life very rarely is. Now would you mind please fetching my mother? I just want to go home and try to rescue my hair.”
Her gaze travels to the bird’s nest on my head. “Stay here. I’ll be as quick as I can.”
She’s true to her word. The sound of my mother’s heels grows louder as she approaches, her confused expression turning to horror as she takes me in.
“Take me home,” I instruct, standing as she enters the room.
Her hand flies to her mouth. “Oh, Rose, your hair.”
I nod. “Dress is trash too.”
Gaze traveling from my head to my toes, my mother’s face twists with rage as she turns to Miss Spice. “I want whoever did this expelled,” she hisses.
“No!” I shout.
“No?” Her head shakes, eyes clouding with confusion.
“You know that’s not how this game works, Mother.”
“This is your life, not a game,” Miss Spice, implores.
“Not within these walls it’s not,” I reply, turning my back to them. “Miss Spice, would you mind unlocking this door? I’d rather not leave through the front entrance. I’ve had enough humiliation for one night.” Even to my own ears my voice sounds vacant and devoid of all emotion. There’s a col
dness inside me spreading through my veins, filling my dejected heart.
Please, Ash… I know you… We are stronger than this… My desperate pleas echo in my mind, reminding me of the depths I sunk too. They made me beg. They made me expose my heart. But I’m not sure if I’m angrier at myself or them. I couldn’t have escaped them, but I could have taken their torment with my head held high; instead, I was on my knees groveling.
“Of course, Rose,” Miss Spice answers, walking toward the door on the far side used by the teachers to come and go. “But I really think you should listen to your mother.”
“I’ll think about it,” I lie, waving my hand in the air, beckoning my mother. “Let’s go.”
She rushes after me as I walk into the cool night. Goose bumps break out over my skin as the light breeze whips past me, chilling my wet hair and skin.
My mother’s shawl settles over my shoulder’s seconds later. “You must be freezing,” she murmurs, rubbing my arms briefly.
“It’ll get ruined,” I warn, pulling the fabric away.
“I care more about my daughter than a shawl.”
“Can you ask the car to pick us up from the back entrance?” I ask.
“Already messaged him.” She steps into pace beside me, jogging slightly to keep up with my long strides. “Rose, we can’t let the little witch get away with this.”
“Don’t worry. She’s going to pay, along with all the other royals. Just not by the school.”
We reach the road, and our car’s already waiting. I’ve never felt so relieved to get into a car before.
“Turn up the heat, please,” I ask, sliding onto the leather seats.
“Yes, miss.” Our driver nods, meeting my gaze in the rearview mirror. It’s a testament to his ability at his job when he doesn’t even flinch at the sight of me.
“Rose, I know I’ve encouraged you, but what she’s done it’s—”
“It’s paint and glue,” I finish for her. “And this wasn’t just Sophia. In fact, I think Grayson probably engineered most of it, and then Sophia added the dramatic flair.”
“I don’t care who they are. I’m going to call their parents and give them a piece of my mind,” she rages, throwing her hands in the air.
The Destruction of Rose: A High School Bully Romance (Albany Nightingale Duet Book 1) Page 15
