Shaking my head, I laugh. This Grayson I can handle. “Not happening, Gray.”
“I’ll wear you down eventually.” There’s a knock at the door. “Yes?”
“Mr. Bishop requests your presence, Grayson,” murmurs an older lady through the door.
“We’ll be down in a moment, Heather, thank you.” He rolls his eyes. “Looks like we have to return.”
“Do I have too?”
“He’ll not be happy.”
“Isn’t that the point?” I raise my brow. “Aren’t I here to piss him off?”
“True. I’ll not hear the end of it, though. You know it really annoys me how saintly he acts when he’s as corrupt as they come.” Grayson stands. “One day someone will find dirt which sticks.”
Unease rolls through me. Yeah, one day soon.
“I can grab a cab home,” I offer.
“For some unknown reason, I find your company quite enjoyable.” He laughs awkwardly. “Who’d have known?”
“Thanks.” I roll my eyes. “I’m flattered.”
We sneak downstairs, and it feels so childish and silly. If someone had told me at the beginning of this I’d be sneaking around with Grayson Bishop, I’d have thought they were mental, and yet here I am, trying to contain my laugh at his over-theatric spy attempts for the front door. It’s unnerving really. I’m not sure where I stand in this situation. I have a secret plan, which will tear Grayson’s family apart and potentially destroy his father. And every time I glimpse the person beneath the mask, the person beyond his dark prince persona, a sliver of guilt worms its way into my mind.
“Grayson.”
We both freeze as Arthur Bishop’s voice fills the entrance hall of the penthouse apartment. We share a glance before Grayson straightens, the amusement leaving his face as he turns to face his father.
“Rose is feeling under the weather, Father. I’m taking her home,” he lies smoothly.
Facing Arthur too, I give what I hope is a “poor me” smile. “The salmon didn’t agree with me, I’m afraid.”
“How unfortunate,” Arthur responds, sounding not the slightest bit sincere. “Grayson, a moment, please.”
Staying near the elevator, I watch their conversation. I can’t hear their words, but as Arthur continues, whatever he says seems to drain the life from Grayson. He wilts before my eyes, then hardens as if glass, creating a barrier between him and the world so he can’t be hurt. The more time I spend with Grayson, I’ve realized that while he’s deadly beautiful on the outside—alluring, charming, a dance with sin—on the inside, he’s dead. No feelings, no emotion, nothing, and I think his father has done it too him. It solidifies my decision to reveal the incriminating video at Friday’s parents’ evening. Arthur Bishop thinks he’s above anyone, even his own son, and after I’m through with him, everyone will see him for the villain he is. And he’ll be in no position to make his son feel inferior when it’s clear Grayson has the potential to be so much more.
Chapter 27
“Are you sure you’re all right?” I ask Grayson for the second time. We’re at my apartment, sitting on my bed, a movie about to start.
“Will you stop asking me that? You’re making me feel like a girl, and this whole scenario”—he waves his arms, indicating the bed and the TV—“is emasculating enough.”
I giggle. “We forgot snacks. I’ll be right back.” Dashing off my bed, I hurry from my room and raid the cupboards, delighted to find popcorn, candy, and chocolate.
Grayson groans when I return, goodies in hand. “I think if you’d take all your clothes off, I’d feel less like you’re castrating me.”
“Shut it, Gray. Here, have some chocolate. It will make you feel better.”
Twenty minutes into the movie and half a bowl of popcorn later, Grayson turns his head, studying me. I match his movement, smiling because it feels so weird to be this intimate with him.
“What am I doing here?” he murmurs.
“I’ve been wondering myself, but no matter which angle I look at this from, I can’t see what you’d hope to get on me by doing this,” I explain, shrugging.
“Do you think I’m here to find some dirt on you?” He says the words almost as if it hurts him, as if the truth of his role is something he doesn’t like.
“It’s what you do, isn’t it? Play the games Sophia and Ashton don’t have the stomach for.” I stick a square of chocolate in my mouth as I watch him contemplate my words.
“They didn’t send me,” he responds. “But I’d be lying if I didn’t say I started this with the intention of gaining your trust and finding out what you have on Sophia. But somewhere along the way, I forgot about my intentions and just began to have fun.”
I laugh. “You should see your face. You look so stunned.”
“It’s your fault, you know,” Grayson adds, narrowing his gaze.
Picking up some popcorn, I throw it at him. “How?”
“Because you won’t have sex with me. You’re the first one to turn me down.”
Bursting out into a fit of laughter, I flop onto my side, clutching my tummy. Grayson throws popcorn of his own.
“It’s not funny, Rose,” Grayson continues.
“The great Grayson Bishop, broken because he can’t get into a girl’s pants,” I say between fits of giggles. Heaving in breaths, I try to gain control of myself. “I can’t believe no one has ever said no to you.”
“I’m a rite of passage.”
My amusement threatens to burst free again. “Oh, Gray, you really do love yourself, don’t you?”
He pokes me in the side. “Shut it, Devenport. You’re just being mean now.”
“Okay, okay.” I suck in a breath. “I’m stopping, and what happened to Keeley?”
He shrugs. “I don’t need to hurt you anymore, but tell anyone about this movie night and I’ll kill you,” he mutters as I sit up again.
“Your secret is safe with me,” I reply, nudging his shoulder. “Besides, no one would believe me if I told them anyway.”
The sound of the front door opening and shutting draws our attention.
“Is your mom going to flip?” Grayson whispers as he shuffles to create more room between us.
“Nah, we’re only watching a movie.” She’ll save the lecture for when you’re gone.
My door opens seconds later. “Rose, I— Oh, you have company.”
“Good evening, Mrs. Devenport,” Grayson purrs, his charm back in place.
“Please, that’s my mother’s name. Call me Violet. It’s Grayson, right? Arthur’s son?”
I’ve got to hand it to my mother, she’s nothing but cool under pressure. You’d never know she was currently freaking out below the surface. I can imagine the many questions circling inside her head.
Why is Arthur’s son here? What have I planned? What am I thinking? Have I lost my mind? Why am I being so reckless?
She’ll never believe the simple truth of the matter; I quite like Grayson Bishop’s company. Yes, he’s a pig and drops sexual comments every hour and spends most of his time plotting takedowns or sleeping his way through Albany Nightingale, but at least I know where I stand with him. At least all of his sins are right on display for me to see and predict. And at this moment in time, having a person like him around is rather refreshing.
“Of course, I hope it’s okay I’m here, Violet. We’ve not long been back from dinner with my family.”
“You had dinner at the Bishops?” my mother responds, her eyes widening just a fraction.
“Yup.” I smile. “And now we’re watching a movie. Did you need anything?”
“Well, I was actually in the mood for pizza. But if you’v—”
“Pizza would be great,” I interrupt, taking note my mother’s diet has gone from salads to takeout lately. “Gray?”
“Sure, why not. Thank you,” he replies, managing to smile politely.
“Any preference?” she asks.
“My usual,” I respond.
“I
’m easy,” Grayson answers.
“In more ways than one,” I whisper, laughing as Grayson elbows me.
My mother eyes us curiously. “Right, well, I’ll leave you to your movie.” She leaves, but the door remains ajar a fraction on her way out.
“That’s so you can’t have your wicked way with me,” I explain to Grayson, pointing at the gap.
He sighs. “If only you’d let me.”
It’s late when he leaves, and there’s an odd feeling sitting on my chest when he does. We ate pizza with my mother, the conversation flowing between school and my mother’s business. It was such a surreal evening, I’m not sure if I’ve imagined it. The strangest part was when Grayson hugged me goodnight, staring into my eyes for a moment too long, looking as confused as me, it’s almost as if we’ve become friends, as if whatever is growing between us could blossom into something stronger than we can imagine. But as much as I can feel the possibility, I can’t allow it to take hold.
I’ve a plan to enact and a kingdom to topple.
***
Monday comes and goes as tiring as ever. Grayson and I fall back into a more normal relationship and most of my day is spent pretending to the commoners Sophia, Ashton, Grayson, and I are a united front. People aren’t stupid though. Sophia made it pretty clear what her opinion of me was when I first arrived at Albany Nightingale, and they know there is only one reason she’d let it go. And if one person can find dirt on their queen, then maybe she isn’t all that powerful after all. It’s a situation that can’t go on for much longer, but I’m enjoying watching Sophia desperately trying to cling to her power while she can. Because come Friday evening, everyone in this school is going to see a whole new side to her, and no matter how hard she holds on, there is only one way she can go, and it’s down.
If I didn’t hate her so much, I’d maybe feel sorry for Sophia. After all, I know what it’s like to hold the throne one day and be out on your arse the next. I’ve experienced my friends turning their backs like the years together meant nothing. I’ve fallen to the lowest of lows, but I refuse to stay down there anymore, and if it means trading places with someone, then so be it.
When I first started at Albany Nightingale, my favorite class was art, and it was more than the subject I loved. Art class was the one time Ashton and I could be the people we wanted to be; it was our time outside the politics of the school hierarchy. But since the mural project, it’s become my most dreaded subject of the week.
Every time I enter the supply cupboard, I’m haunted by the ghosts of his touch or plagued with the memories of how he’d look at me when no one else was around. Art is my own personal hell, and if I ever knew Ash at all, I think it’s his too.
I hope it torments him. I hope he remembers my touch as I do his, and I hope it causes him as much regret and pain. I want him to suffer for what he did to me. For making me feel used and worthless. For making me his secret affair and erasing all the happy memories from our childhood.
“Rose?”
My heart jumps into my throat. I’ve lingered too long when collecting the things I need, and now it’s just him and me inside this small space, crowded with echoes of our time together.
Taking the charcoal and paper, I hold them to my chest like a barrier before turning to face him. My chest contracts painfully when I take him in. There’s a sorrow in his gaze that was never there before, and I haven’t wanted to acknowledge it. To do what I’m to do, I can’t think about the fact Ash might be hurting too. He needs to be the villain. They all need to be the villains.
I can’t talk. There are no words left in me for him, only emotions, and those I will keep safely locked away.
“Rose, please, I need to talk to you. What I said on Sunday, it all came out wrong. Of course I don’t think you’re a whore. I’d never think that of you. I’m just worried about you. And this relationship you’ve got with Grayson… it will end in tears. Your tears, Rose, you don’t know what he’s like, the way he treats women. Please, I’m only trying to protect you.” His words rush out without him pausing for breath as if they’ve been tumbling around in his head since Sunday, waiting for a chance to escape.
Feelings burst free from deep inside me, swirling around my blood, causing my eyes to sting. You will not cry. You’ve shed enough tears over this boy.
Sadness, longing, regret, rage… they all collide together, but it’s the rage I cling too. Anger is such a powerful emotion; it can build you up, filling you with fire when you might otherwise crumble. It’s the type of emotion that can protect you from the world, building an impenetrable wall that nothing else can get through.
“I don’t need or want your protection, Ashton. Grayson hasn’t hurt me like you! Sure, he was cruel and helped humiliate me at the gala, but it was your actions that destroyed me. You made your choice. You had your fun and when you didn’t come after me that day and then helped at the gala...” I shake my head. “You demolished whatever was between us and lost the right to comment on my life, so please, stop pretending you care about me and leave me alone.”
“I do care about you. That’s never changed, please, Rose.” He steps forward and I step back. His eyes cloud with sorrow.
“I thought you were going to save me,” I whisper hoarsely, hurt pushing through. “And instead, you hurt me more than Sophia or Grayson ever could. I don’t care what they have on you. You should have stopped it. My Ash would have stopped it.”
Shouldering past him, I make my way to my easel, placing the paper on the stand and opening the charcoals. We’re supposed to be drawing portraits, and when the charcoal hits the paper, I’ve no idea who I’m drawing. Everything inside me takes over. My feelings pour through my fingers onto the paper, and when I’m finished and the class ends, I stand back, staring at what I’ve done while a tear falls from my eye.
It’s not a portrait. It’s a memory. One I can never remember without pain again. I’m on the grass, laughing, younger in more ways than age, and above me hovers the shadowy outline of the boy who gave me such joy. Only the holders of the memory would know who the boy is, and when I glance across, I find Ashton gazing at my picture with the same agony in his eyes.
“I’m sorry I destroyed that,” he whispers, turning away and rushing from the room.
So am I.
Chapter 28
“I’m having a party after parents’ evening if you’d like to come?”
Staring at Sophia, I watch her lips, wondering if I’ve just hallucinated them moving. “Say that again.”
She sighs, irritated. “Enough already. I’m trying to extend an olive branch,” she snaps.
I’ve been to most of the parties and social events since revealing the video to Sophia, but not all. Not the parties she holds in her own castle.
“Why?” I ask, genuinely confused. I’m only here because I have dirt on her. We’re not friends, and I can never picture us being so.
She looks around us before deciding we’re alone enough to talk freely. “People know there is something going on, and if I don’t pull you fully into the fold, I’m going to lose control. Unless it was your plan all along?” She narrows her gaze.
“So you want to be friends?” I ask hesitantly.
“Try at least, yes. Grayson seems to have taken a liking to you, so why can’t I?”
Because I’m going to splash your dirty deeds on the big screen for all to see. I laugh evilly inside. It doesn’t matter how much time I spend with Sophia, I haven’t warmed to her one bit. Even if she hadn’t done what she had, I wouldn’t be her friend. There’s just too much about the girl I dislike.
“Sure, Sophia, I’d love to come. Thank you for the invitation.”
“Great. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to make sure the final decorations are in place for tonight’s event.”
“Catch you later.” I watch her saunter away before turning to complete my own preparations.
There’s a couple of hours before tonight’s event. Parents will meet with teacher
s, learn how their daughter or son has begun the school year before they’ll convene in the hall for drinks and nibbles and the traditional school achievements video, which is played every year, displaying last year’s highlights. Of course, this year, it will be Sophia and Arthur’s highlights played for all to see. I can’t decide if I’m terrified or bursting with excitement. Either way, it feels as if there are a thousand tiny wings fluttering around in my stomach.
“Alexander, just the man I was looking for,” I purr, taking a seat next to him and sliding up close.
“Rose. I need to see the money before I agree to this. It could get me expelled.”
“Believe me, who swapped the videos will be the least of their worries,” I reply, grinning. Slipping my hand into my purse, I pull out the envelope containing the three grand my mother gave me this morning. She wasn’t happy about doing so and said it was coming out of my college fund, but honestly, I couldn’t care less. I’d have paid five K to get the video up on display. “Payment, as requested.”
“Jeez, I can’t believe you got this.”
I slide my hand up his leg, dig my nails in. “Just remember,” I hiss through clenched teeth, meeting his eyes, “anyone finds out it was me, or you get impatient and want an early peek, I’ll make sure you’ll regret it.”
He leans back slightly, grimacing at my fingers digging in. “Don’t worry, my lips are sealed. Anyone who can bring down Sophia isn’t someone I want as an enemy. Besides, I can’t stand any of the royals.”
Patting his leg, I lean in to kiss his cheek. “Excellent.” Next I hand over a USB containing the video file. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Alexander, and do remember to destroy the evidence when it’s done.”
“You’ve another copy?” he asks.
“Do I look blonde?” I raise my eyes, pouting as I stand. “This isn’t my first rodeo. Give me a little credit.”
He smiles. “All hail the new queen.” He bows dramatically.
“Enough of that.” I giggle. “The crown’s not mine… yet.”
The Destruction of Rose: A High School Bully Romance (Albany Nightingale Duet Book 1) Page 19
