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Broken Wing (Arthur Academy Book 1)

Page 8

by Kathleen Mareé


  Lucys’ eyes widen, like she can’t believe he would say such a thing, when Mercedes adds. “But some of us can’t get the permanent ones we want.” Her eyes move over her shoulder toward a table behind us, and after Banks comment the other day to Tucker – I can’t help but wonder if she’s looking at the elites table. A table, I suddenly become all too aware of, and of a certain someone I’ve been trying to avoid too.

  “I don’t know who I want yet. That’s the thing. No one’s really caught my attention. I want to feel that thing you know.”

  “That thing? I’m sure you’ve felt it Gabe,” Lucy jokes as she tosses his carrot back at him.

  “Ha-ha. I mean that thing – that feeling you know. I know I love sex but anyone wants to feel special for more than one night.” He shrugs his shoulders and casually sits back in his seat. “Wow that was deep even for me. I don’t know, maybe I’m having a midlife crisis or something.”

  “Or something,” Mercedes mumbles, causing me to sneak a look at her. She looks sad again today, but in the short time I’d been here, I wasn’t as close to her as I had become with the others. So, I stuffed my hand in my backpack, and tugged out my student card instead.

  “Luce, you coming for something to eat?” I ask as I stand. She nods and hops up, linking her arm with mine with a huge smile on her face.

  “So, you’re not going to ask where Tucker is today?” she teases, causing me to roll my eyes.

  “Honestly, I wish you would stop with that. Quit playing matchmaker.”

  “It’s not like that, I promise. I’d just like to see you have a little fun. Like remember those parties I dragged to you during your first week? When we were dancing, and you were crashing in my room? We had fun, right? I know you want to do your study thing, which is what you’ve been doing and I admire it and all don’t get me wrong, but Tuckers a nice guy and he likes you. I don’t know, I guess I just want to see you smile more, and a nice guy could be what you need.”

  I glance over at her, as she sombrely glances at the phone in her hand. I couldn’t help but think her pushing me toward Tucker had more to do with something else she was going through rather than me – but again, I didn’t ask. I wasn’t the type to push someone for their secrets, when I too, had my own.

  “I’ll have fun. I’ll let you drag me to some more parties and I’ll be hanging out with my new friends. But I just… I just want to focus on getting my life together without anything else right now. Okay?”

  “Your life together? Come on Hendrix we aren’t adults yet. We have plenty of time for that stuff.” I don’t reply as Lucy grabs her water from the fridge, and I glance at the food in front of me that I now have no desire to even eat. To be honest, I’d felt like an adult for the last few years now, especially since the time I was finally able to leave my home. After that night when the simple beatings my father liked to dish out – became so much more. So much so, that it was the reason I didn’t want to have boy drama or even think about having fun the way Gabe did. A night, I promised I would never think about again. And a night – that made me finally leave the safety of a roof over my head, change my name and leave that old life forever. The nights in the shelters, and alone on the streets, were sometimes so bad that it made me want to go back and relive that hell in my childhood home with them. But I never gave in. I never went back. I couldn’t, because I knew if I did go back - I wouldn’t have left again alive. I shake my head, when the cafeteria lady behind the buffet seems to be trying to get my attention. I smile awkwardly, settling on some fruit and swiping my student card until I hear the acceptance ring on the machine ping.

  “No wonder you’re scrawny. What? Do you have some eating disorder too?”

  I sigh, hearing the nasally sound of Ambers voice behind me. She’d been quiet the past few days, since our altercation last week, but stupid me to think she’d move onto other pastures. I grab my tray without glancing up and move around her and I’m shocked to see she actually lets me this time.

  “What? You think you’re too good to speak to me…. Hendrix James?”

  I stop. Hearing the tone she spoke my last name. My body seizes up, as my previous thoughts about my past start flooding to the surface. My hands tremble. I’m suddenly overcome with some notion that she’s implying something…. Something she couldn’t know. She just couldn’t…. Right?

  “Excuse me?” I mutter absently, as I turn to face her smug smile.

  “Oh, sorry are you talking to me now?” she asks with nothing but sarcasm, her fake nails paused at her chest faux-innocently. “I was just asking if you think you were too good to answer me when I’ve spoken to you? We don’t take lightly to people like you thinking you are better. When let’s face it – you’re not.”

  I could feel my fist clench in silent anger, when this girl did nothing but go out of her way to annoy me. I stole a breath though, trying to calm the bubbling agitation that was building inside me.

  “I never said I was better, nor do I think that. Actually, when it comes to you – I think nothing,” I state, not even a hint of bite in my voice; because I was just being honest. But as I continued to look up at her, one hand holding my lunch tray against my hip, I could see the silent fury building inside of her as she gazed down at me with nothing but contempt.

  “You know what I think….” She starts, as she takes another step toward me.

  “No, we don’t care what you think. Are you deaf? Hendrix already told you that.” Lucy settles beside me and links my free arm with hers, shooting daggers at the girl and her friend still standing over us.

  “Ah, well if it isn’t little Lucy. What are you all out of new dolls to play with now that you’ve moved onto the poor-used ones now?” Amber snarks, making a not-so-subtle glance in my direction. “Or maybe you are sick and tired of trying to catch the eye of one of us – when you know he would never be interested in you like that.”

  I felt Lucy tense beside me, some of her previous bravado evaporating in an instant. And whilst I didn’t understand what Amber meant with her words, it was obvious that Lucy did. And she didn’t like it either.

  “You… you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lucy mutters, causing Amber to shriek in laughter causing half the room to now move their attention to us.

  “Don’t be stupid or naïve. I know everything. And I know enough to know he thinks of you as someone he would play in the sandpit with, and not someone he’d want beside him or in his bed.”

  When I peek at Lucys’ face and see the slight tear form in her eye, I’d had enough. I wasn’t going to stand by and let this girl bully the only girl who has been nothing but nice to me. I let go of Lucy’s arm, and take a protective step in front of her, leaving only myself and my lunch tray – wedged between Amber and I.

  “You know, for someone as beautiful and put-together as you, you like making yourself look pretty damn ugly.”

  “How dare you talk to me like that freshman. You’re a nobody.”

  “Really? Well, I can’t be that much of a nobody when you seem to track me down every damn chance you get? Seriously, if you are so much better than me, then why don’t you just turn around and take your precious status – the hell away from me.”

  I see her hand raise beside her, before I even comprehend what she plans to do with it. That sixth sense of mine always on alert from the violence I always anticipated before feeling its’ wrath. But before she makes contact with my cheek, or tray – the formidable beast himself appears behind her out of nowhere and snatches her hand mid-strike in his firm grasp.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  That voice. That deep, deadly tone caused shivers to caress my skin. And I’m not sure if it’s because of how threatening he sounds – or something else entirely.

  “Paxy, baby. I was just… did you hear what this trash just said to me?” she whines, floundering beside him.

  But those eyes of his… That deepest, darkest brown with a hint of gold, just gazed straight at m
e. “I don’t care.”

  “But baby…”

  He drops her hand, and runs his hand anxiously through his hair, as he side-eyes the rest of the cafeteria who were now silently staring open-mouthed right at us. The attention seems to annoy him, and he grabs Amber roughly by the hand and tugs her behind him forcibly.

  “Paxy stop. We can’t let her get away with it….” she mutters as he continues to drag her back to his table. I shake my head, and turn to see Lucy lost in thought behind me, her arms wrapped protectively around her stomach sadly.

  “Hey, are you okay?” I ask, causing her to snap out of her haze.

  “Yeah. I just… ugh I hate her. I hate this school, I hate my father, and I hate the elites so much.” She stalks to our table, grabs her bag and saunters out of the room with an agitated sway to her petite hips.

  And I can’t help but notice that her focus was also on the elites table before she took off, making me wonder what the hell Amber had said to her that seemed to upset Lucy so much.

  And whether I should try and help her, or keep my nose well out of it.

  Chapter Twelve

  Paxton

  When I decided to boycott classes for the rest of the day, I drove to my fathers’ place on the outskirts of town and planned to wait it out for him to return home from the office. I’d been waiting for days to see what my father had planned after River dropped that bomb about him being at the academy, but so far, he hadn’t shown his hand. Yet. And whilst I was taught patience is key in becoming a ruthless leader one day – it only stretched so far.

  And never when it came to matters where my father was concerned.

  Which is why I find myself in his office to see if I can find out what the fuck my father wants to involve himself in now. It may have also been spurred on by the fact that I not-so-subtly intervened in the cafeteria when Amber was back in Hendrix’s face. I swear I don’t know what that girl has pulled over me, but it’s like I have this fierce need to protect her. She’s different. I’m getting that, but stepping in like I did today, especially so publicly - was overstepping. She would be even more on Ambers radar now, and given how she thinks she’s queen to my throne – which she isn’t and never will be – I’d hate to see I’d made things worse for her now.

  I’m so lost in thought as I nestle further into the tan, leather guest chair in fathers office, that I didn’t think the plan through enough though. I’ve been more than preoccupied, between my fathers plans, and Hendrix, that my eyes widen as I glance at the clock. I’ve been waiting in this empty monstrosity for him to show up now for the last five hours. It was well past six now, which meant I should be getting ready to meet the boys for taco Tuesday at the local diner. Whoever came up with these fucking nightly hangs should find something better to do with their time. But again, it was something that was expected of us to be seen at, so week after week, it’s what we did.

  “And what do I owe the pleasure son?”

  Finally, my father waltzes into the room carrying that air of ego with him like he’s had all day to do so. That voice that sends the darkest shiver down my spine, is accompanied by an older version of me and causes my heart to spike. I got dads looks sure, who will often tell you how he was a fucking god back in his day. The greying hair, sunspots and wrinkles tell a different story now, but he’s still the same lethal son-of-a-bitch that I hear he was back then. My mothers’ a total sweetheart though. I know she was dirt poor when they met, but how she ditched a nice, quiet life by falling in love and marrying this piece of work, I will never understand. I always had hope that some of her kind-hearted spirit lived inside of me, but as the years go by, I know my father will kill whatevers left. Just like it has with her.

  “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “Don’t waste my time boy. Obviously, you’ve been waiting for me. What’s the problem?” he strides past me, where I wait on the sofa, dropping his briefcase on the table and un-doing his tie.

  “Rumor says you had a meeting at the Academy last week.”

  “Rumors,” he scoffs. “What’s the matter son, are you sad I didn’t take you to lunch?”

  My fists are already balling at my sides, just watching the way he doesn’t even bother looking at me. Like I’m a fucking inconvenience.

  “What business do you have there? I thought we had a deal.” I’m standing before him, tense as steel, whilst he barely contains his arrogant smile.

  “Deal? I made no such thing. And what business of yours is it what I do with my affairs?”

  “Then tell me what business you had at the school. You promised to let me do my thing these last two years and then I’m yours. The Academy is my turf.”

  He finally stops fussing with his things and looks at me with an exhausted sigh. “Let’s get one thing straight boy. You, are always mine. If situations or plans change that’s my right not yours. I’m letting you have your freedom. Play that stupid game and mess around with as many of those rich whores as you wish. I won’t step in and tell you that it’s a disgrace to our name, or that football is for amateurs and not rulers like us. As long as your discreet, I won’t step in.”

  I narrow my eyes. “So, you’re saying I haven’t been discreet? Is that what this is about?”

  “Did you know that Amber Westwood is pregnant?”

  I school my features.

  That I did not know, but it was last year that I fucked around with her and I haven’t touched her since. But with this news, some other dots start connecting in my mind; starting with the little secret I’ve been harboring about who I know she’s been discreetly messing around with behind closed doors. A secret I’d keep until I needed to use it for a purpose. And this little piece of information makes that situation – a whole more interesting. And at that thought, I smirk cockily. “No, but I pity the poor bastard that knocked-up that piece of work.”

  Something must be wrong right now, because my father simply smiles. And I’ve known him my whole life, and he doesn’t smile. Ever. Unless he’s going in for the kill.

  “Well, that’s the thing son. We worked out a partnership with the Westwood family who are offering to sell us half of their stocks and shares in the Westwood chain, if you make an honorable woman out of dear Amber who has found herself in quite the predicament.”

  And my cocky smile falls in an instant.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. It’s a business deal nothing more.” He strides to his bar and starts pouring himself a glass of whisky, like he’s announced the weather forecast and not my entire fucking future.

  “A business deal? You’re calling marrying that whore, a business deal?”

  “What’s the problem? It’s a piece of paper. You can keep messing around as much as you like, the Westwoods’ keep their family honor, and we get more power and money than we ever dreamed. It’s a win for us all.”

  I ignore the fact that my own father thinks this way, when my mother could be in the other room right now reading a book. Or the fact that he disregards human lives as easily as signing on the dotted line. But I can’t ignore the fact that this piece of shit gave me his word of two years of freedom, and he’s fucking breaking that right before my eyes. I know it’s not much, but it was all I had. And that too, he’s taking from me.

  “You gave me your word of two years. Two years and then I’ll be the pawn you want me to be.”

  “Son, I’m not saying you need to marry her next week. A long engagement is fine. That’s what the meeting at the school was about. I informed the Chancellor and the Dean that they need to be discreet. Amber will finish her classes at the end of the semester before she starts showing, and to give you two time to announce your engagement before she finishes her degree at home. The school body will be told she’s transferring to Paris to finish the year, so no one suspects anything about her situation. Your two years of freedom doesn’t change. Still play your football. Still screw around. We just have some foundations to lay for after that time. And you will nee
d to be discreet in public. Do you understand?”

  I watch in utter irritation as he downs his glass of whisky, and is already filling another. I don’t understand what I did to deserve him as a father, but I know without a doubt talking to him will only fall on deaf ears.

  “I understand,” I grit, knowing full well it’s over my dead body this is happening.

  He stalks toward me until his brown eyes are level with mine. “You mean, Sir,” he states slowly, causing me to hold my breath in anticipation. The fast punch that meets my cheek isn’t unexpected, but I don’t even attempt to move out of its’ path. Sometimes I let him hit me. Even though I’m more than capable to fight back. I feed off the pain sometimes, like it dulls the constant ache that seems to simmer inside me. It numbs me even; and makes it easier to deal with than the wrath from the other senior elites if I knocked my old man out cold. When my head stops its’ whip to the right, my tongue runs over what I feel like is a chipped tooth from the hit. I breathe hard through my nose, before slowly turning back to face him.

  “Sir,” I nod.

  But one day – he will push me too far.

  And I wouldn’t wish the wrath that will come that day - on anyone.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hendrix

  “What do you mean you need a job? What does having a job even mean?” Lucy whines, as I tuck my tee into my black jeans, and slip into my boots.

  “It means I need something to do to earn money. Not all of us have a platinum credit card to use whenever we need something.” I grab the newspaper clipping I took from the student paper, and tuck it in my back pocket.

  “Do you need stuff Hendrix? You know if you need anything I’m happy to help you out? You’re my friend, and besides, I barely use my allowance anyway.”

  “Luce, that’s super generous of you, but I can’t let you do that. Look I don’t expect you to understand, but in the real world – the world that I live in, people need to find jobs so they can earn their way. Then they don’t owe anyone anything, and they are independent.”

 

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