“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I snap.
“Babe.” He cups my face, worry flitting across his face in a rare display of concern.
There are brief moments where I see a different side to Trent.
Flashes of the little boy he used to be.
Moments where I believe he might be capable of feeling something.
But they’re so fleeting I usually forget they exist.
Looking at him now, at the transparent fear on his handsome face, it would be easy to fall for him.
But I never forget the monster who lives inside.
I can’t afford to.
Not when my life is at stake.
“I know you can handle yourself. But these guys didn’t come here without an agenda. They’re up to something, and I don’t like leaving you vulnerable.”
Without warning, he kisses me. Usually, I shove him off when he attempts any display of intimacy, but I’m changing things up in a new game, so I kiss him back, feeling his pleasant surprise as I don’t resist.
Of course, Trent being Trent, he has to push it, forcing his tongue into my mouth and devouring me as he grabs hold of my ass, pulling me flush against his body, his dick hardening the longer we kiss. He gives zero fucks to our audience, and if he wasn’t such a jerk, I’d probably like that about him.
A throat clearing breaks us apart a few minutes later. Drew swats the back of Trent’s head. “That was fucking gross, and now I can’t unsee it.”
Trent smirks, grabbing my boob through my shirt to further piss him off. This time, I don’t hesitate, slapping his hand away. “You’re such a pig.”
“But I’m your pig,” he retorts, nipping at my earlobe.
“Lucky me.” Instead of using my usual sarcastic drawl, I beam at him as if butter wouldn’t melt.
“Getting more convincing.” Charlie chuckles in my ear, and I slap him away too, hauling my bestie out of my brother’s embrace, linking our arms.
“Get lost, losers. We’re out of here.” I don’t wait for their response, opening the door and dragging Jane inside with me.
Two things are the hot topic of gossip all morning—Rochelle’s public takedown and the new guys’ arrival. The place is buzzing with excitement, and I’ve never seen the cafeteria so full. Chad and Wentworth are on door duty, following the elite’s orders.
They refuse entry to the poor sap who was forced to park Jackson’s Ferrari and the girls who were flirting with him this morning. They stand there arguing, crying, and stomping their feet while the sap dutifully walks away, understanding he broke the code even if it isn’t his fault.
The guys step aside to allow Jane and I to enter, nodding respectfully at us. We go to our usual table, and Trent hops up, pulling out a chair for me. “Hey, darling.” He smiles before pecking my lips in an uncharacteristic sweet gesture. “You can sit. I already got your lunch.” I blink excessively as I stand rooted to the spot, thinking it can’t be this easy. Perhaps he’s grown a conscience, and he feels bad about the Rochelle thing. Either way, I’ll take a pleasant Trent over a grumpy, foul-mouthed Trent, any day.
Jane sits beside Drew, like always, and they share a long kiss, as usual. Charlie sits on my other side, without a female companion, as usual. The rest of our table is occupied by senior members of the inner circle. Trent slides his arm around the back of my chair, scooting in closer. I level a suspicious glance at him. “Why are you being so nice?”
“I didn’t realize it was a crime to be nice to my fiancée?”
“And what about Rochelle?”
His lips curve up. “I knew you were jealous.”
I roll my eyes, stabbing a piece of chicken with my fork, popping it into my mouth so I don’t say something I shouldn’t.
“I’m done with her. You have my word.” He leans his face closer to mine. “You know you’re the only one I love. The only one I respect.”
I arch a brow in disbelief. “You love me?”
He frowns. “Why would you even question that?”
“Because you seem to hate me more than you love me.”
“I could say the same to you.” He could, and it’d be the truth in my case.
He winds his hand through my hair, clasping my neck and pulling me to him. His lips brush against mine in a soft kiss, one I never believed him capable of. “I don’t want to fight with you anymore,” he whispers over my mouth. “And I want you to know I’m one hundred percent committed to you now. There will be no other girls. I promise.”
The last thing I need is this backfiring on me, so I carefully construct the next words out of my mouth. “I’m glad to hear that, Trent. And I’ll give you my word to stop fighting you too on one condition.”
“Name it.”
“That you respect my wish to remain a virgin until our wedding night.”
I need to buy time.
It’s as simple as that.
His Adam’s apple jumps in his throat. “I want to respect that. I do. I know you’re trying to abide by the deal, but I’ve got needs, babe.”
Swallowing my distaste, I plant my hand on his thigh, pressing my mouth close to his ear. “I can attend to your needs if you promise penetration is off the table.”
He cups my face in his large palms, probing my eyes for the truth. I’ve mastered the art of lying to men’s faces, so this isn’t a biggie for me. “Agreed.” He kisses me hard, and I let my hand glide higher, brushing the tip of his cock. He sucks in a sharp gasp, kissing me harder.
“Trent.” Drew’s clipped tone censures us, and we draw apart. “Not the time or place,” he adds as sounds of a commotion at the door reach our ears. We turn around as one, not surprised to find Jackson and Sawyer debating with Chad and Wentworth. Drew stands. “I’ll deal with the fuckers.”
“No.” I stand. “Let me.” All three guys eyeball me. “I’ll be the one remaining elite while you’re gone. I’ll be in charge, so it’s best to start now. Unless you don’t trust me?”
Drew reclaims his seat. “Have at it, little sis.” I flip him off. So what if he was born fifteen minutes before me?
Charlie nods, smiling, and I smooth a hand down the front of my gray skirt.
“You’ve got this, darling.” Trent swats my ass as I walk away, and I want to swing for him, but I draw deep breaths instead.
My heels tap noisily off the hardwood floor as I stride briskly toward the door. “Is there a problem?” I ask, my gaze bouncing between Chad and Wentworth.
“They refuse to go away,” Chad explains.
“You can let them in.” I offer Jackson and Sawyer my most disarming smile. I’ve already decided that the best way to control these wannabes is by appearing gracious. Denying them will just lead to battle, and despite my bravado, I’m not sure it’s a battle I’d win alone.
“But Trent said—”
“Are you questioning my authority?” I cut Wentworth off with a harsh stare.
“No, but—”
I shove him up against the wall, pinning my arm underneath his chin. “There are no buts. The only response is yes, Abigail. Do you understand?”
Little beads of sweat form on his brow. “Yes, Abigail.”
I let go of him, straightening his tie and slapping his cheek. “There’s a good boy.”
A loud chuckle emits behind me, and I turn to face Jackson and Sawyer. “I’m sorry about that.” I usher them inside with a wave of my hand. “It won’t happen again.”
Sawyer stares at me, trying to bury his way into my head, but I just offer him another blinding smile. Jackson slides up to my side, pressing his mouth to my ear. “So fucking hot,” he whispers. “We should go out sometime.”
“I have a fiancé.”
“Your fiancé is a slutbag douche. You’re far too good for him.”
I don’t disagree.
“A friendly word in your ears, gentlemen.” I curl my finger at Sawyer, motioning him forward. He steps up, never losing eye contact. “Things will go south quick if you don�
��t abide by the rules. You seem reliably informed, so I’m sure you’re aware. Trust me, this will be easier for everyone if you adhere to the code.” I eyeball Jackson. “That means no disrespecting any of the elite and no hitting on me.”
“I don’t play by the rules, baby,” Jackson says, curling his finger around a lock of my hair. “I was born to break ’em.” He waggles his brows, and it’s easy to see why so many girls fall for his charms.
According to the gossip mill, the guys were kicked out of their private New York academy for engaging in a drug-fueled orgy with several of the younger female teachers.
“And I’d break all the rules for you,” he adds, his warm breath fanning over my face.
“I’m not interested.” I take a step back to clear the fog in my brain. I reckon I have about ten seconds before the guys appear and take control. I can’t lose face in front of the newcomers. “And don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I spin on my heel and stride back to our table with my chin up.
“What the fuck, babe?” Trent predictably hisses when I reclaim my seat.
“Do not start with me, Trent. I’m either in control or I’m not.” We face off, and a quiet hush descends upon the table.
“You’re in control,” Drew reaffirms. “But I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I think it’s a smart move,” Charlie interjects. “Keep your enemies close and all that.”
“But not too close,” Trent snipes.
“Aw, baby. Jealous much?” I love turning his words back on him.
“Of that fuckwad?” He glares at Jackson over his shoulder. “Not fucking likely.”
CHAPTER FOUR
I take a trip to the bathroom before afternoon classes resume, stumbling upon an upset Rochelle. She’s huddled in a circle with her cronies, and they are doing their best to console her. All four heads jerk in my direction when I walk in, but I ignore them, attending to business and keeping my mask in place as I step toward the sink to wash my hands.
They haven’t spoken in the minutes since I arrived, but I know they’ve plenty to say. I can almost feel the daggers embedding in my back as I dry my hands. I turn around, homing in on Rochelle, disgusted at the bruises creeping up her neck and lining her throat.
And those are just the ones I can see.
Trent is a fucking animal, and a surge of remorse slaps me in the face. It relieved me sending him off to her last night, and I feel partly responsible. “Are you okay?” I ask.
“As if you care!” she snaps.
“I know this isn’t the first time, so why do you keep going back for more?”
“Because I love him!” She shoves me in the chest, but I’m strong from ballet and weekly sessions with my self-defense instructor, and I barely even flinch.
“He will never love you back.”
“Because you think he loves you?” she sneers, looking me up and down the same way I did her earlier.
“Because the only person Trent loves is himself.”
“Whatever, bitch. You’re pathetic. You can’t keep him satisfied long enough to keep him out of my bed.”
I can’t let this go on any longer. If this convo was just between the two of us, I could risk it, but not with an audience. Grabbing her hand, I yank her wrist back, pushing my face right up in hers as she winces. “Let’s make one thing clear. He was in your bed because I permitted it. And I can remove that permission as easily as I’ve given it.”
She doesn’t need to know Trent has already made that decision himself.
“You seem to be under a misconception, and it’s time I set you straight. I’m an elite.” I twist her wrist harder, and she cries out in pain. None of her so-called friends even attempt to help, and I’m glad at least some girls are smart enough to obey the code. “And the rules refer to me too. I’ve been lenient on you, but that ends right here, right now.”
I’ve enough on my plate handling the new guys, and I need to ensure Rochelle gets the message. Twisting her wrist farther, I hear the snap as the bone breaks. Tears leak out of her eyes while shocked gasps emit behind me. “Cross me again, and you’ll end up with more than a broken wrist.”
I don’t wait for her reply, flinging my hair over my shoulder and exiting the bathroom.
The rest of the week passes uneventfully. Jackson and Sawyer keep their noses clean and stay out of our way. I’m not naïve enough to think my little pep talk worked.
No.
They’re biding their time.
Waiting for Marshall to show up and the guys to leave before they make a move. I’m sure of it.
They take the same seat in the cafeteria at lunch, always sitting by themselves, but none of us miss the surreptitious looks sent their way by most of the female population.
Friday is the guys’ last day here for a month. We held a meeting at our place last night to go over the plans in their absence. So, we’re waiting for Sawyer and Jackson, at their table in the cafeteria, by prior arrangement.
“A welcoming committee?” Jackson slaps a hand over his chest. “For little ole me? You shouldn’t have.”
“Are you always this dramatic?” I ask, folding my arms across my chest.
“Always. Interested now, baby?”
“Not if you were the last guy on Earth and humanity’s survival rested on us,” I lie, because, honestly, if I was free to fuck whoever I wanted, I’d happily fuck him.
“Ouch,” Sawyer deadpans, oozing lethal charm. “I see rumors of your claws are not unfounded.”
“Enough,” Trent growls. “We want a meeting. After school. West parking lot. Don’t be late.”
“You’re late,” Drew says as the two wannabes stroll up to us, ten minutes after the parking lot has emptied.
“What you gonna do?” Jackson taunts. “Write me up?”
“Maybe Abigail will break a bone,” Sawyer adds, letting me know he’s heard about Rochelle.
“Don’t tempt me, jackass.”
“That also seriously fucking turns me on,” Jackson adds, thrusting his hips forward.
“Is there anything that doesn’t turn you on?” I retort.
“Other dudes and the Kardashians,” he blurts, fake shivering. “But apart from that, not a lot.”
“We didn’t ask you here for comedy hour,” Charlie cuts in. “Where is Camden Marshall?”
“Why do you want to know, and why the fuck should we tell you?” Sawyer answers.
“If you’ve forgotten, we run this school, and we don’t need to give an explanation,” Drew supplies. “What’s the deal with him, and no bullshit.”
Jackson shrugs, leaning back against the hood of Trent’s car, lighting up a blunt. “He had family shit to attend to, but he’ll be here Monday. Anything else, Your Highness?”
I smother a snort of laughter. Sawyer watches me circumspectly out of the corner of his eye, not missing anything, and that helps eliminate my sudden burst of hilarity.
“We’re heading out of state for a while,” Trent says.
“We got the memo,” Sawyer says, crossing his arms. “Parkhurst, right?”
“What the fuck do you know about Parkhurst,” Trent demands, narrowing his eyes.
“We know enough.” Sawyer straightens up, letting his arms fall to his side as tension bleeds into the air.
I’ve heard mention of Parkhurst over the years, the training camp for male members of the elite, but I haven’t been able to find out a single thing about what kind of camp it is or what goes on there. No amount of bribery works on any of the guys. Apparently, they’ve sworn an oath not to discuss it with outsiders, and that includes female elite. It’s been a major source of tension between us over the years, so I’ve no clue how Jackson and Sawyer know about it.
Charlie, Drew, and Trent exchange looks, but I can’t read into it. Jackson looks amused while Sawyer is on high alert, knowing he’s pressed a button, waiting to see how they react.
Drew clears his throat. “Abigail is in control in our absence.” He steps righ
t up to Sawyer. “If any of you give her trouble, you’ll be answerable to us when we return.”
“We’re quaking in our boots,” Jackson tosses out, leaning fully back on the hood, blowing smoke circles into the air.
“Get the fuck off my car,” Trent barks.
Jackson slides off the car, sauntering toward Trent with the blunt extended toward him. “You need to chill out, man.”
“Fuck. You.” Trent brushes his hand aside.
“Told you dudes aren’t my scene. I’m a pussy lover, through and through.” He sends a devilish glint my direction, and I can’t decide if he’s brave, stupid, or just doesn’t give a shit. “You need to ride his cock more often, beautiful. Maybe he’ll chill the fuck out then.”
“Lauder.” Sawyer pins Jackson with a cautionary expression, and he holds up one palm in a conciliatory gesture.
“My bad. Abigail’s in charge. No hitting on her. Got it.” Jackson grins, and I wonder if anything fazes that dude.
“We done here?” Sawyer inquires.
“Pass the message onto your buddy Marshall,” Charlie adds as Trent takes my hand, steering me toward his car.
“Enjoy your vacation,” Sawyer says, enunciating the word, raising hackles on the back of my neck. Then they walk off as if they don’t have a care in the world.
“I’ll miss you, baby,” Trent purrs, buttoning up his pants.
I won’t. I didn’t realize attending to Trent’s needs meant sinking to my knees daily, but I do what I have to, and there’s no denying he’s more pliable now I’m showering him with affection.
“Me, too. This week’s been good,” I lie, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my body against his, fighting the bile swimming up my throat.
“Remember what I said,” he says, sliding his hand underneath my skirt, cupping my bare ass cheeks. “I want photos and videos. Daily. I need plenty of ammo for the spank bank.”
Gross. “I haven’t forgotten.” But if he thinks I’m sending him explicit pictures of myself, he’s delusional. As if I’d give him that kind of ammunition to use against me at some future point. Not a chance in hell.
Cruel Intentions Page 4
