I hate the traditions myself, and I’m tired of walking the hallways with the guys acting like I’m superior to everyone else, but even I’ve got to admit school is a more pleasant experience when everyone is sticking to the rules.
Chad shrugs. “Sometimes people prefer change.”
“That’s not what this is,” Jane says, lowering her voice as she leans in close to both of us. “I overheard some girls talking in the bathroom. They’re buying their allegiance with cool stuff.”
My brows climb to my hairline and my voice oozes disbelief. “Everyone in this school is wealthy, and there isn’t anything their money can’t buy.”
“They’re offering early access to the latest xNet6 cell phone, and Jackson’s planning a race day at his father’s private track in New York where he’s promising everyone they can take some official team cars for a spin.”
I snort. “Wow. That’s bribery at its finest. Have they no shame?”
“They’re new money, Abigail,” Chad says, a look of disgust washing over his face. “Of course, they’ve no shame. This is what they do. Throw their money and their status around. It’s so uncouth.”
I look at Chad with fresh eyes, a grin spreading over my face as an idea surfaces in my mind. “I like you, Chad. I see now why the guys trust you.” He blushes, running a hand through his light-brown hair, and it’s so cute. I lean into him, my eyes glimmering as the plan takes shape in my mind. “I need you to grab a group of five or six. Only those you’d trust with your life. Can you have that set up by this weekend?” I’ll need a few days to set this in motion.
“Absolutely.” A wide grin plays across his full lips. “What do you have in mind?”
I shoot a scathing look at the table across the way, my eyes meeting Cam’s, because even though he has the skank pawing at him from his lap again, his gaze is firmly locked on mine. “The new elite may use bribes to buy their way to the top but the old elite resort to blackmail to get what they want, and we won’t stop now.” My gaze bounces between Jane and Chad. “We’ll uncover dirt on every defector and use that to bring them back on our side.”
Because I’m fucked if I’ll let everything turn to hell in a handbasket and have the guys say I told you so when they return.
Camden Marshall isn’t going to get the better of me.
He’s about to find out what happens when you dare cross a Manning.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Our last ballet rehearsal is in the bag, and I’m making my way out of the theater into the dark night, alone—because my last sighting of Oscar showed him hurrying out of the theater with his cell pressed to his ear—when someone grabs me from behind, shoving something black over my head, masking my vision completely.
I open my mouth to scream, but a large hand clamps over my lips, muffling my sounds through the covering. A meaty arm snakes around my waist, and I’m drawn back against a hard torso. Blood thrums in my ears and adrenaline courses through my veins as my heart accelerates wildly behind my ribcage. Someone binds my legs and hands together before I can invoke any self-defense moves, and panic bubbles up my throat. I’m roughly thrown over a shoulder, a hand plastered across the backs of my thighs, keeping me in place.
I try to calm down. To use my other senses to take in my surroundings, but with panic weighing on my chest and white noise screaming in my ears, I’m finding it difficult to concentrate. I focus on my breathing, drawing deep breaths in and out to stay calm.
A car door slams open and shut. Whispered words are just out of reach of my eardrums, and then I’m flung into a confined space, my knees shoved up to my chest as a loud bang startles me. More doors open and shut, and when the quiet hum of an engine purrs to life, I know I’m locked in a trunk. My body is jostled as the car moves off, and I lift my arms and stretch out my legs, as far as I can with the painful bindings cutting into my wrists and my ankles, testing how wide the space is.
Not wide at all is the answer, adding to my frustration and fear.
How the hell did this happen, and where on Earth did Oscar disappear to? Did they ambush him too? And who are these people?
The list of my father’s enemies is long and far-reaching, and there are plenty of people who’d kidnap me for ransom too. Although, if they knew my father, they’d realize the futility of such a plan. My father would probably pay them to not bring me back. At least not until I’m due to walk up that aisle.
But, if I had to bet, my money’s on the new elite. This smacks of something they’d attempt to terrorize me, to further drive their point home, and I’m damn well not going to play into their hands.
I don’t know how long we travel, but it’s long enough for the intense heat of the trunk to become cloying, sticking matted strands of my hair to my forehead under the heavy cloth bag covering my face. My lacy tank top clings to my damp back, and my skin’s on fire under my thick hoodie. My wrists and ankles sting because whichever bastard tied them tied them too tight.
I will annihilate these fuckers.
When I’m done with them, they’ll wish they were dead.
I cling to my anger the entire trip, refusing to consider any other scenario other than this is the work of Camden, Sawyer, and Jackson.
My body slams against the rear of the trunk as the car makes a sharp turn, and I cry out as pain zips up and down my back. I grit my teeth and try to ignore the throbbing in my spine as the car slows down. My chest heaves as panic rears its head again, and I resort to deep breathing to remain collected.
A clicking sound, followed by booted feet, confirms someone has opened the trunk. Firm hands grip my upper arms, and I’m pulled out. My legs protest, cramping up, and I slouch against a warm body.
“Fuck. Her wrists are bleeding,” a familiar voice says, and rage is like a charging bull plowing through me.
“Barely,” Cam replies to Sawyer before adding, “Do you have the feed ready?”
“Yes,” he snaps, and I detect some tension between them.
They yank the covering off my head, and someone brushes my knotty, sweaty hair back off my forehead.
“Fuck, she’s a mess,” Jackson says.
“What did you expect when you threw me in the trunk?” I snap as I blink my eyes open.
“Hand me those cutters,” Cam says, ignoring me as he takes them from Jackson and clips the plastic ties digging into the torn, bloody skin on my wrists. The relief is instantaneous but short-lived.
Cam unzips my hoodie, yanking it down my stiff arms and tossing it to Sawyer. He eyes my lacy silk tank with a calculated stare before yanking it down by the hem, exposing more of my cleavage.
My face burns with outrage, my mouth open with a slew of cusses lining up on my tongue, when he dips his hands into the cups of my bra, rolling my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. I swat at his hands, but Jackson reacts fast, yanking them behind my back, pressing into the tender flesh of my wrists, causing me to cry out.
“I would’ve done that,” Jackson says, and Cam levels him with a dark look over my shoulder.
“Get your fucking hands off me,” I holler. “Or I’ll scream.”
“Go for it, sweetheart,” he says, eyeballing me as his fingers continue to pluck at my nipples. I hate how they immediately stand to attention for him, but my body hasn’t understood he’s the enemy yet. “We’re in an empty parking lot,” he adds, urging me to examine my surroundings. “There’s no one to hear you.”
“What do you want? And what did you do to my bodyguard and my driver?”
“We created a diversion at your house to distract them. And we laid a spike strip out on the road to delay Jeremy on his way back,” Sawyer says, not looking up from the laptop he’s furiously typing away on.
“And let’s just say Oscar is taking a little nap and leave it at that,” Jackson confirms with a grin.
“If you’ve hurt him, I’ll kill you,” I cry out, terrified at what they might’ve done to him. Oscar was only working late tonight because I had a long rehearsal. Or
dinarily, he’d be at home with his family, and I hate he’s gotten mixed up in this.
It hasn’t escaped my notice they know both of their names, and it’s clear they’ve done due diligence. They are two steps ahead of me at every turn, and I’ve got to rectify that.
“This won’t work,” Cam says, removing his hands. “Give me the bag.”
Jackson lets go of my wrists, and I shove at Cam’s chest, forgetting my feet are still tied. I crash to the stone floor on my butt, biting down hard on my lower lip as a fresh wave of pain rattles my tailbone. Tears prick my eyes, but I refuse to set them free. “Fuck.” I suck in a sharp breath as Cam crouches down on the ground, breaking the ties binding my feet.
“That was your fault.” He hauls me up by my elbows, and I glare at him. “Hold her,” he tells Jackson, taking the black Gucci bag from him.
“Hey! That’s mine!” I protest as Jackson slides his arm around my waist from behind.
“Gold star for the rich bitch,” Cam snaps, unzipping the bag and examining the contents.
“You’re fucking assholes. All of you,” I hiss as I watch him remove items from my closet. It appears Sawyer stole more than just panties.
“This should work,” Cam says, grinning as he stands upright, dangling a black push-up bra from the end of his finger.
I gulp over the lump wedged in my throat. “I’m not putting that on.” I pierce him with a venomous look.
“No one asked you to,” he retorts, grinning.
“Arms up, beautiful,” Jackson says into my ear, and I jab my elbow back, hitting him in the ribs.
“Fuck,” he winces, letting go of me to rub a hand over his rib cage.
Cam yanks me to him by the elbow. “Didn’t your father teach you that ladies don’t hit?”
“I’m no lady,” I grit out, trying to wrestle out of his hold.
“I’m getting that.” Cam turns his head toward Sawyer. “Is that ready because she needs an incentive to cooperate. I’m already out of patience.”
“It’s ready.”
Cam flings my bra at Jackson and drags me over to where Sawyer has the laptop perched on top of the hood of the Land Rover. “Watch,” Cam demands, gripping my chin painfully and forcing my eyes to the screen.
Sawyer presses the play button, and all the blood drains from my face as the recording starts.
Jane is in her bedroom, buck-ass naked on top of her bed, with her legs open wide, pleasuring herself. I feel sick to the pit of my stomach, and I can’t mask my horrified expression. She has her cell propped up against two fluffy cushions at the end of the bed, and I’ve no doubt my brother was watching or she was recording it to send to him. She calls out Drew’s name as she pumps two fingers inside herself, her back arching off the bed, little whimpers leaking from her mouth as she works herself into a frenzy. I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to violate my friend any more than they have violated her. This is such a massive invasion of her privacy, and I’m equally incensed and disgusted. “Turn it off,” I snap, but they ignore me, and I’m forced to listen as she climaxes.
“I’ve jerked off to that at least five times,” Jackson says, right at my ear. “And I love how she’s incorporated it into her daily nighttime routine. She’s definitely missing your brother and so sexually frustrated I might have to do her myself.”
“You leave her the fuck alone!” I yell. “This has nothing to do with Jane.” My voice cracks. “Please. I’ll do whatever you want. Just leave Jane out of this.”
“Open your eyes,” Cam instructs, and I snap my eyes open as Sawyer mercifully shuts the video off. “Do we have your attention now?”
“You already had my attention. Wasn’t knowing my non-virgin status enough?”
“That didn’t seem to motivate you sufficiently, so we improvised.” Cam shakes his head. “We took this path because you wouldn’t do what we told you. This is all on you.” That truth sits in my gut like sour milk.
“As long as you cooperate,” Cam continues, “that video won’t see the light of day. Cross us, and we won’t just share it with our classmates. We’ll put it out all over the web, and she’ll be infamous overnight for all the wrong reasons.”
“How do I know you won’t double-cross me?”
Cam smirks, and I want to smash his face with a mallet so he looks as ugly on the outside as he is on the inside. “You’re just going to have to trust us.”
“There’s no honor between thieves,” I hiss.
“You’d know,” he instantly retorts, putting his face up in mine.
What the fuck does that mean?
The look of pure hatred on his face has me stepping back instinctively.
“You have our word that the tape won’t be released provided you do what we tell you,” Sawyer says, sending a cautionary look in Cam’s direction.
“Which is what?”
“Strip for starters.” Jackson’s gaze homes in on my tits. “I’ve been dying to see your tits up close and personal.”
“You can’t be serious?” I blurt, panic welling in my throat, beseeching Sawyer with my eyes because he seems to be the only one with some modicum of decency and self-control.
“You need to play the part of a seductress and that outfit, those tits,” Cam says, waving his hands in front of my chest, “won’t cut it.”
A stabbing pain pricks my heart, but I harden it, knowing I’ll do whatever it is they want me to do because the game has changed, and I’ll do anything to protect Jane. It isn’t her fault they’ve brought her into this. That is all on me and it’s my job to ensure that video never gets aired. It would destroy my best friend and most likely convince Drew to commit murder. Not that I’m opposed to ending any of these assholes, but I’d rather keep my brother out of jail.
“Fine.” I lift my tank top up, throwing it in Cam’s face. Jackson chuckles. “Give me the bra.” I hold out my hand, keeping my gaze focused straight ahead.
“No.” Cam drops my top on the ground, snatching the push-up bra from Jackson’s fingers. “You don’t set the rules here.”
I don’t set the rules anywhere, but articulating that won’t help, so I clamp my lips shut.
Cam moves toward me like a hunter ensnaring his prey. With his free hand, he snaps my flimsy lace bra open in one skillful move, dragging the straps down my arms until it falls away, leaving me topless.
My cheeks burn as I feel their heated eyes on me, but I continue staring ahead, looking straight through that bastard, not giving them the satisfaction of knowing how humiliated I am.
Cool fingers brush across one nipple, and my stomach twists.
“Don’t touch her,” Cam says, swatting Jackson’s hand away.
“Aw, c’mon, man. You got to fuck her. At least let me suck her tits.”
“Like I said, I’ll be the only one touching her. You can’t control yourself.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it. You can’t hide the fact your cock is hard too. I can fucking see the bulge in your jeans.”
Cool air swirls around my exposed chest, and the longer this goes on, the more I seethe.
“Just put the damn bra on her,” Sawyer says, frustration evident in his tone. “We have things to do unless your hormones have eradicated your brain function entirely.”
“Don’t take that fucking tone with me,” Cam growls at his friend. He tilts my chin up. “Eyes on me.”
I clench my jaw so hard I’m worried it might snap. His eyes drill into mine as he tweaks my nipples again. Sawyer sighs, but before he can say anything, Cam speaks indirectly to him. “We have little to work with, so some staging is in order.”
My fists ball up at my sides, and I want to inflict pain on him so badly.
Keeping his eyes trained on mine, he lowers his head, sucking first one nipple and then the other into his hot mouth. “I remember how much you liked it when I did that,” he says, swirling his tongue across my nipples one at a time
Loud groans echo in the empty parking lot, and my head sn
aps sideways. Jackson has his cock in hand, and he’s frantically pumping himself as he stares at his friend sucking my tits.
“You guys are fucking pervs.”
“You should be proud, beautiful,” Jackson grunts, licking his lips as he strokes himself harder and faster. “Few girls can make me come without touching.” A primal roar erupts from his mouth as he sprays cum all over the asphalt, his eyes rolling back in his head as he milks his release to completion.
A muscle pops in Sawyer’s jaw, but that’s the only sign he’s mad.
“You like that, baby?” Cam says, finally lifting his head from my tits. “You want his cock inside you?” He grips my chin painfully. “Or are you still dreaming about mine?”
“The only place you feature is in my nightmares.”
“Touché, sweetheart.” He slides the push-up bra up one arm and then the other, hooking it over my shoulders, eliciting a rake of tiny shivers as his fingers brush against my sensitive skin, before clipping it in place. Then he reaches into each cup, molding my breasts until they look satisfactory, and my humiliation is complete. “Throw me that red top and the heels,” he tosses over his shoulder.
Sawyer hands them to him. “Hurry the fuck up.”
Cam ignores him, slowly pulling the red tank top down over my head, fitting it in place. Then he drops to his knees, removes my ballet flats one at a time, and slips my black Prada heels on. His touch is soft and his gaze focused as he fits my feet into both shoes. No one says anything as he gently cleans my wrists, applies Band-Aids, and then slips two gold cuff-bands on.
He dabs at my face with a tissue, mopping up any damp patches, and then he removes my makeup bag from my purse, adding blush to my cheeks and slicking gloss across my lips. The two other guys watch in some kind of morbid fascination. He runs his fingers through my hair next, fluffing it up, and a pleasurable warmth ghosts over my skull.
I hate he has magical fingers.
Fingers that turn me on with barely a touch.
But I hate myself more in this moment.
Cruel Intentions Page 11
