“Please...you wish. I was looking at your arm. So... you don’t have to be an asshole.”
His laughter is the last thing I expect, and it pisses me off even more. He unfolds his long lean body from the golf cart, stalking closer to where I stand. The predatory look that flashes in his eye making me uneasy. I don’t know this man. Maybe pissing him off isn’t the best plan.
“Not helping your case princess, but I guess I can let it slide. I do have nice arms,” he jokes, flexing his muscular bicep as if to prove his point.
I roll my eyes, throwing my hands up in aggravation. This guy may be hot, but he is a jerk. Why...oh why...are the hot ones always assholes?
“UUHHHH! No... you arrogant ass, I was looking at your tattoo!” I fume as I drop my bags and step into his personal space. His deep inhale telling me that he wasn’t expecting me to be so brave.
Well....newsflash. I have lost everything that I love. I am not scared of some over muscled douche bag.
“What... did... you... say?” he whispers, taking a step away from me like I burned him. Where moments ago, he wore a confident, cocky smile, now he looks almost angry. I shrug, pointing to the swirling black vine that peeks from beneath the cotton of his T-shirt. I don’t mean to, but I reach out to him, running my fingers across the soft skin of his arm.
He jerks away from me, and I pull my hand back. Embarrassment flooding me as I come to my senses. What in the hell is wrong with me? I can’t touch him! I don’t even know him!
“I said I was looking at your ink. I wasn’t trying to stare. I’m.....I’m sorry,” I try again, hoping that maybe we can start over.
My aqua eyes snap to his stormy blue ones, and the anger that I see there confuses me. His hand comes up, fisting a handful of his golden-brown hair as he lets out a pained curse.
“SSsshhhiiittt!!!!” he yells, and the venom in his voice causes me to step away. He looks at me then, really looks at me for the first time since driving up. He is younger than I originally thought. My age perhaps? Maybe a year older? His face morphs, a deep sadness replacing the cockiness that he wore moments before.
“You have to leave. Run before it’s too late! You shouldn’t....you can’t stay,” he whispers urgently as he surges forward and grabs me by the arms. He doesn’t hurt me....not really. He is scaring the holy hell out of me, but his gentle touch is at odds with his threating words.
“What?” I question, as I try to pull away from him. He holds tightly for a few more seconds before slowly relaxing his grip. His voice a plea that I don’t understand.
“Please Maci,” he whispers. I open my mouth to ask the one million questions that are running through my head when a new voice rings out through the darkness.
“Now....now Jaxon. Is that any way to greet our guest?”
A woman steps from the shadows, almost like she just appeared out of thin air. Her hair is as black as the night, and pulled back into a tight bun. The lines of her face look harsh, but do nothing to take away from her beauty. She has a cold beauty. She almost looks.....untouchable.
Jaxon.....
So.... the asshole has a name.
Jaxon’s body tenses, his hands digging into my skin before slowly peeling away. He takes a deep breath, rolling his neck as he steps away from me. His mask is back, and this time it is perfectly in place. He smiles, and everything about it feels wrong. Forced....fake.
“Sorry mother. You know how I get about outsiders. I thought that she was lost.”
His eyes flash to mine, and something in his stare tells me to go along with the lie. I smile, my biggest, fakest smile, as I turn to the woman that walked from the shadows.
If there is one thing that growing up among society’s elite taught me, it was how to lie. I step forward, extending my hand out to the woman. I try to sound sincere, and I am pleasantly surprised when my voice comes out steady and strong.
“Yeah. Just a misunderstanding. Isn’t that right Jaxon. My name is.....”
“I know your name child,” the woman snaps looking at my outstretched hand like it might bite her. I frown at her rudeness as I slowly lower my hand.
I thought southerners were supposed to be all about hospitality. Gesh!
Turning back to Jaxon like I am not even here his mother says, “Make sure the girl gets safely to her room. Then I expect you home. Just because your father agreed to let you have your own space does not mean that my rules do not apply to you.”
Jaxon— the man who spoke fluent smart ass to me seconds ago simply takes a deep breath before mumbling a quiet, “Yes mother.”
I blink, watching with fascination and perhaps a small dose of fear as his entire personality changes. Like her mere presence forced his compliance. The lady, who I only know as Jaxon’s mother smiles at him, before turning and walking away.
She takes about three steps before she stops, turning around so that her cold green eyes cut a path right through me. She smiles, but it looks fake, and forced, and wrong.
“My name is Wanda Worthington, and this is my school. Welcome to Hillcrest Maci dear. “
Then she is gone. Like as in there one second and gone the next. I stare at the spot where she last stood, blinking my eyes and trying to rationalize what I just saw.
People cannot just disappear...except she kind of did.
“What in the hell have I gotten myself into?” I wonder aloud.
“I told you to run,” is all that he says as Jaxon shakes his head and mutters something under his breath. He looks at me then, really looks at me, like perhaps he is just now seeing me. His steel blue eyes rake over me slowly, and the longing I see there confuses me.
Jaxon looks at me like he...he knows me.
His eyes slowly lift, latching onto me and refusing to let me go. Now that his mother is gone, I can see the smirk that he wore when we first met. The moment is intense and charged with a heat that makes me think that maybe getting shipped off to the deep south won’t be all bad.
Then he opens his mouth. I am finding that his mouth ruins it for me. Just...a..little.
“Your kind are not welcome here. I don’t know what she was thinking.....” he cuts off with a curse as he surges forward. His long legs eat up the space between us, and before I have time to process what is happening Jaxon is there. Sharing my space...breathing my air.
He is so close that I can smell the faint hint of wintergreen that surrounds him. His plump, soft lips are inches from mine as he invades my personal bubble. An invasion that I am finding I don’t mind.....not at all.
I open my mouth — to yell at him, question him, kiss him? I am not really sure what I plan to do, but his harsh words cut me off before I have the chance to do anything.
“You need to leave princess. No one wants the trouble you bring.”
Anger overpowers lust as I finally register what he is saying. I should walk away. I should turn around and run as far and as fast as I can in my heels, because something tells me that his words are more of a warning than an insult. Too damn bad I have never really been good at listening to that little voice in my head. I am more of a... let’s see what happens type of girl.
And some hidden part of me itches to know what happens when Jaxon gets pushed.
“Awww.....What’s wrong Jackie poo. Afraid you won’t be able to resist me?” I say as I step closer to him.
His eyes flash as he steps even closer to me, effectively lining up some very important parts. His hot breath washes across my cheek as he leans down. His hair tickles my neck as he brings his mouth to my ear. His voice comes out a little rough as he calls my bluff.
“Maci. I’m not the one who has trouble saying no,” he whispers as he steps away from me.
I stare in stunned disbelief as he walks back to the golf cart and takes a seat. His words cutting deeper than he intended them to. He doesn’t know....he can’t know how my inability to say no killed my best friend. That doesn’t make his words hurt less though. My hand flies to my chest, trying and failing to rub awa
y the ache that thinking about that night causes me. I am so lost in my own pity party that I don’t even register the sound of the golf cart zipping away until it is at least halfway up the massive hill that houses my new home.
“Crap!” I curse as the realization that Jaxon actually left me sets in. I look down at my beloved shoes, silently cursing my good taste. That hill is humongous, and these shoes are not made for walking. I look down at my forgotten bag, calling Jaxon every colorful name I can think of as I start the long walk to the dorms.
So far, my time here at Hillcrest has been strange as hell. The sad part is, I have a really bad feeling that this is just the beginning.
I have a million questions. Like how in the hell did my new head mistress just vanish into thin air?
What in the world did Jaxon mean when he said my kind are not welcome here? Northerners? Girls? People that have good taste in shoes?
And perhaps the most pressing question is..... how did he know my name?
And the last question I mutter aloud as my feet start to scream at me in protest. “How big is this damn hill?”
∞
~ Chapter 3~
It turns out that the hill is pretty big. I have been walking for roughly ten minutes, struggling to pull my massive suitcase up the hill from hell. My feet are screaming at me in protest, and for the first time ever I am hating my designer heels. I can vaguely make out the shadow of a building in the distance, and I assume that is my destination.
“Stupid over-muscled pretty boy wannabe,” I grumble under my breath as my heel sinks into the mud. I groan in aggravation as I work my foot from the left to the right, cringing when it snaps free and thick nasty mud covers my shoes.
The sound of husky male laughter causes me to pause, as I frantically search the darkness for any unseen threat. My eyes roam over the landscape that surrounds me, but aside from the huge ass hill I am standing on I see nothing but a few trees. Still, if my short time here at Hillcrest has taught me anything, it is that nothing here is as it seems.
“Hello......,” I call out, injecting as much bravery into my voice as possible. I don’t expect anyone to answer, especially since I am basically alone out here. I guess that is why I jump a little when his voice booms back at me. It is deep and has a smoky quality to it that instantly makes me picture him with a guitar in some seedy club.
“Hello to you as well,” he says as he too basically appears from the depth of the shadows. His tone is formal and friendly, and something about it instantly puts me at ease. His tall lanky form slowly coming into focus as he moves closer to where I stand. He is still laughing as he approaches me, and I shield me eyes when the sudden brightness from his flashlight momentarily blinds me.
“Shit....sorry,” he says lowering the light so that it illuminates the ground at my feet. My hand slowly drops, and his features come into focus. The boy before me appears around my age, and he has the rough around the edges meets preppy boy look that most people would kill for. His midnight black hair is in a styled disarray, and though it looks like he just rolled out of bed it is easy to tell that it probably took him a long time to get it to stay that way. A dimple springs to life on his left cheek as he extends his hand to me.
“Sorry about burning your retina’s. My name is Ryker, and you look like you need some help,” he says as I place my hand in his before pulling it away. His handshake is firm, and formal, and it puts a small smile on my face. Finally. Maybe I have finally found someone at this shithole with manners!
“Yes, thank you,” I say with a smile.
“Ummm.....not to sound like a dick or anything, but what are you doing out here alone at night? It’s against the rules.” The way he says it in an almost jokingly matter makes me think that this boy has no problem breaking the rules.
“Ohhhh...sorry. I wasn’t alone. I was with that asshole Jaxon who was supposed to give me a ride to the school, but as you can see.... he left me,” I fume. Something about my statement causes Ryker to laugh harder as he leans down and thankfully picks up my massive suitcase.
“Yeah sorry,” he says with a grimace. “That asshole is my brother.”
I blink, opening and closing my mouth a few times like a fish out of water. I instantly try to think of something to say to make my words seem less harsh, but come up with nothing. I called his brother an asshole. I think that pretty much speaks for itself.
Ryker must see my internal struggle, because he finally takes pity on me. His eyes dance with humor as he says, “It’s cool... really. You didn’t say anything that isn’t true. I know it....you know it. Hell, I am pretty sure even Jaxon knows it. We’re cool. I swear. Now come on. My bike is parked a little way up, and I would be glad to give you a ride to the school. That is... unless you prefer to walk.”
He doesn’t wait on me to answer. He just starts walking. He does not make it far before I snap out of my stupidity stupor and yell after him.
“Hell no! I’m coming!”
Luckily Ryker didn’t lie, and his bike (aka one of the hottest motorcycles I have ever seen) is less than a quarter mile from where he found me. I eye the black and chrome death machine with skepticism as Ryker throws a powerful thigh over her seat before placing my ginormous hot pink duffle bag securely in front of him. Almost as if he can sense my hesitation, he turns to look at me, and through the filter of the moonlight I can see his eyes soften slightly.
“Xena won’t bite,” he says with a soft chuckle as he pats the seat behind him.
A giggle slips out against my will as I take a step closer to “Xena”. My feet carry me to stand beside the bike as I force myself to take small deep breaths. It isn’t the motorcycle that scares me. It is how exposed...how dangerous that they are. I never thought about death before Ashlee, but now it seems to be all that I ever think about. That night changed something fundamental inside of me. It was like I broke into a million little pieces, and whoever put them back together got the order all messed up. I force the fear away, pushing it back into the tightly sealed box that I do my best to keep it in. I will not be afraid of a damn bike, especially one with a warrior princess name.
“You named your bike Xena?” I say as I throw my leg over the back and press myself against Ryker. My bare thighs tighten reflexively against his jean clad legs, and I suddenly wish that I would not have worn this damn skirt. His rough calloused hand reaches back, and he wordlessly pulls me closer to him. I gasp as he laughs.
“Wouldn’t want to lose you on the way up the hill. Hold on Maci,” he says with a raspy chuckle that does nothing to help the flush in my cheeks. He raises up and in one swift motion stomps down on the gas, bolting us forward. Then there are no words, just the howl of the wind as we cut through trees, kicking up dirt behind us.
I close my eyes, too stunned to speak, and too afraid to look. He knew my name. They all know my name. The question is how?
∞
I don’t have the courage to speak or look until Ryker brings the bike to a sliding stop. I can feel it as tiny pieces of gravel fly up and bounce off of my legs. My hair is probably a windblown mess, and I don’t even want to think about my skirt.
Shit! My skirt!
Not wanting Ryker to see my flashy red thong, I quickly jump off of the bike before he has a chance to turn around. I have always been clumsy, so I am not that surprised when I miss my feet and begin my face first descent toward the ground. I close my eyes, bracing for the pain that is just part of being in club clumsy ass.
Instead strong arms reach out, catching me from behind and pulling me into a hard chest. My fingers curl over the tan muscles that hold me close, and I turn around to thank Ryker for saving my face from kissing the dirt.
“You!” I hiss the moment that my eyes connect with his thundercloud gray ones. Uhhh! Of course I do something totally stupid and he is here to witness it. Whatever fate is up there must really hate me.
“I know you’re not from here princess, but the proper response is thank you,” Jaxon says as he pu
ts some much-needed space between us. I smile softly before stepping back into his space and throwing up my middle finger.
“I never claimed to be proper asshole,” I fume. His eyes flash with something that I want to explore further but Ryker’s voice stops me. He has somehow stepped between his brother and I without my noticing.
Uhhhh! I can’t see anything when Jaxon is around! He scrambles my brain. I have never met anyone who I hate so much but want so much at the same damn time. Just thinking about being in those strong arms, even for a second, makes my red thong damp and sticky! I bite my lip at the thought of what being with someone like Jaxon would be like, refusing to look at him until I can clear my head.
“I see,” he whispers as his nostrils flare and his eyes heat with something so primal that it makes me take a step closer to Ryker. Ryker watches us with worried eyes before reaching over and slapping Jaxon on the back of the head.
“What the hell!” Jaxon fumes as he stares daggers at his brother. “What was that for?”
“That was for leaving a girl stranded, alone at night. She is right! You are an asshole,” he says seriously. Jaxon does have the decency to at least look apologetic.
Well. Maybe a little.
If I expect an apology, I don’t get one. Jaxon totally ignores me, instead launching into some conversation with Ryker about risk and rules. I totally tune them both out. I figure I will get enough of that talk during orientation tomorrow. Instead I turn my attention to the notorious Hillcrest Academy.
This....I have never seen a school like this before. I am from upstate New York, so I am no stranger to high society and big fancy schools, but Hillcrest takes the cake. It is almost like stepping back in time.
The massive white brick building looks more like a castle from the mid eighteen-hundreds than a school. It stands tall and proud atop the massive hill that almost killed me to climb, but seeing the school’s beauty almost makes it worth it. It stretches at least four floors high, maybe more; and each section has its own mini tower that separates it from the others. Little gold accents are everywhere, embedded into the structure at the most random places seemingly bringing it to life. The huge door that makes up the arched entryway is black with gold handles. That isn’t what takes my breath away though. Not even close.
Hillcrest Academy Page 2
