Ruthless Idols: A Paranormal High School Bully Romance (Gifted Academy Book 2)

by Michelle Hercules

  “Pretty boy?” I raise an eyebrow while the corners of my lips curl upward.

  “Oh come on. You know how you look.”

  I don’t know if Daisy is trying to change the subject or if her drug-addled brain can’t focus on one thing for too long. My ego wants her to keep talking about how I look, but my curiosity wants to know everything about her. Maybe I can discover if she’s working with the Knights after all. Or get a clue to what happened to my memories on the evening she went missing.

  “You can talk about how attractive you find me later. So, what was it like living on the streets? Brutal, I suppose. Can’t imagine how two Norm kids could survive unscathed.”

  “Who says we didn’t get hurt?”

  The most awful scenarios come to my mind. A pretty girl like Daisy would have been the target of the foulest predators. Bile pools in my mouth, and my knuckles turn white from holding the steering wheel too tight.

  “What happened?”

  “I said I don’t want to talk about it. It was hell, but we lived to tell the tale.”

  “But you’re not telling the tale.”

  “Meh, it’s depressing. How about some music?” She reaches for the radio, and on instinct, I bat her hand away.

  “Don’t. You’re going to mess up all the stations.”

  “Jeez, you’re one of those guys, huh?” Daisy smirks.

  “What guys?”

  “The guys whose cars are an extension of their penises.”

  I chuckle. Who knew junkie Daisy was funny? “Baby, don’t be talking about my penis unless you want it to come out and play.”

  “Oh my God. I just barfed in my mouth.”

  “Whatever. So, what radio station do you like?”

  “How about The Freaks?”

  “That’s a Norm station, right?”

  “Well, it’s run by Fringes, but yeah, they play songs from Norm artists.”

  I use the voice-activated control to find the station. An unfamiliar pop song fills the interior of the car.

  “I love this song!” Daisy proclaims, then begins to bob her head in sync with the melody.

  Traffic is heavy at this time of the day, so I can’t take my eyes off the road too much to stare at her. But every time I do, my dick twitches in my pants. When I take the exit to my parents’ neighborhood, my temporary good mood evaporates. I also don’t have to worry about a hard-on. Nothing good survives when I approach my father’s domain.

  Despite the Westbrook mansion being inside a high-security gated community, my father deemed it necessary to install another checkpoint to his property. My car is equipped with the remote control to the wrought iron gates, so with the push of a button, they open.

  “Wow. Your house is pretty badass,” Daisy says in awe.

  “It’s not my house,” I reply harshly.

  The modern mansion is a masterpiece in architecture and has been featured several times in lifestyle magazines. It’s all about angles, cleans lines, and lots of glass.

  I park the car right in front of the stairs leading to the front door on the second level, then pause a moment.

  “Phoenix? Are you all right?”

  “I just a need a minute.” I take deep breaths, steeling myself to deal with my father. I always get sick to my stomach when I have to see him face-to-face.

  Daisy covers my hand with hers and squeezes. I turn to meet her eyes, which are rounder and no longer red. “Whatever demons you’re battling, you’ll be okay.”

  I never wanted to kiss a girl as badly as I want to kiss her now. I’m actually on the verge of breaking the distance between us and crushing my lips to hers, but I sense a third presence not far from us. With difficulty, I peel my gaze off Daisy’s face and look ahead. My mother is standing on the ledge, looking down on us.

  “We’ve been spotted. We’d better get going.” I open the door and slide out of the car.

  I walk around the front of the SUV and meet Daisy halfway. I’m an asshole, but I won’t let Daisy walk into the lion’s den without protection.

  I grab her hand and lace our fingers together. I sense a slight tension from her and a question in her gaze.

  “My mother probably thinks you’re my girlfriend. It’ll be easier if we let her believe that.”

  “Why?” Daisy whispers.

  “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  21

  Daisy

  My head is still fuzzy, and there are crazy butterflies in my stomach. I’m pretty sure those were awakened by Phoenix. But when he laces his hand with mine, a zing of pleasure shoots up my arm, heightening all my current emotions.

  Overwhelmed by my reaction to him, I float up the flight of stairs and only come back to Earth when a throat clearing ahead draws my attention. A gorgeous blonde woman is staring at me as if I’m an alien. Her green eyes are narrowed to slits, her lips pinched in a thin flat line.

  “Phoenix, I didn’t know you were bringing a guest,” she says in a cold voice.

  Yikes. I’m sensing major hostile vibes from her.

  “It was a last-minute thing. I didn’t know if Daisy could make it. She’s a very dedicated student,” Phoenix replies in a smooth voice that sends tingles down my spine. He’s not even addressing me. I can’t imagine how my body will react when he does.

  The woman gives me a once-over that clearly says she finds me lacking. Whatever. I don’t really care about what she thinks about me. In reality, I’m not even annoyed that she’s been so rude.

  “Well, I suppose I can ask the maid to put an extra plate on the table.” She turns on her high heels and strides back into the house.

  “Your mother is a bit uptight, huh?” I say.

  “You have no idea. Are you ready?”

  I sense Phoenix’s stare, so I turn to meet his gaze. “If you had asked me any other day, I’d say forget about it. Not today though. So yeah, I’m ready.”

  Phoenix’s lips curl into a lopsided grin. “What did you take before I found you?”

  “What do you mean? I didn’t take anything.”

  “Daisy….” He trails off while staring meaningfully at me.

  “Phoenix,” I mimic his tone.

  With a shake of his head, he laughs. “Fine. Don’t tell me. This evening ought to be interesting.”

  We finally follow Phoenix’s mother into the house. The modern theme from outside continues seamlessly into the front foyer. The first thing that strikes me is Phoenix’s parents’ obsession with white. My eyes hurt from the brightness.

  “Damn, what do your parents have against color?” I ask.

  Phoenix chuckles.

  A man in a pristine dark suit appears to greet us. “Mr. Westbrook. Hors d’oeuvres have been served in the patio area.”

  “Thanks, Vargas.”

  “You have a butler?” I ask.

  The man in question makes a sourpuss expression as if he just sucked on a lemon.

  “My parents have a butler,” Phoenix replies.

  We follow Vargas to the outside area just in time to catch a gorgeous sunset. Phoenix’s mother is speaking in hushed tones with a woman in uniform before turning her attention to us.

  “Where’s Father?” Phoenix’s asks.

  “In his office. He’ll join us shortly.”

  Phoenix heads for the wet bar and pours himself a double dose of whiskey. He drinks the full glass in large gulps before he refills it. All the while, his mother is watching him with a disapproving expression on her marble-statue face.

  “So we’re starting early,” she says, to which Phoenix doesn’t reply.

  With a clicking of her tongue, she turns to me. “Would you like something to drink, Daisy?”

  “No, thank you.”

  A sliver of dread runs down my spine, and the small hairs on my neck stand on end. A powerful Idol just stepped foot on the patio. Phoenix and his mother stand stiffly, both looking over my shoulder. I turn around and come face-to-face with a tall and imposing man dressed to the nines in a sharp s
uit and tie. There’s absolutely no resemblance between him and Phoenix, but I know without a shred of doubt that the man staring daggers in my direction is Phoenix’s father.

  “What the hell is this Norm doing here?” he growls.

  Suddenly, Phoenix is next to me and wrapping his arm around my waist. I don’t know how he moved so fast from the other side of the patio, but I’m glad he did. Even in my current easy-breezy state, I still feel the wrath of his father.

  “Daisy is my date for the evening,” Phoenix replies.

  “How dare you bring a filthy Norm to my house?”

  I flinch and tense on the spot. Phoenix’s hold on me tightens.

  “You’d better treat my girlfriend with more respect,” he hisses.

  What is he doing? His father is about to blow a fuse.

  “Your girlfriend?” The man’s glower switches to a point behind us—his wife is my guess. “Leticia, did you know about this?”

  “Of course not.”

  “I don’t know what kind of idiotic games you’re playing, boy, but Westbrooks don’t date Norms. We don’t even fuck them.”

  Okay, this is seriously pissing me off, and he’s totally killing my buzz. I open my mouth to tell him what I think about his race when Phoenix speaks.

  “Well, this Westbrook does. It’s high time I break away from your disgusting traditions. Come on, Daisy. We’re out of here.” He begins to guide me toward the front of the house.

  “Don’t you dare walk away from me, boy,” his father shouts.

  “Watch me.”

  A high shrieking noise pierces my eardrums. I cover my ears with my hands and wonder what the hell is going on. Phoenix pushes me forward and says, “Run, Daisy.”

  He doesn’t need to say it twice. I bolt toward the front door, but sensing Phoenix didn’t follow me, I halt and whirl around in time to see all the window panels explode into shards of glass. Phoenix is standing with his feet wide apart, arms tense by his sides. The pieces of broken glass never touch him, stopping midair as if there’s an invisible shield in front of him.

  A hand on my shoulder makes me jump on the spot. It’s Vargas, the butler. “You need to leave, miss. Now.”

  “I can’t go without Phoenix.”

  As if I summoned him with my words, Phoenix appears next to me. Without a word, he steers me out the door and to his car. Only when we’re inside his vehicle and out of his parents’ property do I dare to speak.

  “What the hell was that?”

  “My father showing how pissed off he was.”

  “Did you know that was going to happen when you decided to bring me over?”

  Phoenix doesn’t reply for several beats. His jaw is tense, and I see a muscle twitch.

  “You did, didn’t you?” I continue. “I can’t believe you used me to provoke your old man.” I cross my arms and look out the window.

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I just couldn’t face dinner with the man alone.”

  “I’m glad to be at your service,” I spit back.

  My stomach decides to grumble just then, loud as fuck. I’m starving all of a sudden.

  “I truly am sorry. I didn’t think he was going to use his powers against us.”

  “What was that, anyway?”

  “My father can control sound, among other things.”

  “Yikes. He almost made me deaf.” I rub my right tragus.

  “That was his intention. Again, I’m so sorry. Let me make it up to you. What do you fancy eating?”

  I hug my middle. It feels like I haven’t eaten in days. “I’m really in the mood for the greasiest cheeseburger you can find.”

  “Man, I could eat several. I know just the spot.”

  Phoenix drives us to the beach, and involuntarily, my body becomes as stiff as a board. It’s too soon since my almost-drowning incident. I don’t say anything though. The spot he was referring to is a food truck that, by the sheer volume of people waiting their turn, must serve pretty amazing food.

  “Stay here,” he tells me. “I’ll be right back.”

  Instead of getting in line, he heads to the back of the truck, disappearing from view. I don’t have a phone, and Phoenix forgot to turn on the radio. Remembering how he prevented me from touching the controls, I don’t even try. Pissing off one Idol is enough for today.

  After five minutes or so, Phoenix returns carrying several brown paper bags. When he enters the car, the delicious smell of burgers and french fries fills my nose, making my mouth water. With greedy hands, I reach for one of the bags. A moan escapes my lips when I take a deep whiff of my dinner.

  Phoenix groans.

  “What?” I look at him. He’s watching me with hooded eyes.

  “Please don’t make that sound, Daisy, unless you want me to attack your mouth.”

  Heat spreads through my cheeks, and I avert my gaze. “Control yourself and eat your food.”

  “So bossy.”

  I’m halfway into my ginormous meal when Phoenix makes a disgruntled sound in the back of his throat. Thinking that he’s again making lewd noises, I glower at him. But he’s not looking at me, and his face is twisted into a grimace. He’s also holding his right wrist tightly.

  “Phoenix? What’s the matter?”

  “My punishment,” he grits out.

  “Your punishment?” My eyes widen when a glowing light comes from his wrist. Without a second thought, I reach for it.

  “No, Daisy. Don’t touch me.” Phoenix pulls away, but he’s not fast enough for me. Another alarming detail.

  I push the hand covering his wrist away and stare at the glowing tattoo. “What is this?”

  “It’s… his mark.” Phoenix throws his head back on the headrest with eyes closed.

  On an impulse, I cover his tattoo with my hand. A zap of energy goes up my arm at the same time Phoenix jolts in his seat.

  “Daisy? What are you doing?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Slowly, the glow diminishes until it’s gone. Sensing Phoenix’s stare, I lift my eyes to meet his.

  “How did you do that?” he asks, staring at me oddly.

  “I didn’t do anything besides touch you.”

  He doesn’t break the connection, and a strange energy is exchanged between us. My heart is beating madly inside of my chest, and I’m all too aware of Phoenix’s presence. It’s like he’s everywhere. My mouth goes dry, and I find myself at a loss for words. He inches closer, his eyes once again filled with desire. He’s going to kiss me, and I don’t have it in me to stop him.

  He humiliated me, tortured me, and yet I’m still on the verge of succumbing to the crazy sexual tension between us.

  But the sound of his phone ringing breaks the charged moment and also serves as a wake-up call. I pull away.

  He looks ahead, rubbing his face. Then he glances at his phone on the storage compartment between our seats. It’s a call from Bryce. My mood plummets completely.

  Finally, Phoenix reaches for the device and presses the green button. “What’s up, Bryce?”

  “Is Daisy with you?” I hear his question loud and clear. He sounds agitated.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Is she okay?”

  Phoenix glances at me, eyebrows furrowed. “She seems okay. What’s going on?”

  The sound gets muffled then, and I can’t make out Bryce’s answer, but whatever he said makes Phoenix widen his eyes. “Daisy, what did you take before I found you?”

  “I already told you. I didn’t take anything.”

  Phoenix reaches over and opens the glove compartment. He pulls out a clear vial. Still on the phone, he says, “Bryce, I’m going to have to call you back.”

  He tosses the phone away and opens the vial in his hand. He extends his arm, placing the vial close enough to my nose so I can smell its contents.

  “Is this scent familiar to you?”

  I only need to take one whiff of the clear liquid to trigger my memories.

  “That’s Silver
-voltage,” I whisper, thanks to the huge lump lodged in my throat. “Drusilla and Renata forced me to take it.”

  Fury and fear mix in Phoenix’s gaze. He throws his half-eaten burger aside and puts his car in Drive.

  “Motherfucker. I’m going to kill those bitches,” he says through clenched teeth.

  He peels his car out of the parking lot like he’s running away from the devil.

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “To get you help.”

  I nibble on my lower lip while I fight the growing desperation in my chest. It’s been at least a couple of hours since I encountered those nasty Idols.

  “Shouldn’t I be dead by now?” I murmur.

  “Yes, Daisy. You should.”

  22

  Bryce

  I’ve been staring at Daisy’s father’s diary for an indefinite amount of my time, trying to figure out what to do about it and her. There hasn’t been a moment when she hasn’t plagued my mind. And the more I think about her, the more I agree with Morpheus’s assessment. It wasn’t the diary that made me shun her. It was his vision and what it meant.

  Loud whistling from the kitchen distracts me from my turbulent thoughts. The only person prone to busting out tunes is Phoenix, but he’s out. Curious, I head out of my room and find Morpheus is the one responsible for the music. In all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never heard him make any sound besides derisive ones.

  Rufio walks out of his room as well, wearing nothing but boxer shorts and holding a towel in his hand. He stares at Morpheus with his mouth agape.

  “Who are you, and what have you done with Morpheus?” he asks.

  Morpheus stops whistling and stares at us. “What?”

  “You’re in a good mood,” I say.

  Morpheus widens his eyes slightly, looking hella guilty. The question is, guilty about what?

  “Is that a crime?” he asks.

  “No, but it’s weird as fuck. Keep the volume down.” Rufio returns to his room.

  “Don’t worry, I’m heading out.” Morpheus grabs a bag of chips from the cupboard and a couple beer cans.

  “Where are you going?” I ask.