by Angel Lawson
The first thing I see is the blinking lights. Then the silver embellishments and all the red and green. I make a face. “Wow.”
“Right? They’re awful.”
Rochelle and Morgan had the idea to turn our party into a tacky-Christmas sweater party. I genuinely had no idea what this was until they showed me photos on the internet. This is the kind of shit privileged people do for fun.
“My grandmother had a full collection,” Rochelle says, tossing me, Morgan, and Stella a sweater. Mine has a snowman on it and bells attached. Morgan’s a reindeer with actual blinking lights on the ears. Stella lucked out with just basic snowflakes.
“Want to swap?” I ask her.
“You wish.”
A tap on the door interrupts us and Morgan opens it. Trip stands on the other side with look of horror on his face. “I thought you knew the dress code for my party tomorrow was sexy Santa. This is an abomination. It simply won’t do.”
Rochelle and I share a glance.
“About that,” I say, “I think the girls are just going to hang out here tomorrow night.”
He laughs. “Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious. We’re going to have our own Christmas party, with a white elephant, whatever that means, and dumb sweaters and eggnog and all that rich white people stuff. But by all means, have fun at yours.”
I can see him doing the math in his head. He needs us there to consume his drugs and alcohol, to blackmail into sex. He needs to control us. He needs girls. This simple act of defiance throws off his entire system.
“Eden, you and I had a deal.” He’s referring to the K-Boys.
“That deal was broken in the reference room of the library.”
His pretty eyes narrow and his jaw sets. He looks at Rochelle. “I’ll expect you there by eight in the outfit I sent you.”
There’s a tremble in her hands, but her chin lifts. “I’m not going. I’m hanging with the girls.”
My heart both swells with pride and pounds with fear. He looks between us. The glare he gives me makes it clear that he thinks I’m to blame. The one he gives her is filled with loathing.
“Do I need to call my cousin?” he says to Rochelle.
She shrugs. “Go ahead. I don’t care.”
He laughs, the smile turning his lips mean and angry. “So, this is the game you’re playing? Did you pull that shit with the test, too?”
Rochelle frowns. “What are you talking about? I just want you to leave me alone, Trip. Enough is enough. Go find a girl that actually wants to suck your crooked dick.”
Stella slaps a hand over her mouth and Morgan barely withholds a snort. My eyes are wide with shock that Rochelle actually went there.
It’s not Rochelle that he turns his venom on. It’s me.
“You’re the one with the most to lose here, Eden. Remember that.”
He turns and walks out of the room, but not before I see the darkness in his eyes. There’s no doubt we’ve poked the viper’s nest and there will be hell to pay. I look at my roommate and see the tremor run down her spine.
“I can’t believe I did that.”
“You’re brave and we’ve got your back. He can’t hurt us. The boys will have our back.”
She nods and the other girls hop up, each giving her a hug of support. I lean against the back of the chair and consider what I’d just done. Hawk said I’d have to make a sacrifice to get my sister back. Looks like she was the one that was sacrificed instead.
The text from Dorian comes about an hour later. I tell the girls I need to run down to the lounge, leaving them to finish off pizza and talking plans for the party.
Dorian waits for me at the bottom of the stairs in jeans and that same soft leather jacket. His eyes soften when he sees me but there’s something tense about the way he stands.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Trip sent the guys on an errand and Hawk wanted me to check in on you. Everything okay?”
Is it? Is everything okay? Hell if I know.
My hesitation is enough for him to say, “Talk to me, Eden. I know you guys are keeping stuff from me. Let me help.”
I take a deep breath, knowing it’s time to let him in on what’s really going on and how deep Trip’s business really is. I look around and make sure no one is around. “Do you know somewhere we can go, where no one can find us?”
He thinks for moment and nods. “Yeah, I do.”
I’ve never been on this side of campus, past the library. There’s a two-story, brick row of housing. Dorian takes the key out of his pocket and lets us in one of the doors. Inside, he flips on the light and I’m relieved to get out of the cold.
“What is this?” I ask, getting my bearings.
“This is where I live.”
I blink, taking it in. I’d known he’d lived on campus, I’d just been so busy with school and all the non-stop drama I never thought about exactly where. A set of stairs leads to the second floor, a long hallway down to what looks like a small living area. A kitchen is off the main hall. It’s clean. Cozy. And smells like the rich, appealing scent that follows Dorian around.
“Let me make some tea.”
“Tea?” The K-Boys would howl if they knew he was now a snobby tea drinker. He understands my reaction and shrugs.
“I like tea.”
I follow him into the kitchen. It’s sparse but seems to have all the necessary items. He places the kettle on the stove and lights the gas.
“Tell me what’s going on,” he says, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest. “Everything.”
The time waiting for boiling water is long enough for me to give Dorian a rundown on everything that’s happened over the last month. I keep portions to myself—personal things like the night with Gray or the brief kiss with Theo. I do tell him about sneaking off campus and going to the party at Trip’s house. I tell him about taking the drug to prove our trust and how it made Hawk and I lose our inhibitions. I tell him about the drugs in the basement of the cabin, the cheating, the blackmail, and Rochelle finally standing up to Luke and Trip.
“You’re making a difference here,” he says, taking two mugs out of the cabinet.
“I’m not sure about that.”
“I am,” he says, placing tea bags in the cups. He moves slowly, methodically, and I can’t stop watching his hands. “The four of you being here provides some well-needed balance in a very skewed system.”
“The drugs, tests, and other contraband are in the basement. There’s a whole drawer of pornography and anything they need to blackmail students and, I assume, staff.” I move next to him and lean my hip against the counter. “Trip wants to expand this beyond Sparrowood. He’s already infiltrating some other boarding schools and colleges. His brother Tyson creates the drugs, then Trip uses students to sell them, other students to document and blackmail everyone into submission. It’s a disturbing and well-oiled machine.”
“Yet he trusted you.”
I laugh. “He has a blind spot for the K-Boys and I suspect he wanted to keep his enemies close.”
“I don’t think he did this to get close to the K-Boys, Eden. He did this to get close to you.” It’s dark but the moon is high and bright. Dorian’s face looks even more striking shadowed. That same tension that follows us ebbs and flows. I remind myself that he’s an adult. An authority figure, but slowly, increasingly, I just don’t care.
“Trip doesn’t want me like that,” I tell him. “It’s about power and control. He has something I want and he’s just waiting for me to cave. I’m just another object to possess. To manipulate.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He knows my biggest weakness.” Dorian looks at me, still confused. I’m forced to admit it out loud. “Hope. He knows where she is, and he’s made it clear what price he has in mind. I’ve said no, and I mean it. I’m not for sale. Hope wouldn’t want it, and I…” I don’t know how to express myself. How to tell him what I need.
&
nbsp; “Are you afraid of him?”
“Physically? No. I think he’s too egotistical to force me to do anything. He’d rather play mind games and get me to bend to his will. He wants to break me like I’m afraid he broke her."
“You’re strong, Eden. Powerful. It scares him.” He holds my eye. “You intimidate most men.”
“What about you?” I ask, knowing it’s dangerous territory.
He rakes his hand through his hair. “You’re a whole other level of dangerous for me.”
He pours the water into the cups, steam swirling in the air. He hands me mine and walks out of the kitchen and into the living room. I follow, heart pounding, knees quaking. Did he just call me dangerous?
I sit next to him on the leather couch, leaving a wide distance. Warming my fingers on the cup, I say, “I’ve fought against guys like Trip for a long time. The predators and abusers. My friends all fell one by one. My best friend, Shelby, she sells herself. Other girls work in the clubs. My mother’s boyfriends, they tried to take from me, and I always fought back. I never gave in.”
“It must have been hard always feeling like you had to watch your back.”
I look down at my lap. “I want to do it on my own terms.”
“Do?”
I look up and catch his eye; the instant it connects, his pupils darken. A heavy, awkward silence hangs over the two of us.
“I would be more confident dealing with guys like Trip if I wasn’t so scared about my own lack of experience.”
“I thought you were with,” he coughs, “the guys.”
“It’s for show,” I admit. “Mostly. Part of the game.”
His eyebrow raises. “You’re telling me none of you have taken it further than games?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know there’s a hierarchy among the guys.”
“You haven’t had sex with Hawk, so you can’t have sex with any of them.”
He said it. The unspoken parameter.
There’s a reason Gray has only gone so far, mostly kissing and touching. Using his mouth not his cock. But Hawk isn’t the leader I’m talking about. I continue to hold Dorian’s gaze but scoot a little closer. “All those years in Kingston, I held off. I pushed back on the K-Boys, the pimps, and the Brats. I fought the perverts and sex traders. Then I came here, and I fought Luke and Trip.” I reach for his hand that’s resting on the couch. It’s warm and strong, just like I expected. “I’m tired of fighting for the one thing that belongs to me and me alone. I’m ready and if it’s going to be anyone, it should be someone from Kingston.”
He swallows. “Eden…”
“Something is happening between me and the K-Boys. Something I can’t quite explain, but it won’t happen without you.”
I move quickly, straddling his lap. It’s unlike me. Foreign. Desperate. Crazy. I feel him beneath me and I grind down, letting him know I’m serious. His eyes dart to my lips, my breasts, then back up again.
“Eden you’re beautiful, strong, and fiercely independent. You’re brave and you’ve taken on more bullies and assholes than any one person should have to in a lifetime. And I know you aren’t done. That this is just the beginning.”
“That’s a lot of compliments for what feels like a massive rejection,” I say, fighting back the tears welling in my eyes.
He touches my cheek. “You’re sexy, so damn sexy, and me and you? It’s against the law. It’s against every single ethical belief I have. I’d just be another person taking advantage of you.”
“Not when I’m the one that wants it!” God. I sound like a child.
His thumb catches a tear of embarrassment that falls down my cheek. “I’m not a K-Boy anymore, Eden. I’m not their leader and I’m not a kid. Even then, don’t give yourself away to someone you don’t love and truly trust. You don’t need that to gain confidence to shut down Trip. You’ve already got it in spades.”
I’m not sure he’s right, but I do take what’s left of my brittle self-esteem and climb off his lap and stand. It’s time for me to get out of here, bury myself in a bag of candy, and pretend this never happened.
To his credit, he doesn’t apologize as I walk out the door. To my credit, I don’t shed another tear, just letting the cool air dry the tears off my cheeks.
“Ro? You here?” I enter the dorm carrying six bags of candy from the vending machine.
“She went out for a few minutes.”
I swing my head to the left and see Trip sprawled on the couch. I’m way too exhausted to deal with this little prick tonight.
“Get the fuck out of my room, Trip.”
He simply smiles, stretches his arms over his head and lounges further, spreading his knees apart.
“You know what’s funny?” he asks, not really wanting a response. “You thought you could come in my world and change how things work. A pathetic, poor, street kid thought that she could come in here and tell me how things should work in my world and suffer no consequences.”
His tone is smug. Mean. His eyes predatory.
I am absolutely too fucking tired to care.
“You had my cousin kicked out. His girlfriend shamed. You pretended to befriend me to get close to my business in an effort to take me down.” He laughs. “That’s right. I know what you’ve been up to. I know Gray is the one that turned in Mitch for selling the test. I even know that you’ve got your own little person holed up in the administration offering you protection while you attempt to wipe out my enterprise.”
I open my mouth to speak but snap it shut. He could be bluffing about Dorian. It’s a logical guess.
“You even started up some bullshit self-defense, empowerment class to give the females here the guts to stand up to me.” He leans forward. “You don’t get it, Eden, this is my playground and you’re all my playthings. Rochelle, Denise, Morgan. Even those tools, Phillip and Adam. They get me and give me what I want, or I expose them for who they really are. Pathetic, embarrassing losers.”
“You have nothing on me to expose,” I say, feeling the rage bubble under the surface.
“I may have nothing on you sweetheart, but you think I don’t have what it takes to bring down your precious little boyfriends?”
That stops me cold, but I swallow and shake it off. “They had a record before they came in here, and you and I both know they don’t give a shit about your social games.”
He holds my eye and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a shiny silver object that glimmers in the light. It takes me a minute to place that it’s the ring Gray gave me to wear at Thanksgiving. It should be in the upstairs bedroom. “What do you think the administration, or the police, will think about Mathers stealing this antique ring?”
I know for a fact Gray returned the ring and dress.
“I’ve never seen that before in my life.”
He holds up his phone. The screen shows a video. Fear rolls in my belly that it’s from the bedroom but instead the footage shows the dining room downstairs and the five of us eating Thanksgiving dinner. The sound is muffled but I have no doubt our conversation had been recorded.
“Nice dress,” he says. “I wonder what the historical society would say about you wearing it.”
I bite back nausea. “You filmed us?”
“This is my domain, Eden. I know what every person in this building is doing, especially when they’re conspiring against me.”
“You’re deranged.”
“No,” he says, voice hard, “I’m thorough and very good at my job.”
He looks at the phone again, scrolling through, occasionally raising an eyebrow at something. “Gray is easy and frankly, sending him back to jail won’t be much of a change. He can be a thief here or a thief there. It’s too bad though. He could have been an asset.” He frowns down at the screen and then shows it to me. It’s a photo of Theo standing in the hallway. “Your boy Theo is the weakest link. One little hit of my best stuff and he falls off the edge. I think you and I both know he won’t survive another backslide.”
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“He’s clean.”
He winks. “For now.”
My fists ball at my sides. “What do you want?”
He grins and eyes me lazily. His hand lingers over his thigh and he shifts, spreading his legs a bit wider. “I’ve told you from the beginning what I want. I want you to understand your place here. I want you on your knees. I want to hear my name roll off your tongue right before you take me in.”
“Shut your goddam filthy mouth.”
He grins, all teeth, and continues, “I want to hear you moan, groan. I want to hear your best whore cry.” He holds my eye. “Most of all, I want you to pretend you like it.”
“Fuck you.”
He laughs. “Indeed.”
With a shaking hand, I open the door that leads to the hallway.
“Get. Out.”
He slowly stands, taking his time. “You have until noon to make a decision. After that I’ll be getting ready for my party. Don’t test me.”
He skims his hand over my lower back before walking out the door. I slam it after him, wanting to set the building on fire.
Exhausted, I walk back to my room, curl up on my bed and wonder how the hell I get out of this.
33
Eden
“I’m heading down for breakfast, you want to come?”
Rochelle stands in my doorway the next morning. Well, late morning. It’s eleven. The clock is ticking.
“I’m not hungry.”
She frowns. “Are you okay?”
I’m wrapped in my blanket, like I’ve been since last night. I slept. I think. My mind won’t stop running. Looking for an out. A way to solve this. How do I protect the boys and not give Trip what he wants?
“Ro?”
“Yeah?” She lingers in the doorway.
“When Luke, you know, made you do that stuff, did it make you mad? How did you make yourself do it?”
She leans against the frame. “When I first got here, he showed me that he had evidence of my social media history. The shitty things I’d done to other people. The lies and fake accounts. I wanted a fresh start and he told me he’d tell the whole school about my past. I decided what he wanted me to do was worth his secrecy.”
