King of Hawthorne Prep

by Jennifer Sucevic

  “What happened with our families will always stand between us. The difference is that I’ve lived with it my entire life and you’ve only become aware of it.”

  “It doesn’t have to be like this between us.” Why doesn’t he see that?

  “But it is.” A strange concoction of stubbornness and acceptance settle over his features. “You can’t change history.”

  “You’re right, we can’t change it. But the present and future don’t have to be dictated by it.” The need to touch him, to form the same tentative connection we shared at the beach, thrums through me. Before I can think better of it, I reach out, my hand feathering over his. “We can shape it into something different, something better.”

  His brows slide together as he contemplates my words. It’s almost as if I can see the possibilities spinning in his head. I blink and the arrogant mask he usually wears crumbles. For the first time, he looks more like the guy I met in Door County. The one who was so easy to fall for.

  I’m tempted to tunnel my fingers through his short hair. Instead, I tighten my hand and resist the urge. These past weeks have taught me to be cautious and watchful around Kingsley. In many ways, he’s like an unpredictable animal. Affable one minute and lethal the next.

  He tilts his head and narrows his eyes. “How?”

  Surprised by his willingness to consider my idea, I shake my head and squeeze his hand. “I don’t know, but there has to be a way. We just need time to figure it out.”

  When his gaze slides away, I release the pent-up breath from my lungs.

  “I’m not sure if there’s enough time for that,” he mutters, darkness overtaking his expression as every bit of light is swallowed up.

  “Why wouldn’t there be?” I force out a laugh and rise from the bench before extending my hand for him to take.

  He considers me for a long moment before wrapping his larger one around mine and straightening to his full height. As gravel crunches beneath my shoe, he tugs me toward him. A puff of air falls from my lips as I stumble into his hard body. My palms go to his chest to regain my balance as his hands cup the sides of my head. When his fingers splay wide around my scalp, I stare up at him and realize how easily he could crush my skull with his strength. Storm clouds churn in his gaze before his lips crash onto mine. Unlike earlier, there is no tenderness and I find that I don’t want it.

  Even though we’re at the edge of the parking lot and out in the open, it’s all too easy to lose myself in the kiss. It’s only when Kingsley pulls away, resting his forehead against mine, that I become aware of the world surrounding us.

  “You make me wish that everything could be different.” His harsh breath drifts across my lips. “That you weren’t a Hawthorne, and I wasn’t a Rothchild.”

  Something indescribable explodes in my chest. “Isn’t it possible for us to be Summer and Kingsley?”

  “I don’t know.” When he steps away, the urge to pull him back pulses through me. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

  I nod.

  The moment is shattered by the sharp screech of tires sliding over pavement. We twist our heads as an SUV skids to a halt in the Dairy Barn parking lot, spitting up gravel in its wake.

  Once the dust settles, my stomach drops to the bottom of my toes as Austin slams out of the G-wagon and stalks toward us. Even from this distance, his green eyes flash with rage.

  “Oh shit,” I whisper as fear pools inside me.

  There’s no way this will end well.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “What the fuck, Summer!” Austin barks, his hands clench as he stalks closer. My brother has never scared me, but in this moment, his towering fury does.

  The two girls loitering at the Dairy Barn window swing around and gape as they watch the scene unfold from a safe distance. Kingsley turns toward the oncoming threat and squares up. The last thing I need is a fight breaking out between them. Austin can’t afford any more trouble.

  In the blink of an eye, my twin eats up the distance between us with long-legged strides. When he pulls his arm back, I leap between the two, pressing my palms against my brother’s chest. It takes all of my strength to knock him back a few steps.

  “What the fuck are you doing with him?” Austin growls, not taking his gaze off the other boy.

  I gulp as my mind races, trying to come up with a plausible explanation that will diffuse the situation. “Kingsley drove me home from school and we stopped for ice cream.”

  Austin’s gaze flickers to mine. “I thought you were sick.”

  “I felt better, so I went to school for the afternoon.”

  “Why didn’t you drive yourself?” he shoots back suspiciously.

  I don’t know how to answer that question.

  Before I can blurt out another lie, Kingsley interjects, “I stopped at home to pick something up at lunch and saw that she was leaving, so I offered her a ride.”

  Austin glowers before shoving me behind his body. “Why would you do that? Aren’t you the same asshole who had his fucking hand wrapped around her throat last week?” His voice grows steely as he steps forward. “Maybe she’s forgotten about that, but I haven’t.”

  I peek around Austin’s arm, trying to gauge Kingsley’s reaction, but his gaze becomes shuttered.

  The memory invades my brain and I swallow thickly. It’s almost as if I can feel the unrelenting pressure of his fingers pressing against my windpipe, closing off airflow. Bruises had decorated my skin for days. Makeup had been necessary to camouflage the marks from my parents and while at school.

  “It’s not that deep, bro,” cruelty flickers in Kingsley’s bottomless depths as he smirks, “don’t make more out of it than what it is.”

  The carelessness of his words cut me with the precision of a scalpel. Whatever fragile bond had been reestablished between us is once again destroyed. It makes me question everything. Maybe I was right the first time, and it was all a giant mindfuck. Not only did I allow him to touch my body, I let him create havoc inside my head.

  I’m such an idiot.

  How many times do I need to get burned before I learn my lesson? Kingsley is not to be trusted. No matter how much he resembles the boy from the beach, they aren’t the same guy. That boy doesn’t exist.

  The smirking son of a bitch standing before me is the real Kingsley Rothchild. I can’t allow myself to ever forget that. Nausea rushes through me. My fingernails bite into my brother’s bare arm to pull his attention back to me. I need to escape Kingsley’s insufferable presence before I become physically ill.

  “Please,” I whisper, “take me home.”

  As if hearing the pain riddled through my words, Austin’s concerned gaze flickers to mine. Not wanting to make eye contact with Kingsley, I keep my attention focused on my brother. Stifling waves of tension blanket the atmosphere, making it impossible to breathe. Any moment and I’ll start gasping for air.

  “Go wait in the car, Summer,” he mutters from the corner of his mouth as his gaze shifts to Kingsley.

  “Come with me.” If I walk away, the situation will only escalate. Clearly, I can’t read Kingsley, but I know my brother. He’s spoiling for a fight. And one way or another, he’ll find what he’s looking for.

  “Go,” he snaps when I don’t budge from behind him. “Rothchild and I need to have a little chat.”

  My shoulders slump under the heavy weight of the situation. Even though I refuse to glance in Kingsley’s direction, the heat of his gaze drills into me.

  “Please,” I moisten my lips, “don’t do anything stupid.” We both know it’s a warning that will go unheeded.

  It’s only after I’ve slid onto the passenger seat of the Mercedes that my attention is drawn back to the boys. A shudder slides through me as I cringe, holding my breath. Austin has already advanced on the dark-haired boy and is shoving him in the chest. A low rumble of words is exchanged but I’m too far away to hear them. It’s better that way. Anything that comes out of Kingsley’s mouth will be speci
fically designed to inflict pain. I can only hope he doesn’t throw our agreement in Austin’s face.

  It was a mistake to walk away and leave them together. I knew Austin would lose his temper. He’s been simmering for weeks. Actually, he’s been a powder keg since we found out about the move. The start of school, the hazing, and the subsequent suspension have driven him to the tipping point. It was only a matter of time before he exploded.

  But still, I can’t allow him to make the situation worse.

  As I grip the door handle, Austin yanks back his arm and punches Kingsley in the face. The movement is so swift that the vehicle door is barely open and already it’s over. My hands rise to my mouth as Kingsley staggers back a step before flying forward as the two grapple.

  I scream and rush toward them, my shoes sliding over the gravel. By the time I reach the pair, they’ve already splintered apart and are pacing warily around each other. Neither spare me a look as I grab Austin’s arm and haul him toward the G-wagon.

  “Stop it!” I snap. “Both of you!”

  Kingsley glares at my brother before lifting his hand to his nose and swiping at the blood beneath it. Bright red splatters dot his white shirt. He jerks his head back, and a chilling menace fills his eyes.

  “Stay the fuck away from my sister!” Austin roars in the now silent parking lot.

  A slow smirk curves Kingsley’s lips and I mentally prepare myself for the nastiness that will follow. “Can’t make any promises, bro. She’s a hot piece of ass.”

  When Austin lunges for the second time, I scramble in front of him, shoving my weight against his body. It’s like trying to move a brick wall.

  “Let’s go!” I wrap both hands around his arm and tug. “Now!”

  His feet move, and he allows me to drag him away from Kingsley. The more distance I put between them, the more relieved I am. With one final glare, Austin swings around and slides into the SUV. I flinch when he slams the door closed before pounding his fists against the steering wheel.

  In silence, I bite my lip and stare out the windshield as Austin guns the engine, squealing out of the Dairy Barn parking lot and onto the main road before fishtailing across the pavement. I grab the oh-shit bar above the door and glance at him with wide eyes. His jaw remains clenched as his gaze stays pinned to the stretch of road in front of him.

  “What the fuck were you really doing with Rothchild?” he growls. “Because I don’t believe that BS story you tried to feed me earlier.”

  “Language,” I murmur, needing to diffuse the explosive situation.

  He glares and presses his lips together before muttering, “How about you stop being a funny fuck and answer the question.”

  I wince. There’s no way I can divulge the bargain I struck with Kingsley. Austin would turn this SUV around and pummel the shit out of him. The only choice I have is to cover the lie with more lies and hope that the truth never gets dragged into the light.

  “It’s like he said,” I murmur. “He came home for lunch and saw that I was leaving for school. Then he offered me a ride home. We stopped in town for an ice cream cone. End of story.”

  I’m struck by the realization that it really is the end of the story. I can’t do this anymore with Kingsley. I can’t get wrapped up in his games.

  My brother’s eyes narrow as he considers everything I’ve divulged. “Why would he do that?”

  “How should I know?” I jerk my shoulders before turning away and leaning my forehead against the glass. Misery floods through me, nearly swallowing me whole, as I stare at the greenery along the side of the road. The town of Hawthorne gets left behind in the rearview mirror.

  “Why the hell would you agree to go anywhere with that jackass after he tried hurting you?”

  Even though I keep my gaze trained out the window, his stare probes me for details I have no intention of revealing. There has always been a powerful bond between us. Since we moved here, I’ve been keeping secrets. As much as the guilt gnaws at me, it’s better for all of us if Austin never discovers the truth.

  “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” I mumble, feeling heartsick. “It won’t happen again.”

  That, at least, isn’t a lie.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The following Monday, Austin returns to Hawthorne Prep and everything goes back to the way it was before his suspension. Sloane shoots me triumphant looks every chance she gets all the while clinging to Kingsley like a barnacle.

  And Kingsley?

  He ignores me in class and in the halls. He doesn’t make me wear the shirt, force me to eat lunch with him, or sneak into my room at night. I should be thrilled that his interest has become ensnared by someone else.

  Instead, a deep sense of sadness fills me.

  How’s that for fucked up?

  No longer are we harassed. It’s more like we don’t exist, which is fine with me. Even though Austin remains tightlipped about football practice, he doesn’t come home with anymore bruises, blackened eyes, or bloodied noses.

  I can’t shake the strange energy that hovers over us like a heavy cloud, making it feel like the calm before an impending storm. With every new day that slides by, my anxiety rachets up a couple hundred notches. Any moment, I’ll come out of my skin.

  After fourth hour, while everyone heads to lunch, I slip inside the bathroom and shutter myself in a stall. As my finger hovers over the button to flush the toilet, the bathroom door swings open and a couple of girls stroll in, their heels clicking against the penny round tile floor.

  I’m not sure what makes me hesitate.

  “God, I hate that bitch.”

  Sloane.

  I would recognize her voice anywhere. There’s something about her tone that makes me wonder if I’m the one being talked about. This place has made me paranoid.

  “At least Kingsley isn’t hanging on her anymore,” someone chirps.

  “He was never hanging on her,” Sloane snaps in a haughty tone. “He was fucking with her. There’s a difference.”

  My shoulders sink with the realization that I’m not so paranoid after all. They are talking about me.

  One of them snorts. “I’ll just bet he was.”

  “Shut the hell up, Aubrey! Do you honestly think Kingsley would be interested in that ugly ass Hawthorne girl when he could have me?”

  Ugly ass?

  Ouch.

  “Have you ever looked at her non-existent chest? There are zero boobs to speak of. It’s all flat.” A smirk fills her voice. “And Kingsley is most definitely a breast guy. He can’t get enough of mine.”

  The thought of Kingsley touching Sloane the same way he touched me has nausea churning in the pit of my belly. I lay a hand over my lower abdomen to stymie the discomfort. Why can’t these girls leave me the hell alone? I’m not a threat to them. I want nothing to do with Kingsley or them.

  “In fact, he stopped by last night,” she says with a giggle. “That boy is such a freak in the sheets.”

  My throat closes until breathing becomes impossible.

  Another girl laughs. “Please, slut, you love every minute of his kink.”

  “Damn right I do,” she agrees smugly.

  Someone pipes up with, “I heard she gave him a BJ.”

  Is that idle gossip or did Kingsley brag about what we did together? A tiny piece of me clinging to the hope that the true Kingsley was the one from the beach and not the asshole from Hawthorne Prep crumbles and dies. Deep down I knew the truth but refused to admit it. Even to myself.

  Especially to myself.

  Now I have no other choice but to accept it.

  A few girls rattle off sexual acts I supposedly engaged in. Not only with Kingsley, but several other boys. I’ve been here a little over two weeks and from the sound of it, I’ve really gotten around. It’s like they’re going out of their way to top the last sexual act mentioned with something more outrageous. All I can say is that these bitches get an F for creativity.

  For fuck’s sake, if you’
re going to claim I did something, at least make it interesting.

  Fed up with the lies pouring from their mouths, I stab the button on the wall to flush the toilet. If they won’t leave, then I will. The moment water rushes down the drain, all of the laughter and chatter comes to an abrupt halt.

  There’s no turning back now.

  I suck in a breath, square my shoulders, and paste a pleasant smile on my face before unlatching the lock. All eyes are focused on the stall when the door swings open and I step out.

  As soon as Sloane sees me, she scowls. “Well, well, well, speak of the ho.”

  I force out a laugh. “Oh sweetheart, don’t worry, you’ll always be the frontrunner in that competition.”

  Sloane’s eyes narrow as she advances on me. “You’re jealous that Kingsley is back where he belongs and isn’t slumming it with Hawthorne trash.”

  “Hmmm.” I scrunch my nose and give her a thoughtful look. “What does that say about you for not being able to hold his interest in the first place?”

  She sucks in a sharp breath as her hands tighten. “Why don’t you do us all a favor and shut your mouth before I make your life a living hell.”

  “It’s much too late for that. My parents already beat you to the punch by moving us to this backwoods town filled with a bunch of inbred hicks.” I clear my throat and give her a pointed look.

  “Who are you calling a hick?” she growls.

  “I’m sorry, was I not clear?” There’s a pause before I force out the rest. “I’m calling you a backwoods hick.”

  With a screech of outrage, she lunges. It’s almost a surprise when her body slams into mine. I stagger a few steps and my back hits the bathroom stall. Her fingers tangle through my thick hair, scraping against the scalp before giving it a vicious yank. Tears sting my eyes as I yelp, trying to peel her hands away, but it’s no use. She’s stronger than she looks.

  “I hate you!” she shrieks.

  We struggle as screams and grunts echo off the walls of the confined space. When she slams me against a tile wall, the air gets knocked from my lungs. All I know is that one moment she’s trying to pull my hair out by the roots and the next, she’s being dragged away. My breath comes out in short sharp pants as my heart thumps painfully against my chest.