by J Bree
“Joey.” she whispers, “He’s been telling Senior a load of crap about Ash and now Father is sending all sorts of lovely messages to Ash. He’s under so much pressure from them both, I’m really worried.”
I swing my legs out of bed and pad quietly over to sit on her bed so we don’t wake Ash. “Is your dad…like Joey?” I ask hesitantly. We haven’t covered this with our truths yet. Avery sighs and nods.
Great.
I scrub a hand over my face and then I smile at her. “We’ll add that to the list of things we need to sort out then.”
Avery scoffs as I head into the bathroom. “There’s no sorting Senior out, Lips. There’s only surviving him.”
I had always thought that about the Jackal too. But I have some ideas and plans in the pipeline. Now I have the desire to get us out of this mess alive and relatively unscathed. All of us, even Ash. He might be an asshole to me right now but he loves his sister and, before Joey fucked things up, we’d been close to being…friends? On friendly terms at the very least.
I shower and dress for the day. When I walk back into the kitchen to grab a coffee and some fruit for breakfast Ash is gone and Avery is still in her bed on her phone. I have no idea who she would even call in to help with this. I sit on my bed to face her.
“When you’re ready, we should talk about your father. I can’t help if I don’t have the full scope of the problem,” I say, trying to sound gentle. I don’t know if I succeed.
Avery looks up and her eyes are wet. It’s the closest to crying I’ve ever seen her and I panic a little. Avery Beaumont doesn’t cry. Just like Lips Anderson doesn’t do girl talk. It’s fucking weird.
She clears her throat. “I don’t see how you can help. On the surface, Senior is a well-respected businessman. He was born filthy rich and will die that way. He has three beloved children he’s raised on his own since his beautiful wife died under tragic circumstances. He’s on the board for multiple charities and he’s a highly sought after bachelor.”
She stops and takes a deep breath. “His legitimate businesses are all a front for the illegal ones. He has a lot of say on what happens in politics, there are senators that answer to him, and he makes sure that legislation that helps his business and crushes others is pushed through. He enjoys hurting women and beat my mother every day when she was alive. He’s in a gentleman’s club and they bet on awful, depraved things I can’t speak about.”
I nod and blow out a breath as I think. “He knows Joey kills people for fun and he covers for him. He knows he’s hurting Ash, too. He knows Joey killed you and he covered for him then as well. I’m guessing Joey is his favorite?”
Avery drops her phone.
Fuck.
I forgot we hadn’t talked about any of that. The Jackal had given me that information when I was trying to sort Joey out after he’d attacked another student.
“How-how did you know that?” Avery whispers. She looks beyond shocked, haunted, and terrified.
I grimace. Not a good way to prove I’m trustworthy. “Last year I did some digging into your family. I was trying to figure out how much of a danger Joey really was. I should have told you, I’m sorry.”
Avery stares at me, her face unblinking, and I start to really think I’ve fucked up. She recovers and swoops down to grab her phone. “Ash will lose his mind if he finds out you know.”
Typical Avery, always protecting her brother first. I speak carefully, measuring my words, “I found all of this out last year when you were trying to get me to drop out. If I wanted to spread it, I would’ve done it then.”
Avery nods, then whispers, “We haven’t even told Harley or Blaise. Ash doesn’t want anyone to know.”
Holy fuck.
I start to chew my nails, a habit I’ve kicked but unless I can find some whiskey it’ll have to do. “I’ll take it to my grave, Avery. I swear to you, I will never tell a soul. But I need more information so we can get you both out of there.” She nods reluctantly and I go on, “Why doesn’t Ash stop him? He’s bigger and he wins all of his fights in the boys dorms.”
Avery traces the stitching in her pillow with one of her long, manicured fingers as she refuses to meet my eye. “It’s because of me. Joey told him he’d kill me if he fights back. The summer before freshman year Ash lost his temper with him and punched him back. Broke his jaw with one punch. That night Joey strangled me. Ash had to call Harley to get us and get me to the hospital.”
“How did you explain it to Harley?”
“Ash told him what had happened. He just didn’t tell him it’s been going on for years.”
I decide then and there that I’m going to stop being shit at girl talk and learn how to do this whole best friend thing properly. I get up and hug Avery.
She startles, because she knows just how hug-adverse I am, but she hugs me back tightly. I hook my chin onto her shoulder and say, “There are a few things I can do. Let me help you.”
She nods.
I’m going to have to take out both Joseph Beaumonts one way or another.
911. Coffee. Ballet.
Right. I’m not sure why bringing a coffee to Avery at her ballet class is being considered an emergency but I’m scrambling to do it anyway. I’m still pretty jittery after our long conversation about her fucked up father and my mind immediately goes into overdrive. I’m picturing Joey attacking her or an assassin, maybe a kidnapping.
Is our room bugged?
I need to do a full intensive search the second I can. I’d been studying in my pajamas so I had to throw a sweater over my Vanth shirt while the coffee machine worked its magic.
I dodge curious looks and leering seniors as I sprint to the dance gym, my hand steady on the reusable, glass coffee cup Avery had personalized with ‘Dictator in Power’ after I’d told her about my sniping with Harley about our history class last year. I can’t look at it without bursting out laughing.
Someday, when I tell her who I am, I want one with a wolf on it. Two very different, but very deadly, predators.
When I make it to the gym I expect to find a crowd or a dead body or something and instead Avery is sitting on the bench by the doors scowling at her phone. I slump down next to her and hand her the coffee.
“Harlow Roqueford is a dirty, pathetic bitch who needs a reality check. She’s going on my planner for next week. You in?”
On her planner. That’s Avery’s way of saying she’s going to start a campaign. Currently, we have Joey, Rory, Lance, and Annabelle on her planner and I feel like we’re getting nowhere with all of them. Well, why the fuck not?
I lean back and say, “Definitely. What do you want me to do?”
“How about you take your dirty, trash self back to where you belong? In the slums.”
Great. I look up to see the woman of the hour standing over us with her hands on her hips. She was wearing a sports bra and leggings that are so tight I could see not only her lack of underwear but also the fact that she has a landing strip. Pass the bleach, I want to die.
Avery’s eyes drop thirty degrees in temperature and she becomes a marble statue, cold, and hard. “Harlow, if you’re going to speak to us can you please put on some underwear? I can see your gaping vagina trailing down your thighs from here.”
Sweet merciful lord, I nearly choke.
Harlow doesn’t flinch. She flicks her hair over her shoulder and shrugs at Avery. “You think you’re untouchable because you’re a Beaumont, well guess what? Your own brother wants you dead.”
I roll my eyes and Avery chuckles, her voice as sweet and kind as shards of broken glass. “I am well aware of Joey’s thoughts on me. I do live with him, you know.”
Harlow’s eyes flick to me. “You call in your little guard dog? How much are you paying the trash to watch your back?”
Avery takes a long sip of her coffee. Long enough that Harlow begins to twitch. She wants Avery’s full attention. She wants to scare her and knock her off of the top of the social ladder.
She’s s
o stupid.
“Are you trying to win Joey’s affection by attacking me? Because that would make you brain dead and pathetic. Joey doesn’t have affections, he just wants to get high and fuck as many different girls as he can. You’ll never keep him. It baffles me to think of a reason why you would want to keep him.” The door to the dance rooms opens and students pour out. We get a few curious looks and Jessie gives me a shy wave. I smile at her.
Harlow’s mouth slides into a smug, over-the-top smirk that makes her look deranged and simple. “He’s rich, hot, and he has a huge dick. What more could a girl want?”
I gag. I can’t help it, it happens before I can lock it down. Avery pats me gently on the back like it’s totally normal and her mouth quirks upwards.
Annabelle steps up besides Harlow and I tense. She’s wearing a pale pink leotard and tights, her legs look like they go on forever. I can see the appeal. “Well, Harlow. If I gave a damn about you in any way I would tell you I think you’ve picked the wrong Beaumont brother on all of those accounts.”
Avery sighs. We share a look as Harlow scoffs and turns on Annabelle, “Why pick the boy when you can have the man?”
Annabelle laughs right in her face. I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole and now I’m stuck in Wonderland watching two evil queens battle it out. It’s surreal and highly entertaining.
“Oh, Harlow. Joey has to ask Senior for everything; Ash doesn’t. Joey is a tweaking, sinewy mess with his little habit; Ash isn’t. And I know for a fact that Ash has a good three inches on his brother.”
I’m kind of horrified at myself but I’m stuck between being jealous and curious at what Annabelle is saying. I also feel a nervous giggle starting in my chest and I need to shut that shit right down. Avery has scrunched her nose up in disgust. Right, talk of your brothers’ dicks must be gross. Poor Aves.
“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, Easy A?”
Annabelle shakes her head at Harlow with a smile. “Sweetheart, I have seen more photos of you on a dick than any other girl at this school. Don’t mistake which one of us is the whore.”
I stand up and tug Avery to her feet. This is getting monotonous and I don’t want to hear anything else about Ash’s sex life. Or the other two. Avery slips her arm into mine and we head back to our room. When we stop so Avery can unlock our door Annabelle calls out to us. Avery scoffs and rolls her eyes. I’m tempted to ignore her but she’s on Avery’s planner and we might be able to use whatever she’s here about to destroy her.
I meet her eye and give her a curt nod.
Avery ignores her completely in favor of heating up some of the weird soup with kale and fish she’s currently obsessed with. I pull a face at the smell and grab a tub of ice cream out to soften. Annabelle looks around curiously. It occurs to me that Avery never lets anyone but the boys into the room.
“Where did Blaise sleep when he was here?” says Annabelle, eyeing my bed like it carries diseases. I snort at her and Avery laughs.
“Summers, he slept wherever the hell he wanted to like he always does. What’s it to you, anyway?”
Annabelle crosses her arms and looks down her nose at me. “I’m here to ask you two to stop interfering in my relationships. It’s none of your business who I’m dating.”
I grab a spoon and share a look with Avery. She’s got her phone out and she’s got someone on the line but Annabelle can’t see it from where she’s standing. “What my family does is very much my business and I’m not having an illegitimate child born to some gold digging, teenage girl who wants to spread her legs and spend someone else’s money.”
Annabelle sighs and rubs her arms. She doesn’t look like the pretty, confident girl I’d first seen with Blaise. She’s tired, angry, and desperate.
“Whatever. Let me have Blaise. His parents like me because I don’t encourage his stupid music and he’s not your family. Get the Mounty bitch to stop tutoring him and I’ll leave Harley and Ash alone.”
Avery tuts at her. “I thought you loved Harley? Didn’t you tell him that?”
“I do but my family are going under, as you well know, and I don’t want to end up on the streets. If he had access to his inheritance then I’d be fighting for him. I can’t wait around while he figures out how to get the money back.”
I shove a huge spoonful of ice cream into my mouth so I don’t cuss the bitch out. There are a thousand good reasons to pick a guy. I can think of plenty of reasons why I would pick Blaise, Harley, or Ash, even while they hated me. But picking one over the other because of money is disgusting. Saying Harley isn’t a worthy choice makes me sick.
Avery sets down her soup and glides past Annabelle to open the door for her, a clear dismissal. When Annabelle doesn’t move Avery gives her a predatory smile.
“I don’t make promises to anyone but my family. Get out of my room and just remember who you’re speaking to.”
When the door is locked behind Annabelle and Avery is back sitting with her soup I arch an eyebrow at her.
“Ash, Harley and Blaise are all my family. You’re my family. That’s it. I’ll be damned if that bitch touches any of them again.”
Chapter Seven
I spend all day on Saturday trying to get in front with my classwork. Avery spends the day with Ash and Harley in Haven and she surprises me with a gorgeous pair of boots. They’re black leather, soft as a baby’s butt, with chains and studs. The top of the boot has a tiny sheath that I can keep my knife in. I’m speechless and amazed. She laughs at me and brushes off my thanks. I refuse to look up how much they cost and I tell her to stop spending money on me which only makes her laugh harder.
We eat the sushi she’s brought home and then I get back to work while she jumps into the shower to start her nighttime routine. She takes forever.
The knock at the door startles me out of my studying. I sigh, frustrated at the distraction, and fling open the door to find Blaise propped up on the doorframe with a lazy smirk. I grit my teeth and attempt a smile.
“Avery is in the shower. You're welcome to hang out on the couch until she's out.”
The smirk grows wider and way too cocky for my liking. “I'm here for you, Mounty.”
I let my eyes take him in, every detail from head to toe. He’s wearing a pair of dark gray, fitted jeans with a band tee. I know the band, Malice Unfolding, but I’m surprised he does too. His smirk grows wider but then I give him one back and say, “No thanks.”
He is so shocked at my dismissal that he barely manages to stop me from shutting the door in his face. “Mounty, for fuck’s sake. Hear me out. Please.” Urgh. It's the please that gets me. I’m also curious to see if this is about Annabelle’s appearance here the night before.
I let him push the door open again and give him an expectant look.
“Right.” Blaise stops and clears his throat. I already know I’m going to hate whatever comes out of his mouth next. It’s either going to be insulting or endearing and I don’t want to deal with either of those things. “I’ve made another deal with my dad. If I graduate senior year with a 3.0 GPA or higher, he’s going to let me take a gap year without pitching a fit. I want to fit in a world tour and a new album. I also want to use that time to convince my parents that college isn’t for me.”
I sigh and motion him into the room. Avery is still in the shower and the coffee machine starts beeping to say the sweet, sweet nectar of the gods is ready to be consumed in bucket-like quantities to get me through an all-nighter. I head towards the machine. “You didn’t need to come here, I already tutor you. We can go through all of your syllabi and get a plan together on how we’re going to make it work.”
I pour myself a cup and then, after hesitating for a second, I pour one for Blaise too. I know exactly how he takes his coffee but there’s no torture method on the planet that would get me to admit that so I slide the sugar and creamer to him.
“Lance is taking up too much of your time. Ash would back off and let you work with me in peace but the littl
e Mounty fuck wouldn’t.”
I cut him a look. Fuck knows why I’m defending Lance, probably the venom in Blaise’s voice as he spits out Mounty. I’m waiting for him to say something about the pickup at the docks and the dirty money I had with me.
He grimaces under my stare and then speaks carefully, “I don’t want Lance to know how much trouble I have with my classes. He’s an arrogant asshole and I’d rather not have to beat the shit out of him if he runs his mouth. If Avery finds out, it’ll be the next Mounty hunt.”
Is Blaise fucking Morrison, lead singer and guitarist of Vanth Falling, rock god and literal idol of my heart, embarrassed? Fuck me, that’s worse than an insult or sweetness. I’m doomed to pander to his every fucking whim.
I scrub a hand over my face and try to look stern, to hide just how whipped I am for this guy who still thinks I’m trash.
Look, I’m not saying I’m going to fall at his feet. I have self-respect and I’m perfectly aware of just how much he loathes me.
But the fleeting pink tinge to his cheeks and the way he’s chewing on his lip is enough to make me jump through some academic hoops with him. Sue me. Plus, he’s not actually dumb. He’s really smart but he doesn’t process information the same way as the other students do so the teachers just assume he’s slacking off. Now I’ve figured him out, I’ve cut his study time in half, which is why he insists on it being me who helps him. Fuck.
I hold up three fingers and his eyes light up, goddammit. “Three rules.”
He nods.
“One: you’ll come to every study session on time and with the agreed work done before. If I’m going to put in the time and effort you will too. I don’t care if it’s wrong and we have to redo it, you have to give everything a go.”
“Agreed. Next?”
“Rule two: you’ll show me respect while we study. We can do it here, Avery has ballet and dance most nights so we can pick a few nights a week and we’ll be left to it but I’m not having you get pissy and tearing into me for no reason. Save that for the dining hall or parties or some shit.”
