Delinquent (Academy of Misfits Book 1)

by Bea Paige

  “And yet Monk’s still a part of your crew. He’s still gunning for me, despite everything. At least Ford had the courage to cut Red and Bram from his crew for what they did…” I breathe heavily, shaking with anger. “And fucking with my art? What have you just done, if not that? A tag is sacred. You know that better than anyone.” I push against Camden’s chest, forcing him backwards against the wall I’ve rubbed clean. He doesn’t try to stop me. When his back hits the brick, I do something really fucking stupid, I press my body flush against his. Despite everything, my skin heats immediately, just the same as the spot on my face where he’d been touching me.

  “I don’t have a choice about any of this.”

  I bark out another hysterical laugh. “You’re their leader. You have a damn choice even when they don’t.”

  “You don’t fucking get it,” he retorts, both anger and regret lighting his topaz eyes. “It’s not as simple as that. Not for me.”

  “Then explain it to me.”

  He presses his eyes shut, nostrils flaring. “I can’t,” he rushes out.

  “I thought you were the leader of the gang? I thought you held all the fucking strings,” I mock him, repeating the words he said to me all those weeks ago. “What fucking gives, Camden?”

  “We’re all owned, Asia. Including me.”

  There’s a truth to his words and a part of me wants to delve deeper, to offer him the opportunity to open up and tell me what he meant by that. A bigger, angrier part wants to chew him out. That part wins.

  “I don’t fucking care! You took my best friend from me and you’ve destroyed a family. Tracy needs Eastern, Braydon needs him. You fucking ruined them, then you tried to ruin me with this bullshit tag because your jealous of my friendship with Ford.” My nostrils flare, my hands reaching for his top as I scrunch up the material in my fists. Just like before, we are both caught in the moment. Neither of us backing down. Neither of us winning. This feeling I have inside expands and grows. I hate him, yet why do I suddenly want his lips on mine? Why? “Haven’t you done enough?” I whisper.

  One beat.

  Two.

  Three.

  Four…

  Our eyes meet, his gaze is just as ferocious as mine. We’ve been here before, he and I.

  “It’s enough,” he concedes, his arm wrapping around me now, pulling me tighter against him. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  “You admit responsibility?”

  “I admit that I’ve not been the man I know I should be. I admit that it kills me to watch that prick Monk get away with what he’s done and that I can’t do more. I admit my poor imitation of your tag was a low fucking blow. I admit that my jealousy is making me insane…” He breathes out heavily. “I admit that I can’t do a thing to change any of it.”

  I’m panting hard, my breath coming thick and heavy. My body trembles with the anger, from the feeling of his body flush against mine and his arm wrapped firmly around my back.

  “But it won’t stop…” I say, knowing it to be true.

  “I don’t want any of this, Asia,” he sighs, not confirming or denying my point. Regardless, his response surprises me. So much so it takes me a while to respond.

  “I can’t forgive you. You could’ve made a dozen different choices but your actions, or lack of them, have shown me who you truly are. Just because you didn’t give Monk the go ahead to chase me down like some rabbit and screw with the one possession I own that’s truly mine, doesn’t mean you’re not responsible for them just as much as he is.”

  “It’s complicated, Asia.”

  “That’s not fucking good enough!” I shake my head, not willing to listen to any more crap.

  “Asia…” he starts, then slams his mouth shut.

  “Say it, Camden!”

  He grits his jaw. I can see his internal struggle. “He has something on me,” he finally admits.

  “Who, Monk?”

  Camden closes down, refusing to answer, but there is fear in his eyes that is undeniably real. What’s going on here? What’s he hiding? Or is this just another game he’s playing to fuck with my head?

  “How do I know that this isn’t more bullshit? Just another way for you to get inside my head and screw with me, just like you screwed with Eastern.”

  “You don’t.”

  “No fucking kidding. You were willing to let Monk have me if I lost the fight… You’d sell me out in an instant given half the chance. That much I do know.”

  “You’re wrong. I knew you wouldn’t lose.”

  “How? How could you possibly know that.”

  “Ford. I might dislike the fucker, but he knows how to fight. He taught you well. I also knew you wouldn’t let Monk win. I see a lot of myself in you. You’re a survivor and you protect the ones you love.”

  “Don’t make me laugh, you don’t belong to anyone, remember? I’m nothing like you,” I spit, pushing away from him, disgusted that he’d even think we are similar in any way. I try to break free, but he grabs hold of my upper arms.

  “You don’t belong to anyone either, Asia, but that doesn’t stop you from protecting the ones you care about. Trust me, we’re alike,” he insists, holding me as tightly as I’m holding onto him. I hadn’t even noticed that my hands had found his chest once more.

  “I belong to Eastern,” I admit, knowing in that moment it’s the truth. “He’s my best friend. I love him. I tried to protect him. You could’ve asked someone else to do that job. You could’ve let him go.”

  “I know.” Camden lifts his hands and rests them on my shoulders. “And now I’m giving him back… It’s all I can do.”

  “What? What are you saying?” I ask, confused. “That’s not fucking funny, Camden.”

  “Carmichael needs to see you. I suggest you go and find out why.” He pulls himself upright, straightening his spine. With one last broken look, he pushes past me. I watch him walk away. After a few steps he pauses, then turns to face me.

  “If you’re smart, Asia, you’ll make the right choice.” With that he walks away and disappears around the side of the building leaving me wondering what the hell he meant by that.

  Turning on my heel, I run to Mr Carmichael’s office hoping to God this isn’t another one of Camden’s games but knowing in my heart that it’s probably going to be the start of many.

  35

  I hear talking from behind his closed door when I get to Mr Carmichael’s office. The voices are low, muffled. Pressing my ear against the wood I try to listen but even then I can’t make out what they’re saying. Without even bothering to knock I open the door roughly. It slams against the wall.

  Half a second later my heart crashes inside my chest, trying its best to break free from my ribcage.

  “Eastern…?”

  I have to blink a few times just to make sure I’m not hallucinating. When I’m certain that he’s here, I rush forward ignoring the fact that Mr Carmichael and Mr Burnside are both watching me intently.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” I breathe out, as he stands holding his arms open. I run into them without hesitation, holding him against me tightly. His familiar smell of smoke and apples fills my senses as I breathe him in. “Eastern,” I mutter curling my fingers into his top.

  “Hey, Alicia,” he murmurs. His voice is hoarse, full of emotion that I can’t even begin to unravel right now.

  “It’s Asia, arsehole,” I choke out, swallowing the sob behind a strangled chuckle. Easing back, I look up at his face, at his brown eyes flecked with amber. They’re different, harrowed. I know instantly that shit went down at juvie, but now is neither the time nor the place to find out what.

  “It’s so good to see you, Eastern,” I say, and I really, truly mean it even though I don’t understand why he’s here.

  “It’s good to see you too.” He steps back then, easing me out of his hold before sitting down. I stare at him, frowning. What’s going on? Only then do I notice another man standing in the corner of the room. H
e’s looking at me with interest.

  “What’s happening here?” I ask Eastern, looking between him and the guy I don’t recognise.

  “Sit down, Asia,” the man says.

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” I retort automatically, drawing a raised eyebrow from him.

  “Please,” Mr Carmichael adds.

  “Asia, do as he says,” Eastern insists. The look on his face has my arse plonking on the seat.

  “Why is Eastern here? Is he starting Oceanside too?”

  “That depends,” Mr Carmichael says, drawing up a chair beside me.

  “On what?” I look at him suspiciously.

  “On whether you and Eastern agree to some terms,” the unnamed man adds.

  Eastern’s face pales. I know him, I know that something fucked-up is about to go down. I narrow my eyes, folding my arms across my chest. “What terms?”

  “I’m Chief Inspector Crown,” the man says, introducing himself properly.

  “And?”

  “And your friend here is in deep shit right now,” he says, pulling no punches.

  “Talk about stating the obvious,” I retort sarcastically.

  “He’s looking at a long sentence, Asia. A sentence that could mean time in both juvie and adult prison once he hits eighteen. Drug running of Class B drugs is a serious criminal offense,” Chief Inspector Crown continues without batting an eyelid at my sarcasm. “Eastern is looking at fourteen years in prison…” He lets that statement hang in the air for a moment so that we can all digest it. “But his sentence could be lessened to a stay at Oceanside on one condition and one condition only…”

  “And what’s that?” I don’t trust this fucker, and I certainly don’t trust the look on Eastern’s face.

  “It’s simple. We need intel on the drug supplier, the real kingpin to the outfit Eastern has been drawn into. We want to take him down and obtaining information about the gang Eastern is now a member of is the start of that. So far, he’s refusing to talk.”

  Shit. I glance at Eastern but he’s refusing to look at me. “Well, that’s easy…” I begin. Eastern’s head snaps up.

  “Don’t, Asia. Don’t,” he warns.

  “This is your life, Eastern. You’ve been given a second chance to live it. Don’t do this to your mum, to Braydon, to me,” I beg.

  “Eastern,” Mr Burnside interrupts. “We don’t know each other and you’ve no reason to listen to a word I have to say, but I will tell you this… Over the past couple of months, I’ve got to know Asia pretty well. She tries very hard to hide the fact that she cares about people, but she does. She’s made friends here despite her instinct to push people away. Do you honestly think she’ll want to see you in prison for fourteen years of your life? Do you think, given what appears to be a very strong bond, that she’ll survive all that time without you?” Mr Burnside asks. He’s using his therapist voice to try and get Eastern to talk, but like me, Eastern doesn’t buy it.

  “You’re right there, mate,” Eastern snaps. “You don’t know a thing about me or my relationship with Asia. I know how much she’ll hate seeing me in prison, but it doesn’t change a thing. I won’t talk. Not know, not ever. I did the crime. I’m guilty. It’s all on me.” He looks at me then, pain in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Asia,” he whispers.

  The thing is, he and I both know he did it for his mum, for Braydon. He might not have made the right choice, but he did it to help them. Inside I’m screaming at the unfairness of it all.

  “Why bring him here? Why dangle the carrot when you know Eastern isn’t going to change his mind?” I bite out, feeling both incredibly sad and angry all at the same time.

  “We were hoping that you’d help us with that,” Chief Inspector Crown says. “You could save your friend from a seriously long time in prison.”

  Fuck. Fuck.

  Eastern glares at Crown, his eyes narrowing. I watch as his fingers curl around the seat rests. I know my best friend and I know that he’s about to lose his shit. If he rips into Crown now I know that this offer will be taken away in an instant. “Give us a moment?” I ask, looking between the three adults in the room. “I need to have a conversation with Eastern.”

  “Five minutes. I suggest you make this good,” Chief Inspector Crown says, before leaving the room.

  “You too,” I say to Mr Carmichael and Mr Burnside. “This is between us. Can you give us this at least?”

  “Think about this very, very carefully,” Mr Carmichael says looking at me and Eastern both. If I didn’t know any better, he seems conflicted as though he’s not happy with what’s going down here today. “I understand what’s at stake,” he says, looking between us both, “but I also know how the system works. How it works on the street. I get it. Don’t do anything unless you understand how both your lives, and those of the ones you love, will change.”

  I know what he’s trying to say. I know what agreeing to Chief Inspector Crown’s terms will mean for us, for Tracy and Braydon too. The repercussions are huge. We’re not playing games here.

  “We get it,” I say. Once they both leave, pulling the door closed behind them to give us some privacy, I turn to Eastern. “You have to do this. You have to talk.”

  “No.” He shakes his head, gritting his jaw and getting that determined, stubborn look I know so well.

  “Listen, you heard what Chief Inspector Crown said. They’re going to put you away for a long time, Eastern. I don’t want that for you. Your mum and Braydon need you…”

  Eastern glares at me. “And what about you, Asia? Do you need me?”

  I swallow hard.

  “Even now, you can’t admit it, can you?”

  “This isn’t about me, Eastern. This is about you, about your family.”

  “You’re my family. Fuck, don’t you know how I feel about you? Do I need to spell it out to you?”

  “Eastern, don’t…” My heart squeezes with pain, with… love. I love him like a friend, I always have. But I do know that if given the chance it could develop into so much more. Seeing him here today, knowing what’s at stake makes me realise that. Why is life so fucking cruel?

  “Bollocks to it,” he grunts, standing. “I’m going to say this because it might be the only chance I get.” Eastern grabs my hands then pulls me upright. “You’re stubborn, pig-headed, determined and so fucking strong, Asia. I don’t know any other person who’s been through what you have and survived it.”

  “Eastern, stop,” I whisper. But he doesn’t stop, and my heart fucking breaks.

  “You make me laugh, and my shit days are more bearable when you’re by my side. You’re talented and feisty and fucking insanely beautiful even with all the colour.” He smiles then, a genuine, heart-warming smile that turns me inside out. “You’re my best friend, and ever since we kissed. No,” he says, shaking his head. “Before we kissed I knew I loved you and it’s because I love you, love mum and Braydon that I will not put you all in danger to get me out of prison. I refuse.

  “Eastern, I don’t know what to say…” I mumble, feeling helpless for the first time in a very long time.

  “I’m about to go to prison for fourteen years. Maybe, for once, you could tell me how you really feel?” He rests his hands on my shoulders, his thumbs stroking against my collarbone. “Think of it as my final wish…”

  “You’re not dying, Eastern,” I choke out, even though this feels much the same.

  “I may as well be. When I’m out of prison I’ll be fucking thirty and you’ll be married with kids, some famous street artist as rich as Banksy.”

  “That isn’t going to be your future, Eastern, and it won’t be mine either. You’re going to do as Crown says and you’re going to tell him what he wants to know to save yourself.”

  “No, Asia! This shit I’m a part of goes way beyond Camden and Hackney’s Hackers. They’re just small-time criminals caught in a web of grown-up gangsters. The guy behind this outfit is not to be messed with. He owns half of fucking London. He’s the man th
ey’re after. They call him the King and we are all his fucking servants. He’s the latest ruler in a long line of them.” He shakes his head, turning his back to me, but I scoot around him forcing him to look at me.

  “I don’t care who the fuck he is. You are going to tell Crown what he wants to know because you love your mum and Braydon, because you love me… You’re going to do it, because I love you like a friend,” he flinches at that, hurt chasing across his features. “And a promise of so much more,” I add gently, my heart squeezing inside my chest.

  “You mean…?” His eyes flash with surprise, then hope, then fear. Eastern drops his head, his shoulders go slack. “Fuck, Asia. Why didn’t I listen to you? It could’ve been so different. This is all my fault. I let you down. I let everyone down,” he mumbles, swiping at his eyes. Like me, Eastern rarely cries, he’s always so strong. Not this time.

  Gently I cup his face in my hands, wiping at his tears with the pads of my thumbs. “Look at me,” I say. He lifts his head and for a moment I just look into his eyes. “This is going to be okay. We are going to be okay.”

  He shakes his head. “You can’t know that. Nothing is ever okay for the likes of us.”

  “If you can’t trust that, then trust me… Please?”

  I can see him mentally pulling away, shutting down and building barriers to protect his heart and those of the ones he loves, and I can’t let him. I won’t. Making a decision, I do what I should’ve done a long time ago, I let him in.

  I act.

  Leaning in, I press my lips against his, curling my hands in his hair and tugging him closer. A small sound of surprise releases from his lips, before he opens his mouth to my searching tongue. He tastes of home, of years and years of friendship and laughter. He tastes of the first tendrils of real, life-changing love. Moulding myself in his arms, our kiss bonds us, draws us closer, stitching us together and reshaping us into something more, something everlasting, something powerful. Yearning and want, desire and hope, bleed between us, forging us together. Though I’m scared, I know this is right. We belong to each other.