Tainted Rose: A High School Bully Romance (Rosehaven Academy Book 2)

by Leila James

  “I’ve never felt like this in my life. I thought—” I try to breathe calmly, but tears well up in my eyes. Fuck. I thought I was done freaking out about it, but the concerned looks on my friends’ faces has me upset all over again.

  Max’s hand gently rubs my back. “Breathe.”

  I nod and squeeze my eyes shut for a few moments. When I open them, I quickly exhale. “I never saw it coming. I liked him—a lot.”

  “And he liked you, too. I don’t buy for a minute that it was all a lie.” Daphne crosses her arms, shaking her head.

  “Me neither. That dude was so gone for you. He didn’t always show his true feelings in front of his friends, but the minute he wasn’t being watched, he’d go all soft. Like he was trying to maintain his image, but then they’d take off and he’d melt into a puddle for you. That day when he was trying to apologize at the end of English class is a prime example. I saw that with my own two eyes. That wasn’t fake. No fucking way.”

  I hiccup through a small sob as I try to control my rising emotions. “Or maybe he’s really fucking good at manipulating people. Because that’s what it feels like—I’ve been manipulated to serve his sick purposes, whatever those may be.” My voice gets a little shrill, my insecurities raging. I’m sure they’re both trying to decide whether I’m about to really lose it.

  Max lets out a big sigh, eyeing me carefully. “Did anything else happen? I mean, between the sex and the dumping?”

  I start to shake my head, but then stop abruptly. “I guess we did talk for a while. I told him I thought his mom, who I’d met earlier, must be a very strong woman to get out of a bad marriage. He told me a little bit about the status of his relationship with his dad and Justin.” I shrug. “I thought I was getting to know him better. I had no idea he was about to pull the plug on being together.”

  Daphne’s brows pinch. “That’s it? Nothing else?”

  I press my lips together, thinking back. “The text messages. I showed him those and asked if the number was Aria’s.”

  “And was it?” asks Daphne.

  “He said no. I don’t know what to believe. It could still be her. She does seem hell-bent on screwing with me.”

  “I really don’t see why any of what you said would result in a ‘Get the fuck out.’” Max takes a big bite of his cookie. “Even if he’s really sensitive about his family or Aria, why not just, ‘I’d prefer not to discuss that’?”

  “Right?” I shrug, pulling some bottles of water from the refrigerator. “Anyway …” After handing off the water to Daphne and Max, I grab the container of cookies because I have a feeling we’re going to need them to fuel our hunt. “Maybe if we find the yearbooks, we can at least look for some sort of clue as to why Mr. or Ms. Unknown Number won’t leave me alone. Check this out.” I pull my phone out of my pocket—the phone that Xander bought for me—and swipe to open my text messages before handing it to Max.

  Unknown number: If you dig, you’ll find what’s buried.

  “The fuck?” Max makes a disgusted face at my phone and holds it out for Daphne to see.

  I wet my lips, taking the phone back from him. “I mean, I figured when they asked about the scholarship and my dad that it was related. My gut says that they’re not-so-subtly telling me that whoever my father is, he’s paying for me to go to Rosehaven.”

  “It’s like someone has an odd fascination with you finding out the truth. What purpose would that even serve anyone?” Daphne chews on the inside of her mouth, considering.

  “Yeah, I don’t get it.” Max throws his hands up in the air. “Except—here’s an idea out of left field—could it be your father texting you?”

  “Well, shit. I hadn’t thought of that.” I ponder for a few seconds. “The texter said I was clueless, which seems really mean. And I can’t figure why he’d out himself after all this time. I really don’t think it’s him. I’ll keep it in mind, though.” I press my lips tightly together, trying not to let this get to me. “The yearbooks will be a good start.”

  Max quickly agrees, “You’re right. Let’s get to it. Are you up to it?”

  “I’m fine. Besides, this will keep my mind off of—” I’m not fucking fine at all. His name gets stuck in my throat. I don’t know if I’ll ever be fine again.

  Daphne huffs. “The manipulative football-playing jerk?”

  “Yeah. The dickhead douche canoe.”

  Chapter 5

  Scarlett

  An hour later, we are dusty, dirty, and tired—and we haven’t found a damn thing except Mom’s diploma, a few old notebooks, and a piece of pottery she must have made in an art class exactly like the one Daphne and I are taking right now.

  “What about that box?” Max points to one on the floor near my feet under an old lamp and a kitchen mixer.

  I tap the one in question with the toe of my shoe. “This one? I don’t think we’ve looked in there yet. Help me with the stuff on top?”

  Daphne shifts the lamp on top of another box while Max lifts the heavy mixer and sets it on the floor. I pry the lid off of the big plastic container. One glance has my heart leaping into my throat. “Bingo,” I whisper.

  I drop to my knees, heedless of the dirt and oil on the garage floor. I inhale and hold my breath as I scan the contents of the box. Finally, I let out the air in a concentrated, steady stream. I reach inside, grasping two books, then hand them off to Daphne and lift out two more. My hands shake.

  “My heart is about to beat out of my chest. And I might vomit.” I hadn’t realized I would be this affected, but I’m seriously nervous now that we’ve found them.

  Max helps me to my feet. “Do you feel up to looking through them today, or would you rather wait and do it later?”

  I give a chuckle when I see Daphne give Max an appalled look. “It’s okay. I really think I need to power through. Let’s go sit at the kitchen table with these and see what we can find.”

  We take the books back into the house with us, and I feel like we’re on the cusp of finding something meaningful. “Anyone else wondering if we’ll find more than I bargained for?”

  “After all that, I sure as hell hope so.” Max gives a short laugh.

  We each take a book, scanning through the pages. Daphne murmurs, “People had some weird hairdos back then, that’s for sure. Check out those bangs.”

  Max snickers. “Maybe, but some of these clothing styles have already come back.” He shakes his head and continues flipping through pages.

  Daphne looks up. “You’ve got her senior yearbook, right, Scarlett? That one’s going to be the most useful one.”

  I nod, distracted. Something has definitely caught my attention. I’d found my mom’s senior photo right away, but that hadn’t told me much of anything, so I’d kept flipping through to get an idea of who else was in her class. With a tap of my finger to the page, I cautiously say, “This must be Aria’s aunt.”

  Max’s eyes raise to catch mine. “What’s her name?”

  “Christina Warrington. My aunt made me tell her how my phone ended up in the hot tub, and when I mentioned Aria, she said that Aria’s aunt had been in the same graduating class as my mom.” I flip to the index at the back of the book where they list each person by name with corresponding page numbers. After a little searching, I discover that Aunt Liz was correct; Christina had been the head cheerleader. There are photos of her on the pages with all the cheerleaders, and she’s in a bunch on the football team’s pages, too. Hmm. “Go figure. Another head cheer bitch. I guess Aria followed in her aunt’s footsteps.” I show them the pages before looking back at the index again.

  “Hey, what about homecoming or prom pics of your mom? Are those in there?” Daphne’s eyes brighten in anticipation.

  I flip to the appropriate section. “Yes to homecoming. My mom is only in a group photo. I can’t tell if she was there with a date. Looks like Christina was on the homecoming court.”

  Max glances at her photo. “She’s cute.” He snorts. “Her date is cuter. Wh
o is that?”

  I shrug. “Mike Staunton? Never heard of him.”

  “No prom pics?” Daphne questions.

  “Well, there are. But they’re from the previous year, and I don’t recognize anyone. This is one of those events that’s so late in the year, it ends up in the following year’s yearbook.”

  “Which means—” Max furrows his brow.

  “We need the book from the year after graduation, too. I don’t know if the prom pics will help at all, though, because your mom was already pregnant by then. Do you think she’d have gone?” Daphne grits her teeth together and shakes her head. “I wouldn’t have. Either way, library for the win. I’ll see if I can find that yearbook tomorrow.”

  Max points to a photo he’s been looking at. “Uh. Sorry to bring this up but I found Xander’s stepdad, too.” He juts his chin toward my book. “Take a look under Coventry. He should be in there.”

  When I find his senior photo, I look carefully at it. “I had no idea he was so much younger than Isabella. I’m pretty sure Xander told me she’s forty-three. If he’s my mom’s age, that makes him around thirty-four. Maybe thirty-five.”

  Max hoots. “Shit, talk about robbing the cradle. Isabella is gorgeous though, so I can’t blame Sebastian for falling for her. Xander definitely gets his good looks from—” He stops mid-thought, sliding me an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

  I shrug. “You can talk about him. I’m going to have to get used to it. Wait until tomorrow when I’m freaking stuck sitting in front of him in class first thing. That’ll be fun.”

  “Fair point, I guess. I didn’t mean to rub him in your face, though.”

  We keep looking through the yearbooks but don’t find anything further. After a while, Daphne goes to use the bathroom, and Max and I pull out our phones. I don’t know why I feel the need, but I open Instagram—and immediately regret it. In my notifications, I see I’ve been tagged in a post by none other than Aria. “Shit.”

  “What’s wrong, Cupcake?”

  “What the fuck is her problem?” I grumble. “Can’t she leave me the hell alone?” My stomach rolls over as I squint at the tiny little thumbnail image on the Activity screen. I can’t tell who is in the photo, but I’m nervous as hell to find out. “You look. I can’t do it.”

  Max reaches over and takes the phone out of my hands. He taps on the notification, opening the post. He looks at it for a few seconds, swipes to a second photo in the post and his jaw twitches. I reach to take it back but he leans away from me, holding up a finger. “Give me a sec, I’m looking through Aria’s profile.” His jaw almost hits the table. “The fuck …?” he huffs, his gaze flicking over to me. “I really don’t think you should look at this.”

  I fix him with a stony stare and murmur, “I don’t want to know, but I need to.”

  Max presses his lips together. “I took it back to the post she tagged you in. Swipe if you want to see the second photo.” He grimaces as he hands the phone back to me.

  The photos are similar—two selfies. In the first, Aria smiles cheekily at the camera and Xander seems like he’s looking off into space. In the second photo, she has her lips pressed to his neck. He looks totally out of it. Drunk. “Good for him. Looks like he’s doing totally fine. Having a great time.”

  “Actually, he looks pretty fucked up. But that’s just my opinion.”

  Daphne comes back into the room, sliding onto a chair. “What are we looking at now?”

  “Instagram.”

  “Oh no. Bad idea. Social media is the devil. No good can come of it.”

  Max snorts. “Yeah … tell us about it.”

  I show her my phone, and she groans. “Really? What the hell is he thinking?”

  Max shakes his head. “He’s obviously not thinking at all. He’s out of his mind. Look at his eyes.”

  It’s true. The dark, deep, gorgeous eyes I had come to love are unfocused and tired, half hooded by drooping eyelids. Definitely wasted. I tuck my lip between my teeth, still trying to hold on to hope. “Are we sure they’re not old pics from last year like she was posting before?”

  “Nope. That looks like last night’s party.” Max grits his teeth. “Sorry to be the bearer of shitty news.”

  “How can you tell?”

  He sighs. “That guy off to the side? That’s Callum. He transferred in this year—a junior on the football team. Probably hanging out with Beau’s brother Griffin.”

  I frown. “What was the other photo you were looking at?” I tap the back arrow to look at what else is on her account.

  Max jerks out of his seat and lunges at my phone, his face a grim mask. “Don’t!”

  I shift away just in time, looking down to see what he’s so worked up over. My lips part as I look at the other photo Aria posted last night. I wasn’t tagged in this one, but it was clearly meant for me. My lips part and I break out in a full-on sweat, unable to mentally grasp what I’m seeing.

  “Scarlett …” Max whispers softly.

  My eyes flick up to find both Daphne and Max staring at me like I’m going to fall apart. I might. But I’ve always been fragile like a bomb rather than a flower. “I don’t even know what to say.” My gaze sweeps back down to the phone where the photo of Xander and Aria in bed together taunts me.

  “Maybe it’s not what we think it is.”

  I shoot out of my chair at Daphne’s words, tossing my phone haphazardly onto the table. “They’re naked in a bed together. What am I supposed to think?”

  Chapter 6

  Xander

  I don’t know what to do about what I’d found in Sebastian’s office. Confront him? Demand answers? If what I believe is true, what will happen when he finds out I know?

  Earlier this summer, I’d asked for some cash to go to a concert with friends, and Mom had said Sebastian keeps some in the drawer in his desk, and I could take what I needed—within reason, of course. I sure as fuck wasn’t expecting to find something incriminating. Something that could be so potentially damaging.

  And to think I’d thought maybe Mom and I’d made it through all the bullshit with Dad to finally find our happiness. Mom and Sebastian still act a lot like newlyweds even though they’ve been married over six years now, and Janie is such a little sweetie. I couldn’t ask for a better little sister. A sibling is not something I’d ever wanted when I was younger, for fear of what would happen. So, when Mom divorced and remarried, then got pregnant right away, I’ll admit—I was more excited than you’d think a preteen boy would be about it. Janie’s been the balm for our damaged hearts. A beacon of shining light in our dark, dark night.

  I’d hoped we were on the right path. Finally in a place where we could relax and just be. But no. Now the calm our family has found is being threatened. I don’t even care so much about myself—I’ll be out of here in less than a year. I hope I’m wrong, because if I’m not and this gets out, our lives will implode. Again.

  I stride down the hallway, paying no mind to the gawking of other students. I’m used to it—it comes with the territory. Descended from a family who founded the school? Makes you akin to a god around here. Royalty. A Rose. It’s useful about half the time and annoying as hell the rest. Want people to know all of your business? Have your parents donate millions of dollars a year to the school. That equates to no goddamn privacy whatsoever. Want girls falling all over you, offering themselves up for no reason other than your name? That’s what status does. I’ve done nothing to earn any of it for myself except be born to the right parents. Or wrong, depending on how you look at it.

  I may have inherited my name from my father, but I seem to have gotten most of my looks from my mother’s side of the family, and yeah—the girls trip all over themselves anytime I’m near. I could probably turn around and crook a finger at any of the chicks watching me with lusty eyes and they’d come running, shimmying out of their panties along the way.

  I don’t want any of them.

  I only want her. It yanks at my heart and tears at my sou
l that she won’t ever be mine again. She can’t be. I can’t allow myself to be sucked in. It’s safer for all of us if I push her away. Better yet, if she leaves altogether. And I’m trying, but damn, she doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. I’m not sure how much more pain I can inflict on her before it breaks us both.

  As I power down the hallway, my friends come into view outside the English classroom. When they catch sight of me, Micah’s expression is pinched, Beau’s confused.

  “The fuck, man?” Beau’s greeting leaves a lot to be desired, and I scowl at him, trying to shrug it off.

  I should clue him in. But not right here. Not now.

  “So, is the rumor true? You two are really over?”

  I glance briefly at Micah, who shakes his head.

  “Yeah. She’s nothing to me,” I lie. “Don’t ask.”

  Beau rears his head back like I’ve tried to punch him. He stares at me in complete disbelief, then quickly gets right back in my face. “You could have at least waited a hot second before you jumped into bed with someone else. That was fucked up, man.” He pushes off the locker he’d been leaning against and goes into class.

  The only person I’ve been in bed with is Scarlett, so I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about. I look to Micah. “What the fuck?”

  Micah clenches his teeth together. “Aria. She posted a photo of the two of you in bed at the party Friday night.”

  I sputter. “What?” I’d told her to post the pics of us on the couch. What the hell is he talking about? Pics in a bed?

  “Look at her account if you don’t believe me.” He shrugs. “I know you said to trust you, but that was fucked up. Really fucked up. I don’t understand what you’re doing right now. I’m with you, brother, and you know I always have your back, but what you’re doing is hard to swallow.”