Found (The Scions Book 2)

by Gemma Weir

  I chuckle at her words, then panic because I don’t know how serious she is. Does she really think my lack of reply is me messing with her again? Quickly pulling up her contact I hit call and lift the cell to my ear.

  It rings and rings and just as I’m about to give up and call Zeke or Griffin she answers. “Hey.”

  “I wasn’t ignoring you or messing with you,” I blurt. “I crashed as soon as I got to Brandi and Sleaze’s and I only just checked my cell.”

  The line stays silent and my heart begins to pound. “Princess, I fucking swear. Some shit went down when I got home last night and I just crashed, you can check with Brandi and Sleaze.”

  “Are you okay?” she asks.

  “Yes. Well, no, but I just want to pretend it didn’t happen. I’ll tell you about it later, but right now I just need to forget about it. Okay?”

  She pauses. “Okay. But you’ll tell me?”

  “Later. I promise.”

  “Okay, well we’re coming to pick you up for school, be ready in five,” she says, the uncertainty still clear in her voice.

  “See you soon.” Ending the call, I slide my cell back into my pocket. This day is already a shit show and it’s barely even started. The urge to walk out the front door and just keep walking is so strong that I actually take a step forward. But Nova is on her way here and I can’t risk blowing her off to drown in my own self-pity.

  Waving to Brandi and the kids, I push through the front door, pulling my backpack onto my shoulder as I walk down the front path to the sidewalk. I spot Zeke’s car turning around the corner and step forward. He slows to a stop beside me and I pull open the rear door and slide in next to a subdued Nova.

  “Hey,” I say. “Sorry I went radio silent last night. I crashed as soon as I got back, didn’t even make it to dinner. I only just checked my cell.”

  “Lame, we were up until midnight kicking some kids in China’s asses on Call of Duty,” Griffin says, then yawns dramatically.

  He carries on talking, but I zone him out, turning to Nova. “You okay?” I ask quietly.

  She nods, but her eyes betray her.

  “You worried about school?”

  She shakes her head.

  “You pissed at me?”

  She shakes her head again.

  “You think I’m playing you?” This time it’s not a question and the flash in her eyes only confirms my suspicion. “Fuck,” I hiss under my breath. I turn to stare out of the window. All of this is my own fault. I don’t blame her for not believing me, but opening up, telling her something that she could use against me isn’t comfortable for me.

  The car falls into an uncomfortable silence; the tension emanating from Nova and I turning the air toxic and ruining the tentative comradery I thought had begun yesterday. When we pull into the school parking lot and slow to a stop in the same space as yesterday, I blurt. “My social worker was at the house when I got back last night. I didn’t react well. I figured they were kicking me out. They’re not, but she dropped a bombshell on me, and I’m pretty fucking messed up over it. Okay?” Then I unclip my seatbelt, open the door, and bolt from the car.

  I’m halfway across the lot when they catch up with me. “Wait up, man,” Zeke calls.

  I slow my pace, but don’t stop or turn to look at him. “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t need to hold hands or start a trust circle or any of that other bullshit. The only reason I told you guys is because I’m trying really hard to get you to forgive me and maybe see that I’m not always the asshole I have been since we met. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Nova says, her hand sliding around my waist as she moves to walk beside me.

  Lifting my arm, I drop it over her shoulder and curl it around her neck, pulling her closer. My sigh is audible the moment she melts into my side. None of the others say anything and we enter the school as a unit once again.

  Just like the first day I attended Archer’s Creek High, the students part to make way for the Scions to walk the hallways. There are the usual whispering and awe-filled looks, but where before there was resentment in some of the faces, today there seems to almost be a grudging respect. Nova sees what happened after the video as a sign of weakness, but I think it humanized her; it made her more relatable and showed everyone that she has a seriously big pair of lady balls to come back here and walk these halls.

  I sigh again and as the air leaves me, I relax a little. This town, this bubble we’re in, I don’t want it to pop anytime soon. I just want to be here, in a place I shouldn’t belong, with people who don’t really want me; but it’s the closest to home I’ve come in years and that’s all because of her.

  My feet stop moving and she looks to me, her eyebrow arched in question. I spin her in front of me, wrap one arm around her back, bury the other in her hair and then I kiss her. My lips move against hers and she grips my shoulders, kissing me back as desperately as I kiss her. We’re a mess, a disaster waiting to happen, but in this moment neither of us gives a shit. I want her. I need her, and fuck if I’m not in love with her. The world could stop spinning, time could stand still, and I don’t think I’d care because, right here, right now in this moment is all that matters. If this is it, the last instance of my life, I can’t think of a better way to spend it than how we are now: her in my arms, kissing me like I belong to her, like she wants to keep me forever.

  I force myself to stop kissing her when my dick becomes so hard it hurts. I can’t fuck her at school and it’s a long time till the home bell will ring. Opening my eyes, I stare into her wild, ravished ones. “I’m in love with you, Princess,” I whisper.

  “You are?” She asks, her voice barely a wisp of noise.

  “Yeah, I am,” I nod.

  She swallows convulsively and I smile, then lean forward and press another kiss against her lips. I don’t expect her to say it back, but the look in her eyes gives me hope and so I slide my arm back across her shoulders and turn her until she’s tucked into my side again, walking her the rest of the way to her locker, ignoring the catcalls that follow us.

  The morning is uneventful. No one says anything hateful to Nova in front of me and no one mentions anything in the messages that bounce back and forth between us as we move from class to class. I lean back against the bank of lockers, waiting for the others to appear, when Brit sidles up to my side.

  “Hey, Valentine,” she coos in a breathy, seductive voice.

  “What?” I snap, scanning the hallway looking for Nova. My eyes land on Zeke, and he nods, then lifts his chin. I take it as silent acknowledgment that he saw Brit approach me, not the other way around.

  “Oh, don’t be like that,” she purrs, sliding her fingers up my chest and leaning into me.

  “What do you want, Brit?” I ask, pressing my lips together to hold back the anger I feel toward this girl.

  “It’s not too late.”

  “Too late for what?”

  “For you to be part of us. I know how to keep a man like you happy and together we’ll own this place and leave behind a legacy that will linger in these halls for years to come.”

  I smile, a cold ruthless smile. She sees it and stiffens for a moment. “She’s crazy, you know? You saw that video and the way she behaved afterward. I never understood why she was so popular, but people have seen her for who she really is now, and I’ve taken over. This school belongs to me. I’m the new queen and I want you as my king.”

  “Wow,” I say. “And you think Nova is the crazy one?” I look up and see her stood beside her brother, a wary look in her eyes.

  Brit must notice that my attention isn’t on her and she glances over my shoulder. I expect her to move, but instead she presses closer to me, sliding one hand down to glide along the waist of my jeans.

  “Come here, Princess,” I call to Nova. For a moment I worry that she won’t come, that she’ll misinterpret the way her former friend is touching me. But she doesn’t. Instead she smiles, tilts her head to the side and raises her eyebrows.

&
nbsp; “How ‘bout you come here instead?” she says.

  My smile is wide and instant, and I move, pushing Brit off me, like I was swatting away a fly. She stumbles to the side, but I don’t look back. I close the distance between me and my girl and she jumps into my arms, giggling before she plants a kiss against my lips.

  The display we’re putting on is obnoxiously sweet, but Nova’s sending a message that I’m hers. When she’s done, she pulls her lips from mine, slides down my body and turns to face Brit.

  “We were friends, Brit. If you wanted the school that badly, I would have stepped down and given it to you, because I never wanted to be popular. I never asked for it, and it made me feel like I had to pretend to be a different person. But he,” she pauses and points up at me, her eyes locking with mine for a second before she turns back to Brit. “He’s mine and if you ever touch him again, I will kick your fucking ass. You want to be the queen of Archer’s Creek High then have at it. But don’t forget that I’m the Princess of The Doomsday Fucking Sinners and if I choose to, I could squash you like the annoying little insect that you are.”

  Zeke hoots, laughing loudly, then Emmy and Griffin’s amusement joins his, and in this moment as I look between them I realize why they command so much reverence. Alone, I’m sure they’re all formidable, but together they’re family and there’s nothing and no one who could ever get between them.

  After the drama of my showdown with Brit, the rest of the day is uneventful. I’m still sad about the loss of our friendship, but seeing her draped all over Valentine, her hands touching him, made me furious with an incredibly territorial anger that I’ve never felt before.

  I’ve liked guys before, I’ve dated, and even had longer term boyfriends, but I’ve never felt anything like the jealousy I felt when I saw her near him.

  He loves me. He told me this morning, but now it almost feels real.

  I’m not sure I love him. I like him, enough to forgive all of the bullshit he’s pulled; but love? I’m not there yet.

  “You coming back to ours?” Zeke asks him as we cross the parking lot to where our car is parked.

  “Nah, not tonight,” Valentine says.

  I turn to look at him and notice for the first time the tightness in his eyes. He looks… weary, like the weight of the world is pressing him down and he’s barely holding it all up.

  I’m not sure if it was his solidarity yesterday, or his just his constant, unrelenting persistence, but it feels like the others have forgiven Valentine too. He probably isn’t at the top of any of their Christmas lists, but they’re worried about him, I can see it on their faces and feel it in the wave of unsettled quiet that’s descended over the car.

  When Zeke slows to a stop outside Valentine’s house, I wait for him to ask me to come in with him, or for him to look at me and give me any kind of hint that he wants my support. But he just turns, kisses me quickly then climbs out of the car, slamming the door behind him with a decisive thud.

  I watch him walk away, hoping that he’ll turn and look, but again I’m left disappointed.

  “What’s going on with him?” Zeke asks.

  “I have no idea.” I reply absently, my gaze fixed firmly on his bedroom window. The first time we met he watched me from that window, but today the glass stays empty.

  Laying my head back against the seat, I sigh, staying silent for the rest of the journey home. We drop off Emmy and Griffin at their houses and for the first time since my epic meltdown a little over a week ago we go home alone.

  “You doing okay?” Zeke asks as we walk into the kitchen.

  “I’m fine,” I say, replying without thought.

  Zeke’s hand lands on my arm and I pause and turn to look at him.

  “I don’t want the stock answer, Nova. You’ve been saying you’re fine this whole time and you weren’t.”

  Sighing, I pull out one of the chairs at the table and sit down. “I guess I’m doing better than I thought I would,” I say honestly.

  He pulls out the chair next to me and sits too. “What does that mean?”

  “I guess it means I’m not better, but I’m coping. Is my head quiet and peaceful? No. But is it as bad as it was when that video was recorded? No, it’s not.”

  Zeke seems to think about my answer, then he nods. “That makes sense. If it gets bad, you’ll tell me though, right?”

  “I will, I promise. But right now, I’m more worried about Valentine.”

  “What do you think happened at his place last night?” Zeke asks.

  “I have no idea. He has so many secrets, so many things that he hints at but never really explains. He told me he loved me today and I don’t feel like I really know anything about him.”

  “Maybe you should ask Brandi?”

  “I don’t want to go behind his back like that; finding out his secrets that way sort of feels wrong.” I say, worrying at my nails absentmindedly.

  “Then go ask him.”

  “Simple as that,” I say sardonically.

  “Simple as that,” he replies, throwing his arms out to the side with a flourish.

  “I have my shrink appointment in an hour. Maybe I’ll go by and see him after that.”

  A few hours later, I slow my car to a stop outside his house and try to quell the nervous butterflies that have burst to life in my stomach. I’m not sure why I’m worried. I think he’ll be pleased to see me; after all, he’s done everything he can to be near me the last week or so. But he’s the one who comes to me. I’ve never just turned up at his house to see him.

  Killing the engine, I pull my keys from the ignition and open the door. The house looks quiet, but Uncle Sleaze’s bike and truck are both parked in the driveway. I walk up to the front door and twist the handle letting myself in. “Hey,” I call the moment I step inside, the way I’ve been doing my entire life.

  “Hey, Princess,” Uncle Sleaze calls from the kitchen. I follow the sound of his voice and find him on the floor playing Lego with Callum.

  “Hey, Cal, what are you guys building?”

  “A space station. I’m showing Sleaze what to do,” Cal says, his sweet little face smiling brightly.

  “Yeah, I’m guessing he probably needs plenty of help.”

  “He does,” Cal says, nodding solemnly.

  I chuckle and agree.

  “You here to see Valentine or you want to play Lego with us?” Sleaze asks.

  “I’m here for Valentine, if that’s okay?”

  “He’s in his room,” Uncle Sleaze says, then swallows. “Just, tread carefully, it’s been a messed- up couple of days.”

  I nod, desperately wanting him to explain what’s happened, wanting him to tell me what’s caused Valentine to be so upset. But Valentine needs to tell me himself. It’s not fair of me to pry into his life, just because his foster parents are my auntie and uncle. If he wants me to know what’s happened he’ll tell me.

  I climb the stairs to the top of the house and the faint sound of music trickles from his slightly ajar bedroom door. Swallowing thickly, I push the gap a little further open and peer inside. Valentine is flat on his back on the bed, his arms propped behind his head, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. What should look like a relaxed, peaceful position is juxtaposed by the stiff lines of his muscles and the firm scowl etched across his lips. He looks tightly wound, like he could snap at any minute.

  “Hey,” I call quietly.

  His head snaps in my direction and I search his expression for something to tell me he’s happy I’m here, but his eyes shutter and I find myself bracing for his reaction.

  “Hey.”

  Nothing, just that one word and his eyes move back to the ceiling.

  “Can I come in?”

  “Sure.”

  A part of me seriously considers turning around and leaving. Warning bells are ringing inside of me, but I ignore them all and step into his bedroom, the mouse stepping into the lion’s den. Only I’m not a mouse and despite all of his emo angry bravado he isn’t that s
cary a lion.

  Biting the bullet, I climb onto the bed and settle myself next to him, my head rested on his shoulder. His chest rises as he inhales, then I feel some of the tension seep from his muscles and his arm moves from behind his head and curls around me, pulling me closer to him.

  “Hi,” he says, the warmth in that single word enough to make me glad I didn’t run.

  “Hi.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you. I was worried.”

  He rolls so he’s lying on his side in front of me, our faces only a few inches apart.

  “You shouldn’t worry about me; you have your own shit to worry about.”

  Sighing, I lift my hand and stroke my fingers along his jaw, the faint shadow of stubble spiky beneath my skin. “I’ve got plenty of people to worry about me. I have a little time to spare for you.”

  He smiles, twisting his face and kissing my fingers quickly. “I’m fine.” He assures me, closing the gap between us. His lips find mine and he kisses me, his arms banding around me, pulling me even further into his body, as his leg pushes between mine and my body comes to life.

  My nipples harden and I feel heat pool between my legs as his thigh slides back and forth along my sex. He’s overwhelming my senses, his tongue in my mouth, his hand on my breast, his leg rubbing a delicious friction between my thighs. But as much as I want to lose myself in him, I need to understand him even more.

  Pushing my hands between us, I press my palms into his chest and pry my lips from his. He sighs, still playing with my nipple, his fingers toying with the tip, teasing and pinching.

  “We need to talk,” I say breathily.

  “I don’t want to talk. I want to peel off your shirt and suck on your perfect little nipples, then I want to rip off your panties and lick you until you come all over my face.” His lips land on my neck, nipping and kissing at the skin there.

  “Valentine,” I moan, writhing against his thigh, the friction becoming delicious as the seam of my jean shorts rubs against my clit.