Fallen Heirs : A Dark High School Bully Romance (Windsor Academy Book 3)

by Laura Lee

  “You’re a sick fuck,” I snap.

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” His lips curve into a cruel smirk. “Don’t worry, Jasmine. After we get out to sea and I dump your backstabbing father into the Pacific, you and I will have some fun. For some reason, I get the feeling you like a little depravity in the bedroom. Lucky for you, I have plenty to go around.”

  The yacht suddenly starts moving, and Preston’s eyes light up. “Oh, good. It looks like the festivities will be starting soon. If you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to go check on the captain and make sure he takes us far enough away from any prying eyes.” Preston nods to my father. “Make sure he doesn’t leave. Oh, who am I kidding? He’s not going anywhere in that condition.”

  “Wake up!” I whisper-shout the second Preston’s laughter fades from outside the room. “If you have any paternal instincts deep down in that fucked up brain of yours, you’d wake up and untie me!”

  I pull at my restraints with a frustrated growl. I keep trying and trying to yank my arms free until I’m panting from the exertion.

  “Charles!” I try again, tears falling down my face. “Please get up! Don’t let Preston get away with this! If you don’t want to do it for me, do it for yourself. He’s going to kill you!”

  Sperm Donor groans again. Finally, some acknowledgment! Charles rolls to his side, wheezing. He slowly peels one eye open—easier said than done when it’s so swollen—and locks in on me.

  “Jasmine.” My father coughs as if speaking took some serious effort.

  “Who did this to you? Preston?”

  He gives a minute shake of his head. “Hired... muscle.”

  Of course. Preston doesn’t like to get his own hands dirty.

  “Can you move?” I keep my eye on the door, waiting for Preston to reappear at any moment. “Can you untie me?”

  “Can... try... don’t... know... if... succeed.” He has another coughing fit.

  “Shh! Keep it down.”

  Charles army-crawls toward me with an agonizingly slow pace. Each time he moves, he makes this horrific sound that makes me think of an animal being tortured. He’s wheezing loudly, beads of sweat dripping down his face. I sit up as much as I can when he’s almost made his way over to the bed, scooting as far over as I can to make it easier for him to reach me. Right when he extends his arm, trying to use the bed for stability, the door opens.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Preston’s back, with a gun pointed directly at my father.

  I curse internally when Charles slumps face down in defeat. I was so close. I don’t know how far I could’ve gone since I have no clue how far offshore we are at this point, but I would’ve tried. I’d rather drown while attempting to flee than lie here and allow Preston to abuse me.

  Preston tsks. “Oh, Jasmine. What am I going to do with you? It seems like you need a lesson in who you’re dealing with.” Before I get a chance to ask him what that is, he cocks the trigger and shoots.

  I scream as blood soaks through the right leg of Charles’ slacks. Charles, however, doesn’t make a sound. I can still see the faint rise and fall of his back while he takes labored breaths, but he’s completely silent. He must’ve passed out.

  “You’re a goddamn psycho!” I yank on the ropes as hard as I possibly can, trying to get free. I cry out when it feels like I’ve just about dislocated my shoulder.

  Preston trains the gun on me. “Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.”

  “Fuck you!”

  His eyes flash with rage. “You little slut. I think I need to teach you some fucking respect.”

  I pull at my restraints furiously as Preston gets closer and closer, but it’s no use. When he reaches the bed, he tucks the gun into the back waistband of his pants and climbs onto the mattress, jabbing his knee into my chest, knocking the breath out of me. I plant my feet on the bed, making a pathetic attempt at a bridge pose as he fumbles with the button on my jeans. He’s at the wrong angle for me to nail him in the balls, but that doesn’t stop me from trying.

  “Hold still, you bitch!” he growls.

  “Eat shit!” I counter.

  I turn my head as his fist comes flying toward my face. Preston’s hand connects with my cheekbone, which hurts like a motherfucker, but at least it wasn’t my eye, I suppose. I’m stunned just long enough for him to unfasten my jeans and start pulling them over my hips.

  “Get your nasty fucking hands off of me!”

  I twist and turn my lower body, trying to prevent the denim from sliding down my legs, but not being able to use my hands is really hindering any progress.

  Preston gives me a sinister smile as he successfully removes my pants and tosses them behind him. He grips my bare legs, digging his thumb into a nerve on my upper inner thigh. I cry out when he presses harder, and a sharp pain steals my breath. His hands are mere inches away from my panty line as he shoves my knees into my chest. Preston holds my knees in place as he stares down at the small scrap of cotton separating my bare pussy from his greedy eyes.

  Preston leans forward, banding one arm over my legs. Then he drops his hips and moans.

  “If you haven’t figured it out yet, my sweet flower, I like it when you fight back. It makes my dick hard.” He presses his erection into me, punctuating his statement.

  I bare my teeth at him. “What did you just call me?”

  “Oh? Did you like that? I remember your mother used to say that to you. At the time, I thought it was a silly term of endearment, but now, I’m curious if it’s an accurate description of your sweet cunt. My son certainly seems to think it’s worth throwing everything away for.”

  Preston circles my ankles again and pulls them around his waist as he proceeds to dry hump me. I’m about to start screaming when my toe butts up against the gun. I don’t hesitate for a second. I tighten my thighs around Preston and bring my feet together just enough to pull the weapon out of his pants.

  He figures out what I’m doing pretty fast and twists out of my grip, but not before I get the gun and kick it to the floor. Preston rewinds his hand, and bitch slaps me in the same spot he punched me earlier. My eyes fill with tears, quickly losing the battle to keep them at bay. Vomit climbs up my throat as he pins my legs to my chest again, and starts rubbing me through my underwear with a look of sheer ecstasy on his perverted face.

  “You’re a sick bastard!”

  He laughs sardonically as he dips the tip of his thumb inside of me through the thin cotton barrier. “And you’re a fucking cock tease. We make a good pair, don’t we?”

  I frantically scroll through my brain, struggling to find a way out of this. Panic overwhelms me as my mind refuses to produce anything viable. How many times do I have to be assaulted by these elitist pricks before enough is enough? Seriously, it’s a fucking miracle my sanity is still intact. I don’t know if that’ll still be the case if this goes any further.

  No, I can’t think like that. I have to get out of this. There is no other option. If what Preston said is true—if my mom died because she was trying to do what she thought was best for me—then I owe this to her. I refuse to let her death be in vain. I will not let these sick fucks win. I steel my resolve when I figure out how I’m going to approach this.

  Preston gives me a smarmy smile as he grips the straps of my underwear. “Now, I think we’ve had enough foreplay, don’t you? Let’s get these things off so we can have some real fun.”

  “Wait!”

  To my surprise, he actually pauses. “What?”

  “I’ll do whatever you want.” I muster all the sincerity I can manage into my tone. “I promise. I’ll stop fighting... or... if you want me to pretend to fight, I can do that too.”

  Preston’s forehead is unnaturally smooth as he frowns. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

  “No.” I shake my head. “Not at all; I swear. I just... I just need something from you first.”

  Preston sits back on his knees and assesses me carefully. “All rig
ht, I’m curious enough to indulge you. What exactly do you need from me before I take what I want from you?”

  “I want to be the one to kill him. Charles, I mean. I want the last thing he sees to be my face staring down the barrel of a gun.”

  His eyes narrow. “And why would you want to do that?”

  “For what he did to my mom,” I explain. “Where I grew up, if somebody takes something of value from you, you take back, no matter the cost. He had my mom shot to death, so it’s only fair I do the same to him.”

  The crazy bastard likes this idea. I can tell. More importantly, he’s starting to believe me.

  “All you need to do is untie me. Then, I can shoot Charles, we can dump his body, then you can do whatever you want with me.” When he still seems doubtful, I add, “You can even call me Mahalia if you’d like. I’ll pretend to be her for as long as you want me to.”

  I swallow hard, waiting for him to make a decision. When his face lights up in a genuine—albeit batshit—smile, I know I’ve hooked him.

  “Okay... I’ll bite.” His eyes narrow again. “But don’t think I’m just going to hand you the gun and let you have a go at it. I’ll be right behind you, holding the gun, while you pull the trigger.”

  Shit. Not exactly what I was hoping for, but I’ll have to take it and figure out the rest as I go. If I can get Preston to untie me, I’ll be in a much better position to improvise.

  I nod. “Okay.”

  “Then... I’m going to fuck every one of your holes while you scream for mercy.” Preston’s watching me carefully, gauging my reaction.

  I gulp, allowing him to see the fear his words have summoned. “Whatever you want.”

  He nods, seemingly satisfied by my answer. Preston slides off the bed to retrieve the gun, placing it behind his back again.

  “Don’t get any funny ideas while I untie those ropes. If you go for the gun again, I’ll fuck your pussy with the barrel while my dick is up your ass.”

  Jesus-fucking-Christ, this man is disturbed. Well and truly disturbed.

  I hold my breath when he comes closer and reaches over me to begin the process of unknotting the restraints. Once my hands are free, I instinctively rub my wrists, breathing a sigh of relief.

  “Get up.” Preston makes a come hither motion with one hand while he uses the other to point the gun at me. “Let’s get this over with.”

  I climb off the bed and slowly walk toward Preston with my hands raised in surrender. I tell myself to ignore the look he gives me as he eyes my bare legs, paying particular attention to the apex of my thighs.

  “Good girl.”

  When I join him where he’s standing over my unconscious father, he kicks Charles in the ribs, causing him to jolt awake. Preston flips the beaten man over with the toe of his tacky boat shoe, so he’s on his back.

  I look between my father, and the gun Preston has pointed at him. “What do I do? I’ve never shot a gun before.”

  His lips turn up in the corner. “Come here, sweet Jasmine. I’ll show you what to do.”

  I tentatively take a few steps closer, gasping in surprise as he grabs my arm, pulling me into him. With my back at Preston’s front, he wraps his arms around me from behind and nuzzles his nose into my hair.

  “Mmm... you smell sweet too. I can’t wait to get a taste of your pussy.” Bile churns in my gut when he presses his hard-on into my lower back. Preston takes my arms, guiding them into position. He wraps his hands over mine as he curls my index finger over the trigger of the gun. “Now, I’m going to slide the safety off, just like this.” He pauses for effect before doing just that. “Then we’re going to aim for that bullseye right in the middle of his forehead.” He lowers the gun until it’s pointing at my father’s head. “Wake up, Charles! You don’t want to miss this.”

  My father’s eyes open slightly, immediately honing in on me. My breath stutters when I see the resignation in his gaze—the hopelessness. No matter how much I hate this man, I don’t want to actually kill him. I don’t want that on my conscience. Besides, I’d much rather see him rot in a jail cell for the rest of his life.

  “Any final words you’d like to say to your daughter?” Preston taunts. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

  “I-I’m s-sorry, Jasmine,” Charles chokes out. “For... every... thing.”

  Tears start pouring out of my eyes with no warning. Preston has to catch me when my knees buckle.

  He chuckles. “Oh, don’t back out on me now, Jasmine. We’re just getting to the good part.”

  I take a fortifying breath when he positions my finger back on the trigger. Shit. Think fast, Jasmine. How am I going to get out of this? Right as Preston’s slowly putting pressure on my finger, an eerily calm voice stops him in his tracks.

  “Let her go, or I’ll put a bullet in your brain.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  KINGSTON

  My father’s eyes swing in my direction to find me pointing my gun directly at him. Jazz gasps when he bands an arm around her torso and points his gun to her temple. It takes every ounce of control I possess to remain calm.

  “Now, now, Kingston. I would put the gun down if I were you. You wouldn’t want poor Jasmine here to get hurt, would you?”

  I briefly take inventory of my girl’s appearance. My jaw tics when I notice a bruise blooming on her left cheek, but other than that, she seems relatively unchanged. Although considering her pants are gone, I have to ask.

  “You okay, Jazz?” I want to stab myself in the eye the moment the words leave my mouth. Of course, she’s not okay. Even if my dad hasn’t had the chance to do any real damage yet, she still has a madman pressing a gun against her temple.

  “I’m okay.” She winces when my father tightens his grip.

  “She won’t be if you don’t put the gun down,” my asshole father promises.

  “Step. The. Fuck. Away. From. Her.” Each word that comes out of my mouth is laced with deadly intent. “I’m not afraid to kill you.”

  “Like father, like son,” he snarls, pointing the gun directly at me now.

  Unfortunately, he still has a tight hold on Jazz. I’m confident in my aim, but too many things can go wrong if I fired with her standing so close to him. It’s not a risk I’m willing to take. I just hope the guys have successfully cleared the decks. The last thing I need is for someone else to come in here and add to my problem.

  “I am nothing like you, old man.”

  “Really?” The arm that’s holding Jazz moves until his hand is right over her breast. My trigger finger gets itchy when he squeezes it, taunting me. “We have the same taste in women.”

  I have to consciously avoid looking at Jazz’s face right now because I don’t think I can handle seeing the fear I know she must be feeling. “I’m not going to say it again, Dad. Let her go.”

  “Or what?” he scoffs. “I don’t think you have the balls to shoot me.”

  I aim the gun to the right and pull the trigger. Jazz screams when the mirror above the dresser shatters. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Charles crawling on the floor, slowly inching toward them. I quickly glance his way and find him looking right back at me, silently trying to communicate his intentions. I don’t trust that bastard as far as I can throw him, but I do believe his hatred for my father is strong enough to let this play out. I know I need to keep my father distracted long enough for that to happen, though.

  “You don’t think so?” A muscle in his cheek jumps as I goad him. “Why not? Because you’ve been such an exemplary father all these years?”

  “You ungrateful little shit. I should’ve had someone kill you, just like I did with your bitch of a mother.” My father’s mouth forms into a malicious grin when he sees my lack of shock. “Ah, I can see that comes as no surprise to you. Maybe you are smarter than I’ve given you credit for. Does your sister know?”

  “Know what an evil bastard you are?” I ask. “Yes. Does she know the details of what you and Callahan have done? She’s abou
t to find out. I’m sure it’ll be all over every news channel soon enough.”

  His eyes narrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means exactly what I said. By the time you get off this boat, Ainsley—and the rest of the world—will know all your dirty deeds. The trafficking, the embezzlement, the cartel connections, bribery, and blackmail. All of it.” When his eyes widen, I continue. “You see, dear father, the FBI has been on to you two for a long time. And it just so happens that your jilted lover, Madeline, gave them the missing piece of the puzzle they needed to bust your ass. Your warehouse is being raided as we speak.”

  His eyes flash with rage, right before he points the gun at Charles and shoots him in the head. Blood splatters as Charles’ lifeless body immediately falls to the floor. My father then swings the gun back to me, but Jazz uses the distraction to shove out of his hold before he gets the chance to pull the trigger. As his weapon drops to the floor, Jazz takes the opportunity to duck into a closet. With her out of the line of fire, I can now focus solely on taking this motherfucker down.

  My father’s nostrils flare, and his eyes are crazed as he lunges for me. I don’t give him a chance to touch me, though. I aim the barrel of my gun and fire. My first shot hits him in the leg, causing him to fall to his knees. He doubles over when my second shot hits him in the shoulder.

  “You shot me!” He scrambles for the gun he dropped when Jazz pushed him, but he’s having trouble moving his arm.

  I step forward and kick the gun away. “And I’ll do it again if you don’t give up. I’d rather let the feds deal with you so I can enjoy the thought of you rotting away getting raped in prison for the rest of your miserable life, but I’m not afraid to blow your brains out if you force my hand. Either way, you’re no longer a problem.”

  “You’d murder your father for a piece of pussy?” he screams.

  I scoff. “No. I’d kill you because you’re a sadistic fuck who doesn’t deserve to breathe. The world is a better place without you.”