by MJ Prince
I twist and turn on my bed for what seems like hours, although my bedside clock tells me it’s only been twenty minutes since I climbed into bed. Maybe it’s because with each passing minute I can feel the anger returning. Anger aimed at one person in particular.
I don’t know what compels me to leave my room. But I only know that I can’t stand to be in my room a moment longer, my walls plastered with images of tits and ass. A reminder of what these people clearly think of me.
A part of me knows that it’s also because staying hidden in my room like some kind of shameful secret is just what Raph wants. He gave his orders and he expects me to obey. But I’m not one of his little subjects and he has another think coming if he’s expecting to be able to lord over me, like he seems to over every other person in this goddamn place.
I’m already immersed in the sea of bodies crowding the entrance hall when I realize that I didn’t even bother to get changed. I’m still in my sleep shorts and vest. But it’s quickly apparent that I’m showing far less skin than most of the people at the party.
Sovereign Hall is heaving with people. Everyone on campus seems to be here tonight, or at least those popular enough to be invited, and everyone looks like they’re dressed to go to a beach party, where there’ll be a swimsuit competition taking place, instead of a house party. But of course, this isn’t any normal house party. It’s a goddamn mansion and of course, there’s an indoor pool the size of a tennis court.
I expect to slip through the crowd unnoticed. Everyone is either too busy getting wasted on the dance floor, or making out on every available surface. But I’m sadly mistaken. I can feel eyes on me as I pass, people visibly backing away. I couldn’t care less and in fact, I’m glad. It makes it far easier to cross the packed hall when the crowd parts like the red sea for me.
I find myself at the sweeping marble topped bar in the natatorium and I ignore everyone and everything as I perch on one of the bar stools and proceed to pour myself a drink. Thankfully, the bar is all but deserted.
I realize that this is my very first high school party. Not much of a first, but I drink a bitter toast to that. It seems that alcohol tastes the same even in Eden, and I drink another toast to that.
I scan my surroundings, and it’s clear what goes down in these parties—making out. Lots of it.
Members of the soccer team paired off with one, or more, scantily-clad girls, doing god knows what, and it’s everywhere I look. Not just in the dark corners of the hall.
The Dynasty heirs are easy to spot, even among the heaving crowd. Even with the excessive wealth and opulence surrounding this place, they stand out as the most privileged of them all. The most beautiful. The most powerful.
That distinct air of power and cruel beauty makes them utterly unapproachable. Unattainable. But all eyes are drawn to them, like moths to a goddamn flame. Those privileged enough to associate with them, hover close by, but not close enough to truly be a part of their world. They own this place, they’re the very reason why everyone is here tonight. All desperate for even a single look, a word, from one of the Dynasty heirs. And it makes me sick.
I see the queen bitch herself standing with Keller and Ivy, along with a group of girls I recognize from their oh so popular lunch table. They’re surrounded by guys from the soccer team who seem utterly enthralled by these stunningly beautiful girls.
Layla eyes me with distaste as she notices me across the natatorium. As if my very presence is equivalent to a stray animal wondering into the party; and it’s clear from the look on her face, that she can’t quite believe said animal would even dare to show its face. Keller follows her line of sight and the look on her face is equally disbelieving. Clearly disobeying the royal asshole’s orders is something entirely alien to these people.
My eyes travel to where Lance is standing with Baron by the pool edge. Again, both are surrounded by the opposite sex.
I almost roll my eyes at the cliché of it all. But then my gaze falls on something, or more accurately, someone, that makes me regret my decision to come down here at all.
Raph is lounging on one of the poolside recliners, surrounded by what looks like a cast of teen supermodels, all clearly on the list of the most beautiful girls on campus. Although, Raph, too, looks like he’s just walked off the runway of some international fashion show. That, or off the cover of some goddamn magazine. It’s sickening as hell, but I can’t seem to look away.
He has one girl pressed to each side of him, whilst two other girls dance with each other in front of him. Actually, dancing is a polite way of putting it, because they’re more like grinding. Dirty grinding, which given the fact that they’re both wearing string bikinis, makes it akin to stripping. The only thing missing is the pole. Christ, and they think I’m the stripper.
My gaze flicks to Layla momentarily and needless to say, her expression is one of pure venom as she watches her betrothed acting not so betrothed, although unlike the cafeteria scene earlier, she doesn’t make a move to stop him.
The entire scene makes me sick to my stomach and it’s a wonder I’m able to keep my drink down.
He chooses exactly that moment to look my way, and as soon as his eyes lock onto mine, I feel my stomach sink. What the hell was I thinking coming down here?
His expression is unreadable, but I can see from the fire blazing in the depths of those luminous blue eyes, that firstly, my presence is entirely unwelcome and secondly, that he knows exactly who is responsible for throwing his precious trophies in the ocean.
I fully expect him to cross the vast natatorium and drag me upstairs to his balcony, so that he can throw me off it—so that I can join his belongings as they float out to sea. But he doesn’t make a move.
I force myself to turn away and I down the rest of my drink, although I’m all too aware of the way those eyes are boring a hole into me. If only looks could kill, I’m sure I’d be dead by now.
I let out a long breath as I slam my glass down on the marble bar surface. Whatever restless rebelliousness was in my system earlier, is now long gone, and I want nothing more than to crawl back into bed and disappear. Even if I probably won’t be able to sleep a wink until this goddamn party is over, and the deafening bass stills.
Unfortunately, I’ve barely made it off the bar stool when I’m faced with those blazing blue eyes up close, as Raph glowers down at me.
“I specifically recall telling you that you weren’t invited.” His voice is as cold as ice in contrast to that fire.
Although I’d been only all too ready to leave this party, his tone makes me change my mind pretty damn quickly. If only to prove a point to this asshole.
“And I specifically recall telling you that if you think you can threaten me and bark orders at me, then expect me to roll over and obey, then you have another think coming, asshole.”
He smirks in response and I want nothing more than to wipe it off his perfect face.
His eyes travel the length of me and despite feeling overdressed earlier in comparison to the swimwear-clad crowd, I suddenly feel exposed in my vest and sleep shorts.
I’m equally aware of his lack of clothing as he stands much too close, wearing nothing but black swim shorts. But I refuse to look and it’s probably the most self-control I’ve ever had to exert.
“I think your exact words were royal asshole, actually.”
I’m both surprised that he actually remembered what I’d said, that he’s capable of remembering anything other than his name being spoken in praise and chanted in glory, and at the same time, I’m pissed as hell that he has the gall to throw those words back at me.
I open my mouth to give him something else to remember, but he’s already continuing.
“I’ll give you one chance to get the hell out of here. One. Go back upstairs. Now. And I’ll pretend I never saw you down here.”
My answer is simple.
“No.”
“No?” He says it as if he’s never heard the word before, which is probably
true. I can’t imagine anyone having the balls or in the case of every single girl on this damn planet, the self-control, to ever refuse him. The heir to the goddamn throne. He’s probably never wanted for anything in his entire life. Well, I’m more than willing to educate him.
“No.” I repeat. “N.O. As in I won’t be following your orders, your highness,” I mock.
His perfect features twist in displeasure. Then he cocks his head to the side as he regards me thoughtfully, like a formation on a chess set. Considering his next move before he goes in for the kill.
I wonder why he hasn’t yet brought up his goddamn trophies. But I’m not about to give him an opening to do just that, so I continue before he can fill the space between us with more of his poisonous words.
“Seeing as you insist on cranking the bass high enough to wake the dead, and seeing as you thought it would be a good idea to plaster my walls with pictures of tits and ass, hiding away in my room isn’t much of an option right now.”
He flashes that infuriatingly arrogant smile then.
“I thought you’d be used to seeing tits and ass everywhere. Does it remind you of home?”
Bastard.
I bite down on the responding insult working its way up my throat because he’s just not worth it.
“Is that the best you’ve got?” I ask coolly, quirking an eyebrow.
I can see from the heat in his expression, that it has the desired effect.
“Because if that’s the case, then I think I’ll just sit down and pour myself another drink. I’d ask you to join me, but I don’t drink with assholes, so if you don’t mind …” I add, sounding much braver than I feel. Because right now, I feel intimidated as hell. But there’s no way I’m about to let him see that.
The heat in his gaze blazes to an almighty inferno and I was right to feel intimidated. I’m suddenly all too aware that I’m feeding a fire that will most likely burn me alive.
“I do mind, actually,” Raph replies, his eyes darkening.
I open my mouth to retort, but we’re suddenly interrupted.
“What do we have here?” Baron’s voice travels from behind Raph.
I look up to see those striking aquamarine eyes peering at me from over Raph’s shoulder. He flashes me that panty dropping smile. But with the two of them towering over me like a pair of line backers, it’s impossible to feel anything other than intimidated.
Across the natatorium, I can see Lance looking over at us from the pool edge. The flash of alarm in his expression tells me that if I’m not already worried, then I sure as hell should be.
Raph’s eyes me coolly, and the ruthless glint in those impossibly blue eyes is impossible to miss.
“No one important,” he replies casually, but his eyes never leave mine and clearly those words are directed at me.
“Just someone who needs to be taught a lesson.”
Baron’s smile widens in response. But before I can tell both these assholes to go to hell, I feel the ground falling away beneath me. It takes me a moment to realize that I’m being carried over someone’s shoulder. Raph’s very broad and powerfully muscled shoulder.
I start thrashing against the iron grip, although I’m still too disoriented to truly understand what’s happening.
Raph lets out a low growl in response.
“You think you’re funny throwing my stuff into the sea—my trophies?” he says, finally alluding to my earlier act of revenge.
“Let me go!” I scream, although it’s lost in the pounding music. Put me down, you fucker!”
Before I can say anything else, I feel myself flying through the air and the shock of wetness as I plunge into water. Acting on instinct, I kick my way up to the surface, spewing out chlorine water as I break through. Laughter echoes through the glass walled natatorium.
Any residual disorientation fades when I realize that the asshole has thrown me into the swimming pool.
I smooth my hair back with shaking hands. I’m so furious, I can’t even see straight. But through the haze of rage, my eyes lock onto Raph, who is standing over the pool, his arms crossed over his perfectly tanned chest and looking all too pleased with himself. I want to wipe that smile off his face.
I can hear the distinct sound of Layla and Ivy cackling in the background.
“Damn girl, you look sexy as hell all soaked through like that.” Baron is standing closest to the pool edge with Lance and both of them are smirking down at me.
My face is burning now, because I can feel that everyone is staring. What looks like the entire soccer team is gathered around, pissing themselves with laughter, at the sight.
My temper explodes and I grab the two closest people to the pool edge—Baron and Lance, pulling them into the water by their legs.
Baron glides through the water effortlessly, like a shark, and surfaces quickly, laughing as he breaks through. Heir of the sea, indeed. I can feel his arms wrap around me as he tries to help me out of the pool.
“Chill, sweetheart, it was just a joke,” he says, still laughing. His arm wraps tighter around my waist as he leads me up to the pool steps. I make to push him away, but Raph is already speaking.
“Get your fucking hands off her, B,” Raph growls. He suddenly looks furious as he glares at Baron, and I have no clue why. It only makes me angrier.
I climb the pool steps and march over to where Raph is standing, painfully aware that my white sleeping shorts and vest are soaked through, leaving little to the imagination. I hate myself for not wearing a bra to bed tonight.
Raph’s eyes are like blue flames as they rake over my body and it only adds fuel to the anger boiling inside me.
Something inside me snaps then and I feel the sharp sting of flesh against my palm as I slap Raph across that smug face of his.
The room falls into silence and I can hear audible gasps coming from the soccer team. Raph looks stunned, but recovers quickly. He’s beyond furious. Good. So am I.
“Are you crazy?” Raph seethes.
I force my breathing to calm, and I step closer as I bring my face up to his.
“Yeah, I am—and if you keep messing with me, you’ll see just what a crazy bitch I am. You think this was funny? Well laugh it up, because you won’t be laughing when I return the favor.”
Feeling brazen then, or just feeling like I have nothing left to lose, I bring my lips up to his ear.
“And I always return the favor.”
I think I’m imagining it, but I swear that I feel a shudder go through that powerfully muscled body. Either way, he seems at a loss for words, as I turn on my heel and walk away into the stunned crowd.
I can feel his eyes burning a hole into the back of me. It isn’t until I get back upstairs and see my reflection in the full length mirror that I realize my soaked white sleeping shorts are so see-through, that I may as well have been walking away bare assed.
10
I wake up the next morning, totally regretting the promise of pay back. Who am I kidding? I may not take shit from anyone, but that doesn’t mean I have any experience in revenge tactics, or any other form of high school terrorization. The trophies in the ocean stunt was purely a onetime thing.
I wake up extra early for school, planning to sneak out while everyone is still asleep. I know that I told myself that I’m not going to act like a coward, but I don’t think I can handle seeing any of the assholes who happen to be my hall mates this morning, without losing my shit entirely.
It occurs to me as I step out onto the driveway and my gaze falls on the matte black sports car, that I’m pretty sure it belongs to a certain angel faced devil. I can’t help the smile that breaks out on my face when I notice that someone has left the keys in the ignition. It’s almost as if the universe is telling me to do this. I say a silent thank you and walk towards the car. The paint job is so flawless, that it’s almost a shame. Almost.
I don’t know what I’m going to do at first, but again, as if being guided by the powers that be, I notice a half emp
ty vodka bottle from last night’s party on the front steps. A few feet from that there is a discarded t-shirt and a packet of cigarettes with a lighter. I’m suddenly extremely thankful for that damned party last night. Best idea ever.
I start up the engine and as it roars to life, I’m scared that it’ll wake up my demonic hall mates. Thankfully, no one comes out. I drive away from Sovereign Hall, towards the edge of the bluff.
I’ve never made an alcohol bomb before, but I’ve seen it done on TV enough times to get the gist. I hope that the method shown on TV is actually correct.
I launch the vodka bottle, with the flaming t-shirt shoved into the neck, through the open driver’s side window, and don’t stick around to watch as Raph’s sleek black ride goes up in flames.
My phone rings as I walk towards campus with a renewed spring in my step.
“Jazmine, just calling to check on you. Everything okay?” Magnus’s voice says, as I pick up on the second ring.
“Everything’s great,” I reply cheerfully. In fact, it’s more than great.
“What are you up to? Anything interesting?”
Oh, nothing much. Just finished blowing up Raphael St. Tristan’s car.
“Just going to class,” I reply innocently and I’m glad he can’t see the shit-eating grin on my face.
I’m still wearing the same shit-eating grin all through first period physics and second period algebra. I can tell from the way that Dani is eyeing me, that she’s totally confused by my sudden good mood.
“You seem … awfully cheerful this morning,” she says tentatively, as we pack up at the end of algebra.
“Do I?” I reply innocently.
“I would’ve thought that you’d be upset. I heard that Raph threw you in the pool at last night’s party. In front of everyone.”
The memory still makes my blood simmer, but it’s hard to stay angry when I’m still feeling the high of my earlier act of revenge. All morning I’ve been half expecting Raph to come bursting through the classroom door and to drag me outside by the hair to face a public firing squad. But it doesn’t happen, so I let myself ride the wave of post-revenge satisfaction for a while longer.
