The Resurrection of Us: A High School Bully Romance (Albany Nightingale Duet Book 2)

by Rachel M Raithby

  “I find rage is best left to boil. Packs more of a punch that way,” I reply, my tone as cold as my expression.

  “Yes, quite so.” He smirks. “And yet, I still won’t be bending over to your every demand.” He picks up the proposal Grayson and I put together and slaps at the papers. “Some of the things on here are preposterous. Maybe I’d give up the Hamptons, but if you think I’m giving you the cottage in France, you’re more stupid than you look.”

  His eyes scan the documents and, as his eyes widen, I wonder if Arthur has actually spent the time to even read what we put forward or if he was that arrogant that he didn’t even bother, thinking he was untouchable.

  Silence hangs in the air. I hold my tongue, allow him to read on, knowing the minutes are ticking by and soon Grayson will be here delivering our final blow. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, an excitement I’ve never experienced before; I’m finally beginning to understand why Grayson does this. There’s a heady, almost powerful energy surging through me, which could quickly become an addiction.

  “What need would you have with eighteenth-century china, Ashton?” Arthur laughs. “And you’ve added paintings here too. One would think you weren’t into sports at all considering this list.”

  I wait, knowing soon he’ll come across his son’s name and when he does, his gaze snaps up, the first sign of anger showing, but Arthur zeroes in on Summer, not me. “If you think my son is coming to live with you, then you’re delusional, Summer.”

  “Why not? He’s living with me at this moment anyway,” Summer answers, her voice quiet but steady. “I’d provide him with a far more loving environment than you ever could.”

  “That’s rich,” Arthur scoffs. “Coming from an alcoholic. Tell me, Summer, when was the last time you had a drink, hmm? Maybe Josh would be better in my hands away from his unstable mother?”

  I’d warned my mom about this. Told her to lie at all costs; Arthur cannot know she’s been drinking again. My heart stalls. The room seems to collectively hold its breath.

  “I haven’t had a drink since I met you and you helped me heal from my late husbands’ death,” she replies with the air of someone who grew up surrounded by socialites.

  I make a mental note to congratulate my mother on her performance later. “I think that’s enough of this chitchat, don’t you?” I cut in, drawing Arthur’s attention to me. “You’ve got my mother’s proposed settlement and you’ll agree to it, Arthur, or this footage won’t stay safe in my hands.”

  Arthur’s lawyer leans into his side, murmuring something I can’t hear. They have a quick near-silent conversation before Arthur turns back to me, his arrogant smile back in place. “You’ve forgotten one thing, son. I’ve already silenced the story, having the original file voids the prenup, but it doesn’t mean you have me wrapped around your little finger.”

  “I beg to differ, Father.” Grayson saunters into the room, looking every bit the wealthy king’s son, except for his eyes. Grayson must have inherited them from his mother, and today they are alive with life and mischief. He fills the room, commands attention, and my blood dances in response, heart kicking up with delight. This is it. This is the moment I’ve been dreaming of.

  “I should have known you were behind this,” Arthur seethes, getting to his feet. “Well, I’m here now, you’ve got my attention, son, the tantrum can stop.”

  “I’m no child, Father, and from this moment on, I’ll never be your son again.” Grayson slams his own proposal on the table. “These are my terms to add along with Summer’s and if you don’t agree to every single one, you’ll find the San Francisco Chronicle running a nice little story on New York’s top businessman. “‘Wealthy New Yorker Sleeps With Minor and Gets Away With It‘ has a nice ring to it, don’t you think? I wonder… will your money be able to silence the story if the police have no choice but to get involved?”

  “I won’t be threatened by you. You’ve got a lot to learn, Grayson, if you think some random newspaper is just going to run a story because you have a little footage.”

  Arthur Bishop, up his own ass until the end.

  Walking to Grayson’s side, I smile at my brother. “Shall I tell him or you?” I ask lightly, as if the tension in the room isn’t thick enough to cut with a knife. Arthur’s lawyer is whispering urgently in his ear, but Arthur is too far gone. His anger has got the better of him and he’s running headfirst to his own doom.

  “I think I’ll do the honors,” Grayson answers. “After all, she is my aunt.”

  I’ve never liked Grayson’s devilish charm more than I do in that moment.

  “Aunt?” Arthur rasps, fear at last clouding his gaze.

  “Oh yes, did you really think I’d never find her? Admittedly, it took longer than I would have liked, making her change her name was a good move, but if you’d wanted her silenced forever, you should have killed her, like you did my mother.”

  Summer gasps. Anthony splutters and Arthur falls silent, his condescending demeanor floundering.

  “This meeting is over,” Arthur’s lawyer announces, dragging Arthur from the room.

  “Goodbye, Father,” Grayson sniggers. “Been pleasant doing business with you.”

  “Well shit,” Anthony growls. “Next time you boys decide to take over my job, a little heads-up would be nice.”

  Clapping him on the back, I reply, “I’m hoping there won’t be a next time.”

  Grayson laughs darkly. “I quite enjoyed that. I wouldn’t mind a second round.”

  “Are you all right, Mom?” I ask, taking the seat next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

  “I’m not all that sure, actually,” she mumbles. “I wasn’t expecting you two to do that.”

  “He needed to pay, Mom. For more than what he did to you.”

  Nodding, she climbs shakily to her feet and makes her way over to Grayson. Gray watches her with an unreadable expression, but as her arms wrap around him, surprise sparks in his brown depths. “I’m so sorry about your mother, Gray. She’d be very proud of the man you’ve become.”

  His arms soften, his face filling with warmth, and I witness Grayson truly accept my mom for the first time. “Thank you, Summer,” he whispers, hugging her tightly. “I like to think she’s pleased I have you to help me find my way.”

  Pulling back, she touches his cheek. “I’m not sure it was me who did that. You found your way in your own time.” Stepping back, she takes me in. “And you, I think your father would be a little shocked. Try not to grow up too fast, hey.”

  I laugh. “Shall we go home?”

  “Yes. Take some time to regroup and I’ll be in touch,” Anthony adds. “I’m sure Arthur’s lawyers will be in contact in the next day or two, and don’t be surprised if he doesn’t agree to everything you’ve asked for.”

  Stepping forward, Grayson shakes Anthony’s hand. “I expected that. It’s why I’ve arranged for my aunt to call him in a couple of days, remind him just how much hate she has for him.”

  Anthony shakes his head. “Kid, you’re going to make a ruthless lawyer one day.”

  Grayson’s responding grin splits his face. “Why, thank you. It’s just what I intend to do.”

  “What exactly did you give to your father anyway?” Anthony asks.

  “The standard. Rights to my trust fund, shares in Bishop Enterprises, and an increase on my allowance. Little things.”

  Leaving Anthony with his shocked expression and laughter, the three of us head out of his office and into the elevator.

  “So just like that we won?” my mother asks timidly.

  “Just like that?” Grayson laughs. “Summer, that took some digging and planning. I’ve been searching for my aunt for years and when I found her, I had to wait for the perfect opportunity to use her.”

  “She’s your family, Grayson. You shouldn’t use her,” my mother scolds.

  “My mother killed herself and she took my father’s money and disappeared like he asked her too. Family doesn’t
abandon family.”

  Touching his shoulder, I meet Grayson’s gaze, silently telling him we won’t abandon him. He nods in return.

  “I suppose you’re right, but still, I’m sure it wasn’t her choice,” my mom answers sadly.

  The elevator opens on the ground floor and we pile out, heading onto the street into the awaiting car Taylor has idling by the curb.

  “Maybe, yet as a child I didn’t care for the details. I was alone,” Grayson says as he slides onto the black leather seats.

  “You have us now,” she reassures, getting in after him. “I feel like we should celebrate.” Mom smiles.

  God, it’s good to see her happy again. Please, let it last. “Let’s spring Josh first, then we’ll show Gray how Cole’s party.” I grin, shutting the car door. Memories of pizza and laughter fill my mind.

  “We haven’t been there since….” My mom’s eyes fill with longing.

  “I know.” …we left Brooklyn.

  But it’s time we went back.

  It’s time we remembered where we come from, because without the wealth and the glitter of Manhattan, all that’s left is the bare bones of who we are. And often what’s beneath it all, isn’t that pretty. Mine, though, is family. It’s my mom, my little brother, and now Grayson. It’s my love, my loyalty, and my undying need to keep them safe.

  Chapter 25

  Rose

  “You say we’re here for Declan, but you haven’t taken your eyes off Ashton since he ran onto the field.”

  Glancing at Penelope’s knowing smile, I shake my head. “Shut up, Pen.”

  She giggles. “Honestly, I don’t blame you. He’s the far better-looking one out of the two.” She fans herself dramatically, and I join her in her laughter.

  We’re about twenty minutes from the end of a home match, and Penelope’s right. I haven’t been able to stop myself from watching Ashton. He plays with an effortless air, as if what he’s doing isn’t difficult at all. Sweat gleams on his skin, highlighted by the floodlights lighting the field. Our team’s winning by a few points, and when the ball lands in Ashton’s arms, he’s sprinting up the pitch, dodging his opponents, causing the crowd to cheer his name. My heart pounds, hands coming to my mouth as I shoot to my feet, Penelope’s beside me shouting his name, but she isn’t locked in his spell, isn’t holding her breath waiting for Ashton’s magic to unfold.

  The opposing team leap for him, players are tackled, boys hitting the ground everywhere as Ashton runs, the ball tight in his arms, each taut muscle budging with strength drying my throat. No one draws me like he does, no one insights such wanton lust and desire. God, how have I gone this long without having his lips on mine?

  Reaching the end zone, Ashton dives, scoring a touchdown as the people around us erupt into deafening cheers. Springing to his feet, he jumps into the air with a punch, the grin on his face wide and addictive.

  Ashton told me he didn’t love playing. He told me it was easy to him but not a passion, but as his gaze looks up and somehow finds mine in the crowd, there is no denying the satisfaction he gets from hearing his name chanted as if he’s a god.

  Smiling, I shout his name, along with the others around me, our eyes locked as if no one else is here. Time stops, the noise fades, and my breath restarts in a loud gasp. His teammates plow into him, lifting Ashton off his feet and still he keeps his sights on me as he laughs and winks, all charm and confidence.

  “You guys should just fuck already,” Penelope says, elbowing me. “You’re practically doing it with your eyes already anyway.”

  “Pen!” I warn, elbowing her back. “Watch the game, will you!”

  “I am.” She grins. “All of the players in fact… well, the good-looking ones at least. Sawyer sure can play, but boy is he ugly.”

  Taking our seats, we smile at one another. “Terrible,” I answer.

  “It’s true,” she defends.

  “It is.” I nod, attempting to be solemn.

  “So, Ashton?” she prompts.

  “I think you meant to say Declan.” Searching the field, I find him amongst the players, and I must admit he doesn’t look all that shabby. He’s a great player and he’s built for the sport; it’s just a shame his personality leaves something to be desired.

  “If you say so,” she mutters.

  For the rest of the match, I force myself to watch Declan play. The ball lands in his arms several times, and he does a good job dodging the opposing teams and making sure it gets into the right hands to score. By the end, Albany is up by four and the cheers are deafening, mine included. With Penelope by my side, we make our way down off the bleachers, and I wave at Declan as he catches my eye with a grin.

  “Are we waiting for him then?” Penelope asks.

  “Yes, I promised him I’d go with him after the game. Simon and a few others are coming too, so you can come. In fact, let’s text the girls and make it a party.” The more people I have there, the bigger the buffer between me and Declan, because the last thing I want is him thinking he can get me alone in a room. “And, Pen?”

  “Yeah?” she asks, looking up from her phone.

  “Don’t leave my side tonight, okay?”

  Studying me, my shoulders droop when I think she’s going to question me. But she doesn’t. “You know, Rose, if you explained what it is you’re doing exactly with Dec, then I might be able to help.”

  The explanation is on the tip of my tongue. I like Penelope, I want to be true friends, but after what happened with Isla, I’m reluctant to trust her fully. It’s safer to only rely on myself. At least then there’s no one to let me down.

  “Maybe later,” I lie. “There’s too many people about.”

  “Okay.” She sighs. “Wait out front for me? I’m going to use the toilet.”

  Making my way out, I’m passing the back of the bleachers, the exit up ahead when someone wraps an arm around my waist and lifts me off my feet. A scream leaves my throat, but it’s blocked by the hand over my mouth, and as I fight, a voice whispers in my ear, causing goose bumps to break out over my skin.

  “It’s me, Rose.”

  Going slack, Ashton carries me away from the crowd and under the darkness of the bleachers. The moment my feet hit the ground, he’s turning me around and pressing his lips to mine. I melt into him, pulling him closer as the desire that’s been building the entire football game rushes to the forefront of my mind. His mouth demands all I have to give as he roams my body, until his hands come to a stop under my short skirt, squeezing my arse. Ashton’s moan fills my mouth, vibrating through my body and tightening my nipples.

  If he’d have stripped me bare and tried to have sex with me, I don’t think I would have stopped him. After all that’s happened between us—the betrayal and hate and disappointment—not once has any of those dark emotions quenched the fire between us. Our bodies were made for one another. They sing the same tune, and as he releases me and slides his hands to my waist, I find it difficult to breathe.

  “Damn.” He huffs in a breath.

  “What was that for?” I ask, panting as I struggle for control.

  “You’ve watched me the entire game, Rose. I felt you on me like a fist around my dick.”

  I gasp, need pooling between my legs.

  “There might be shit between us and I haven’t fixed everything yet, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re mine.” Bending, he kisses me—quick, hot and completely. Holding my face in his hands as he releases me, he says, “When you’re with him tonight, remember this is what it should feel like. Our hearts pounding, our bodies desperate for one another. This magic, Rose, this is what makes us us. This is what makes you mine.”

  “And yet I’m not,” I reply softly, wishing beyond anything that I was. That I didn’t have to play this game, that I could trust him enough to quit my role and fall into his arms. But I don’t. He broke my trust. Broke me.

  Cupping my cheek, Ashton smiles. “Not yet.”

  And then he’s gone. A ghost blendin
g into the shadows. The only evidence he was there the last pulse of pleasure coursing through my veins as a reminder that Ashton Cole will always own my heart.

  ***

  Declan’s beer-drenched breath wafts over me as he leans in close, his hand sliding under the hem of my skirt. Grasping his hand, I stop his travel to my panties and make a mental note to wear jeans from now on.

  “Such a tease,” he murmurs, tipping my chin toward his face and pressing his lips to mine.

  Closing my eyes, I picture Ashton, imagine it’s his mouth and I’m back under the bleachers, not trapped in Simon’s apartment wishing for a good enough excuse to escape. But my body’s not convinced and the shudder rolling through my spine has nothing to do with desire, yet I play along. I push all of my feelings away and become an empty shell performing a meaningless task.

  He means nothing. His kiss means nothing, and at this rate, I’ll mean nothing too. I can’t keep it up. I don’t have it in me to play my role on this tilted stage. My mother’s on her own. Come tomorrow, I’m distancing myself from Declan Moor and finding a way out of this game.

  “Come with me,” he whispers, pushing up against me. He’s had way too much to drink, and even if I wanted to go into another room and do what I know he wants to do, I’m not sure he’d be up for the performance with the way he’s slurring his speech and slumping all over me.

  “Rose!” Penelope squeals as a Taylor Swift song comes onto the speakers. “I love this song. Dance with me!”

  She’s overexaggerating, acting far tipsier than she is, and for that, I’ll be forever grateful.

  “Sorry, babe,” I lie, giving Declan a parting kiss. “My friends come first.”

  Jumping to my feet, Penelope and I get lost to the music, the beat rocking our bodies as we dance together. As she presses up against me, taking hold of my hips, I wonder if Penelope is in fact drunk, but go with it anyway—any excuse to not sit with Declan.

  The song finishes and another starts, but Penelope doesn’t release me, and I make no move to return to Declan’s side. Camilla and Bree soon join us and within minutes, we are a mass of gyrating, scantily clad girls performing to our audience of intoxicated, adrenaline-fueled footballers. Letting go, I lose myself in the feel of the music. It’s fun, bad, and oh so good.