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

by Rachel M Raithby

  “I just want to sleep. To forget…. I just need to forget,” she whispers shakily.

  A soft knock sounds seconds later and my mom appears in the doorway.

  “I’ll be right back,” I tell Rose, before straightening and going to the door.

  “What’s happened?” my mother questions, looking from me to Rose’s hunched figure.

  Nodding for her step back out, I close the door to before facing my mom. “She was raped, or nearly raped. I’m not sure…. I’m not sure if I got to her in time.” I pull at my hair. “Damn it, I hope I got to her on time.”

  Taking my hand, my mother’s sad eyes meet mine. “Ash, have you taken her to a hospital? If she’s been raped, things need to happen so that whoever did this can be found and held responsible.” Her fingers brush over my bruised, bloodstained knuckles.

  “I found him, Mom. Grayson is taking care of it now.”

  “Darling, there are some things in life that aren’t for you and Gray to fix.”

  Letting out a breath, I remove myself from her touch. “I love her, Mom. She just wants to sleep. All of that can wait until the morning.”

  “Evidence might not wait until morning, Ash,” she pushes gently.

  My stomach twists when I realize what she means, and I swallow the bile that rises into my throat. “I don’t know if he got that far. I… I can’t ask her that.”

  She touches my cheek. “Where’s her mother, Ashton?”

  “She wanted to come here, Mom. Her mother, she’s not like you.”

  Her smile is tight, sad. “Go help her change,” she instructs, handing over the silk pajamas in her arms. “I’ll go make some tea and then maybe she’ll talk to me.”

  Wrapping my arms around my mom, I give in to the sudden urge to hug her and breathe in the reassuring scent of home. She might not be perfect and she may be an alcoholic, but my mom has always been there for me when it matters the most, and a single hug from her has given me the strength to get through the rest of what is to come.

  Chapter 37

  Rose

  When Ashton returns, he silently pulls me to my feet and gently undresses me. I stare straight ahead, ashamed, broken, unable to look at his face for fear of what I might find. I’m numb, but so full of emotion I could scream. But if I do, if I give in to the tornado inside me, I’ll not return. I’ll lose myself—become a screeching, uncontrollable, feral creature. So, I don’t speak. I don’t feel. I absently step out of my ruined dress, lift my arms to let Ashton slip his mother’s silk pajama top onto my body, and hold back my sob as he lowers my torn panties and pulls pajama bottoms on in their place.

  My every movement hurts, reminding me of where Declan has been. His fingers rough and angry, bruising my insides, his grip on my limbs callous and uncaring, already forming purple shadows over my skin.

  When his mother returns, I’m not sure what I expected to find on her face, but it isn’t the warm smile and loving tenderness in her hazel eyes.

  “I brought you some tea,” she says gently. “Help her into bed, Ash. And then if you go into my bathroom, you’ll find some makeup remover in my vanity.”

  Ashton does as she asks, pulling back his sheets and then scooping me up into his arms before placing me gently on the bed. The duvet he tucks around my waist smells of him, and the safety that brings me draws more tears from my eyes. He hesitates, eyes darting from me to his mother, clearly not sure if he should follow her other instruction.

  Taking a deep breath, I focus fully on his gaze, bracing myself for the pity I dread I’ll find, but when we connect, all I find is love. Unbreakable, undeniable love.

  What have we been doing? All the games… when all we ever needed was right in front of us.

  “Go. I’ll be okay.”

  He places a kiss to my forehead and then I’m alone with his mother.

  “I knew my son loved you even at thirteen,” she says, placing a cup of milky tea into my hands. “I worried when you left that he’d never find that kind of love again. He was heartbroken for so long. But it seems you’ve found your way back to each other.”

  This is what real mums are, I think absently as I stare into her eyes, sipping the tea. My bruised, battered psyche flickers to hold on.

  “Rose,” she begins, her change in tone locking my windpipe. “There’s no easy way to say this so I’m just going to get it over with. If he forced himself inside you, the evidence you will need might not wait until morning.”

  Evidence…. But they won’t find anything, though it feels as if I might live with the echo of his fingers hurting me forever.

  The cup shakes in my hands, and I have to give it back to her for fear of spilling the contents. Balling my fists, I stare into my lap as I answer, “He never got that far. It was just his fingers…. Ash and Gray… they… they stopped him.”

  Taking my hand, she squeezes gently. “There might be other evidence, bites, skin under your nails….”

  Gulping, I force my tears to not fall as the memory of him pressing his finger to the bleeding scratch I caused enters my mind. For a second, I contemplate it; retelling my story, answering the questions, facing judgment… being showered in shame, and for all my efforts, it’s most likely he’ll walk away. He’s done it once. There’s no guarantee he won’t get away with it a second time.

  “I don’t want to go to the police, Summer. I just want to forget. To sleep… and forget.”

  Ashton returns, interrupting our conversation. He holds a bottle of liquid in one hand and the biggest bag of cotton wool balls I’ve ever seen in the other. The sight draws a smile to my lips.

  “I… I didn’t know how many you’d need so I brought them all.” He shrugs, holding the items higher.

  His mother laughs softly, and I find myself joining her, shocked I’m even capable of such a thing.

  Standing, his mum looks down at me and then gives me my tea back. “If you want to talk, I’m here. But for now, I‘ll leave you in the capable hands of my son.” On her way out, she places one cupped hand to his cheek briefly before disappearing into the hall and closing the door softly behind her.

  Silence descends on us after her departure, but Ashton doesn’t seem to mind. After finishing my cup of tea, I use his bathroom, removing my makeup, trying not to notice the way its runs, smudged across my face. Then, stealing the one and only toothbrush, I scrub my teeth before returning to his bed.

  He sits up from where he was laid back beside the spot I’d exited, a thousand questions in the depths of his eyes. He’s worried, afraid, unsure what I need, and if I’m honest, I’m not sure what I need either.

  I just want to forget. To close my eyes and drift into oblivion.

  When I wince as I climb onto the mattress, his gaze darkens. “You’re in pain. He hurt you.” I hear the unspoken words he doesn’t voice. I should have killed him.

  Laying down, I take his hand and wrap it around my middle. “You’ll do me no good locked up for murder, Ash. Just hold me. Hold me and make me feel safe.”

  “You are safe,” he whispers, settling down beside me, the duvet the only barrier between us. “I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.”

  His words enter my mind and collide with Declan’s that haunt me on repeat.

  “He said he wanted to ruin me,” I whisper roughly, my throat tight. “Make it so that you’d never want to touch me again.”

  Sitting up, Ashton turns my face so that our noses are centimeters apart. “There is nothing he could have done to make me not want you, Rose. Do you hear me? Nothing.”

  “I feel ruined, Ash,” I sob. “Dirty, used.”

  His hands envelop my face, his eyes bore into mine, alive with emotion. “I’ve made so many mistakes, Rose, but the one thing I got right was falling in love with you. You aren’t ruined, baby. You’re a survivor. From the moment you arrived in Manhattan, you’ve fought against everything in your path and you’ll do the same again with this.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

&n
bsp; He smiles. “Because I know you, and I know that you’re the most beautiful, brave girl I’ve ever met, and I love you. Get some sleep, sweetheart. You’ll feel so much better in the morning.”

  Closing my eyes, I’m surprised when I begin to drift straight away. I’m tired in so many ways, weighed down by the burdens of my life. But with Ashton’s body nestled close to mine, my mind is reassuringly quiet and at last, I find peace, my final words floating from me with a trance-like quality.

  “Ash?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I love you too.”

  ***

  Fingers grip my face, thrust into my core, burning and tearing. I scream, but no sound comes out, and his laugher, his joy fills my head, echoing, torturing, far worse than any pain he could inflict on my body.

  “Ash!” I wake, yelling, sweat coating my skin, heart a beating drum in my ears.

  “You’re safe. You’re safe.”

  The bed dips, but it’s not Ashton who gently takes my hand, but Grayson, his features highlighted by the warm glow of a lamp sat on the bedside table.

  “Gray?”

  “Ashton’s in the shower. He won’t be long, Rose. I had to force him to leave as it is, but I thought it was best he got himself cleaned up.”

  He opens his arms for me, and I go willingly, closing my eyes as I do. “What did you do to him?” I ask quietly, not really sure I want to know.

  “Made sure he can’t weasel his way out of it this time. Whether you chose to press charges or not, that’s up to you. But either way, Rose, he’ll pay, and you’ll never have to see him again.”

  “But, school… how?” I sit up, meeting his dark chocolate eyes.

  “I made sure his mother knew just what he’d done, and she agreed it was best he does not attend our school again. Though never stepping foot in the city again, she wasn’t too keen on. But I can be persuasive when I want too.”

  “My mother?” I whisper.

  “The wicked witch knows. Caused quite a scene on your behalf, as I am sure you can imagine. Also screamed rather unladylike in the lobby below when I made sure she was refused entry to the hotel.”

  Laughter bubbles up my throat, springing free, and I hug Grayson tighter. “Thank you. I don’t have the strength to face her right this minute.”

  He runs a hand through my short hair. “Take all the time you need. And if you want to talk to the police, my father has connections; it might make the process easier.”

  I’m already shaking my head. “I just want to forget. I don’t want to keep reliving it.”

  “Whatever you want.” He smiles as light spills into the room from the doorway.

  “You’re awake,” Ashton murmurs, approaching the bed. His hair is freshly washed and dark with moisture. His chest is bare and a single white towel wraps around his waist.

  My mouth goes dry, feelings I wasn’t sure I’d feel again, blooming in my belly.

  He notices my eyes on his waist. “Erm… I’ll just go get dressed.”

  Grayson chuckles, touches my cheek lightly and slips off the bed. “I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

  “Thanks, Gray,” I call. “Thanks for everything.”

  “Any time, Keeley.” He winks, flashes me a signature smirk, and in that moment, with lust for Ash swirling through my veins and laughter in my heart as I gaze at Grayson’s grin, I’m okay. I’m not broken. I wasn’t nearly raped.

  Chapter 38

  Rose

  It takes me days to build up the courage to leave the penthouse and return home. It doesn’t stop my mother from trying to reach me though, but true to his word, Grayson keeps me safe locked in his ivory tower, the wicked witch banned from our kingdom.

  When I finally do see her, I’m not sure what to say and the mumbled apology she throws my way doesn’t seem significant enough to fix what has been damaged between us. In the end, we settle back into our old routine of living two separate lives under one roof. Indifferent, far apart, nowhere near the mother and daughter we once were.

  Seven days I give myself to avoid school. I mope. I cry. I scream. I allow every emotion to roll through me, welcome it, sit with it, and then somehow, when Ashton hugs me at the end of the day, it all fades away.

  Penelope kept to her word, making up excuses for my absence, and offered her shoulder to cry on and drank bottles of tequila on an evening to drown my sorrows. Having her to talk to has been a lifesaver for me. I’m able to tell her the things I can’t tell Ashton. Give her my nightmares and shame without worrying she’ll leave my side later that day on a hunt to kill the boy who caused all my suffering.

  But the truth is, Declan wasn’t the only one that put me in this dark place. He was the final straw on my already quivering back. The final blow that sent me to my knees.

  Yet as I walk back through the halls of Albany Nightingale, Ashton’s hand tight in mine, and Grayson towering threateningly on my left side, I realize that even though I was broken, stripped to the final threads of my sanity, I’ve never felt more like a queen.

  Declan wanted to ruin me, tarnish me for all the others to come, but he didn’t succeed. I’m here, head held high, my king and prince by my side.

  And the crown… it’s never felt so right.

  The questions though, they never quite stop coming. Even if they aren’t voiced, I see them in the quiet depths of my court’s eyes. Declan has vanished, taken away by his mother, contact to his friends cut off. It’s as if he was never here. Except he was, and everyone in the school knows it.

  Two weeks have passed when the truth slips quietly from my lips. We’re at the penthouse after Ashton and his team won an away match; the first match they’ve played since Declan disappeared.

  His absence is a ghost that haunts me, and it will never be put to rest until I tell the royalty of Albany the truth. I’ve already seen the knowledge in some of my friend’s eyes; it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. And somewhere along the way, the embarrassment and shame that had silenced me, lifted away.

  “He raped me. That’s why he’s gone…. Declan raped me.” He might never have pushed himself fully inside me, but it makes no difference. His fingers, his words, his vile hatred, they did as much damage.

  A hush of shocked breaths drift around me, the music seeming to dim too. Gazes meet mine, ones I’ve never quite found the time to truly know, but as Ashton puts his arm around me and Grayson smiles proudly across the room, I find I don’t care what they think, because the people who do matter—Pen, Gray, Ash—they’ve been by my side though every horrid moment of the aftermath and they’ll keep being there in the future too.

  “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Porsha whispers, coming over and giving me a hug.

  “What a disgusting asshole,” Camilla adds.

  “Good riddance to bad rubbish then,” Simon grinds out. “I’m sorry, Rose.”

  And surprisingly, not a single person looks at me as if I got what I deserved. it turns out my kingdom isn’t all that crooked after all.

  Chapter 39

  Ashton

  At last I have my girl back where she belongs. The wrong turns, the mistakes and bad blood, it all fades away, leaving us a clear highway into happiness. Except I might have the girl, but the road ahead of me has one last obstacle blocking my way.

  Arthur Bishop.

  The self-proclaimed king of the Upper East-Side, as much as I want to believe he’ll crumble under mine and Grayson’s attack, the arrogant bastard doesn’t plan on going down that easily.

  “This feud ends now, Ashton,” my mother snaps as we climb into the back of the car after another meeting between our lawyers and my stepfather.

  “He was always going to push back, Summer. Try not to worry. I know him. I predicted this,” Grayson answers for me.

  My only answer is rage and I’m still struggling with the leftover fury Declan’s attack caused, so I don’t dare open my mouth.

  “You knew he’d do this and still started this war? T
his isn’t a game, boys. This is real life and right now, there’s a very real possibility that I’ll lose you all,” my mom answers. It’s been a very long time since I’ve heard such anger and fear in her tone, and I hate Arthur Bishop even more for putting it there.

  “I won’t let that happen,” I murmur, patting my mother’s knee in an attempt to calm her down.

  “You’re sixteen years old, Ashton, a child in the eyes of the world. What are you possibly going to do?” she asks.

  I don’t know.

  “He’s calling our bluff, trying to frighten you into settling. It’s what he does, Summer. Trust me, he’s taught me well. I know every one of his games,” Grayson says.

  Sighing, my mother leans back in her seat, wide eyes on the roof of the car. “I am scared. I am. My children are all I have left in this world and without all of you, there’d be no point to my life anymore.”

  Her words cut me, punch me right in the chest and ignite my determination to end this war. “If this was always going to be his play, what do we do next, Gray?” I ask.

  “Stay the course,” Grayson replies. “He’s expecting us to pull out, but he’s underestimated us. We will not allow fear to change our plans.”

  “How likely is he to have proof she was drinking again?”

  “I can’t see how he knows for sure. The staff I kept on are loyal to me, not him.” His gaze turns thoughtful. “Maybe I’ll have my aunt write her article, send him a nice mockup for his appraisal.” The wicked excitement on his face tells me Grayson loves the power play. It’s a look that is so much like his father’s, but Grayson doesn’t hold the same menace.

  I’m putting my family into his hands, following his advice because this game is way out of my league. It should frighten me, but I trust him.

  “I hope you’re right, Gray. I’m trusting you with this.”

  He takes my mom’s hand as she looks between us with apprehension. “Haven’t you realized by now, brother, I’m fighting for my family too.”