I close my eyes and remember the first time Daddy brought me here for training. I was fourteen, and it was a few months after the event which changed my life.
“This nice man is going to help, buttercup,” Dad said, crouching down in front of me and taking my hands as I cowered from the strange man with the disarming smile. “He’s going to show you how to fight so nothing can ever happen to you again.”
That piqued my interest. “What kind of fighting?” I asked, directing my question at my dad and not the stranger even though it was the stranger who answered.
“We will start with basic fitness and combat training and progress to marksmanship and defensive maneuvering techniques, survival tools, and basic first aid procedures among other aspects. By the time your training is complete, you will be proficient in handling a variety of different weapons and you will be fully competent to protect and defend yourself against any enemy attacks.”
“When do I begin?” I asked without hesitation, my thirst for vengeance already in full flow.
As Diesel’s strong arms wrap around me from behind, I wonder if Dad would still consider him a nice man if he knew all the carnal ways my commander now knows my body.
_______________
I wake a couple of hours later with my face pressed into Diesel’s chest. I lift my head, startled to find he’s still here. We usually have a couple rounds of hot sex, and then he takes off, not lingering for small talk.
We both know what this is.
That it has boundaries and a time limit, and I’m more than okay with that.
I learned how to separate my emotions from the act of sex when I was fifteen and I willingly gave my virginity to the guy I was fake dating at the time.
Back then, I entered into a sexual relationship understanding it wasn’t, and never would be, love, and it helped me approach the physical act as just that. A way of experiencing untold pleasure without looking for anything but an orgasm.
It has stood me well.
I’ve never fallen in love with any of my sexual partners or either of my two previous boyfriends.
Both those relationships served a different purpose anyway.
So, if Diesel is still here, it means he wants to talk.
I prop up on one elbow, placing my hand on the solid wall of muscle that is his chest, peering into his eyes. “Did you sleep at all?” I ask, tracing patterns against his skin.
“No.” He runs his hand up and down my back.
“So, you were just watching me like a legit creeper?” I tease, touching the old scar tissue on the left side of his chest.
“Pretty much,” he agrees, offering me a rare smile.
Diesel takes his job very seriously, and it still amazes me that we fell into bed in the first place. After the first session I had with him, post Dad’s death, I was so consumed with grief I pounced on him, and I think he didn’t have it in him to turn me down.
Plus, I’m experienced enough to know how to please a man, and I’m certain he’s enjoyed our illicit trysts even if it battles with that sensible, logical part of his brain.
“You’re so beautiful, Harlow,” he says, placing his hand over my left breast. “And I’m not just talking about the outside. Your inner strength and your indomitable will to survive is the most beautiful thing about you. I wish I was ten years younger so I could be worthy of you.”
I lean down and kiss him, surprised to see so much emotion swirling in the depths of his pale-blue eyes. “Even if you were, your strict moral code and unrelenting loyalty to your job wouldn’t allow you to permit anything permanent between us. We both know that.”
“My boss, and your dad, would not react well to this.”
“Your boss doesn’t know, and my dad is dead.”
“I’m so much older than you, and you were in mourning. It was wrong to respond to your advances when you were vulnerable.”
I shake my head. “I’m eighteen now, and I know what I’m doing. You helped me that night. You gave me exactly what I needed, and you shouldn’t have any regrets because I don’t.”
“You were only seventeen that first time,” he says, and I see how much he hates himself for taking advantage of me. That’s how he sees it in his head, and nothing I say will likely change his mind.
“It was still legal, and you didn’t force me into anything. Don’t beat yourself up over it.” This is becoming too heavy, and I avoid that shit like the plague. I ease out from under his arm, dropping flat on my back. I stare at the stark-white ceiling as I pull the sheet up over my naked chest. “And it’s only sex. We can stop this at any time.” I turn my head to his, cupping his stubbly cheek, smiling at him with genuine affection. “My heart isn’t invested, Diesel. You won’t hurt me. I’ll miss the sex, but it won’t break me.”
Not much does anymore.
Although my dad’s death came close to it.
He stares deep into my eyes. “Sometimes, I think your dad was so wrong. That we took it too far. That we’ve taken too much from you.”
“You weren’t the ones who took from me, and I have no regrets,” I lie. I can’t admit the truth to anyone, because saying it out loud will only make my suspicion too real. I need to fix it first before I can even begin to come to terms with the consequences of my actions.
That’s the end of our conversation, and quite possibly, this is the last time I’ll watch Diesel getting dressed in my bedroom.
But I’m okay with that.
This isn’t fun if I know he’s suffering a moral crisis every time we tango between the sheets.
I signed up for uncomplicated sex and multiple orgasms. If that’s no longer all that’s on the table, then I want no part of it. It’s better we end like this before his doubts ruin something good and true. There is no shortage of willing bodies to share my bed, and I won’t go without.
He kisses me passionately at the bottom of the stairs, and as goodbye kisses go, it’s pretty damn impressive. I stay in place, watching him walk across the cabin to the door. He stops with his hand on the door handle, talking to me without turning around. “I know we only communicate to confirm our sessions, but you know how to reach me.” He glances over his shoulder, his expression fiercely determined. “If you need my help, at any time, you only need to ask and I’m there.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “You’re a good man, Diesel.”
A pained look washes over his face, and I know he doesn’t agree, but it’s exactly that sentiment which confirms my statement. Any other hot-blooded male wouldn’t turn down no-strings-attached sex with a younger woman, but Diesel is a decent guy, and he won’t use me for sex.
I watch the security cameras, waiting until I see his car exit the gates of the compound, before I head into the study.
I open the secret panels in the floor, removing the sturdy black box and placing it on top of the desk. I tap in the code on the panel of the box, unlocking the lid and retrieving the stack of files there. Then, I take out my hardback notepad and pick up where I left off last month.
I’m determined to crack the secret code the files are written in. Because I know the truth I seek is somewhere in here, and I won’t rest until I’ve uncovered it.
CHAPTER 2
“YOUR FATHER WOULD never have tolerated this,” Mom says. I nurse a cup of steaming black coffee while picking at the shriveled eggs and incinerated strips of bacon she made for breakfast. I want to eat it, because I know she’s trying, but I’ve never been a breakfast lover. I’m never hungry first thing, and Mom knows this. But I shovel another mouthful down, not wanting to offend her.
“I know, but he’d back down if he knew I wasn’t unhappy about it,” I say, sipping my coffee as I watch Mom studiously. She’s pacing the kitchen, looking put together on the outside, but something’s nagging at her. And I don’t think it’s the fact I’ve been gone all weekend “camping” or that I got expelled from Lowell Academy over a sex tape.
“What’s going on with you?” I ask, pushing my half
-eaten plate away.
She stops pacing. “What do you mean?” She runs her fingers through her wavy hair in a clear tell.
“You’re agitated.”
“I’m just concerned for you. Starting senior year at a new school is a big deal. Especially a public school when all you’ve been used to is private. It will be a big culture shock, honey.”
If she knew I’d been slumming it with Darrow and his Prestwick High crowd for half a year, and that I’ve seen and heard things that would turn her prematurely gray, she wouldn’t be half as worried.
I shrug, tossing my hair over my shoulders. “Not to me it isn’t.” I stand, taking my plate and scraping it into the trash. “Sariah and Sean attend Lowell High. They have less archaic rules. And no one knows me there.”
That last part isn’t the full truth, because the video went viral, and now, everyone in my new school thinks they know who I am before they’ve even met me. But I don’t want Mom worrying unnecessarily. She’s been a basket case since Dad’s fatal car accident, and it’s felt like I’ve lost both parents.
But I’ve noticed a difference this past month. She’s not locking herself in her room crying all the time. She’s been going out. Heading into the office and taking an active role in managing her successful advertising agency. Meeting up with friends at night. And she’s started to pay attention to her appearance again which is how I know she’s beginning to heal.
Giana Westbrook, a.k.a. my mother, is drop dead gorgeous. According to Dad, he had to fight off competition to win her heart back in the day, and he was always fending off would-be admirers.
I can see why.
Even at forty, she is stunning. Tall with long dark hair, piercing green eyes, and a figure most supermodels would kill for, she looks twenty years younger and could easily pass for my sister. She often does, which is something Dad always got a kick out of.
He used to say I was the mirror image of her, and he always showered me with compliments, but I’m a pragmatist. I might share the same height, the same hair, and the same eye color, but that’s where the similarities end. I’m curvier with bigger boobs which, when combined with my slim lower body, make me look like I’m about to topple over all the time. And, where Mom has this gorgeous heart-shaped face and delicate porcelain skin, I have Dad’s round shape and his facial features with fuller lips, olive-toned complexion, and less defined cheekbones.
I know I’m pretty, but I’m not in Mom’s league. Which is fine by me, because I loathe attention.
“You have your dad’s confidence and self-belief,” she says, gently cupping my cheek. “Nothing ever fazed him either.”
“You have self-confidence and belief too,” I reassure her, because you don’t build a multimillion-dollar business from the ground up without those qualities.
“I didn’t possess those traits at your age. I’m not sure I’d have been capable of enduring what you’ve endured these past few months.” She reels me into a hug. “I’m proud of you, honey.”
I ease out of her arms, staring at her with my mouth trailing the tile floor. “You’re proud of me for making a sex tape?”
“That’s not what I meant.” She sighs, tucking my hair behind my ears. “I’m not pleased my little girl had a foursome with three guys, but I’m more enraged that those assholes recorded it without your knowledge and then enabled that scumbag to distribute it to everyone at school. I still think we should have sued them.”
I gave Mom scant details on purpose. She knows the tape exists. That I had consensual sex but wasn’t aware it was being recorded. I didn’t tell her the guys were The Sainthood, and I didn’t tell her the scumbag who shared it online was my scumbag ex. I know she won’t watch it, and she’s better off not knowing the truth.
Although, if she knew, she’d understand better.
You don’t sue The Sainthood and live to tell the tale.
Dad always said we had to protect Mom, and that hasn’t ended just because he’s no longer here to fulfil his part of the bargain.
I love my mom, and I’m always going to look out for her.
She’s a big part of the reason why I’m not letting it go.
The other is the fact I’m hurtling toward a destiny I don’t want and the only way to halt it is to act first.
I need to keep her safe, and unraveling the truth is the only way to ensure it.
Dad is gone, but the mission isn’t over. Not even close to it.
“I’m not having my sex life hauled through the courts or being forced to sit in some lawyer’s office, facing any of those assholes, while pricks in suits pick my character apart. And it would’ve only prolonged the whole situation. It’s died down now, and we got it removed from the internet,” I say, purely to appease her.
I’m not naïve. Once it’s out there, it’s accessible forever and ever. Just talk to Kim K. Although, at least, she found a way of profiting from it.
I know tons of guys must’ve downloaded it and are probably regularly jerking off to it, but there isn’t anything I can do about that now, so I refuse to lose sleep over it.
What’s more upsetting is the number of guys hitting on me now. The suggestive comments from the guys, and the slurs from the girls, roll over my head like water falling over a cliff’s edge, but being pawed at, stared at, messaged at all hours of the day and night, and followed around the school halls pisses me off to no end.
So, no, I’m not sorry to be leaving my snobby academy school behind.
Although, I’m under no illusions. I know my rep precedes me at Lowell High, but Sariah and Sean have been working on damage control, and I’m hoping it won’t be as bad there.
Even if it is, I’ve only got to survive another ten months before I can wave sayonara to this shithole town.
“You’re probably right.” She glances at the clock. “You should go. You don’t want to be late your first day.”
I grab my Prada backpack from the table and snatch up my jacket.
“You’re sure you want to wear that?” Mom asks, and I know I’m offending her uber-feminine proclivities with my tight ripped jeans, scuffed boots, and off-the-shoulder sweater complete with battered leather jacket.
“Yep,” I say, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl. I tuck it in the front pocket of my bag. “It’s great not having to wear that stuffy uniform.”
Her tongue darts out, and she wets her lightly glossed lips. “Well, have a good day, and let’s talk when you come home.”
_______________
I swing by Sariah’s grandma’s place fifteen minutes later to pick her up. “Oh, boy,” she says, buckling her seat belt. “Rocking up in this car is just asking for trouble.”
“They can bite me.” I shrug, easing my SUV back out onto the road.
I’m not changing who I am to fit in, and this car was the last gift from my father. I remember how adamant he was that I drive this and not the Gran Turismo Sport that’s my favorite of his flashy cars.
She throws back her head, laughing. “Have I told you how cool it is that you go to my school now?”
I grin as I honk my horn at two asshats crossing the road directly in front of me, as if there isn’t a car waiting to mow them down. “Maybe once or a thousand times.”
Her azure eyes pin mine in place. “Seriously, though. I’m so fucking excited for senior year now, and that’s all thanks to you.”
“I’m sure a certain six-foot-four football player has something to do with it too,” I tease.
“To be honest, I wish Sean didn’t go to Lowell High. It’d make things easier.”
“Hey.” I reach out and squeeze her knee. “If any of those cheerleaders even look funny at you this year, they’ll have me to answer to.”
Sariah and Sean started dating a year ago, much to the disgust of the cheerleading squad, and most of Sean’s teammates, according to my bestie. A few of the girls threatened her, and when that didn’t work, they resorted to pushing her around. But my girl knows how to defend herself.<
br />
We’ve both been attending kickboxing classes downtown for the past two years. I only started attending so I had an explanation for my defensive skills. But it’s come to mean so much more to me. The classes keep me fit, and they help to alleviate stress. It’s also how I met Sariah, and we became instant best friends.
Still, no amount of skill can help if it’s ten on one, and Sariah’s taken a few beatings. She’s a loner, like me, so she had no one to back her up. At least now, I’ll be there. And it’s not like I need much incentive to get involved. The pent-up rage inside me has grown even worse since Dad died. Now, I’m constantly battling a wild inferno that blazes out of control inside me, and I grasp any opportunity to uncage the beast with both hands.
“I have a feeling they have a new target this year.” We share a look.
“How bad is it?” I ask.
“You’re all anyone is talking about. I’ve heard the usual bullshit from the guys, and the girls’ claws are already drawn. Sean has spread the word around, but he’s not sure if it’s enough.”
“If he couldn’t keep the bottom-feeders away from his beloved girlfriend, I doubt he’s had any more success defending me, but I appreciate he tried.” I squeeze her knee again. “Don’t worry. I know how to take care of myself. It’ll be cool.”
“Watch out for Parker Brooks,” Sariah warns as I take the turn that will lead us to the school.
“She’s the reigning queen bee, right?” I signal and pull off onto the road.
“Yes, and she’s also dating Finn Houston. He leads the crew that controls Lowell High.”
“I know who Finn is.” I had sex with him one time at a party a couple years ago. We were high, drunk, and horny. A lethal combination that almost always ends with marathon sex.
Here’s hoping he doesn’t remember because I don’t want to make an instant enemy of his girlfriend. My agenda is too important, and I don’t need additional distractions.
The Sainthood : A Dark High School Romance (The Complete Series) Page 4
