by Laura Lee
LAURA LEE
RUTHLESS KINGS ©2020 Laura Lee
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property.
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
RUTHLESS KINGS (Windsor Academy, #2)
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
ALSO AVAILABLE BY LAURA LEE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Editing by: Ellie McLove of My Brother’s Editor
Cover Design by: Lori Jackson Designs
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
RUTHLESS KINGS IS BOOK two of three in the Windsor Academy series. You must read book one, WICKED LIARS, prior to this installment to follow the story properly.
This is a dark high school bully romance that may contain triggers for sensitive readers. Due to mature content, it is recommended for readers 17+ only.
This book is dedicated to medical professionals around the world. Thank you for your assiduous efforts and sacrifices during this pandemic.
CHAPTER ONE
JAZZ
“Look, Jazz! Dolphins!”
I shield my eyes from the sun as I look where my sister is pointing. Sure enough, there’s a pod of five dolphins playing in the ocean. We’re at the top of the Pacific Place Ferris wheel, so we have an unobstructed view of them riding the waves.
My mom pulls Belle into her side. “What do you think their names are?”
The three of us play this game whenever we spot an animal. Belle insists that all animals have names, even strays or wild ones. My mom waits patiently as she pushes her long, dark hair aside. There’s a light breeze up this high, so she’s continually brushing it away from her face. My hair is in a messy topknot, and Belle wears hers in braids, so we don’t have that problem.
“Hmm...” Belle taps her lips with her index finger, deep in thought. “Sprinkles, Tulip, Petunia, Rainbow Rose, and...Tupac!”
“Do you even know who Tupac is?” Mom’s eyes twinkle in amusement.
“Sure I do,” Belle insists. “Kiara says back in like, the olden days, there was this rapper named Tupac Sugar. Kiara’s mommy grew up listening to his music all the time. Her mama says everyone knows the West Side is the best side!” Belle makes a peculiar hand gesture and somehow stretches that last word into three syllables.
Our mom laughs so hard, tears are welling in her eyes. “Back in the olden days, huh? How old are we talking here?”
“Oh, yeah.” Belle nods her head enthusiastically. “Like, you have to be really, really old to listen to him.”
“Hey!” I protest. “‘California Love’ is one of my go-to old-school jams. I listen to 2Pac, and I’m not old.”
Belle scrunches her little nose. “Uh...yeah, you are. You’re seventeen now. That’s way old.”
I raise my eyebrows. “If I’m so old, what does that make Mom?”
Belle glances up at her. “Really, really, really old. Like the dinosaurs.”
My mom laughs again, tugging on one of Belle’s braids. “Thanks a lot, kid. I can always depend on you to boost my self-esteem when it’s running low.”
There’s an underlying sadness beneath the sarcasm, adding a ring of truth to that statement. I stare at my mom as the wheel descends, wondering how her self-esteem could ever be lacking. Mahalia Rivera is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, inside and out. And she just turned thirty-five, which isn’t old at all. When the ride comes to a stop, we exit the bucket and head down the pier.
Mom loops her arm through mine. “Are you ready for your ice cream, birthday girl?”
I smile, my mom on one arm, and Belle on the other. “I’m read—”
“Eighteen-year-old female with penetrating trauma to the left lower abdomen.”
I spin around, wondering where that yelling is coming from. By the time I’ve made a full circle, my mom and sister are gone.
What the hell?
“Mom? Belle? Where’d you go?”
I shoulder my way through the thick crowd of people, looking for them.
“Mom! Belle! Where are you?”
Where could they have gone? They were just here! I tell myself not to panic, maybe Belle had to pee or something. That girl has a bad habit of waiting until she’s about to wet herself before notifying anyone she has to go. I can’t even tell you how many times we’ve had to jump off the bus early to duck into a public restroom. I keep searching, and the more time goes on, the more anxious I become. I check all the bathrooms and still no luck. I’m in tears as the sun begins to set, still unable to find them.
I run from one end of the pier to the other five times, sweating and panting as I take a moment to catch my breath.
“Mom! Please answer me!”
“Multiple contusions...Lungs are clear.”
Who is that?
As the sun dips below the horizon, I finally spot my mom at the opposite end and start sprinting back in that direction. When I reach her, Belle is nowhere to be found, and she has a bizarre look on her face.
“Mom, what’s wrong? Where’d you go? Where’s Belle?”
She smiles softly, brushing her delicate fingers against my cheek. “I love you so much, Jasmine. I’m proud of the woman you’ve become.”
I place my hand over hers. “Uh...thanks. I love you too, Mom. Where’s Belle?”
“It’s not your time yet.” She pulls her hand away. “You’re so much stronger than I ever was. You have to go back and find the truth. Show the world what monsters they truly are.”
My brows pinch together. “You’re not making sense. You’re the strongest person I know.”
My mother shakes her head, tears streaming down her face. “I’m not. I was terrified they’d take you away from me, so I kept their secrets.”
“Mom, what are you talking about? Who’s keeping secrets? What are they hiding?”
“Everything.” She kisses the tips of her fingers before holding them out in my direction. “It’s time to go back now. I love you, my sweet flower. Always.”
&n
bsp; “Significant blood found on the scene.”
I glance around again, trying to find the owner of the disembodied voice. “Do you hear that?”
My eyes widen when my mom steps onto the metal railing, climbing up to the top bar.
What is she doing?
I start running toward her, wondering how she got so far away.
“Wait!” I say as she begins to wobble. “Mom, get down from there! You’re about to fall!”
“Unconscious...Treated for hypovolemic shock.”
She stretches her arms out wide and glances over her shoulder. “Wake up, Jasmine. It’s time to find the truth.”
"Mom, don't do it!"
By the time I get to the railing, I'm too late. She disappeared. I don't even think about it; I dive in after her, down into the water below. Darkness instantly washes over me. My limbs are too heavy to move. My chest feels like there’s an anvil sitting on top of it, crushing my lungs. Is this what drowning feels like?
Beep...
Beep...
Beep...
Where is that annoying sound coming from? Awareness is slowly seeping in, and the first thing that registers beyond the rhythmic beeping is the pain.
So. Much. Fucking. Pain.
My head is pounding. My throat protests as I attempt to swallow. Every muscle in my body aches as if I just went a few dozen rounds in an octagon.
I wince when warm fingers wrap around mine.
“She needs more pain meds,” a deep voice barks.
Is that Kingston?
Why is someone playing the drums? I think I groan. I make a concerted effort to open my eyes and find a tall blonde wearing scrubs with pictures of little books on them. She's doing something that makes the godawful noise go away. Am I in a hospital?
“Hi, Jasmine. I’m Kristi, your nurse for the day. How are you feeling?”
“Hurts.” It’s difficult to speak. My tongue is sticking to the roof of my mouth.
Kristi reaches behind me, and next thing I know, a straw is pressed against my lips. “Take small sips...this should help a bit.”
I startle when something squeezes my bicep.
She smiles softly. “Try to hold still. It’s taking your blood pressure.”
I wait for the machine to do its thing while she taps her fingers on a nearby keyboard. “On a scale of one to ten, with ten being unimaginable, how would you rate your pain?”
“Nine, maybe?” My voice is so scratchy, I hardly recognize it.
I think I doze off for a second because now the nurse is by my side, uncapping a needle and injecting something into my IV line. “It’s time for another dose of morphine. This should make you feel much better in no time.”
That moment can’t come soon enough. I’ve never felt pain like this before.
“Thank you.” I fade in and out as the lady finishes checking my vitals. Or at least that’s what I think she’s doing. “Need to...save...my mom...ocean...so tired.”
“That’s normal,” Kristi says. “You’ve been through quite an ordeal. You get some more rest, and I’ll be back to check on you later.”
“’Kay,” I mumble.
“Sleep, baby.” The guy with the rumbly voice is back, pressing his lips against my forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“OH, SWEETHEART, WE like it when they run. It makes catching our prey much more satisfying.”
The other one laughs, the sound of their amusement chilling me to the bones. Who are these twisted fucks? And seriously, where the hell is Kingston? I almost trip in my flip-flops, so I kick them off, running barefoot now. The sticks covering the forest floor scrape my skin, but I barely feel the pain because I’m too terrified to think of anything but escape.
“Help!” I scream. “Somebody fucking help me!”
I gasp, opening my eyes, only to slam them shut again when I’m assaulted by brightness.
“Lights,” I croak.
“Turn down those fucking lights!” Softening his tone, he adds, “Take it easy, Jazz. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Kingston? Where did he come from?
My eyelids flutter open, thankful the lights have been dimmed. My head shifts in the direction of the familiar voice. It is Kingston.
“What are you wearing?”
Kingston looks down at the green scrub top covering his torso. “Someone in the ER gave it to me. The shirt I was wearing was...stained.” His expression turns grim. “I was using it to put pressure on your wound until the ambulance arrived.”
“I’m in a hospital?”
Given the fluorescent lighting, the stench of antiseptic, and the obnoxious machines, the answer should be obvious, but my head is fuzzy. Nothing makes sense right now.
He nods. “Yeah, Jazz. You’re in the hospital.”
God, he looks like crap. His sandy hair is askew, dark circles are carved beneath his eyes, and his clothes are wrinkled.
Kingston links his pinkie finger with mine. “You scared the shit out of me.”
Huh? “Why?”
His brows pinch together. “Do you remember anything?”
“I—”
“Oh, good. You’re awake.” A woman walks into the room with a bright smile on her face. Kingston scoots his chair back a little as she approaches the bed I’m lying in. “How are you feeling? My name is Kristi, and I’m your nurse for a few more hours.”
Why do I feel like we’ve been through this before?
“Um...tired.” I shake my head slightly, trying to clear the fog. “Weird.”
“It’s perfectly normal to be disoriented when you’re coming out of anesthesia,” she assures me. “Do you remember how you got here? Or why you’re here?”
I think about it for a moment. I close my eyes as horrid memories flash through my brain. It’s the same thing I was dreaming about just now. I can still feel that sick bastard’s weight on top of me. His grubby hands touching my bare skin. The knife. Oh God, he put a knife in me! My hand moves to my stomach, just now noticing the extra weight. I open my eyes, examining the splint wrapped around my hand, going several inches up my arm.
“Your wrist is fractured,” the nurse answers my unspoken question.
I ignore Kingston’s penetrating gaze and focus on the woman before me.
Kristi removes her gloves and offers a smile. “I’m going to let the doctor know you’re awake. He’ll come in and explain everything.”
When she leaves, Kingston takes my hand.
I jerk back. “Don’t touch me.”
He pulls away, looking perplexed as he rakes his hands through his thick hair. “What? Why not?”
Find the truth, Jasmine.
“Because...” I swallow the lump in my throat. I know it’s not possible, but I swear I just heard my mom’s voice. “I don’t know. Just don’t touch me.”
I can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right. Kingston stares at me in confusion as I take a moment to piece everything together.
It takes considerable effort to level him with a glare when it finally hits me. “Where were you? Why did you have Bentley leave me all alone in that forest?”
Kingston frowns. “He was supposed to wait until I got there. I was right behind you two, but then I got held up.”
“By what?”
His jaw tics. “Peyton. She was drunk and belligerent. Then she started crying, causing an even bigger scene. Reed and I were dragging her back to her house, kicking and screaming. Literally.”
I fight the urge to scoff. “What convenient timing.”
“What the hell does that mean?” His hazel eyes narrow.
“You tell me.”
“What are you talking about?” His eyes widen. “You don’t think I had something to do with your attack, do you?”
Do I? I honestly have no clue what the right answer is.
I sigh, already feeling worn out by this conversation. “I don’t know what’s true anymore.”
Oh, you stupid, stupid girl. Who do you thin
k led the lamb to the slaughter?
My attacker’s words are running on repeat. I don’t know who to believe. Kingston’s betrayed my trust more than once in the short time I’ve known him. How can I say with any certainty he wasn’t responsible for my attack?
Your precious boyfriend doesn’t give a shit about you. Neither do his friends. Sweet talking you out of your panties was all part of the plan.
Was it all some sick joke? Part of some master plan? But why? Just to shut me up about something I overheard? Or is it more? I rub my temples when my head starts throbbing.
“Kingston, get out.”
“Why would I do that? What the hell happened in that forest, Jazz?”
A soft knock precedes the nurse’s return. There’s a gray-haired man behind her—I’m guessing this is the doctor she was referring to earlier.
“Jasmine, I’m Dr. Yates. Are you feeling well enough to talk about your injuries?”
Kingston moves as the doc comes closer, taking a seat in the corner.
My eyes flash to Kingston. “Yes, but I don’t want him here.”
There's a moment of awkward silence before Dr. Yates replies. "Of course." He turns to the fuming man in the corner. "I'm going to need you to wait in the waiting room. Someone will come to get you if Miss Callahan is open to receiving visitors."
“Fuck that.” Kingston shoots out of his chair. “I’m the one who found her. I called 911! I’m the reason she’s here!”
Dr. Yates holds his hands up in a placating gesture. “Sir, please don’t make me call security. My patient has every right to request privacy.”
Kingston kicks the leg of the chair before shooting a glare in my direction. “Fine. But I’m not leaving this fucking hospital. We are not done with this conversation.”
The doctor watches Kingston charge out of the room before speaking again. “Would you like a moment before I continue?”
I’m freakin’ exhausted, but I want to get this over with. “No. Now is fine.”
He clears his throat. "When you arrived, you were suffering from a knife wound to your lower abdomen, blood loss, and contusions over several parts of your body. A CT scan revealed some internal bleeding, likely from the blunt trauma, so we needed to perform an exploratory laparotomy. Fortunately, the blade missed your intestines, and the leaking blood vessels were easily repaired.
