by Nicole Fox
My world will be better when she is gone for good.
I wipe myself off with the towel and hurl it into my laundry basket. Then I get up, get dressed, and go downstairs.
My father calls my name as I pass. I ignore him. I’ve had enough of King William Foster today, thank you very much.
Instead, I grab my car keys and keep going out the front door.
It’s a short drive to J.C.’s house. I honk when I get there.
J.C. strolls out of his parents’ brand-new multimillion-dollar McMansion with his hands in a clearance rack hoodie and a pair of ripped jeans on. The hood is pulled up over his dishwater-blond hair.
He ducks into my car without a word. I slam on the gas, pressing us both back into the leather seats.
After a few blocks of nothing but the roar of the engine, I turn to him. “Yo.”
He finally pulls down his hood and laughs. “You text me in all-caps, ‘URGENT,’ after ten on a school night and that is all you have to say? Where in the hell are we going?”
“’On a school night’?” I snort. “You sound like you’re ten.”
“My parents are chill, but even they have limits, Finn.”
“Ten inches, maybe.”
“In your fucking dreams, chief. Anyways, quit your bitching. It won’t be long. We’ve just gotta go pick something up.”
He groans. “I have a test tomorrow.”
“First of all, I have that class with you and it’s a pop quiz. Second, it’s English. You speak English already. You shouldn’t need to study, dumbass.”
He points to me, his finger illuminated by the green glow of my stereo system. “That is exactly why your daddy buys your way through this school. If my parents were as rich as God, I’d stop worrying about quizzes, too.”
He has a point, but I don’t want to concede to him. Mostly because our group needs J.C. Especially now.
With Nico gone, things have felt heavy, and J.C. helps keep it light. Plus, underneath his thrift store hoodies and good nature, the kid is savage. He can’t fight the way Caleb can, but I’ve seen him go crazy on people who cross us.
We are almost out of town when I turn off on the dirt road and park in the trees. I’d much rather meet in a public place, but Ingram is getting nervous about meeting with us as it is.
“Is he here?” J.C. asks, squinting through the dashboard.
Just as he asks, lights flash in the distance. We both get out and walk, hands hanging freely at our sides, down the dirt road.
Officer Ingram does the same, lifting one hand in a wave.
“Boys,” he greets as we approach.
“What’s up, pig?” J.C. cackles.
The police officer bristles at the nickname, but J.C. laughs.
I reach out and shake Ingram’s hand. “Let’s make this quick. We have people waiting on us.”
Ingram starts to reach into his pocket and then stops, looking up at me with a heavy brow. “I owe your dad a big one, Finn, but I won’t risk my job. If anyone starts sniffing around, this is done.”
“If this is done, then you’ll lose more than your job,” J.C. says, delivering the threat with a smile.
I don’t know if J.C. is right. Whatever shit my dad has on Ingram, it is enough that he brings me drugs from the evidence locker without any additional threats.
So, I don’t personally have anything to hold over him. Still, the threat keeps him quiet.
He grabs the drugs, and I hand him a thick roll of cash.
He doesn’t count it in front of me, but I know he will later. It’s all there. I am a lot of things, but a thief is not one of them.
As soon as the exchange is over, Ingram turns on his heel and strolls back to his car casually, as though he was just out for a normal patrol. Nothing to see here.
“Oink-oink, piggy!” J.C. calls loudly.
Officer Ingram flinches. I can’t help but laugh.
I feel better as I walk back to the car. Meeting with Ingram reminded me of something: everyone in this town belongs to me, one way or another. Everyone in this town is under my control.
Lily DeVry will not be the exception.
I get a text as I climb back into the driver’s seat. “Caleb is with Noah and Viktor at the Fridge,” I tell J.C. “Let’s stop and have a drink.”
“If I fail school and my parents hang me in the attic, I’m gonna haunt your ass forever,” he replies with a grim scowl.
“Shut the fuck up. You’re gonna get a job at Barber Engineering after you graduate and live a cush life. You’ve got it made already.”
“Look who’s talking,” he grumbles, but he quits complaining.
The Fridge is a small liquor store slash gas station, but it’s staffed by ambivalent college students, and they don’t give a shit about fake IDs. Or they don’t know any better.
“I can’t believe you’re out this late on a school night, J.C.,” Caleb quips as we park and get out. He’s sitting with Viktor and Noah in the back of his pickup truck behind the store.
J.C. flips him off, and the two of them get into a mock scuffle.
“Enough, children,” Viktor chides. He throws an empty beer can at the two wrestlers.
I sigh and take a cold one from the cooler.
Cracking it open, I hold it up in a toast. “Listen up, fuckers. This is our last year at Ravenlake Prep all together. Last year of the Golden Boys all being in one place. Since Vik and I need to actually, you know, fucking graduate. So, it’s time to toast and soak in the accomplishment. We’ve survived three years at Ravenlake Prep. One to go.”
Everyone chugs their beers and throws the empties down on the dirt when they’re done.
Even J.C., I note with a smile. That bastard can never resist a good time.
We are shooting the shit and bitching about football practice when the roar of motorcycles cuts through our conversation.
Like a dog, Viktor perks up, sitting straighter and turning to look over at the gas pumps.
I look that way, too, just as three motorcycles roll into view, each of the riders wearing a hideous leather vest.
Hell Princes.
“I fucking hate those guys,” Viktor says, spitting in their direction. “A bunch of washed-out wannabes.”
It’s true. Most of the members are townies who never went to college or found anything productive to do with their time. So now, they ride around on their bikes and harass people.
Fucking trailer trash.
They park their bikes and strut over. Leather jackets gleaming in the bright lights outside the liquor store.
“Look who it is,” their leader says, spitting on the ground at us. “The Golden Shower Boys.”
I roll my eyes. J.C. is faster with the retort, though. “Eat a dick, Princess.”
Neither insult is particularly original, but the menace between our respective groups is obvious. I doubt they’re stupid enough to try anything—they’re outnumbered five to three, and Caleb counts as several since he’s so lethal with his fists.
But they’re fucking morons, all of them, so you never know. It’s best to be on guard.
“Y’all know anything about Dallas?” pipes up one of the others. He’s a skinny son of a bitch with a hairy Adam’s apple that bobs whenever he talks.
I stiffen up. Fuck. I should’ve known this was going to happen eventually, but Lily’s been such a distraction that I haven’t planned properly for this moment.
Viktor spits from where he’s seated on the bed of the pickup truck. “Who?”
“Dallas Martin. Goes to school with you douche bags. Someone roughed him up good, put him in the hospital. We’d hate to find out y’all were responsible.”
Noah starts to say something, but I hold up a hand and he quiets down.
“He’s not dead, is he?” I ask casually.
The leader scowls, but eventually shakes his head. “Naw.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“You know,” the third one says, the only one who hasn
’t spoken up yet, “I don’t like your tone. Don’t like your face neither.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t like your grammar or your smell. Two for two. Call us even.”
My friends laugh. The Hell Princes glower in anger.
There is a long enough stare-down that I start to think our casual night is going to turn violent. But just as Caleb cracks his knuckles, they all spit one more time in our direction.
Then they turn around and saunter back to their rides. Hopping on, they ride off into the night, flipping us the bird as they go.
I watch until they disappear in the darkness. I also make a mental note to follow up about Dallas. If he’s going to speak up and cause a war between us and the Hell Princes, I need to know about it. I need to be ready.
“Fucking cowards,” Caleb growls.
He’s right about that. The Hell Princes are cowards.
But rats backed into a corner can be very, very dangerous.
19
Finn
School the next day goes by in a blur. I take one of the side doors out of the building. I don’t feel like talking to anyone right now.
Until, surprise surprise, who do I see seated in the shadows at the corner of the main building?
None other than Lily DeVry.
She doesn’t look up as I approach. Her blonde hair is draped over her face like a curtain.
It’s like she thinks she can hide behind it. As if a beautiful girl with long blonde hair is ever able to hide.
I only realize what I’ve just admitted as I park in the shadow of the building.
Lily DeVry is beautiful.
I have a sudden flashback to my father laying out this whole plan. The plan that’s brought her to me.
I’ve pulled the strings I had to pull to get the girl to Ravenlake, he told me icily over dinner one night last week. You’re going to finish what we started.
I was only supposed to seduce her. To ruin her. To break her down until there was nothing left, and then run her out of Ravenlake for good.
So, it shouldn’t matter that I think she is beautiful, but somehow, it does.
It makes me mad.
Mad at her for looking so good. Mad at her for not realizing it.
And mad at myself for becoming distracted by something as trivial as soft hair and pouty lips and big brown eyes.
I feel myself stir between my legs. I haven’t jerked off this much in years. Now, I’m hard at just the memory of Lily lying on my bed, her back arched as I shoved my fingers into her. At the mere thought of her silky-smooth walls and wet warmth contracted around my hand.
Before I get out of the car, I readjust myself in my pants so she won’t notice the tenting, and stroll towards her.
It takes her far too long to hear me coming and look up, but when she does, her wide brown eyes nearly root me to the spot. Then, they narrow into familiar hatred, and I’m able to control myself.
Remembering how much she hates me helps keep things in perspective.
“What are you doing here?”
“I thought you might need some company while your mom is busy,” I say, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Want to take a drive?”
“No,” she snorts, screwing up her face. “Obviously not.”
I hold out my hand. “It wasn’t actually a question.”
She closes her sketchbook and shoves it in her backpack fast enough that I only catch a glimpse of pencil lines and what looks like an arched brow. Then, she crosses her arms and levels me with an icy stare.
“And why would I go anywhere with you?”
“Because I passed by Cora and her clique of bitches on the way here, and I may have told them where they could find you.” I look back over my shoulder like I’m looking for someone, even though I know Cora is already gone for the day. I saw her pull out of the lot. “They should be right behind me, actually.”
I see the spark of fear in her eyes. It is amazing to me that those bimbos can scare Lily more than I do.
She’s still so naïve. She doesn’t know how Ravenlake Prep works.
“Have they been giving you a lot of shit?”
I don’t know why I care. Actually, I don’t care. I’m just curious.
Lily snaps her eyes to me and presses her lips together into a flat pink line. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
I nod and back away from her. “So, I’ll leave you here, then?”
She opens her mouth to say something and then stops. I watch as her mind whirls, as she makes her decision.
Finally, she wrinkles her nose, sighs, and grabs her backpack. “If I get in your car, you have to take me home.”
I turn around, shrug, and pull my keys from my pocket. “Whatever.”
My car smells like cigarettes and leather, but as soon as Lily slides into the passenger seat, vanilla wafts over to me. Like my bedsheets, my car is probably going to forever smell like her.
Every night while trying to fall asleep, I have to try and block out her scent and the memory of what we did.
Now, going for a drive won’t even be a reprieve.
“You are going to have to pay me back for the professional-level cleaning it will require to get your perfume smell out of my bed and car.”
She tucks her backpack under the glove compartment between her feet and frowns. “I don’t wear perfume. It’s just my bodywash.”
God. The image of her wet and soaped up in her shower makes me throb.
Which makes me even more mad.
I want to hate the way Lily smells and looks. I want to hate that she is in my car right now, and that I have to waste a perfectly good afternoon off from football practice driving her home.
But I don’t. I can’t.
“Why do you look like you’re constipated?”
I look over in surprise. She is staring at me, her lips parted slightly.
I consider lying. Telling her to fuck off and leaving her on the side of the road.
But I decide the truth might be more effective. If I want to tear down her innocent walls, giving her a peek into my depravity should do the trick.
“The thought of you in the shower made me hard,” I say coolly.
I glance down at my crotch and then readjust, trying to ease the tension.
Her eyes go wide as my excitement becomes obvious. After a few seconds, she turns away and stares through the windshield.
“You’re fucked up.”
“Understatement.”
Lily brushes her hair away from her face, gathering it in a bundle at the base of her neck, and takes a deep breath.
“What do you want from me, Finn?”
She never told me where she lived, so I’m driving aimlessly, barely paying attention to the roads.
I shrug. “Everything.”
Once again, the truth lands better than any lie ever could.
I want everything from Lily.
When I’m done, I don’t want there to be anything left.
Destruction. Wreckage. Ruin.
“What does that even mean?” She presses her closed fists into her eyes. “If you want my dignity, you got it. Self-respect? Yours. Self-control? Long gone.”
“Are you saying you can’t control yourself around me?”
It shouldn’t matter, but the idea makes me smile.
“Don’t smirk like you’re surprised.” She groans. “I’m not the kind of girl who regularly has sex in public restrooms.”
“We didn’t have sex,” I corrected her. “You didn’t even touch me.”
She bobs her head back and forth, agreeing with the technicality, and then she stiffens. I feel her turn towards me slowly.
I can’t help but glance away from the road and meet her eyes.
I’m unprepared for what I see there.
Lust.
Her lips are parted, and I can see her tongue pressing against the back of her teeth. She drags her eyes from my face to my chest and then lower, lower, back to the tent in my jeans.
The traffic li
ght turns green, forcing me to fix my gaze back on the road, so I don’t see her reach across the console. I’m not prepared at all when her palm presses against the ache between my legs.
I hiss in surprise and need. Lily just breathes out a low laugh.
“What are you doing?”
She unbuttons my pants and it becomes painfully obvious what she is doing. The vibration of my zipper being pulled down is almost enough to send me over the edge.
God, what has this girl done to me?
“I thought you said you wanted everything,” she purrs, undoing her seat belt and leaning over the gearshift to get a bit closer. She licks her lips. “I assume that means my mouth, too.”
No. No. This is not what I meant.
“No?” She tips her head to the side, and I realize I spoke out loud.
I’m out of sorts. Losing control. I need to pull over and reclaim this situation.
Lily is being seduced by me. Ruined by me. Not the other way around.
But just then, her small hand slips inside my underwear. I jerk the wheel towards the right, nearly colliding with a Toyota in the other lane. It honks at me, but I can’t be bothered because Lily’s fingers are stroking my length.
It’s all I can do to keep the car between the lines.
“You’re going to get us both killed.” I try to sound stern, but my voice is hoarse.
Lily pushes my boxer briefs out of the way, letting me spring free. I feel her breath on my tip as she speaks. “That’s fine. If you want everything, take my life, too. It’s not worth much, anyway.”
Before I can dissect what she means, Lily bends down and presses her lips to the end of me. My hips buck up, beyond my control, and she smiles and then lets me into her hot mouth.
Holy fucking fuck.
I thought that every time I imagined Lily while I stroked myself, I was purging her from my system, getting rid of her like trimming dead leaves from a plant.
Now I know the truth—every stroke simply primed the pump.
I’d been preparing my body for a tiny fraction of how incredible it would feel to have her touch me. If I hadn’t prepared, it would probably be over already, because good God, her mouth feels fan-fucking-tastic.
It takes every last ounce of sanity I have to change lanes, turn onto a side road, and pull alongside a curb. The second the car is in park, I drop my head against the headrest and curse.
